#I'm sure my voice will drop one of these days

[ariestrxsh]

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 content warning: smut, an insane amount of teasing, dirty talk, praise, sexual touching, masturbation, oral (f!receiving), mentions of sex, power play, switch!chris, switch!matt, switch!reader

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 summary: matt and chris decide to participate in no nut november. the competition gets even more interesting when you get involved, making a bet with the two boys about who can last the longest while you're actively working against them.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 this fic was inspired/requested by this ask, and this ask, and the song/title was requested by this ask 🤍

love potions

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day One

"Oh, come on. You guys aren't seriously participating in that stupid trend, are you?" You scoffed after you'd walked in on Matt and Chris talking about their latest competition. "It's not just a trend. It's like a sexual reset," Matt said to you in a serious tone.

"Oh. Okay. I still think it's stupid. Why would you want to torture yourselves for a whole month?" You shrugged. "It's like a test of willpower and whoever makes it longer without needing to nut wins No Nut November," Chris explained.

"What do you win?" You wondered, looking between the two of them. "You're just the winner," Matt shrugged. You rolled your eyes. "And what are the rules?" You inquired, wanting to hear more. "No sex, no masturbation, and you can't do anything to make yourself cum," Chris replied.

"That's crazy. If the regulations are going to be that strict, I think you boys both need a little incentive," you smirked at them. They both glanced at each other and back at you. "What do you suggest?" Matt wondered aloud. "How about whichever one of you loses has to watch the winner fuck me, hmm? Don't you think that'd make it a little more interesting?" You proposed.

"Incentive? That sounds like a punishment," Matt replied, lifting his brows in a shocked manner. "Only if you lose," Chris teased him with a smug smile plastered on his face. "Punishment, reward. Same thing. Same desired outcome," you sneered at them.

"I think that would really help incentivize me," Chris eagerly nodded at you. "Can we both just rub one out real quick and start right after that?" Matt asked, biting his lip. "No, Matt. November has already started," you smirked at him.

"Okay, so the winner of No Nut November gets to use me however they want, and the loser has to watch. But I have a few rules of my own I'd like to instill. You guys both have to make it at least two weeks. If the loser caves on week one, the bet's off, and no one gets to use me. Also, I get to tease you guys as much as I want," your lips curled into a malicious grin.

"That's not fair," Matt glared at you. "Sure it is, Matt. If I'm the reward, don't you think it's only fair that I get to put in place some rules of my own?" You raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms. "Okay, fine," Matt huffed, rolling his eyes. "You boys are really in for it. I've been extra horny lately," you said in a luscious voice, looking them both up and down.

"What if we both go the whole month without breaking any rules?" Chris asked. "Then you can both tag team me," you smirked, glancing between the two of them. They both eagerly nodded at the sound of that.

"And what if we both lose at the same time?" Matt asked curiously. "Then I get to use you two however I want, and I get to humiliate you while you finish," you responded, putting your hand over your mouth to hold back a chuckle.

"Oh, don't tell Matt that. He'll like that too much," Chris teased his brother. Matt punched him in the arm. "Ow!" Chris shot back, rubbing his arm. You were already planning all the different ways you were going to try to seduce them and make them slip up.

"I'm going to go run some errands. I'll be right back," you teasingly waved at them both before strutting out the door. "Whoops," you said, purposely dropping your keys so you'd have an excuse to bend down in front of them.

Unfortunately for them, you were wearing your favorite pair of jeans that hugged all your curves perfectly, and as you accentuated your movements while you bent at the waist to fetch them from off the floor, Chris and Matt's eyes immediately traveled to your bottom.

Then they both glanced at each other, exchanging a look. It dawned on them that they may be in over their heads. You waltzed out the front door on your way to buy a new lingerie set along with some other things to tease them with.

A few hours later, you came back in with a few shopping bags in hand. "What did you get?" Matt wondered, peeking into the bag. He caught a glimpse of white lace before you yanked them away from him. "You'll find out," you told him, tucking them out of sight and wondering off to go plan your strategy.

You had a few tricks up your sleeve, but you couldn't just whip out your craziest idea in the first week. Your tactic was to keep it playful at the beginning, just little touches that would linger a few seconds too long and subtle comments here and there to fluster them.

Over time, you'd slowly work your way towards the more overt seduction after they'd let their guards down.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Two

Throughout the day, you kept finding reasons to lightly and sensually touch both boys. You'd playfully hit Chris in his well-toned bicep when he'd say anything funny, and afterward, you'd make some comment to puff up his ego.

"You been working out? Your muscles look so hot lately," you said to him in a sexy voice, your eyes dancing over his lips while you spoke to him as you squeezed his upper arm. "You're gonna have to try harder than that," Chris arrogantly stated, well-aware of what you were doing.

Later on, you went up to Matt after spritzing yourself with a new perfume you'd gotten recently. "Hey, Matt. I want to get your opinion on this fragrance," you innocently told him, holding a lot of eye contact.

You tilted your head up, and he leaned down to smell where you had sprayed it just above your collarbone. Notes of jasmine and lavender filled his senses.

"Mmm. It smells nice," he commented. "No, you're not close enough," you responded, running your fingers through his hair and reeling him in nearer to you until his nose was resting against your neck.

"What do you think? If we were on a date and I wore this scent, would you take me back to your place and fuck my brains out?" You seductively asked him, gently massaging his scalp with your fingertips.

"Shit," Matt muttered, blood started rushing to the tip of his cock as he pulled away from you. "Nice try," he said, leaving the room.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Five

You decided to ramp it up just a little bit. Throughout the day, you kept purposely dropping things so you could bend over and show off the little thong you wore under your miniskirt.

They couldn't help but fall for it every time, even though they knew you were doing it for the sole purpose of riling them up. You loved witnessing the desperation slowly creep into their expressions while you taunted them. You held a lot of eye contact while talking to them, purposely staring at their lips a lot and licking your own while you watched them become nervous.

That night, Chris was in his room, sitting shirtless in his gaming chair and playing a video game when you came into the room and started rubbing his shoulders for him. "Mmm. You're so tense," you stated, working through a knot on his shoulder blade. "Gee, I wonder why," Chris chuckled.

He let out a soft, satisfied groan as you massaged his back for him, making sure to whisper praises in his ear. "I bet you're so sore because you've been hitting the gym so much, huh? It really shows. Your back looks so toned right now," You cooed.

"What else am I going to do with myself?" He smirked, knowing he'd been working out every day since November started to fend off his sex drive. "I bet since you exercise a lot, you have good stamina, don't you? Bet you could fuck for a long time," you whispered in his ear. He responded with a loud scoff.

"I bet you're the kind of guy who likes to get off multiple times a day, don't you? So this must be extra hard for you. You're so disciplined for not caving yet. I could never do what you're doing. I swear, I'm horny all the time," you told him.

"I am disciplined," he reiterated. "So disciplined in fact that this doing nothing for me." But it was a lie. His dick was starting to perk up at your words and your tone of voice. "Mhmm," you said, unconvinced as you left the room to go tease Matt.

He was downstairs making brownies in the kitchen when you found him. "Have you been a good boy? Keeping your hands out of your pants, hmm?" You gave him a sly smile. He immediately met you with a needy look. Matt was a little more transparent than Chris, not quite as good at hiding how turned on he was.

"I've been good. Still going strong," He nodded at you while he stirred the brownie batter. "So well-behaved. Good boy," you said, your tone saturated with lust. Matt started to get a little hard at how you were speaking to him, but he tried to take his mind off you with chocolate.

"You should try this. It's really good," Matt said, dipping his finger into the brownie batter, but before he could get another taste, you gently grabbed onto his hand, and as he looked over to make eye contact with you, you were slipping his digit between your parted lips and sucking off the chocolate.

"Mmmm," you hummed with your mouth wrapped around his finger, subtly moving your head back and forth. His dick twitched in his sweatpants and he let out a soft whimper as you excited all the nerve endings on the tip of his finger.

"Maybe you're not such a good boy after all. I think you liked that a little too much," you taunted him, releasing his hand from your grip. It took everything in Matt not to run upstairs and go jerk off to the thought of your mouth on another one of his extremities. Instead, he went back to making brownies.

"You can't have any more until they're ready," he glared at you, trying to will away his erection.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Six

It was nearing the end of the first week, and you approached Chris early one morning as he was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal and flipping through his phone. "It's almost the end of week one. How do you feel?" You asked, coming up behind him.

You seductively ran your fingers along his chest, whispering into his ear and making sure your hot breath hit the side of his neck while you did. "I feel great. I haven't had any urges at all," Chris lied through his teeth, trying to ignore the way you were touching him.

"Oh really, hmm? Maybe I'm not teasing you enough," you chuckled into his ear, gently nibbling on his earlobe. He let out a soft moan and his cock immediately grew hard. "Not even a single urge, huh?" You provoked him, staring down at the tent in his pants while you started to kiss his neck.

"Fuck, you're making this so difficult," Chris got up and stormed off, leaving his cereal unfinished. "Better not be going to touch yourself!" You called after him.

"I'm not. I'm going to the gym to burn off some of this energy," Chris huffed, heading to his room to change into basketball shorts. You smirked at his arrogance he'd displayed a few minutes earlier before nearly folding under your touch.

Around this time, Matt came downstairs in his Pokémon pajamas and started rifling through the fridge for something to eat.

"Hey, handsome boy. How did you sleep?" You asked, gently caressing his arm and asking in a sultry voice. "Really good," he said, avoiding eye contact and trying to hide the fact that he had morning wood.

"I slept well, too. Except I had this dream that I can't stop thinking about," you seductively bit your lip. "What did you dream about?" Matt naively asked. "Well, I'm a little embarrassed to say, but it was a wet dream. About you," your eyes flicked up to meet his. "Really?" He asked, falling right into your trap.

"Yeah, you were making me scream your name because of how big your cock was and how hard you were fucking me," you teased him, painting a picture in his head. "Fuck. Please don't tell me anymore," Matt replied, still peering into the fridge.

"You mean, you don't wanna hear about how I played with myself after I woke up from it?" You simpered at him. Matt let out a loud sigh and pulled out a carton of eggs and some bacon while he ignored your temptress ways.

"You don't wanna hear about how I rubbed my clit in circles and filled my pretty, pink hole with my favorite dildo while I thought about you and moaned your name?" You snickered. "This is so unfair," Matt replied, covering his ears and looking at you with his desperate expression and his puppy dog eyes, his dick aching in his pants.

"If you think I'm being unfair now, you just wait," you responded before skipping off to go plan your next move.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Nine

A few days later, Chris came out into the living room to find you sprawled out on your yoga mat in a tank top and spandex shorts. "Oh, thank god you're here. Mind helping me with something really quick?" You innocently asked him, batting your eyelashes in his direction.

"Depends. What do you need?" Chris skeptically asked, narrowing his gaze. "Will you come over here and help stretch me out?" You requested, smirking at him as he grew flustered at your word choice. "Fuck this. You're on your own," Chris said, immediately walking the other direction.

"Chris! Wait!" You called after him. He stopped, let out a loud sigh, and slowly turned around. "What?" He asked impatiently. "Chris. I'm not trying to pull anything. I just really need your help. Please. My muscles are so sore," you begged, pouting at him.

After a few seconds of deliberating, he rolled his eyes and started heading back over towards you. "Fine. What do you need me to do?" Chris asked, kneeling down on the floor next to you and immediately regretting it when you spread open your legs.

"I need you to push my thighs apart," you told him, trying to conceal your condescending grin. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Chris snarked at you. "No, I'm not kidding. I'm really sore. Just put your hands on the insides of my thighs and push down," you directed him.

