#This is what I spend a movie length of time on?!
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As much as I love the medium, I mean heck I'm writing page long Utena metas, sometimes the most hyped titles remind me why I'm also not this deeply involved. So apparently Oshi no Ko is good but a movie length set up where the protagonist's background and motivation is so mindbogglingly wild and unbelievable, clashing so hard with a story trying to be cutthroat honest about the entertainment industry. And no one in the movie length set-up acted like their age, or like any kind of realistic human being for that matter... Also made the mistake to google who Ai's baby father is and um... this character just sounds so stupid and over the top I can't believe that this story thinks it's going to tell me anything resembling a human experience.
EDIT: What even bugs me more about the set up is Ai getting murdered for the protagonist to be motivated to become an actor. Like... he could've had thousands of personal reasons to become an actor. If I would need to drink the reincarnation-coolaid, first reason being not wanting to go through the hell that is medical studies again. Or maybe he always wanted to work in show-biz but alas was born at the deepest country side. Also absolute anime mother bingo for her getting fridged for protag motivation, she dies in devotion to be a mother, and dies gracefully, and is emotionally articulate.
No but for real why does this show want me want to believe that it wants to talk about some dark "realities" of show-biz when no one of the characters behaves like any sort of a human being?! Gosh, sometimes I hate this industry and the no cricicism allowed fandom financing it.
(I mean some folks find a liking in characters from Kimetsu no Yaiba but sometimes hyped titles really are beyond my comprehension.)
#Lewis ranting#the severe tone clash just...#I guess the story could've worked with Aqua's levelheadedness and a guardian raising the kids to stay objective.#My point is the set-up wouldn't have needed to be this stupid for the story to work.#But the twin's father was the straw that broke the Camel's back for me.#And Kana is what 3 to 4 years old and she already understands acting?!#This is what I spend a movie length of time on?!#Probably going to read some Asano work or watch Monster to cleanse my palette
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·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻
roommate!geto who you are weary to move in with at first, but as soon as you meet him you feel perfectly comfortable- like you’ve known each other for decades~
roommate!geto who insists on calling you “baby” and “doll” all the time
roommate!geto who you cuddle up with in your shared living room every thursday night to watch movies~
he’s already sitting on the couch with open arms when you come out to the shared space, “what’re we watching today baby?”
roommate!geto who has to excuse himself for a minute (or two) when he sees you walk out of you room in sleep shorts that expose the curve of your ass and a tank top with no bra.
roommate!geto who gets hard whenever a sex scene comes on, he knows you can feel his length pressing against your back, but the fact he knows you can feel it turns him on more~
roommate!geto who always sneaks touches. <3
nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck while you “platonically” cuddle during the movie. taking in the scent of your freshly lotioned skin~
grabbing your waist to guide you when you’re at parties, shielding you from any boys that might be around,
pressing his hips against yours whenever he stands behind you,
tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear mid conversation.
roommate!geto who drives you everywhere- he doesn’t mind because he loves spending time with you <3
roommate!geto who you give little fashion shows before you go out clubbing with your friends. “you look beautiful doll”
roommate!geto who despite loving your outfit can’t stop thinking about how some guy might hit on you at the club
roommate!geto who cannot shut up about you to satoru~
roommate!geto who starts taking up skirt pictures of you to show satoru what has him going crazy-
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻
a/n: ok i finally got the courage to get this out of my drafts. pls lmk if it’s actual shit 😭
also i didn’t proofread or anything so there might be mistakes- sorry again!
#ari-sa#geto smut#geto suguru#geto suguru smut#suguru geto smut#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto suguru headcanons#jjk imagines#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk suguru#jjk geto#getou suguru x reader#suggestive#suguru geto#roomie!geto
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18+ slight smut (unprotected piv), sex tapes, mentions of anal, jealous!reader, weirdo behavior
⋆ ★ thinking about how dad!rafe constantly gets hit on by slutty moms and how you have to come in and set them straight : (
Rafe loved his baby girl, but he would bash his fist into the wall if he had to listen to Somewhere Over the Rainbow get played as he watched his little girl prance around in her ballet class one more time.
Don't get him wrong, Rafe loved spending the daddy-daughter time with his little girl, and it was something (even more) persuasive about your daughter wearing an adorable pink tutu that made him agree to get ice cream after Every. Single. Class.
It was the other parents (and The Best of Oz) who made it so insufferable—not just the other parents—the moms.
The dads were particularly cool. They typically sat there like Rafe, hunched over into a man's spread, aggressively typing on their phones.
But the moms--no--the fucking moms always wanted to talk, but not just talk, flirt!
The moms were like cougars, always purposely sitting down next to Rafe, peering over his shoulder, debating whether they should talk to him.
When they finally do muster enough courage to talk to him (the ones that do), they typically say some dumb shit, like:
"My heart always goes out to single fathers; it does. I’m single, too. We should grab a drink sometime.”
It was only Cynthia Fucking Allen that asked Rafe dumb shit like this.
It was dumb because she knew that Rafe wasn't a single father and knew well that you two were happily married.
The other moms were never as Bold as Cynthia. They typically just tried to talk with Rafe to talk to someone as attractive as he was—which Rafe didn't mind.
Cynthia was a cougar because she didn't fear rejection. She'd never turn down an opportunity to make a pass at Rafe--whether it was inviting him over to dinner or trying to set up "supervised playdates” (which Rafe had always turned her down) or going as far as complimenting his derrière in his khakis.
And though Cynthia's constant badgering was becoming a nuisance to Rafe, Rafe never needed to cut into Cynthia because deep down, Rafe had felt bad for the woman.
Rafe had once heard from you, who heard from one of the other mothers that Mr. Allen, Cynthia's husband, had filed for a divorce. So maybe she was just trying to get her groove back or something, Rafe thought.
Shockingly, you were the one to snap and cut into Cynthia for her nuisance behavior, finally.
It was a stupid and risky idea, and you don't know what had come over you, honestly. It was something the Queen Bee would do in a raunchy teen movie.
You had sent Cynthia a video of Rafe full-on fucking you.
And I mean, you went all out. A tripod was set up and everything.
It was an 11-minute length video of Rafe fucking you in two positions.
For five minutes straight, Rafe took you from behind--your plush ass dangling off the edge of the bed as Rafe pounded into your sopping loud cunt, standing up, with his thumb occasionally pressing into your asshole.
With each thrust from Rafe's hips was met with your ass, causing the skin-on-skin slapping to fill the room.
And then for another five minutes, he fucked you in missionary--with your legs pressed to his sides, Rafe sucking and biting your neck and cursing in your ear about how this is "Your dick."
You had made sure to include a minute of Rafe jacking off and cumming on the folds of your pussy and onto your clit. Then, you told Rafe to hurry up and grab the phone and record him fucking his cum deep inside of you because you were the only one indeed that owned Rafe's cock, and seemingly Cynthia needed to be reminded of that.
When you sent the video to Cynthia, you set it on vanishing mode and made sure it was to be deleted as soon as she finished watching it, so if she ever mentioned it, it was her word against yours.
You never told Rafe about sending Cynthia your sex tape, and Cynthia never brought it up, but you knew she had gotten the message since she never bothered Rafe again afterwards.
#crookedteethed#fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#fem reader#rafe cameron#drew starkey#rafe cameron x reader#the obx#dad!rafe cameron x reader#dad!rafe#dilf rafe cameron x reader#dad!rafe x mom! reader#Rafe cameron x jealous! reader#Jealous!reader#smut#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey fanfiction#drew Starkey smut#dad!rafe smut
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Couldn't Keep Them to Myself if I Tried
ao3/masterlist
Summary: You invite Sylus over for a simple movie night -- but he has other ideas of the definition of "casual."
CW(18+): Alcohol usage, Vaginal Fingering, Hand Jobs, Porn Without Plot, Not Beta Read, fem reader (afab), female terms are used towards the reader, reader is mc but it's not pertinent, alt title: you and Sylus have a normal one. 4.6K
This night had been your idea, and you were already beginning to regret it before Sylus had even arrived on your doorstep. Rather than go to an upscale restaurant like Sylus had initially suggested, you had instead invited him over to your apartment for a movie night – whatever that meant. It wasn’t that you had anything against the concept of restaurant dates, (could you call them dates?) but rather that you wanted something more relaxed on occasion. The frequency of your attendance to restaurants that did not have prices on the menu was becoming alarming. Sylus was wholly unbothered by this. Any time spent with Sylus was a good time, though, to be fair. You were surprised when he agreed so readily to your comparatively low-brow idea of spending time together. You checked your phone at the thought.
Sylus:
Be there soon. Got what you wanted on the way
10:07PM
You didn’t bother to respond, knowing he was likely coming on his bike, anyway. Just looking at the text made your heart rate increase and your stomach flip in on itself. You took a loud, steadying breath, and examined yourself in the full length mirror in your bedroom. You had originally tried not to agonize too deeply about what to wear for the occasion (it was your house, after all), but had failed in that regard. After much deliberation (and sending a million example photos to Tara for feedback) you had settled on what you thought was the best compromise between cute and comfortable. It wasn’t as if Sylus had never seen you in your house clothes before, but this occasion was intentional – and you wanted your look to reflect that.
Thus, you had decided on an off the shoulder sweater – it was an ivory color, with an oversized cable knit that kept the cold of the night air at bay. A gift from Sylus, as it were. He had given it to you rather nonchalantly, but you felt anything but nonchalant after cross checking the price online. You tugged at it, and your collar bone poked out from the side that fell from your shoulder. Under this you had a pair of cotton sleep shorts, which were appropriately adorned with images of small teddy bears. Fabric content was important for health and comfort, after all. Though you had hated to admit it, you had agonized over your panties for the longest – not that you expected anything to happen tonight. Your relationship with Sylus definitely recently escalated on the physical level, but you had yet to actually go all the way with him. To that end, you had settled for something that was comfortable, but appropriate if things did go that direction. A simple ivory pair with navy blue stripes, with a cotton lace trim. They matched the sweater. A happy coincidence.