He did as you said, trying to ignore the damp spot on the front of your shorts. "Oh, Chris. You stretch me out so good," you maliciously moaned. He clenched his jaw as he glanced into your eyes. "I haven't cum in nine days," Chris responded.

If looks could kill, the look Chris was giving you right now was damn near fatal. "Nine days? Only twenty-one more to go!" You sneered, reminding him he wasn't even a third of the way there yet. "You fucking bitch," Chris dug his fingertips into the fleshy part of your inner thighs and started pushing them apart until you let out a pained whimper.

"Oh, Chris. Don't stop. I love when you're mean to me. It turns me on so much," you responded in a sultry voice, flipping his power move back onto him. He let go of you and stormed out of the room to go play video games and take his mind off what was between your legs.

About ten minutes later, Matt came downstairs, his eyes immediately falling onto you in a compromising stretching position. "Oh, Matt. I'm so glad you're here. Think you could give me a hand or two real quick?" You cooed, motioning with your finger for him to come here. Matt nodded despite the fact that he knew you were up to no good.

"What do you need?" He asked, eager to please you in any way. "Will you give me a little massage? My muscles right here are very sore," you motioned towards the muscles on your inner thighs while you bit your lip, peering up at him. "O-okay," Matt stuttered, walking into the next trap you set.

He couldn't help notice how wet you were, but he tried his best to ignore it. He kneeled down between your legs and started massaging where you had asked. You let your eyes roll back in your head and let out a few satisfied sounds as he worked his thumbs on each one of your fleshy thighs.

"That's it, Matt. Just like that," you whined in a sexual manner, causing his dick to twitch in his pants. "Go up just a little further," you said, guiding his hands closer to your pussy. He nodded, doing as you asked. "Good boy," you moaned as he rubbed that spot over and over again. His eyes shot wide open.

"Can you move up just a little further?" You wondered, batting your lashes. "I-I can't," Matt shook his head, knowing if he moved up any further, he'd be right on your private parts. "Here," you said, grabbing his hand and placing his thumb directly on your clit.

"There you go. Now move it in circles. A little more pressure. Oh, just like that. Good boy," you cooed, looking seductively at him. Matt knew it was a dangerous game for him to be touching you there, but he couldn't stop.

He loved the words and sounds that were falling from your lips. He loved the way you were looking at him with desire in your eyes and pleasure written all over your face.

"Faster," you whispered, throwing your head back. Your shorts were soaking wet where Matt was massaging you with his thumb, and your legs started to shake while your cries of delight became louder. Chris came downstairs to see what all the commotion was.

You started seeing stars as your orgasm crashed over you. You moaned Matt's name over and over as he rubbed your clit in tight, fast circles, completely mesmerized by you finishing for him. Your whole body trembled until your climax subsided while Chris watched from the bottom of the stairs.

"Holy shit, Matt. I think you just lost No Nut November. Fucking pussy," Chris smirked. "What? I did not! I didn't break any of the rules!" Matt exclaimed defensively. "He's right, Chris. He didn't break any rules. He did, however, make it way harder on himself to follow the rules," you devilishly grinned, peering down at Matt's neglected cock that strained at the fabric of his pants, begging to be stroked.

"Now you gotta deal with having that boner until it goes away on its own," you chuckled at him, closing your legs and getting up. You rolled up your yoga mat, bending down in front of them both, and they each angrily groaned at you and stomped out of the room.

You were plotting your moves for the next few days. Meanwhile, Chris had a plan of his own. Upon learning that he was allowed to touch you however he pleased as long as he wasn't sticking his dick in you, he decided he was going to make you sweat a little the same way you were doing to him and Matt.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Twelve

The next night, in an attempt to turn on the boys, you tried on your new lingerie you'd bought at the beginning of the bet. You stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom dressed in a white lace bra and matching panties, knowing it was going to drive Matt and Chris crazy.

You wandered off to the living room where Matt was sitting on the couch, flipping through movies on Netflix and trying to find something to watch. "Hi, Matt," you cooed, leaning up against the wall. "Hey," Matt responded, his eyes flickering over at you and back at the television, and then back over at you when he realized what you were wearing.

"Wow," he whispered, studying the way you looked in white. "I have to show you something," you said, wandering over to him and straddling him on the couch. "What are you doing?" He asked, accusingly.

"Look," you said, pulling down your bra to reveal your breasts to him. "I got them pierced about six months ago, and they were finally healed enough for me to change out the metal," you couldn't contain your smug smile as you flashed Matt.

"Wow," he whispered again, reaching up to grab both your breasts, and he ran his thumbs over the heart-shaped rings. You shuddered at his touch. "They're so much more sensitive now," you whimpered. "Did it hurt when you got them pierced?" Matt asked, looking up at you. "A little, but I liked it," you snickered and bit your lip.

Without thinking, Matt leaned forward and took your right nipple into his mouth, delicately swirling his tongue around and gently suckling on it before moving to the left. You let out a few soft whines while he pleased you. You started to rock your hips back and forth, grinding up against Matt's rock hard cock.

"Okay, that's enough. You're being totally unfair right now," Matt said, lifting you off of him and shoving you to the other end of the couch.

"Hey, what's the matter, Matt?" You asked, crawling back over towards him. He jumped to a standing position. "I have to get out of here. You're too good at this," Matt grabbed his keys off the coffee table and headed out the door, fleeing from temptation. You smiled to yourself, getting so close to making him cave for you.

You picked up the remote and started searching through the various streaming services, waiting for Chris to come home so you could tease him next. Chris came bursting through the door, mad as hell. There was something about his demeanor that was off and slightly unsettling.

"Are you okay, Chris?" You asked him while sitting on the couch in your lingerie. "It's been twelve days since I've had an orgasm. I'm full of testosterone and cum, and I've had a shitty day, and I can't even to go to my room and beat my meat about it. I need to take all this aggression out on someone," Chris responded, his eyes sparkling and his lips curling into a smile as his eyes landed on you.

He walked over towards you, fell to his knees in front of you, and forced your legs apart. "You're such a fucking tease, skipping around in my house in your fucking lingerie. I hope these weren't expensive," Chris growled, ripping a hole in your lace panties.

You gasped and your eyes widened as you watched while Chris' lips latched onto your clit. He started moving his tongue in fast, jagged movements, making animalistic sounds while he ate you. "Chris, it's so sensitive," you squirmed around beneath him. "I don't mind," he smirked at you as he went back to assaulting your pussy with his mouth, sucking on your clit and licking it at the speed of light.

"Oh, Chris!" You called out, tugging on his hair, but he didn't let up. "If you want me to stop, just say that," he said, his lips vibrating against you. You didn't want to tell him to stop because you knew he would altogether. Malicious compliance was always one of Chris' favorite pastimes. "Don't stop, keep going," you whimpered, closing your thighs down around his ears.

You pulled down your bra again, gently tweaking your nipples while you looked down at Chris. His eyes flicked up at you. "Oh, my god. I didn't know you had your tits pierced. That's so fucking hot," he whispered, reaching up and grabbing a handful in each palm while he went back to eating your pussy like he was enjoying his last meal.

He squeezed your breasts and started pinching your nipples and rolling them between the pads of his fingers. You threw your head back and let out a satisfied moan as you began to shiver. "Yeah? You think you get to cum after all the shit you've been pulling?" Chris said, withdrawing all attention right before you finished.

"Nice try, fucking slut," Chris responded, spitting on your pussy and getting up to walk right back out the door. "Chris, please!" You called after him, nearly on the verge of tears from being teased like that. Chris slammed the door shut behind him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Well played, Chris," you whispered from the couch, staring down at the torn fabric that barely covered your bottom half while you decided to take matters into your own hands. You reached down to soothe the aching feeling Chris stuck you with after leaving you high and dry.

You rubbed your clit in fast circles with one hand and pinched your nipple with the other as you finished, remembering the way Chris' mouth felt on you. Just as you were trembling and reaching your much-needed climax, Matt walked back in through the door after finishing up his late night drive, his eyes immediately landing on the way your fingers were manipulating your clit.

"Oh my god. You're relentless!" Matt exclaimed before running up the stairs to take his mind off the scene that had just unfolded in front of him. You breathlessly chuckled about being caught. You hadn't meant for Matt to walk in on you and be tempted by you even further, but you weren't mad that it had played out that way.

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 Day Fourteen

You decided to kick it up a notch in the teasing department. By now, both Matt and Chris were very skeptical of you any time you wanted to show them anything or ask for help with something, so you had to get more creative with it.

You started taking naked pictures of yourself in the bathroom mirror after your shower, saving the good photos. After walking out into the hallway in just a towel, you opened up the group chat and sent in the best nude photo you'd taken, following it up with an "Oops! Didn't mean to send that! ;)" But they both knew better than to trust that it was a simple mistake.

When Chris opened your message, he let out a loud, annoyed grunt that resounded throughout the house. A few seconds later, you heard Matt's voice from down the hall, "You're evil!" You decided to strut around in your towel for the rest of the night, randomly dropping it while you were around the boys.

They used what willpower they could muster to keep their eyes off you as you relentlessly teased them with your body. While it was the closest they'd each gotten to saying fuck it about the whole No Nut November challenge, no one caved that night...

INTERACTIVE CHOOSE-YOUR-OWN ENDING AHEAD:

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 if you choose to have Matt and Chris both fail the challenge and become your submissive little fuck toys, click here 🤍

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 if you choose to have Matt and Chris win the challenge and turn you into their submissive little fuck toy, click here 🤍

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[maybeelse]

"Pathetic mortals! Hear my demands," Corvina intones, feathers raised is a posture of challenge, "and despair, for the will of the night is unstoppable! Your compatriot has made a mockery of our alliance! You must," her voice shifts, a faint squawk betraying a feather-covered blush, "make her let go of me."

Maria, Halberd of Noon, peers up at Corvina. The villainess, once barely taller than her, has grown beyond all reason in the weeks since the Tremorlord ate the sun and plunged the world into an eternal and moonless night. "Is Anne being a problem?"

"Yes! I mean, uh," she tries to compose herself, "yes. Remove her, lest a worse fate befalls her! I will drop her in the ocean to freeze, see if I don't."

"Why don't you ask her yourself?"

"S-she just talks about wanting me to eat her! It's creepy! You deal with it!"

"… sure," Maria sighs. "Where is she, anyway?"

Corvina gestures vaguely towards her frankly excessive body. "Somewhere? I don't know. You find her."

Maria stares at Corvina, entirely unimpressed, and the former harpy hides her head under one of her wings. Another dozen wings flutter spasmodically along her body; her proprioception still hasn't caught up to the glut of power engorging her body. Perhaps it could be comical if it wasn't a reminder of how badly screwed they all are.

"Anne! Get out here!"

"don't wanna," the distant reply comes.

"Got you," Maria murmurs.

It's not that easy, of course. Getting to her requires navigating more of their former and future foe's body than Maria every wanted to be aware of, and Corvina keeps on reflexively hitting her with her wings (tolerable) or trying to disembowel her with whichever foot is nearest (irritating). The worst part is Maria's allergies. Harpies generate nearly as much dander as pigeons, and Corvina has not been taking proper care of herself.

Her eyes are watering and her nose is running when she finally finds Anne, Sword of the Morning, curled up under one of Corvina's wings. Several of Corvina's clawed feet hold her aloft, cradling her as delicately as a fresh-plucked flower.

"Hey, sis," Anne murmurs, shifting slightly. "Sup?"