Your phone dinged with the sound of a message notification, reminding you of its forgotten presence in your hand as you were scrutinizing yourself. You unlocked it, swiping down on Sylus’s text.
Sylus:
Here
10:16PM
Your stomach again attempted to cave in on itself, and made a valiant attempt to crawl out of your throat. You couldn’t pinpoint at what point exactly seeing Sylus had made your body have such a reaction, but it had only worsened recently. You were nervous. You quickly made your way from the bedroom to your front door. After you had chastised Sylus for one too many breaking-and-entering fiascos, he had changed tactics to simply texting you when he arrived (as opposed to knocking like a normal person). You adjusted your sweater and hair before opening the door, taking one of many deep breaths that night.
On the other side of the door he stood, illuminated from behind by the porch light. It made the white of his hair glow softly in a small halo. His casual dress reflected yours – which came as a surprise to you, even though you should have expected as much. It was just a movie night. He had opted for a tight fitting black tee which left nothing to your imagination, and a pair of gray sweatpants. Because of course he had. You didn’t let this thought go any further in your mind, lest it run away with it. He was holding a grocery bag, the contents of which you were certain to contain the shitty alcohol you had requested. You looked up at him. Why was he so fucking tall?
Sylus was looking back down at you. He was kindly ignoring how you had been ogling his clothing choices, but did look amused. You felt like you would never get used to the intense carmine red of his eyes. He had a knowing glint there, like usual. You felt that he saw right through you.
“May I come in? I’ve brought the goods.” He held up the bag as evidence to support his statement. You opened the door for him, stepping aside so that he could enter.
“What are you, a vampire who needs permission to enter?” You rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face. Sylus was in your apartment. At night. And you were going to relax. Together. At night, alone. He clacked his teeth together at you in response playfully.
Shit.
Sylus had taken your words as an invitation to entry (if you hadn’t seen him eat and drink so many times, you would have wondered if he really was a vampire), and had busied himself unpacking the bag onto your coffee table neatly. You were still standing by the open door, and you closed it, locking up hurriedly. You approached him, standing behind the coach and leaning on it, eyeballing what Sylus had brought for you to share.
“Low quality soju, per request.”
He had arranged three flavors on the table – original, peach, and plum. Two identical silver cups sat ready and waiting next to the bottles. You nodded your approval, keeping your expression stately.
“It tastes like juice. Don’t knock it till you try it.” You responded, wagging a finger at him. You knew he probably would have preferred an expensive wine (which he had offered to bring from his personal collection), but you had rejected this motion in favor of forcing him to do something under the umbrella of what you considered to be normalcy. Not that he seemed particularly upset by it, minus a few grumblings about your tastes.
Sylus chuckled at your words, shaking his head. He was smiling.
“I haven’t knocked it. Yet.”
You felt yourself flush at his words. You were certain he hadn’t meant it to be any kind of innuendo, but you felt a twinge between your thighs, anyway. You cursed yourself mentally. Sylus gestured to the couch.
“Sit.”
The command of a man who was used to getting his way from other people. In your own home, no less. You were hoping the relative darkness of the room would hide the redness of your face. With no reason to argue, you made your way to the other side of the couch. Sylus sat down before you had a chance to, on the far right of the furniture. He motioned to the space next to him. You filled it with your body, unsure of how close in proximity he wanted you to be. Or how close you wanted to be. You settled for a respectful two inches or so of space, and drew your bare legs up next to you. Sylus had his legs spread open, as he usually did. Despite his casual attire, you thought his striking beauty looked out of place in your simple apartment. His knee tapped your thigh gently. Your eyes snapped to his face, breaking you from your thoughts on his looks.
“Did you have a movie in mind? I’ll pour our ‘juice.’”
He reached for the cups and alcohol as he said so. You tried not to openly admire his bare arms, and promptly failed. The muscles in his forearms rippled under his skin as he reached for the cups. How often was he working out?
You scrabbled quickly for the remote, taking it from the coffee table and turning on the TV. You did, in fact, have something in mind. You had decided on something that wasn’t too serious, and would allow for conversation – if it happened. You figured that you wouldn’t be at one-hundred percent focus after a few cups, anyway. You quickly opened the movie on your streaming service.
“One-thousand and One Vampire Knights?” Came Sylus’s quizzical voice from beside you. It nearly made you jump in your focus to find the film. You turned to him as you hit play on the movie. He handed you a cool silver glass, full of the clear liquid. His fingers were so large that it was nearly a struggle to neatly take the cup from him. You kept making contact with the sides of his index finger and thumb with your own. He was incredibly warm, despite the coolness of the cup. You managed to take it, after a short struggle.
“Don’t complain,” You poked his bicep with your fingertip as you spoke.
“You agreed to this. You can handle a corny vampire flick, right?” Sylus flexed his bicep – just the tiniest amount – under your touch. He drank the contents of his cup swiftly. You watched the bob of his Adam's apple – the flexion of his tendons in his neck as he did so.
His lips were a touch wet as he spoke.
“Not complaining. There isn’t much I wouldn’t handle in the name of monopolizing your time.”
You needed to drink after that comment. You immediately downed the contents of your own glass.
Yeah. Like juice.
Sylus had poured you the peach flavor. You licked the residual off wetness from your lips. You felt more than saw Sylus’s gaze on you. Even in the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the movie, his eyes were piercing. They reflected what little light there was like a predator illuminated in the night. He was already refilling your glasses. You were certain you had yet to turn your attention to the film at all, yet. You turned from him hurriedly. Sylus, who had his arm that was free from soju duty on the back of the touch, took the opportunity to wrap it gently around your shoulders. He pressed you to his side, moving your whole weight easily with just one arm. The movement made your drink nearly spill, and you quickly drank it before it could go anywhere besides the inside of your mouth.
Sylus always had a way of making you feel small, especially like this. Pressed against his side, you were curled up like a cat against his thigh and chest. Your heart was beating so loudly that you weren’t certain he couldn’t hear it as well. His warmth seeped into the bare skin of your legs and shoulder. You hadn’t realized how cold you had felt until you had felt his body against yours. You could smell his aftershave. It was something sort of sweet but spiced at the same time. You couldn’t quite place it.
He tilted his head to the side, eyes still focused on the movie, but his voice was close to your ear.
“You looked cold with all that bare skin.” He was whispering, as if not to interrupt the characters on screen. You still hadn’t actually paid any attention to the film. He took your cup from you, and set both his and yours back on the table. With his other hand now free, he pulled your knees and thighs into his lap. He rubbed his hand over your bare calves repeatedly, and squeezed the tops of your cold feet. His hand was so warm. You had been so focused on acting normal that you really hadn’t taken notice of how cold you were. Your feet felt like ice, even with Sylus’s proximity. You had an inkling this wouldn’t last for long, though, because his relatively innocent ministrations were making your body have a reaction. Even just touching your legs and feet was enough to rile you up. He just had that effect on you.
You bit your lip and tried to actually watch the movie. You really did – but it was near impossible with Sylus’s hands running up and down your legs, rubbing your calves and feet idly. His eyes rarely seemed to stray from the screen, but his grip kept you pressed firmly against him.
Someone on screen was being sucked dry by an innumerable number of vampires. You hardly registered this, as you were thinking about what would happen if you were to sit squarely in Sylus’s lap and tell him clearly what you wanted from him. You did not act on these thoughts. Instead, you reached for the alcohol and glasses from the table. Sylus let you leave his grip for a moment — though he seemed reluctant to do so. He had a hand on the inside of your knee, making sure you didn’t fall as you leaned from the couch to pour the drinks. Something about it felt even more intimate than his earlier touches. When was the last time anyone else had touched the back of your knee ? Maybe never.
You poured the drinks, shoving one into Sylus’s hand. You needed less of a clear head for this situation.
“Drink.” You commanded.
Sylus bowed his head at you, going along with your desires.
“Yes, ma’am.” You heard rather than saw the smile in his voice as his lips pressed against the glass. You mirrored him, and quickly poured more. You both drank again. This repeated itself two more times before Sylus halted your pouring with his index finger on the lip of the bottle.
“What’s the rush, baby? We have all the time in the world.”
This always happened with Sylus. Even though you were certain he had a ridiculously high tolerance, he switched into even more intimate pet names for you when you drank together. You flexed your ankles, stretching, nervous energy having nowhere else to go. You could feel the dilation of your veins even in your fingertips.
“No rush. I just like this stuff.” A half-truth. It was good. Bad for your health, but good for lowering your inhibitions and anxiety levels around him.
You set the drinks back down reluctantly. You hesitated for a moment about what position you should return to in relation to Sylus – but he answered your unspoken question for you. Your knees were drawn up over his lap, resting against his abdomen, your feet on the couch on the other side of him. Your torso was still pressed into the grip of his arm. It was almost like he had you in a princess-style carry, but while seated.
You could feel the easy rise and fall of his chest, the movement enough to move your knees up and down. His fingers were grazing along the backs of your thighs now. The movement was so gentle, it almost seemed absent minded. Just when you thought they were straying close to where you wanted him, they were going the other direction. You were definitely wet, now. You put a hand on his chest, and scrunched up his shirt there. An attempt to ground yourself, lest your soul leave your body because of the situation. He seemed to take this as encouragement. His voice tickled your ear, breath warm against it.
“You’re so soft here.” He cupped the back of your thigh, petting it. His voice sounded almost like he was making a comment on the nature of a piece of art, rather than the current state of your skin. You suppressed a small shudder. You willed him with your mind to just stick his fingers inside you already. He was nearly cupping your ass, anyway.