"… wait, I thought Corvina didn't want you here?"

"Yeah. She hates me, you know that."

"But—"

"But," Anne smiles, "her body doesn't. S' a good cuddler."

"… that doesn't make any sense, Anne."

"Does. Wanna join?"

"No, Anne. I want you to stop pissing her off. We really can't afford it."

"Mmm," Anne yawns, "Can't afford to stop either, though …"

"Explain?"

"Why should I? You already know all of it, and I'm tired."

The three Guardians of Day—two, now, since the Shield of Dusk defected to the Tremorlord's forces—have never liked talking about the exact details of their powers. They wax strongest during the hours they are bound to (as does Corvina, their villainous reflection), and wane as time's passage draws them away, but …

The fact that they still have some power during eternal night raises questions with indelicate answers. Questions like, well, "where does it come from?" And "how do we get more?"

Dusk's defection came after she asserted one specific answer, and rejected it entirely.

"… you can find someone else to cuddle, Anne."

"Don't wanna. Besides," she moves to flop onto the ground and Corvina's claws close around her—wrapping tight around her waist, her neck, and her thighs, pinning her in place like the delicious morsel that she is. "Don't think 'vina will let me."

"Yeah, okay," Maria grouses, "fuck this. Just stop asking her to eat you."

"S'not my fault that she's such a prude."

The villain decides to do the classic "team up to defeat a common foe" trope but it's been taking a lot longer than they had expected,the heroes are getting emotionally attached and it's starting to get weird.

[dreamscapeee222]

(I'm new to tumblr, sorry if I'm posting in the wrong place, I hope this is ask box)

I asked you to write about the relationship between the arcane characters and the reader who is very thin due to some health problems?

(Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language)

A/n: Hello!! I did lots of research with your request so I hope my work satisfies what you had in mind ^^

You deal with health problems that affect your weight

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

She’s not the type to pry. But she notices the little things—the way you don’t finish your meals, the way you curl up a little too tightly, like you're trying to protect yourself from the world. She never asks you about it, but she always makes sure you’ve got something to eat or drink when she knows you’re struggling.

She might drop a sandwich by your side, or hand you a water bottle without saying a word. It’s just her way of saying, “I see you,” without actually saying it.

If you ever get quiet for too long, she’ll be there, sitting next to you without forcing a conversation. It’s not about pushing you to talk—it’s just her letting you know you’re not alone, even in those silent moments.

Jinx

Jinx doesn’t always understand why you’re not at your best, but she feels it. She’s a whirlwind of chaos, always trying to keep you distracted, to keep you laughing. She doesn’t always get it right, but she’s trying, you can tell by the way she keeps pulling you into her nonsense, hoping that a little of her madness will rub off on you.

But there are times when she looks at you, and the mask slips for just a second. She sees how tired you are, how empty you seem sometimes, and in those moments, she doesn’t know how to fix it. But she doesn’t turn away. “You don’t gotta do this alone, okay?” she says, voice softer than usual. It’s a rare vulnerability, the one moment where she lets down the wall and shows you she’s scared too.

She might not know what to say or do, but she’ll always bring something to make you smile—even if it’s just a little.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s the quiet type, always paying attention to the little things that others might miss. She watches you—never in a way that feels overbearing, but in a way that shows she’s aware of when something’s off.

She doesn’t press you to talk, but she’ll always offer a gentle reminder that she’s there for you—whether that’s by quietly handing you a cup of tea, leaving a snack where you can easily reach it, or making sure you have time to rest.

She never pushes, but when you catch her looking at you with those soft, patient eyes, you know she’s not going anywhere. "Take it easy,” she says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. And for a moment, you actually believe it’s okay to slow down.

Ekko

Ekko’s the type of person who’s there without being too much. He notices when you’re pushing yourself too hard, and when he sees the signs—when you’re too quiet, when you’re too weak to do what you usually can—he’ll just quietly step in.

He won’t make a fuss, and he won’t ask you if you’re okay every five minutes. Instead, he’ll bring you a blanket when he sees you shivering, a drink when you look like you haven’t had one all day. He knows you don’t need someone to tell you what to do—you just need someone to make sure you don’t fall apart while you're doing it all.

Sometimes, he’ll sit beside you and not say a word. It’s just his presence, calm and steady, and it’s enough to make you feel like maybe everything will be okay. “You’re not alone,” he’ll say without looking at you. And it’s not just words—it’s his way of making sure you never feel like you’re fighting your battles by yourself.

Jayce

Jayce doesn’t know how to make things better when it’s you, and that frustration shows. He wants to fix things, to find the right answer, and he’s always throwing himself into research, into getting you the best treatment, the right food, whatever he thinks might help. But sometimes, it feels like he’s pushing you harder than you want, trying to make everything better without realizing that maybe what you need is just some quiet.

He doesn’t always know how to slow down, but there are times when you catch him looking at you, his expression softening when he sees the exhaustion in your eyes. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, and for once, it doesn’t come off as a demand. It’s a plea—something raw and real in the way he says it.

When you’re too tired to argue, he’ll just stay next to you, offering comfort in his own way. It’s not perfect, but you know he’s trying, and that’s enough for now.

Viktor

Viktor doesn’t say much, but his care shows in everything he does. When he sees you struggling, he doesn’t push you to talk about it. Instead, he quietly takes action—he makes sure your space is organized, makes sure you have what you need, even when you don’t ask for it.

You won’t hear him say, “I’m here for you,” but you’ll feel it in the way he adjusts your pillow without asking, or in the way he slides a cup of tea your way without a word. He’s not the type to crowd you, but he’s always making sure you’re okay in ways that don’t demand attention.

When you do catch him looking at you, there’s a softness in his eyes—an unspoken understanding. “You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he’ll say quietly, but it’s not just the words that matter. It’s the way he’s already got your back without needing you to ask.

Mel

Mel is the kind of person who knows how to give space without making you feel like you’re invisible. She’s quiet, observant, and when she sees that something’s not right, she’s there—but never in a way that feels like she’s pushing you.

Her care is in the little things—the cup of tea she hands you when you’re not feeling great, the soft touch of her hand on your arm as she sits beside you, giving you time to breathe. She doesn’t expect anything from you, just that you take care of yourself in your own time.

She’ll always remind you that it’s okay to slow down, to rest. “You don’t have to do it all at once,” she’ll say, and the gentleness in her voice makes it feel like everything else can wait. She’ll be there, waiting, until you’re ready to come back to the world.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.

[jayparked]

85 and 92 with jake pleasseeeee 😩😩

loud moans push past your lips despite how hard you try to suppress them. you hate being in this position, hate how easily he gets you here, and hate how much you like it. the only good thing about jake sim is that he was somehow blessed by the finger banging sex gods. the way his digits piston in and out of your aching cunt has your thighs shaking, hands grasping onto him for some sort of leverage. it pisses you off that you even have to hold onto him, or look at him for that matter. but dammit he just makes you feel so, so good.

"try not to be so noisy, yeah?" chuckles jake, a little too smugly.

"shut up, jake. we agreed no talking," you bite back.

he leans closer to you, lips brushing against your ear as he drops his voice down to a coy, sultry murmur, "aw, c'mon. you don't want me to whisper sweet nothings in your ear while you get off on my fingers?"

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. that should not turn you on more. that should not have you shutting your eyes tight to avoid them from rolling back. which you're able to resist from doing. every part of your body is under your control. that is, except where it matters most.

"oh, baby look at you clenching around me. you like that? do you like the sound of my voice?"

"shut. up." you say through gritted teeth. you're half tempted to knee him in the dick. but that would mean acknowledging the very obvious tent he's sporting and if you think about that- fuck. you're already thinking about it. how girthy he is, the way you can feel his veins against your walls as he pushes his mushroom tip to the deepest parts of yourself

"c'mon, sweetheart. drop the spiteful act just this once. you can pretend we're not enemies just this once, can't you? for me?"

you consider it for a moment. just a moment.

"nice try but i'm not falling for it. just hurry up and make me come so we can go our separate ways like always."

your eyebrows furrow together as jake pouts, fingers slowing to a stop inside of you.

accepting that things are ending here, you grab your bag and pull your pants back up to your hips, swallowing how annoyed you are as you walk away from him.

"wait! y/n!" jake runs after you and grabs your arm, turning you back to face him.

"get used to the view, sim. i look best when i'm walking away from you.

"actually, i think you'd look even better under me. please let me properly fuck you. i'll show you i'm not a waste of time."

"if that's what it takes to get you to stop begging." you laugh softly, trying hard to ignore the feelings of endearment and flattery that are bubbling up to your chest.

"oh baby i'll beg for you all day if that's what you like. just say the words i'll be on my knees." and without hesitating, jake is on his knees, hands clasped together and shaking back and forth. those puppy eyes are impossible to resist, you can't deny it. so you laugh nervously instead, looking around you to make sure no one is seeing this pathetic sight.

"what happened to being enemies?" you say with a smile you just can't mask.

jake gets to his feet, brushing his hands on his clothes before looking at you with a wide, dorky smile.

"i'd like to skip to the lovers part. if that's okay with you."

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

I have a little request if that’s alright😊

Could you possibly do a like fluffy aftercare fic with Rhys? Like I love the smut but sometimes that really fluffy aftercare with him checking in on you and making sure you are okay is even better. Him getting a bath ready and helping you clean up and him feeding you.

Basically what I’m trying to say is fluffy smut with fluffy aftercare is delicious lol

I absolutely love your Rhys fics!!! I’m DEVOURING Love and War and just your Rhys fics on general lol

I hope you’re taking care of yourself and have a great day sweetheart💜💜

I love requests! Send as many as you like! <3 Rhys doesn't get enough love so I've decided to roll up my sleeves and put out as many fics as possible and it makes me so happy to see other people enjoying them as much as me! I hope you like this one! <3

-----

Vacation Days

It's the crackling of logs in the fireplace that awakens you; the hiss of flames and the hint of pine that perfumes the air a gentle alarm clock that makes you roll over onto your side to peer out the window to see how early in the morning it is. The sky is still gray, though it could be the encroaching storm clouds that darken the sky and not the time.

You drag the heavy, fur lined blanket up over your head and bury your face in the pillow. Whatever the case, it's too early! And you're too comfortable to get up.

The bed dips beside you, blankets shifting as another body climbs into the mountain of furs needed to keep out the deep Illyrian chill. Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against a very bare, and very icy chest.

You give a little squeak of discomfort as your mate tosses a leg around your waist, effectively trapping you against his body.

"Rhhhhyyyyssssss," you whine, voice still thick with sleep.

He kisses the top of your head, hands soothing down your back, even as the deep baritone of his laugh rumbles through his chest. "Morning, love."

"No morning. Sleep." You grumble, burying your head in his tattooed chest and squeezing your eyes shut. "We're on vacation. I'm sleeping."

The hand on your back trails lower, until he can, teasingly, give your ass a squeeze. "I can think of a few other activities we could be doing in this bed for our vacation."

In the early morning haze, your shields are completely down, and he slips right into your mind with the ghost of a caress, filling your head with images of your running your tongue along his body, tracing tattoo and muscle as he guides you onto his lap, letting you ride him slowly, leisurely, taking your time until you're both a mess. You can taste the tang of salt from the sweat that clings to his bare skin, hear those soft, breathy moans you love to drag out of him as you roll your hips over his, taking him deeper into your tight heat. Despite your desperate attempts to cling to sleep, heat pools in your lower belly.

"Rhys," you warn.

His other hand slips beneath your nightgown, dragging sensual fingers along your spine as his lips drop to your shoulder and leave slow, deliberate kisses along your exposed flesh.