“And you’re very warm. And you smell good.” You said instead. The alcohol had you feeling a lot more honest, suddenly, and a touch more relaxed. Sylus’s hand paused for a moment, before it resumed its movements. He peered at you, blinking. A smile graced over his features. It made your heart twist up in knots. You hoped you were the only one who saw this side of him.
“I’m happy to warm you up any time you’d like.” He turned his gaze back to the movie, but his fingers were dragging over the space of your inner thighs now, just above your sex. Never actually touching it, save for the briefest ghosting of knuckles. You could feel the rate of your breath quicken. If he moved down the slightest bit, he would be touching you there. You tried with all your willpower to focus on the movie. You hadn’t a clue what was happening. A great many people dined at a banquet on screen.
Sylus’s fingers finally found their way under your shorts. He pressed in between your cunt through your panties with his index and middle fingers. Just brushing there, up and down through the fabric barrier. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you – you weren’t entirely sure that he was actually going to do anything of the sort. You were already so wet that you knew he could feel it through the fabric. Even with just the gentle touch, there was a slick sound. His other arm kept you pressed tightly to him, still.
He hadn’t even taken his eyes off of the movie.
You glared at him, half-heartedly. It was hard to be mad when he was giving you exactly what you wanted from him – no matter how much you disliked admitting it. While you were attempting to burn a hole in his face with your gaze, he had pressed your panties to the side, and was stroking you lightly with two fingers, just the same as before. You squeezed your thighs together involuntarily. As if in response, he began slowly pressing a finger inside of you – slowly . Despite how easy it would have been to slip right in with how wet you were – he took it knuckle by knuckle, curling it inside of you as it bottomed out. You put a hand over your mouth to stifle any sounds that threatened to escape. You felt that if you alerted him to your pleasure, he might stop altogether. He put another finger inside you, much more roughly this time. You keened into his touch.
His gaze did meet yours now – finally leaving the screen. He was watching you intently, looking down at you. You felt yourself relaxing into his domination of the situation – cradled in his arms, fingers inside you. His thumb found your clit, circling it there. You hadn’t had much time to get off recently, so you were feeling extra sensitive – especially under his touch. He seemed to sense this, and doubled his efforts, fingers curling inside you as he did so. You spoke from behind your hand.
“Sylus,” you breathed. “ ‘m gonna cum quick.”
“Don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear you.” His voice was a low command. As he spoke, his thumb worked harder at your clit. The fingers inside you alternated – one pressing in, the other pressing out. He was trying to stretch you. You took your hand from your mouth. Your moans echoed in the small space.
“Sylus –” You choked out.
He had put a third finger in. The pleasure was already too much – your head felt hazy and hot from the attention and the alcohol. Your orgasm found you suddenly, white hot and mind-emptying. Your body arched into his touch. He worked you through it, fingers still stretching you out. You twitched under him, much too sensitive for him to continue. You pulled your bottom half away from his lap, which removed his fingers from you unceremoniously. There was a lewd sound as you did so. Instead, you flipped yourself around so that your head was nearly in his lap, laying on your stomach. You supported your weight with your forearms.
Because of the nature of your previous position, you hadn’t been able to feel his arousal at all – but you could see it squarely in front of your face now. It was straining against his sweats, the outline overwhelmingly visible, a wet spot just at the tip. He was looking down at you, and carded a hand through your hair. The cool air hit the parts of your scalp that were free from the weight of your hair under his touch. You tugged at his waistband impatiently, which elicited a rumbling laugh from him.
“Do you see how hard you get me? Look.”
He helped you pull his waistband down, freeing his length. It bounced out against his abdomen, visibly leaking precum from the tip. It left a mark on his expensive black shirt. The sight had you newly wet.
You did look. Technically, you had seen it before – but not in real life. Only over text. Per your request, of course. Somehow, it managed to look significantly larger in person. A thick vein pulsed on the underside. He was sporting girth and length. You swallowed thickly. He twitched under your gaze, clearly enjoying being admired from this angle.
You gripped it, experimentally. It was hot and hard under your touch. Your fingertips could hardly wrap around – they didn’t even touch each other on the other side.
Fuck.
You gave him a few experimental strokes. You heard him exhale in response through his teeth. You sat up, crossing your legs underneath you while facing him on the couch in order to give your hands better leverage to touch him. You spat on them before continuing. Sylus’s eyes were hot on your skin. Your palm, slick with saliva, rolled over the head of his cock. He groaned lowly in his throat. Even in the low light, you could see the flush gracing the skin of his face. The combination of the sight and the ingestion of alcohol had you feeling like you wanted to tease him – just a little. You paused your movements.
“Show me how you do it yourself. So I can do it how you like it.” The confidence in your own voice surprised even you. A little knowing smile came over Sylus’s features, and his hand replaced yours for a moment, the movement gentle in its own right. You put your hands in your lap, feeling a little empty with the loss of him.
“Watch closely, then.”