"I'm not doing anything," he lies, the image he crafts shifting to him rolling you onto your back, his head between your legs, tongue lapping against your center, warm and wet in contrast to the bruising grip his hands keep on your thighs.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight; you can practically feel him inside you already.

"You're a terrible liar," you retort. Especially when the proof of his own arousal is flush against your hips.

His teeth nip at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his own hips rocking just enough that he can claim it’s an accident, even though you know it's not. You've been mated long enough now, you know his tells, can practically taste how much he wants you, even if he’s clever enough to tamper down on it through the bond so it doesn't blast you with the strength of it. Sometimes it still shocks you, just how much he wants you. You'd thought it would fade over time, had kept yourself up at night early in your relationship, convinced that eventually the High Lord of the Night Court would get bored having a simple little healer for a mate, but every day he calms those fears and shows you just how much he loves and wants you.

You can't help the little sigh that escapes you when he gets his lips on your throat, head tilting back reflexively to give him more access. Though your mind knows what it wants, your body moves on instinct, melting in his grip. This is as natural as breathing. The proximity of his body is calming, soothing the irritation of being woken up, filling your body with warmth.

His lips trail over your throat, along the underside of your jaw, warm breath caressing your quickly flushing skin, as he trails over your chin. He fills your mind with more images: You on your stomach, body flush with the mattress as his lips trail up your spine, hands caressing your bare skin in heated touches; the two of you in the shower, bodies slick with soap, caged against the damp stones and his chest, hips rutting leisurely into each other. Each image is a little more intense than the last, the bond flickering with the need he's been trying to hold at bay until you were more awake and ready for it.

You slide your hands over his bare chest, feeling the thundering beat of his heart against your palms as his lips finally slot over yours. Though he is more than ready for you, there is a leisurely pace to his movements; he knows he has time, days even, to have you. You'd come up to Illyria for a long weekend, and the Inner Circle is under strict orders to not contact either of you until you've returned to Velaris. Things have been tense in the city lately, Rhys' office cluttered with all the paperwork necessary to rebuild after the War with Hybern. Your little clinic has been full to the brim for weeks and weeks. Both of you have spent the better part of three months only seeing each other in passing before exhaustion pulls you into bed with little more than a kiss goodnight. You feel that lack of intimacy in his movements, in the way his body moves against yours. There is an air of desperation, only quelled with the knowledge that he can take his time with you.

And you with him. Fully awake now, your senses on alert, you are painfully aware of the ache between your legs. It's been too long. Far too long without this sort of intimacy. Your hands slide up his chest and shoulders, trailing until you can card your fingers through his hair.

He moans against your lips as you scrape your nails against his scalp. "Tell me..." his voice is a ragged, desperate thing, lips brushing with every word like he can't bear to drag himself any further away from your body. "Tell me to stop and I will."

Sleep is distant memory now, though you no longer mind it like you did a few minutes ago. You adjust the placement of your hips and manage to roll him onto his back, hips flush, his erection heavy and hot between your legs. You give your hips a little roll as you brace yourself on your elbows, brushing your chest against his as you lean down to kiss him once more.

"I've been convinced to get up," you tease.

His hands eagerly grip your hips, urging you to grind down on him as his tongue slips behind your teeth. Your bond hums appreciatively at the contact, the months of stress and separation slipping away.

"Although, I hope this doesn't become a habit of yours, you know I need my beauty sleep."

He releases his grip on your hips just long enough to find the hem of your nightgown and push it up and over your shoulders, letting the silken fabric fall somewhere in the pile of blankets you'd disturbed. Deft fingers trace the swell of your breasts, tweaking over nipples pebbled in the cool cabin air, before skimming back down your stomach until he can once again hold your hips.

"How could you possibly get any more beautiful than you already are?" He says, violet eyes tracing every bare inch of you, narrowing in on the lone piece of clothing separating you from him.

You kiss him again, trying to hide the blush that dusts your cheeks. You know he can feel it through the bond, know he knows just how much little things like that mean to you.

"So perfect," he murmurs, chasing after you when you break the kiss. You'd think you had starved him of affection for years on end with the way he keeps coming back, body shifting and rocking beneath you. Soft, little moans leave his lips every time you grind yourself a little harder against his cock, still separate from you by the thin layer of his sleep pants and your violet colored panties. You hadn't been paying too much attention to them when you'd changed last night, but the color and the little bow along the waistband are fitting now.

You try to pull away to rid him of his pants, too many layers between you, but he keeps you locked in place with a grip on your hips that's tight enough to leave a bruise.

"Want you out of these pants," you insist.

A small wave of his fingers has both your clothes disappearing into a random pocket realm for the time being, leaving his hands free to position the tip of his weeping cock against your entrance.

The first drag of his tip through your folds makes your head lull back, mouth falling open as you moan unabashedly. It has been far, far too long since you've been able to enjoy him like this.

"Look at my pretty girl, all ready for my cock," Rhys croons. "What was that about being tired, love?"

"Don't remember," you mumble, hands splaying across his chest to brace yourself as he slides into you an inch at a time.

He grins victoriously. "I've missed this."

It's always a bit of a stretch, taking all of him, especially after so long without him, but despite the desperation that claws down the bond at you, he takes his time, letting you adjust.

"Me too," you say, voice a breathless rasp as you try to find your bearings again. He's everywhere, filling you up so thoroughly you forget why you had reservations at all. You should have spent the whole night with him inside you, making up for lost time.

He's barely sheathed inside you before you start rocking your hips, forgoing all patience and chasing the pleasure that has started to build at the base of your spine. It's too much and not enough. Everything you need and yet not quite within reach yet.

He tuts at your neediness, holding you in place with a chuckle. "What's the rush, Darling?"

You gently drag your nails over the plains of his chest. Later, once the bond is satiated a little more, you'll take your time and run your tongue over every swirl of his tattoos. Let the dark ink lead you steadily down between his legs so you can take his glorious cock down your throat, but right now... right now the last three months are obvious in every coiled muscle of your body. You need him to move, hard and fast; to fill you up until the absence no longer feels like such a gaping wound.

"Move, please, Rhys," you beg.

He temporarily lets go of your hips so he can prop himself up on his elbows and kiss you properly, hips shifting upwards, cock driving deeper into your aching core.

You use the freedom to roll your hips, savoring the slight burn as he stretches you out further, body adjusting to his size. It's all a delicious torture you'll come back to time and time again.

You're not going to last very long at this rate, but there's no stopping your body from slowing down, from trying to savor it. The bond knows you still have days left to be slow. When he pulls out of the kiss, your lips automatically drop to his neck, kissing and sucking as many marks into his skin as you can.

One of his hands soothes down your back as the other goes back to your hip, helping you follow the quick pace of his thrusts as he slides almost all the way out of you and then right back in.

"So perfect," he purrs as he hits the spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Your natural reaction to the stimulation is to clamp your teeth down on his shoulder, and he lets out a groan that makes the coil in your belly even tighter. You love it when he's vocal for you, when he doesn't hold back the obvious sounds of his own enjoyment. Sometimes he gets too focused on your pleasure that he loses sight of his own.

Your bodies find a smooth rhythm, the headboard tapping the wall with the rocking motion of your bodies. The air filled with the sounds of your joining and the soft crackle of flames in the fire place. The flames cast your bodies in an orange halo, you trace the fractions of light across his bronze skin with your lips, just as his hands trace your skin.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, chanted and recited like worship as your bodies meet over and over again. Stars blur across your vision, maybe from your mate, maybe from the bond, it is hard to tell at this point. Not that it matters, as long as the heat coiled in the base of your spine continues to spread and fill you.

Rhys' hand slips between your legs, rubbing tight circles into your dripping heat. He hums appreciatively at the wetness that spills down your thighs, coating his cock in a milky rings as he slides in and out of you.

"'m'close," you murmur into his neck, where you've left a darkening bruise with your teeth. He looks so pretty all marked up by you.

His thrusts stutter at your words, losing the rhythm for a moment as you feel the muscles in his abdomen tighten against your pelvis. "Let go, I've got you," he assures, lips dusting over yours. He won't be far behind.

His fingers rub circles against your clit, drawing that blissful edge closer and closer with every pass. Your breath stutters out of you, hips rocking without rhythm, trying to chase the white hot pleasure that licks up your spine.

His own motions chase after yours, finding the rhythm again, hitting the perfect spot inside you once, twice, and a third before your orgasm crests and washes over you. The clenching of your core around his aching cock drives him into his own release, hips stuttering as he fills you with his own release.

Your bodies slow their movements as you collapse on top of his chest, sticky with sweat and your joint release. His heartbeat slows, becoming steady against your cheek as he catches his breath, hands soothing down your back.

"Did so good for me," he coos, lips pressing soft kisses against the top of your head.

You let your eyes drift shut as you catch your breath, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his body as you come down from your high. The bond finally quiets, content for now, and you stroke a mental hand down it, letting him know just how much he means to you through it.

Once you've both come down from your highs, he rolls you over onto your side so he can slide out of you, lips gently caressing yours when you wince from the over-stimulation. "I'll be right back."

Even though you believe it, it's still a loss, the lack of warmth obvious from the moment he leaves the bed to fill the tub with water. You need him back in your arms immediately and you will not be soothed until it is so.

Like he knows this, he's back quickly, but instead of sliding back under the covers, he lifts you up into his arms and carries you to the bathroom, where the tub is full of bubbles and sweet, jasmine scented oils. He doesn't even try to let go of you, especially not when you have your face buried in his neck, just steps into the tub and settles you comfortably in his lap in the delicious heat of the tub.

A sigh escapes your lips as the heat licks up your aching muscles, body relaxing as you close your eyes again. Rhys' hands sooth up your sides, drawing simple patterns into your skin as he rests his head atop yours.

"Are you all right, Darling?"

You let your own fingers trace the water droplets that adorn his tattooed chest, movements leisurely and slow. You can take your time now. "Perfect."

He leans back against the tub with a hum of approval. A flick of his wrist makes the lights dim and candles along the counter flair to life, bathing the room in a soft glow that feels like it's made to match the flicker of starlight you feel dancing around the bridge between your souls.

"I've missed you," you say as you tilt your head back to look at him.

Rhys presses a kiss to your temple as his magic brings a matching set of champagne glasses and bottle to sit along the edge of the tub. "We've spent too long apart," he agrees as a shadow of his power moves to pour the champagne for him. "Let's definitely not make a habit of it."

You take the glass despite the bubbles that drip from your hands and tap it against his in toast. "Agreed."

To go with your drink, a plate of fruits and pastries appears, the later still warm, a curl of steam slipping out the sides. You raise a brow at him. "Whose oven are you pulling these out of?"

He grins as he takes a grape off the plate and offers it to you. "Maybe I made them before you woke up."

The fruit bursts in your mouth, but even the pleasant flavor isn't enough to distract you. "Darling, you are many things, but a pastry chef is not one of them."

"Fair enough," he concedes, bringing a strawberry to your lips this time.

After months of tending to so many other people, it is nice to have someone taking care of you. Your muscles relax further against his body, letting the gentle lapping of the water soothe any residual discomfort as he feeds you.

"I thought about making you something I could cook, but I didn't want to leave you alone that long. We only have so much time before we have to go back."

You take a sip of your champagne and reach for a croissant with chocolate dripping from the sides, but he snags it first and brings it within reach of your mouth for you.

"Maybe we should extend our vacation," you don't like the heaviness you feel when he sighs, not when you finally have a moment to not think about it. "Just for another day or two?"