You watched him intently as he stroked himself leisurely under your observance. His confidence even while jerking off in front of you only reminded you why you liked him so much. His breath had increased, and you could see the quickening rise and fall of his taut abdomen and chest. He licked his lips as he focused on his own pleasure. You resisted the urge to kiss him, as you were busy studying other things. He started with a tug at the base that turned into a clockwise movement of his hand around the shaft, curling around himself to get in contact with more surface area. He was still wet with your spit.
“You’re looking so intently. Do you like watching me like this?”
Even while he was getting off in front of you at your command, he was teasing you. You huffed, shooing his hands away again. He set them aside with a quickness that he didn’t bother masking. It was clear, even with his earlier words, that he wanted your touch in place of his own. You replaced your hands around his cock, attempting to replicate the motions he had done on himself. His hips bucked up involuntarily into your hand. You wet him with more spit.
“I like watching. But I’d prefer to do it myself. Is this…good?” You peered into his eyes for a response. Despite the confidence in your words, the concern that you wouldn’t be able to finish him off with just your hands was there. His pupils were blown wide. He nodded his assent, eager.
“You’re making me feel so good, sweetheart. You make me feel – ah – good.” His words were momentarily interrupted by you palming the head of his cock while he spoke. His hips kept stuttering into your hands. He was leaking so much now that you no longer needed spit to lubricate him. You doubled your efforts, and felt him get impossibly harder in your grip. You couldn’t believe you had him falling apart in your hands like this.
“I’m gonna cum, baby. Where..” He had to start again, breathing heavily through his nose.
“Fuck – where should I cum?”
Maybe it was the alcohol, but you weren’t entirely sure why he was even asking. You squeezed him harder.
“Cum in my hands.” You replied simply. You could tell he was right on the edge.
Something about your words must have done it for him, because he did, without much warning other than reaching his hands around yours as you stroked him. He squeezed his around yours, and came in thick ropes over your fingers. You stroked him through it until he chuckled in a stuttering sort of way that sounded overstimulated – but he didn’t complain. He laid his head on the back of the couch, chest heaving. Your hands were covered in his cum. There was a lot. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were struggling with the fact that you had just given Sylus a casual handjob on your couch. You saw him looking at you in your periphery for only a moment before you suddenly felt his lips crash into yours. It was rough – one of his rough palms pressed the back of your head to him, and your teeth clicked together at his insistence. Your hands were still covered in him, having nowhere to go. The kiss made you feel hot all over again after just having had a moment to cool down, and you ignored the urge to stroke Sylus back to life and ride him on your couch.
You had to brace him with your forearm. He was looking into your face, wondering why you had pushed him off.
“I need to clean up.” You showed him your cum covered hands. He followed your gaze, as if he had forgotten. His eyes widened. He had the good grace to look a bit sheepish.
“Shit. Sorry, love. Let me help.”
At some point during his insistent kissing, he must have put himself back into his pants, because he stood, and scooped you up from the couch. He could have thrown you if he wanted. You yelped involuntarily, but he was already on his way to your bathroom. Your hands still had nowhere to go – you couldn’t even hang on to him. Still, you knew he wouldn't let you fall. He set you gingerly to your feet on the bathroom floor, and turned on the faucet for you, guiding your hands to the stream. He pumped soap on them. He was leaning against your back, practically eclipsing your form while you washed. You could smell the arousal still coming off of him. His hands moved over yours in the sink – helping you clean yourself. The movement felt so absurdly intimate that it almost made you laugh nervously. He turned off the faucet for you, and you dried your hands on the hand towel beside the sink. Before you could even get a word in, he had you back in his arms, and was returning the two of you to the couch. Instead of returning you to your seat, however, he kept you in his lap.
“I think we may have missed the movie,” He said, deadpan. You smacked his bicep lightly.
“And whose fault is that?”
���Mine.” He grinned, looking very pleased with himself. You couldn’t have gotten away from his grip, even if you had wanted to. You settled for laying your head on his shoulder. He put his nose in your hair, and inhaled deeply. You had never felt a peace quite like the one in this moment.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x mc#lads x reader#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#lnds sylus#lads smut#don't mind me populating my blog with these#sylus smut
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"girl who is going to be okay" back with the hard hour!
i know you tend to write more dominant and sexier y/ns (which i think are chef's kiss, esp the doms) but when it comes to jaemin for some reason i always imagine him with a less experienced y/n.
he wants to be oh so sweet to you, taking his time by slowly dragging his cock through your warm walls, his head nuzzled in your neck, but you just won't stop squeezing around him out of nervousness. idk why but the image of a man trying his hardest to restrain himself from going the pace that he wants, having to come to a still multiple times while all the way inside you to just take a breather and calm down, is just so hot?
jaemin x afab!reader
wc: 6.4k
warnings: pwop LOL, established relationship, inexperienced reader, desperate jaemin, dry humping, fingering, praise, oral, protected sex, soft dom!jaemin, sub!reader
a/n: don't ask me what happened... i lost the fight against jaemin brainrot...
-
jaemin has been trying to control himself recently.
he’s always been more cautious with you knowing that you still get shy around him. he asks if he can kiss you, softly placing his lips on yours. his hands never grip too tight around your waist, and they never wander down too far. unless it’s you who’s initiating the touching, he’ll keep his hands to himself to stop the need to hold you tight against him.
even if he wants to.
it’s been an ongoing struggle recently. he doesn’t know why, but he’s been filled with the need to have your warm walls around his length. on the late nights where you’re not there with him, he’s left alone to fuck his fist, imagining it’s you wrapped around him. he’d be so good to you, taking care of your every need.
he knows that he’s supposed to take it slow with you. you opened up to him saying that you were more inexperienced and that you were open to trying things with him. you just wanted to take it slow, you weren’t in a rush. he obviously respected your opinion, but he can’t help the thoughts that flooded his mind.
all he could manage was a soft smile and a press of his lips onto yours. he couldn’t wait to have you how you wanted.
-
jaemin wants you to come onto him. he doesn’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for yet.
it’s one night where you’re both watching a movie. you’re cuddled up into his side, trying hard to pay attention to the movie playing in front of you. you’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but you can’t stop thinking about jaemin. he’s not doing anything, his hand is smoothing over your side as he watches the movie.
you keep thinking of your words from the other day. you were the one who suggested going slow, but as you’re sitting next to him now, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to hold up your words. you don’t know how to bring it up. you’re not even sure what exactly it is that you want.
you can feel heat building up in your body, your cheeks growing hot the more time you spend at jaemin’s side. you bury your head into his shoulder, and jaemin coos at the sight of you. you almost feel guilty for feeling so… like this while he has no idea. you can feel frustration build up inside you, tears threatening to prick at your eyes as you want something you’re not even used to.
you accidentally let out a soft whine, immediately slapping a hand around your mouth. you pull away from jaemin, your shocked eyes looking into his. he looks more worried than anything, his eyes scanning all across your face as he asks, “are you alright, angel? is anything wrong?”
he watches as you shake your head no. for a moment, he’s worried for you, his hands moving to hold yours as he checks over you. he’s quick to realize how your thighs are squeezing together. it’s easy for him to pick up what’s wrong with you. there’s a small smile on his face when he puts one of his hands on your cheek, “you feel hot. you need to tell me what’s wrong so i can help you.”
judging by how he’s looking at you, you can tell he probably already knows what’s wrong. you let out a shaky breath, unable to come up with any words. his thumb rubs softly into the skin of your cheek as you nuzzle into his touch. you take a deep breath before you speak, “i… i need your help, jaemin.”
he tilts his head, “with what?”
“w-want you to… touch me.” before he can do anything, you reach for his hand, placing it softly onto your thigh. he stares at it, squeezing lightly as he feels around. he’s touched you before, but there’s a difference between now and the quick, soft touches that he usually lays onto you. you’re asking him to touch you in a voice he’s never heard from you before.
he calls out your name, getting your attention as he stares into your eyes. you slowly move toward him, softly placing your lips onto his. that’s all he needs, your confirmation as he molds his lips against you. his hands hold your face, keeping you still as your hands stay on the couch. one eventually makes it to his thigh, lightly touching it like he touched you earlier.
he lets you pull away from the kiss to take a breath. he finds himself slightly out of breath, too caught up with the feeling of your lips. he wants to feel you closer to him, despite you sitting right by him. he clears his throat, “can i try something?”
you whisper out a yes. he tells you to stand up as you watch him get more comfortable on the couch, spreading his legs apart. he looks up at you, patting his thighs, “come and sit down.”
the initial nervousness comes back as you feel more heat bloom in your face. your hands squeeze into fists as you debate on what you should do. it doesn’t last long, though. there’s a need for you to be close to him, to have him hold you as you kiss him. you want to feel the heat of his body against you as he kisses you.
you move slowly as you settle yourself on top of his thighs. it’s not uncomfortable, but you’re nervous to have him this close to you. he’s smiling at you, his hands sliding up on your thighs, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. he bats his eyelashes at you, “do you still want to kiss?”
nodding, you learn forward to press your lips onto his. you’re mindful of how you’re sitting on him, not wanting to put all your weight down on him. he’s quick to run his hands down your sides, getting you to fully sit down on him.
he hums against you, gripping down onto your waist. he has you so close, and he can feel how warm you are against him. his tongue darts out, licking at your bottom lip. you open up slightly, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. it’s different from the soft kisses he gives you, and you welcome it as you move your tongue against his.
a soft whine escapes you, and before jaemin can try to get you to make that sound again, you instinctively roll your hips down onto his thigh. jaemin lets out an internal groan, swearing that he could feel you clench on top of him. all he’s done is kiss you and you’re already worked up. you move to get closer to him, your chest against his as he presses a hand to your back.