He steals a bite of your croissant as he thinks about it.

"Amren can handle things for one more day," you suggest as you drag your fingers between the plains of his chest. "We've earned a vacation and more than our fair share of rest."

He leans down to kiss you gently. "That you have, Darling."

"Both of us," you press. "Besides, I didn't get out of our comfy bed for nothing, I think we still have some catching up to do."

Stars glitter in his violet eyes as he takes his glass from the edge of the tub and taps it against yours in another toast. "Yes we do."

[astralis-ortus]

i'll keep you in a photograph

✱ crush!sm x fem!reader

— it's just a silly little crush.

w.count → 2.5k genre → romance warning → minor cussing, appearances by other 4/8 skz and itzy's ryujin, menace lee know in action, also no use of y/n whatsoever at all a.n → time to celebrate because we're finally debuting a seungmin fic!🎊 i wasn't even planning for the fic to be this long, but i guess it is what it is, lol. also! do let me know if you would like a part 2 to this fic! ⋆ if you're enjoying my stories, do send me a ko-fi ⋆ see masterlist

you've never been much of a sports fan in the first place.

the burning ambition, loud cheers, and massive crowds—it's just simply not your thing. really, you have nothing against the people who loves sports, but if given the choice between a vip ticket to the next biggest sports match and a week-long, peaceful getaway at the countryside,

you would absolutely chose the latter in a heartbeat.

hence,

with that image of you in mind,

imagine the surprise amongst your group of friends when you told them that in your right mind, with zero drops of alcohol flowing in your blood, you had stepped in to be one of the volunteer game photographer for your campus' next baseball game.

"i don't believe you," felix shook his head, golden locks swaying in unison, "what do you mean you just want to? you don't even like going to popular cafes—how are you supposed to deal with a baseball crowd? do you even know how massive that game would be?"

"pretty sure someone forced her," ryujin sighed, lines between her eyebrows still clearly visible beneath the stray strands of hair as she faced hyunjin on her right, "told you those people at the photography club seemed suspicious. why didn't you listen and joined with her? they won't be able to take advantage of her like this if you're there!"

"guys—"

"why is it my fault?" hyunjin protested, quickly pointing his manicured nails in your direction, "she's the one who signed up to the club without any of us knowing! it's not like i didn't want to join the club too—they already closed the form before i could try signing up!"

"hey—"

"you could've gone earlier!"

"how am i supposed to know?"

"you could've—"

"guys!"

the bickering between the two immediately ceased as the three pair of eyes now locked in your direction, visibly surprised at the tone of your voice. to be fair, you do understand why your friends are acting the way they are, but god, they're starting to sound more like a couple of overprotective parent and a childish sibling at this point.

"no one forced me, i promise," you sighed, quietly fidgeting with your fingers under the cafeteria table. you do admit it's far too weird for you to be doing all this, but you have your reason. "i'll be fine, you don't have to worry about me too much. i'll be okay."

"besides," you quickly continued upon noticing the persisting worry in your friends' eyes, "it's about time i start doing new stuff like this. i don't want to feel like i'm wasting my last years as a student and graduate with regret. okay?"

only then does your friends' eyes seem to soften, worry now replaced by relief.

"if you say so," felix became the first one to smile, hand gently patting your shoulder, "but don't go overboard with it, okay? try to go to the practice sessions first so you could gauge the situation for game day."

"felix's right," both hyunjin and ryujin added at the same time, quickly glaring at each other before focusing back at you.

"i can go with you to the practices," ryujin volunteered, frown lines already replaced with a beaming smile, "i happen to know one of the assistant coach, he'll let us watch if i ask him!"

"pretty sure you just want to see that legendary pitcher—ow!" hyunjin quickly rubbed out the sting from ryujin's slap on his shoulder, and between her glare, hyunjin's protest, and felix's laugh,

no one seemed to notice the faint shade of blush, slowly creeping on your cheeks.

the fresh spring air of seoul eagerly fills your lungs—quietly reminding you of a distant memory when life was nothing more than running around the field of your grandparents' countryside home. you might be a quiet kid, but that never stopped you from exploring every nook and cranny you could find around the vicinity of the well-maintained traditional house.

today, however,

you're planning on making a new memory for yourself.

as it turns out, ryujin does actually know the assistant coach for the campus' baseball team. chris, as he introduced himself, is also a personal trainer at the gym ryujin frequents, explaining the unexpected connection—much to hyunjin's dismay, though, who was really looking forward for a new reason to tease ryujin. both you and felix could only shook your heads, each wondering when (or if) the two will ever stop bickering with each other.

the first few practice session you attended with ryujin was a lot more fun than you had expected it to be. maybe it was ryujin's friendliness that helped lowered the players' guards down around the new faces watching, but everyone seemed very welcoming to the addition of you and your camera around the perimeters of the field.

you, on the other hand, also got to learn about where and when to snap the best pictures, along with the terms to help you understand better about whatever is going on in the field during the game. had felix not popped the idea to watch these practice sessions, you probably won't be able to do your best for the upcoming game day, and you definitely will need to treat your friends to some chicken and beer later as a thank you.

for today's practice round, however,

you're left all alone.

you don't blame ryujin—she has her own class related stuff to tend to, and besides, her coming with you for the first few times were already more than enough. you've grown far more comfortable being around the considerably sized crowd and you know your ways around the place should you need some time away, but all in all, you know you're doing a lot better now, thanks to ryujin's help.

"oh, you're here!" chris were the first one to spot you, waving with his dimpled smile on display, "ryujin told me you'd be on your own today. will you be okay?"

"of course," you mirrored the older's smile, finally standing next to the casually dressed assistant coach at the edge of the field, "she's too worried, but i'll be fine. it's not like i'm the one running around, hitting the balls anyway."

chris cracked a laugh at your joke, relieved that you don't seem to be as tense as you were when he first met you. "well that's great, then," he hummed in content, smiling in your direction, "feel free to walk around the usual space, today's practice won't be as hard the ones before so you should be able to get better shots."

and surely, you did.

like the usual round, chris had to monitor the practice and hence, you're left to explore the media pit on your own. you greeted some of the players you've gotten acquainted with while they wait for their turn, and you also managed to snap some new shots to submit to the campus website and journalist club. it might be a volunteer event, but hey, you have to be strategic with your portfolio, right?

"at this rate, your crush might as well be broadcasted from the speakers, you know."

the sudden voice coming from your left nearly made you drop your camera.

"what crush?" you throw a protest—albeit sounding more like a squeak—at minho, the other assistant coach you've gotten acquainted with through your time at the field. "i'm just doing my job here," you continued, shaking your head before again raising your camera,

while also attempting to mask the rising tempo of your heartbeat.

"you can't fool me like you fool the others," minho chuckled, lips tugged into a lopsided smile while he crossed his arms in amusement, "i can clearly see where your lenses are pointed, so there's really no use in lying to me."

crap.

"you're just saying nonsense to bother me," you huffed, trying to keep your cool behind the camera while attempting your best to hide the flush on your face from minho. even if you're about to get your cover blown, you'd rather not get it done by the menace that minho is.

sure, it hasn't been long since you've been introduced to minho, but for reasons only god and minho himself knows, the guy seems to just weirdly pick on you out of the blue and as it turns out, he's quite a psychic too.

"well then if that's not the case," minho shrugged, quietly extending a palm at you, "can i see the pictures you've taken today?"

"no!"

and only after you saw the maniacal smirk plastered across minho's face as you clutched the camera close to your heart that your realized,

your cover is blown.

[ weeks ago ]

honestly, you don't think you'll be joining any clubs this year.

it's not that you don't want to—you actually do, considering you're the only one of your quartet who still hasn't really decided on anything to do outside of your classes, but nothing seems to be piquing your interest just yet.

staring down at your phone, you're trying to find your last resort—the photography club. to be fair, you're not a major photography geek in the first place. yes, you do like taking pictures and you do go out of your way to learn the basics of photography, but that's about it. despite everyone telling you that you're good at it, you've never viewed photography as something more than just a hobby.

"it should be—ow!"

the sudden force against your shoulder sent your phone straight to the hard surface of your campus building's floor, inviting several gasps to be heard between the decorated walls—including one of your own.

"shit—i'm really sorry, are you okay?"

before you could even react, a hand had reached for your phone and quickly dusted the screen off before offering the device back to you. "i'm really sorry about this, i'm in a bit of a hurry and i wasn't looking. are you okay? is your shoulder alright?"

in all honesty? no, you're not okay.

"yeah, it's okay. i'm at fault too," you grimaced, noting the dull ache on your shoulder while reluctantly grabbing your phone, hoping for the safety of your screen, "i'm so—"

any remaining air left in your lungs seemed to get caught in your throat as soon as your eyes found the pair staring right at yours, catching you off guard. even under the navy ballcap he's wearing, the depth of his eyes had successfully lured the remaining pieces of rationale beyond you.

"look," he continued, snapping you out of your trance, "i'm in a hurry right now, but if by any chance i accidentally broke your phone, you can come find me today at the baseball field at 5pm and i'll take full responsibility. sounds good?"

your head had nodded even before you could even entirely process what just happened to you—were you just bewitched by a guy in a navy ballcap?

"alright, good," the figure finally broke out a smile, already taking his steps to the direction opposite of yours, "thank you! i appreciate it!"

and just as you realized you haven't gotten the mysterious guy's name, you caught a glimpse of the small embroidered name at the back of his jacket before he disappeared at the end of the hallway.

kim seungmin.

[ present day ]

you're so going to kill minho.

after the stunt he pulled off earlier, it didn't take you a second to take off from his crime scene, tightly holding your pandora's box of a camera while you try and find a spot to hide from minho—but most importantly, from seungmin.

you know seungmin probably won't realize that you were gone, but the horror that minho might've spoiled your little secret to seungmin himself made you a little bit nauseous.

in your defense, you weren't expecting anything to happen between you and seungmin. sure, you joined the photography club solely because you've seen their coverage during previous baseball season and were hoping you could be one of the people to document seungmin's journey as a u-league player, but that's it.

it was just a silly little crush—nothing more.

"uh, hey."

the speed it took you to look at the figure standing across nearly got you to pull a muscle—and if it wasn't enough, the fact that seungmin is indeed the owner of the voice calling out to you were ready to be the cherry on top.

"minho hyung told me to give this to you as an apology," he offered a can of coffee, smiling at you depite being visibly unsure about what he's currently doing. "i thought he should've gave this to you himself but, you know, minho hyung is… yeah, he can be kind of weird."

you couldn't help but laugh at seungmin's comment, accepting the surprisingly warm can as you shrugged, "he is weird. thank you, though, for giving me this in his stead. you didn't have to."

"don't mention it," seungmin smiled—and again, your heart skipped a beat. "i'm on my way too, anyway. it's cool."

"on your way?" you questioned, words already rolling off your lips even before you could process your own thoughts. to be fair, the spot you ran away to were exactly the opposite of the baseball fields' exit gate—which doesn't make sense, if seungmin were on his way out.

"sorry—i didn't mean to pry," you quickly backtracked before seungmin could answer, already preparing to leave the shaded bench you've been staying at for the past 40 minutes or so. "i think i better leave. thank you again for—"

"wait!"

your eyes doubled in size when seungmin stepped in your way, preventing you from moving further. it seemed like he's also surprised at himself, judging from the way his eyes had mirrored yours.

"i, uh," clearing his throat, you noticed the hesitance in his face before seungmin then pointed at the phone in your hand, "is your phone working just fine? nothing broke?"

…oh.

oh?

"you… remembered?" you took a step back, nearly tumbling back at the bench had seungmin not grabbed your wrist, equally as surprised as you are. only after you convinced him that you're okay is when seungmin willingly dropped his hold on your arm.

"well, of course i remembered," seungmin nervously chuckled, subconsciously rubbing his nape, "i was the one who sent your phone flying, so… i feel responsible. i mean i was glad you didn't came that day since it meant your phone was okay and i've actually been meaning to ask since i realized it was you who came to take our pictures, but…"

you quietly anticipated between the pause, granting seungmin the time to explain as he shrugged and continued,

"i kind of feel like a creep if you didn't remember me since i realized i didn't actually give you my name that day."

so he did realize…?

frankly, it felt like your brain is short circuiting—so seungmin remembers you? why? was he just curious about your phone? was he waiting for you to come? why would he feel like a creep? what is happening right now?

"and since i didn't get to give you my name that day," seungmin continued, eyes reflecting a newfound determination amidst the persisting worry,

"can i get your number this time?"

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[dwaekkicidal]

Beomgyu at 9:37PM (21:37)

[original ask] no warnings other that slightly angsty if u squint (gyu cries briefly but its happy tears) <3 gender neutral reader & a slice of life with boyfie! gyu

Beomgyu is currently lying on his stomach in his bed, his face shoved into the pillows as he whines into them, "'S not fair..." His voice is muffled, catching your attention, and you can't help but laugh on the other side of the phone when your eyes finally focus on the screen.

"I know, bubs. But you have an early schedule tomorrow, you need to rest." You pick up your phone and take carry it with you into the bathroom, setting it up against the wall so that you're in the camera's view. Beomgyu still doesn't look up despite the ruffling sounds and only groans louder into this pillows.

"I jus' wanna see you... It's been so long..." He whispers it into the plush of his pillow, but the silence in your apartment allows you to hear it. It pulls at your heartstrings and you find your mood souring slightly, knowing how little time the two of you have gotten together recently. And the one day he managed to get home early, is the one day you already had plans with your friends to hang out. And the plan was to be out all night since you were off the next day...

You sigh quietly and go back to fixing your hair in the mirror, perfecting it to your liking before double checking your outfit. "I'm sorry, baby. You know I would drop everything for you if we hadn't been planning this for weeks."

You don't know how you convinced yourself to step foot into the restaurant after saying goodbye to Beomgyu. He had whined himself to sleep after what you said, but only after surprisingly encouraging you to go out with your friends. As much as he missed you, he wasn't going to keep you from your friends if it's what you wanted.

It took far too long for you to get over the heartache of seeing his face in your head during dinner. The only thing that comforted you out of your feels was the small change of plans you decided as you chowed down. Your friends would live with you leaving a few hours early...

The front door clicks open at an ungodly hour, still somehow a lot earlier than you had planned to be out with your friends. Nonetheless, you slide out of your shoes and leave them by the front door before making sure to lock up all the way.

As you make your way through the silent apartment, you smile to yourself at the familiar scent and scenery that you haven't seen in god knows how long. And soon enough, you're sneaking into a familiar room and rummaging through one of the dresser drawers, tugging your clothes off before sliding a slightly larger t-shirt over your head.

"Beomie~" You sing-song softly as you slide under the sheets, the warmth offering comfort compared to the biting cold that you just experienced outside.

In the back of his sleep-ridden mind, he genuinely thinks its all a dream; your warm hands running up and down his arms, your quiet, soft voice that's followed by a slight gust of wind on his face. He's smiling slightly at the thought of you, making you smile and poke him around a few more times. You're eventually met with his beautiful eyes, lidded with sleep and blinking repeatedly in an attempt to see properly.

"Hi Beomie~ Sorry to wake you, but I thought you'd like to know I was here." It takes him a moment to process what's happening, you having to assist by cupping his face and soothing his cheek with your thumb, but it's painfully obvious the second it clicks.

"My baby..." His voice cracks slightly and your eyes adjust to the darkness just in time to see his lips downturn and his eyes start to water.

"Oh honey-" You laugh and pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. He instantly melts into you, sliding his arms around you as he shoves his face into your neck. He lets out quiet sniffles as he nuzzles farther into your neck.

Eventually those sniffles turn into small huffs as he tries to calm his breathing on his own. He only find success once your nails trail up and down his back, scratching him lightly in a way he finds soothing enough to lull him back to sleep. But he missed you, dearly, and nothing is gonna get in the way of him at least talking to you for a few minutes.

"What time is it?"

"I dunno... Like 2AM?" You can feel him make a stank face so you laugh and rub his back, assuring him that you sent him texts updating him throughout the night even though you knew he was asleep. He grumbles something against your neck in response but both of you are too tired to bother.

"Gyu?" He pushes his lips into your jaw and and pulls away slightly, just enough so that your noses touch and your eyes meet, his own slightly puffy. "I didn't tell you yet but I spoke to my manager and found out I have a few vacation days that I have to take before the end of next month or else I'll lose them, so I took all of next week off since your schedule is more clear then." He doesn't need to say anything, the way he squeezes you as a wide smile breaks out onto his face says it all.

"You're so perfect... I love you so much, baby. Stay tomorrow? I'll leave early and we can go to lunch... Mmmh- maybe even dinner...?" Sleepiness riddles his sentence and you can see his eyes drooping again, so you opt out of fighting it and just let things be, just this once <3

"Good night Gyu. I love you~"

Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

[puppycvntt]

(I'm a writer so hearing "Oh yeah, please keep sending me horny thoughts in my inbox" is like a dream to me lol. Here is one that is a bit longer than the other one I sent lmao.)

You had been left alone all day, your puppy parts aching to be filled yet no one was home with you to stuff them. You knew you'd be in trouble if you touched them yourself without permission so sitting on the living room floor suffering was the only option.

You finally hear the front door open, your owner walking in still in his work clothes. You try to speak but all that comes out is a whine, your owner chuckling down at you as he pets your hair. He notices that you are simply in his t-shirt and boxers, his hand sliding to your waist.

"Did you miss me, puppy?" He asks, his hand sliding from your waist down to cup your clothed puppycunt. He chuckles once more as he feels the soaking wet mess through the fabric of your boxers, rubbing your parts gently. "Aww you did, didn't you? I bet your greedy puppy parts missed me too. Come on, let's take care of this mess."

He guides you by your waist into the living room, dropping his work bag by the door as he walks further int the house. He sits down on the couch and pats his thigh, leading you to jump right into his lap. His hands immediately find your waist, his face burying into your neck. The kisses there start gentle, his voice a breath against your neck.

"I'm so proud of you, not touching all day while I was gone. I know it must've been torture sweetheart but don't worry, your owner will stuff you nice and full as a reward." His voice was a bit gruff, his own desire shining through.

In the blink of an eye, he's sliding your boxers down and undoing his work pants, his tdick rubbing at your entrance in a swift motion. He was hard and wet, making you realize he must have wanted this all day too. Without a single word, he pushes inside. A grunt leaves his lips while a whine leaves you, burying your face into his neck. His grip on your waist tightens as he guides you up and down, making sure you go at the pace he wants you to. Your legs were getting tired and of course he noticed, all good owners would, so instead of you riding him, he starts to fuck up into you. You were his personal toy, only able to grip at his hair and smell his scent to keep yourself grounded.

"Stupid fucking mutt, needing me to pound his pussy so bad that he soaked himself." He had growled into your ear, making you nibble at his neck to keep yourself from screaming. "I'm gonna breed this pretty little puppy cunt just like you want."

With that, he's cumming, stuffing you full just like he had promised. Your vision goes white as you come down from your own high, panting against his neck. He rubs your back as he stays inside you, keeping you filled up.

"I told you i'd breed this pretty pussy, you like being filled by your owner huh? Don't worry, I'm sure you'll feel full for days until I can stuff you again."

(I am sorry this is so intense for an anon write but I had the idea and you saying I should keep sending sparked me to write it. Enjoy!)

-🪐

please don’t apologize… i like it intense that way >_< you really know exactly what to say to get me sopping wet in a second!!! a very good pup handler you are… <3

[aestheticaltcow]

Yes I Would

Part 2 of the Worm series!

Technically, I'm not done with finals, and this is probably gonna be a four-part series because it got hella long...

Previous Part

The Bear Masterlist

“Carmen, it’s 2 AM. Why did I need to come out here?” Richie yawned as he sat on a stool by the bartop next to Carmy. He didn’t respond to the question. Richie shot him a look, “Kid. What’s going on?” 

“Y/N’s pregnant.” Carmy softly responded as he brought his beer bottle to his lips. 

Richie sat up, dumbfounded by his response. “You knocked her up? Didn’t realize your balls dropped already.” 

Richie’s attempt at lightening the situation made Carmy roll his eyes. “Fuck off, Richard.” 

“Nah, cousin. That’s great. She’s a good girl. I figured you’d settle down with her at one point… maybe sooner than anyone expected, but that’s great.” Richie rambled, “One time- you were like two, so I doubt you remember, Mike and I were throwing beer caps at you-”

“She doesn’t want it, Richie,” Carmy said, cutting Richie off mid-sentence. He stared at the ceiling as he spoke. 

“Please say something, Carmy…” your voice was shaky as you spoke. Carmy clicked his tongue as he pushed his hands through his hair. He nervously laughed as he looked up at the ceiling. “Carmy?”

“Okay… okay. Is this a discussion?” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re tellin’ me you’re pregnant and that you don’t want it in the same fuckin’ sentence, Y/N. Why are you even fuckin’ tellin’ me if you don’t fuckin’ want it?” 

You stared at him, dumbfounded by his reaction. “Carmy, we’ve only been together for eight months-”

“So?” Carmy scoffed, “I love you. Would it be the end of the world if you had my kid?” 

“Carmen,” you scolded, “Are you seriously equating our love for each other to my willingness to have a baby with you?!”

“Babies aren’t always planned but-”

“Carmen! It’s my fuckin’ body!” you yelled, cutting him off. “Just- just get out.”

“So yeah… not sure what to do…” Carmy mumbled as he fiddled with his napkin. 

Richie sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He remembered when Tiff told him she was pregnant with Eva, granted it was planned, and the two had been married for a decade. Richie didn’t know what to say to Carmy. He just sat beside Carmy and remembered when he was five or six. Mikey was in charge of watching him while he played in the yard that afternoon. 

Richie and Mikey were sitting on the porch steps talking about something that had happened at school a few days prior when Carmy came running up to the pair with a rock in his hands. “L-l-look Mikey! I-I fou-und a rock!” Carmy excitedly stuttered. His eyes gleamed with excitement. Richie watched as Mikey went to ruffle Carmy’s hair and took the rock from his hands, “That’s a cool one, Carmy. Find another, yeah?” Mikey encouraged. Carmy nodded and ran off to a different part of the yard. 

Richie leaned an elbow against the bar, supporting his head in his palm. He looked at Carmy. He remembered all the times he and Mikey had been able to make him feel better. He remembered when they had to take Carmy to the emergency room when he was eight and broke his arm when he fell from a tree. He remembered when he and Mikey would go to his wrestling meets. He remembered shoving him in the closet and refusing to let him out until he admitted to having a crush on some girl in his class when he was in high school. He remembered watching him sheepishly walk across the stage when he graduated high school and watched Mikey sneak cash into his backpack when they dropped him off at the airport when Carmy left for culinary school. Carmy was more than his best friend's little brother. He helped raise that kid. 

“Sometimes, you have to fight for what you want,” Richie said, finally breaking his silence. Carmy looked up at him, “You can’t make her have the baby, but you can’t walk away without a fight, Carm.”

Carmy scoffed at the advice, “Richie- She kicked me out of her place when I tried talking to her about it. She doesn’t want to keep the baby, and I don’t think I can support-”

“Shut the fuck up, Carmen.” Richie cut him off. He shifted in his seat to face Carmy. “You were man enough to have sex with her. You need to be man enough to stand beside her and support whatever decision she makes. Abortion, no abortion, having the baby and giving it up for adoption, keeping the baby and staying with you, whatever that girl chooses; you give it your 100%.” 

Carmy grimaced at the advice Richie had given him, “Sober up. Go see your girl.”

~

Carmy didn’t take Richie’s advice. That night, he went back to his place and kicked his shoes off after locking the door behind himself. He stumbled as he headed into his bedroom. As he collapsed onto his bed, he was engulfed by the lingering smell of your perfume. Carmy rolled his body into the middle of his bed and stared at the ceiling; you should be here. 

He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, but he woke up in a cold sweat. He abruptly sat up and looked to his left to see your absence. Carmy closed his eyes and leaned back against his headboard. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before leaning over to grab his phone from his side table. 

No new text messages. No missed calls.

You always texted him ‘good morning’ when you weren’t together. Carmy huffed and dropped his phone before gazing back at the ceiling.

You woke up that morning and resisted the urge to contact Carmy. It felt wrong, but with how telling him you were pregnant had ended, some distance felt like a good idea. After getting out of bed that morning, you walked into the bathroom to shower before going to the office.

As you waited for the water to heat up, you looked at your reflection in the mirror. If you hadn’t done that blood test, you wouldn’t know you were pregnant. You put a hand on your stomach and felt it twist. Maybe Carmy had a point. Babies aren’t always- “Snap the fuck out of it, Y/N.” you scolded yourself as you tried to shake the thought of keeping it. “You are not, I repeat, NOT, ready to be a fuckin’ mother.” you thought aloud. You stepped into the shower and let the hot water run over your face, “Just forget about it today…” you mumbled as you quickly scrubbed yourself down with body wash.

You couldn’t focus at work that day. Everything made you think about Carmy. As you reached to grab your phone from your bag, there was a knock on your office door. “Come in,” you called, dropping your phone back into your bag. 

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, I have good news for you.” Your manager smiled as he entered your office. You shot him a suspicious look. “I swear it’s good news,” he said defensively, putting his hands up. We’re opening another new office in New York, and YOU are going to be in charge of it—if you want to, of course. Imagine Houston, but permanent. You’ll get a raise and housing allowance and set the whole office up however you want- your ship.” 

You were speechless, “Ryan, I-I-”

“Y/N. Take the job. Do you want to be someone in the writing and editing world? New York is where you do it. Please, just think about it. I need an answer by the end of the month.” 

~

“You talk to her?” Richie asked without looking up from his notebook. Carmy huffed in response as he pulled his chef jacket from his locker.

“No.” 

“Why not?” Richie snapped, putting his notebook on the locker area bench. 

Carmy sighed, “I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Carmen. If you’re man enough-”

“Richie, I don’t want to talk about this here.” Carmy cut him off and put his phone in his locker before walking to the kitchen. Richie rolled his eyes and pulled his phone from his pocket. If Carmy wouldn’t do anything about this, he knew some people who would. 

“CARMEN ANTHONY BERZATTO!” a blood-curdling scream came through the kitchen in the middle of dinner service. Carmy dropped his knife mid-cut and turned to see Donna standing just inside the kitchen, the swinging doors that separated the dining room from the kitchen still swinging. “I fuckin’ raised you better than this young man!” she screamed as she stomped closer to where Carmy had been cooking. Waiters and line cooks separated like the red sea as she grabbed Carmy’s bicep and pulled him through the kitchen toward the back entrance. 

“Ma- what the fuck?!” Carmy finally yelled back when the two were in the alley. 

“Why did I find out you got your little girlfriend pregnant from Heather Jerimovich?” she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest as she tapped her foot impatiently. Carmy sucked in a breath as Donna glared at him. “Well?!”

“Uh-uh-” Carmy started as he pushed up the sleeves of his chef coat; he was lost for words. He never expressly told Richie to keep all of this to himself, but the implication was there. 

“Carmen. Anthony. Berzatto. Answer me. Now.” Donna snarled as her glare intensified. Carmy breathed out and pushed his hands through his hair as he thought about explaining this situation to the mother, who hadn’t really cared about him for most of his life. 

“She doesn’t know if she wants to keep it…” Carmy answered softly, unable to look at her as he explained, “Ma- she wants to abort my kid. Okay?” Carmy’s voice trembled as he pushed his hands into his pockets and stared at his kitchen clogs. 

“What?” Donna’s voice softened as she watched Carmy shrink as he spoke. Donna knew she hadn’t been the most attentive mother but knew when her son needed her. “Com’er,” she spoke, opening her arms and beckoning Carmy for a hug. Carmy sighed and stepped into the hug, resting his forehead on her shoulder. She hugged him tightly and began rubbing gentle circles on his back. “It’s gonna be okay..”

~

You were lying in bed staring at the ceiling when you heard knocking on your door. It was almost two, and you weren’t expecting anyone—it had to be Carmy. “You can do this, Y/N… you can do this.” You hyped yourself up as you got out of bed, wrapping your comforter around you as you walked through your apartment to the front door. 

“Hey..” you said softly when you opened the door just a sliver.

“Can I come in?” Carmy asked. You felt yourself melt when your eyes met his. He was tired, and you saw the undertones of hurt and admiration as he stared back at you. You nodded and opened the door more, moving to the side to allow Carmy into your apartment. 

“I know- I know I can’t tell you want to-to do with your body.” Carmy started as soon as you’d closed the door. “Pl-please. Can we talk about the baby?” his voice cracked as he spoke. You adjusted your comforter on your shoulders as you nudged your head toward the couch.

The two of you sat on the couch awkwardly. You took a deep breath before you spoke, “Carmy… I couldn’t do it…” you tenderly spoke as you wrapped your comforter around yourself tighter. “I uh- they had to confirm I was pregnant and uh- they did, they did a sonogram… the heartbeat sounded like a horse running. I never thought I’d be one of those women, you know? I was sure I would go through with it, but when I heard the heartbeat… it was so beautiful.” you confessed. “You were saying how sometimes babies aren’t planned-”

Carmy’s sob was what cut you off midsentance. You looked up at him, and he silently reached for you. You moved closer and allowed him to pull you into his lap. “We're gonna have a baby,” Carmy murmured as he rested his forehead against yours. You grinned and pushed your fingers into Carmy’s hair.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” you confirmed, “We’re gonna have a baby…”

[marshmallowprotection]

Nightmare prompts, 12 for Suit? :)

That strangled crease in his brow told you all you needed to know, and as Saeran attempted to catch his breath, you scanned his body for signs of an injury. It wasn't like him to visit you in the middle of the day... and for him to look like a wild animal who just learned how to open the cage door, you knew something had to be wrong.

Fortunately, he wasn’t physically injured but the dodgy look in his eyes said that he’d been hurt somewhere deep within his mind. The most curious part of it all? Instead of stumbling to his feet to find his so-called Savior, he ran to you instead. He told you time again that he couldn't care less for you, and what would inevitably happen to you if he grew bored with his "game".

Yet, he came here.

“Saeran, are you… okay?” As if realizing his mistake only once he heard your voice, he scoffed. “A-As if I need you. I just had to make sure you weren’t going to do something stupid.” 

“You haven’t caught your breath,” you told him in a quiet voice. It wasn’t like him to slow down, but if he kept going at that rate, he’d knock himself out. “I’m not in a hurry. Take a second to clear your thoughts and breathe.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Despite his protests, you could see him fumble from left to right, moving to hook an end chair underneath the knob to block anyone from going in or coming out. There was no lock on the inside, something that had been chosen by design, Ray’s design, but it seemed to be to Saeran’s detriment now. He wasn't... he wasn't okay... not by any means.

His expression screamed desperation.

He came to you when he needed someone, even if he couldn't bring himself to say it.

You didn't dare get closer to him in the fear that he might run away again. But, all the same, you wanted to hold onto the hope that he would let you help him. You asked, "...What happened?"

He scoffed. You didn't expect any less, though. He wasn't the type to talk about his feelings. The breathless, condescending laugh burned through his lungs as he didn't dare look back at you. "You're just so useless at your job, toy! I can't close my eyes for one minute without imagining all the ways you're screwing me over! One more bad day in that chatroom and boom! You're dead!"

That explanation didn't make it sound like he was upset at you.

Still, you decided to press a little harder, "You're... having nightmares about my well-being?"

You could see him tremble as he continued to stare at the door to hide his eyes from you. If you didn't know any better, he was trying his damnedest to hide his eyes. You always knew the truth when you looked into his eyes.

"As if I would have nightmares! Nightmares are for the weakest of us all! You and Ray, you're one in the same. You've got both got them in your head because you don't know what it feels like to be strong! To... to be strong is to be unyielding in the face of terror! Do I look weak to you?! Are you mocking me?!"

"Why would I think you're weak? Everyone gets nightmares, Saeran. It doesn't mean you're weak... it just means you're human."

As he spun around to face you, his blue eyes fraught with tears, he shouted, "I'm not allowed to be human! I'm only allowed to be strong!"

You dropped everything in an instant, not caring what might happen to you in the process as you dashed across the room and threw your arms around his shoulders. Much to your surprise, he didn't shove at your body to remove your presence, but he couldn't bring himself to hold you, either. He just stood there, tears flowing down his cheeks, a silent, agonizing plea for something more than what he was allowed dancing across his ever-beating heart.

"Not with me, not in here," you whispered. "You can be human as long as you're with me."

[bombusbombus]

Fuck fancastings I'm gonna do that shit myself. I don't trust anyone else to do it right.

[every-sanji]

[medicinemane]

Few things piss me off more than when I'm researching something, and I find someone asking the question I want answered, and the response is just "you shouldn't want that, just do this instead"

Today, it's me trying to look up a build for this witch farm concept that uses raid captains to manipulate the witches ai instead of using redstone

"Just use the shifting floors farms, they're just about as good" people respond... you stupid prick, that's not an answer to the question actually asked. I don't know about these guys, but me, I want it cause it's novel and there's no redstone, and I like putting bespoke prestige projects on my server... you might have noticed I tend to do form over function on a lot of my farms... so this is about form, the function is just a bonus

Second example, I wanted to see if there was any way to make Terra Invicta load faster, "just don't save scum"... you idiot, one that's just stupid advice, people can play games however they want, but two this once again doesn't answer the question

Like yeah, how dare people want to know if there's a way to make a game load saves faster when loading takes like 1 minute

If they at least phrased stuff like "sorry, I don't know how to do that, he's an alternative you might try", it's not helpful but it's at least polite

But man... I just get tired of people not answering the question being asked and instead answering the one they've decided was asked

(Actually, a legit real problem in the real world such as... with doctors who don't listen to their patient and decide they know what's really being asked. Don't do it, answer the asked question, or at least ask questions to confirm what's being asked before going off pig headed)

[sweetnans]

Katsuki had a sixth sense when you were mad. It was like a struck on his head that evolved in being the biggest clown of all. He actually enjoyed riling you up so when you have your back turned to him with your shoulder stiff, He knows he has a job to do.

"Bad day at work, Princess?" He says using your given nickname when you aren't in the mood.

"Shut up, Katsuki," you say, cutting the onions with precision

Ok, ground control done. You called him Katsuki so you are mad but not extremely mad.

"Oh baby, what did I do?" His sultry voice coming from behind, his hands starting to press onto your lower back.

"You know exactly what you did, now back the hell off. I have a knife in my hand, " you warn.

Katsuki smirks carefully, making sure that you don't see him. If you see him enjoying himself at your expenses, he's done for good.

"Are you mad?" He asks the obvious. His hands going up from your hips to your ribcage right under your breasts, his breath fanning above your neck and cleverage.

"I'm not mad, I'm pissed at you," you murmur, chopping the garlic and the bell peppers.

"Mm baby," he grunts in your ear, spreading kisses at your neck and behind your ear.

"Oh no, uh-uh." You wiggle your body from his grip. "Don't baby me"

You turn around to look at your boyfriend without leaving the knife in the counter table. He raises his hands in defense, quirking his brow at you.

The way your body looks tiny beside him is amusing. You can't stay mad at him for much longer, so you need to focus on the problem and not in his enormous and gorgeous body.

"Drop the knife sweets, you ain't hurting nobody, I'll do anything to make those lines in your face dissappear." he flicks his finger in your forehead and then leaves it there to dissipate your expression lines.

You know he's messing with you right now because he knows he did something wrong, and Katsuki learned a while ago that the solutions when he's the one who's guilty aren't spatting and bickering back at you. The solution is using his charm and handsy manners with you.

"Use your words, baby." The finger that was in your forehead traced a path down to your lips and to your neck, right above your neckline in between the beginning of your boobs.

You sigh because it's better than moaning. He's so annoying.

"Fucking fine" you mutter. "If you're going to drop your gauntlets in the entryway, leave them on the side, I almost fall today because I stumbled on them"

He can't help but cackle at the mental picture of that.

"Hey! It's not funny, you asshole. " You smack his big arm while he dodges you easily to engulf you and embrace you inside his big arms.

"Jeez, so squirmy," he says, keeping you still while he kisses the top of your head. "No more heavy gear on the entryway ma'am," he mumbles against your hair.

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[lymtw]

Toji can never shut up about you when his friends get him drunk. It's the one topic that never fails to be discussed when his friends manage to drag him away from your warm security for a night. Once the amount of alcohol he drank starts to hit and his overly chatty side is lured out, he spends the entire time talking about you, and the others just kind of listen to his ramblings and remain utterly shocked by how smitten he is. He talks so much about you, like he's trying to make up for the time he isn't spending with you.

It's always, "Shh... listen, shut the fuck up. Listen, listen, she smells so fucking good. Like she's fresh out the shower all the time" and "God... she purrs like a little kitten when I take her to bed" and "She's out of my league, but i'm not gonna fuck up the chance she gave me".

If it weren't for Shiu taking his phone, he would constantly be trying to reach you. Sometimes you're the one who calls when it gets late, just to see how things are going, and Shiu's always the one who picks up before he hands you over to Toji.

"Hey, Shiu! How is everything?"

"It's going pretty well, aside from Toji being a drunk mess." He scouts the area in search of your boyfriend and spots him next to another friend. Toji's all starry-eyed as he talks the poor man's ear off about you. "Wanna talk to him? He's been talking about you nonstop and it's starting to make the other guys jealous."

You giggle. "Sure. Let me talk to my idiot."

You can hear the commotion as well as the faint sound of Shiu alerting Toji of you being on the other end of the line.

"Heyyy, baby. You miss me? You need me?" You can hear the smile on his face. He's pacing back and forth as he waits for your voice to come back on the line.

The sound of Toji's voice makes your heart beat a little faster. It sounds like he made good use of his night out.

"You know I do, baby. Be safe, alright? Have Shiu send you home in a cab when you're ready to go and text me when you get home."

"I love you, ma. I fucking love you. I don't wanna be here anymore." He sighs, heavily. "Can I just go home, already? I've been trapped here for like five days now."

"I love you, Toji, and it hasn't been five days. More like five hours, but yeah, you can head home if you're done. Put Shiu back on the phone."

"No." He simply says, as he continues to pace around the crowded bar. "I miss you so much. I don't wanna see anyone else, anymore."

"Okay, baby. Tell Shiu you're ready to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

"I love you," he says once more before putting the phone down, leaving you to do the hanging up.

–

"Shiu, i'm leaving. I'm ready to go, man. She said okay and I... Well, I wanna go see her."

"You're not going over there like this," Shiu responds. "She's not gonna be able to handle you alone, right now. I'll call you a cab and you're going straight home."

He was so wrong about that last part. Toji got in the cab, and Shiu told the driver his address. He wouldn't ever find out about how Toji ended up redirecting the cab to your place.

"Psst, hey. I'll give you another ten bucks if you turn around and go to this address."

Without hesitation, the man accepted the money and dropped Toji off at your apartment. He slowly made his way to your front door, ringing the doorbell and knocking right after to make sure you hear him.

You put down the dish rag you were using to dry dishes and headed to the door. You looked through the peephole and as soon as you see Toji standing on your doorstep, you gasp. Your brows furrow in confusion as you continue to stare at him for couple more seconds, just to make sure it's actually him and not some random, sketchy man.

"Babyyy... Open. Your boyfriend is here." He knocks again, his fist like a mallet on your door.

"Toji, shh. Stop," you say, voice low. You quickly pull him into your apartment, dismissing his laugh as you shut and lock the door when you both make it in.

"Oh, baby." He smiles as you approach him again. "Baby, baby." He pulls you into an overly tight embrace and sways you side to side, effortlessly. You smell a mixture of alcohol and cologne on his shirt. "My pretty girl. Fuck, I missed you and your body." He buries his face into the crook of your neck and allows his hands to settle on your lower back. You hear him take a whiff of your scent before carrying on with his rambling. "I didn't even wanna be there..." he mumbles. "...but they stole me away and I-" He hums in confusion when he realizes you aren't reciprocating the hug and pulls your arms around him before putting his hands on your lower back again. "I'm just gonna say no next time. Those drinks were disgusting."

Normally, you reciprocating his affection wouldn't be an issue, but you're still stuck on how he's there, standing a couple feet from your kitchen and not at his place. You can hear his quiet, labored breaths beside your ear. His looming frame and the tightness of his arms around you bring a lot more reality to the situation.

"Let's get you ready for bed, okay?" You say to the giant who threatens to tip you over. You gently tug at his arms for him to release you and create some distance.

You take his hand and guide him to the bathroom first, where both of you do your nightly routines of brushing your teeth and washing your faces. He made a mess with the water when it came to washing the cleanser off his face, but you paid no mind to it as you grabbed a towel and dried it up.

You walked out of the bathroom and Toji was hot on your trail, toothbrush still in his mouth as he followed you into the kitchen. "I'm just grabbing some water. It'll just take a quick second." You smile as he continues to sluggishly brush his teeth. He pauses to respond.

"Why do you wanna leave me so bad? You didn't tell me you were leaving the bathroom. You were just gonna go and leave me alone in there?" he says, slightly muffled by the toothpaste that fills his mouth.

You laugh when some of the foam falls to the floor.

"Okay, okay. Let's go back to the bathroom together, then."

"You can't leave me on the couch," he says, out of nowhere, more suds falling onto the floor. You push him a little so that by the time he reaches the bathroom, at least some toothpaste remains in his mouth.

He dips his head and spits out the foam into the sink, rinsing his mouth after. You have to go back and tidy things up, like the cloud he didn't make sure was washed away before stepping away from the sink, and the bubbly spume that spilled out of his mouth in the kitchen and the hallway.

He's following you again, like a lost puppy because you didn't comment on what he said about not wanting to stay on the couch. He's quiet because you're quiet. You're not saying anything because you're focused on wiping up the cleaning spray and toothpaste mixture on the floor with a paper towel, and he's leaning against the wall, silently watching, feeling like you're mad at him.

You stand up straight and make your way to the trashcan before washing your hands. "Let's go, Toji," you say. He's looking at you like a scolded dog, reaching his hand out for you to hold. In his mind, if you take it, you can't be too mad at him. His chest feels so much lighter when your soft palm meets his. The heaviness is replaced with a racing heart as you take him to the room with you. You're not leading him to the couch like he thought you were going to.

"You're letting me sleep next to you?" He asks, watching as you put up a couple more pillows for him to use.

"Since when do you sleep on the couch? You know I need you here with me whenever you sleep over." You turn around and pinch his cheek, stepping behind him to creak the door shut.

"Yeah? You like when I stay in your bed?" His voice goes low with the question. His hands go to your waist and he's walking you backwards towards your bed. "Well I like staying in your bed too, mama." He lays you down, your head cradled by his hand before he slides it out of the way for your pillow to take its place. He grins as he takes up all the space between your legs, his hands taking their position on your waist again. He takes your lips in his, the minty flavor of his mouth seeping into your taste buds. It's a short lived moment, because the second his hands try to tug your shorts down, you put a stop to everything, your own hands pulling your shorts back up.

"Mm..." you hum, releasing his lips with a quiet smack. "N-No, Toji. Not like this."

"No?" He repeats, a small crease of confusion between his brows as he pulls his hands away from your hips. "Okay," he complies, quickly diverting the situation by resting his whole body down on you. His chin rests on your chest and he just looks up at you with the most loving expression. You have to try not to laugh when you notice he isn't blinking.

You gently scratch the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. "What?" You ask, a soft smile following the question.

"I don't know," he says, sighing with that same adoring gaze still fixated on you. "I can't explain the way I see you." Not having the sufficiently accurate words to describe how you are depicted in his eyes is a strange, void-like feeling for someone who could talk about you for days on end.

You just hum at the declaration. His mind isn't exactly operating at one hundred percent, so you won't judge him for his inability to think of ways to describe you.

He lowers his gaze and buries his face in your warm chest. You can feel him kissing you through the thin material of your tank top. "Love you," he mumbles. "You mad at me?" He asks, not pausing his kisses as he waits for your answer.

"No, baby. There's nothing to be mad about." You smooth down his hair when you're done playing with it and rest your hands on his shoulders.

"Just wanted to see you." His warm breath filters through your shirt. "Shiu told me no, but I didn't care. I just had to see you, and now... i'm here." He inhales and lets out the breath slowly. "And I don't wanna go home." As if he's scared he'll be denied of you again, his arms go under your back, and he effectively molds his body into yours.

"You could've let me know over the phone rather than giving me a heart attack. You know you're always welcome here, my love." You rub soothing circles into his back with one hand, and the other goes to the back of his head again.

"Surprise," he says, lacking so much enthusiasm that it even makes him chuckle. He pushes his face further into your chest and lets out a sigh that reveals his tiredness. "Mm... you're gonna put me to sleep if you keep doing that."

You laugh, slowing your movements until your hands are just flat in their positions.

"No, ma," he groans, frustrated by the lack of your soothing touch on him. "Do it again, please. Feels good." He turns his head so that the side of his face rests on your chest.

It's impossible to deny him, especially when he asked so nicely. You like being able to help him relax this way. Never mind the lack of feeling in your legs from his weight and the minimal movement you've been allowed. You just can't seem to find it in yourself to whine about your position when the sound of him rhythmically breathing through his nose takes over the silence of the room. You tilt your head slightly to get a look at his face and as you suspected, he's out. His eyes are shut and he's motionless, save for the slight rise and fall of his shoulders and back as he breathes.

A kiss to the top of his head was your show of making peace with having him as your weighted blanket and human teddy bear for the night.

Shiu said you wouldn't be able to handle a drunk Toji all alone, yet there you have him, piled on and drooling on you like he's getting the best sleep.