you roll your hips down, small noises escaping your mouth as you chase any type of friction you can get. your hands make it onto his shoulders for support as you mindlessly grind against him.
jaemin can feel himself getting hard from the way you’re moving on top of him and from the way you’re whimpering in his mouth. he grabs your hips, shifting you right on top of his clothed cock. you don’t seem to notice at first, but when his cock twitches against your thigh, you pull away from him, staring down.
jaemin starts, “when you move like that on top of me…”
“it feels good for you, too?”
he nods, smoothing his hand over your back, “i think i could cum just like this. whatever you do, angel, i like.”
you gasp at his words, feeling his hands snake around to your back, moving you forward against him. he lets out a swear at the feeling, moving his hands to your waist as you grind down. there’s a newfound desperation in your movements knowing that jaemin feels just as good as you feel, that you’re making him feel this way.
you’re on top of him, rolling down your hips in a way that seems too out of character for you. the shy, reserved self that you show to him is gone, replaced with the need to get yourself off with him. you’re using him, pants of his name fan across the skin on his neck as his hands wander a little further down.
he’s no better than you. he’s letting out low grunts as his hips roll up to meet yours. his hands finally make it to your ass, giving it a light squeeze as he lets out a curse. there’s been too many times he’s had to stop himself from doing this, his hands moving a little rougher against you. he helps you roll your hips down onto him, grinding you down onto his tip.
he could easily flip you over, could pull down your shorts and panties and rut against your leaking pussy. but he can’t, choosing to be content with how he has you now. he grits his teeth, pushing away the thoughts as he hears you let out a whimper of his name. he asks with a low voice, “angel, do you feel like you might cum?”
you don’t answer right away, your whines and whimpers filling the air as you try to process what he said. you can feel him twitching under you, rolling his hips up against yours. your head falls to his shoulder, “jaemin, i need… i need to cum!”
his hands grip your hips, setting a pace for you as he grinds you harder against him. it doesn’t take long for you to cum, not when he’s holding you and letting out groans of your name. seeing you so desperate to cum pushes him over the edge, cum staining his boxers as he ruts his hips up.
there’s a comfortable silence between the two of you, heavy breaths filling the air as you collect yourselves. his arms wrap around your back, pulling you into a hug. you smile against his shoulder, your arms trying their best to wrap around his slumped figure on the couch.
it doesn’t take you long to start whining, “i’m hot and sticky all at the same time, jaemin. i think we might need to move.”
he murmurs against you, “let me hold you a little longer, angel. i liked this so much.”
“i did, too,” you press a kiss to his skin, “and as much as i did, i need to shower.”
a laugh fills the space between the two of you, “of course.” he pulls away from you, watching as you stand up on wobbly legs. to your embarrassment, he moves to walk you to the restroom, ignoring your complaints.
-
jaemin thought that maybe just that once, you would act out on your instincts.
he noticed that you let him be a bit more touchier. he didn’t want to push anything, but he let his hands linger on you a lot longer than they used to. you didn’t even shy away when he would, you’d let his hands stay where they want to be. you’re the same, you kiss him more openly; you try teasing him a bit more, too.
he likes seeing you be more open with him, likes seeing you feel more confident in your love. he’ll do anything you want him to if it means he can make you feel more comfortable.
it’s another day that he’s at his apartment with you. you’ve had more time to come over, more time to spend with your boyfriend. he doesn’t expect anything because he has to remind himself: you want to take it slow. he doesn’t mind, he loves spending time with you regardless.
he doesn’t really expect you to come to him that day while he moves you both to his bedroom, a shy look as you approach him, “jaemin…”
he smiles at you, “hey, angel. what is it?’
“can we… can we do what we did the other day again?’
“what do you mean? what did we do exactly?”
you’re not dumb to not notice his sly smirk, a cat-like grin growing on his face. he knows exactly what you mean, but he’s trying to get you to say it. your face heats up, murmuring out words that you can’t even understand.
he moves to sit on the corner of the bed, his head tilting at your mumbled words. he reaches his arms out towards you, “you’re gonna have to tell me what it is that you want, baby. can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”
without much thinking, you move to sit down on jaemin’s thighs. he didn’t expect you to move like that on your own, shown by how his breath hitches in his throat. his hands don’t hesitate to move to your waist, bringing you closer to him before they drop to your thighs. his thumbs move to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, causing you to shiver on top of him.
he chuckles at the sight of you, likes how your shorts have ridden up, giving him all access to your thighs. he pushes you right on top of his bulge, and slowly grinds you down on top of him, “i had my baby waiting for too long, hm? i should’ve known you needed me, right?”
you’re already feeling dizzy from his words, trying to grind down on him already, trying to chase the feeling from before. his hands stop you, though, keeping you in place. he bites back a groan when he feels you squirm on top of him, “won’t you tell me how much you needed me?”
your voice comes out breathy, “i- couldn’t stop thinking about you. i tried touching myself, but… it just didn’t feel right without you.”
jaemin’s grip on you gets tighter, his eyes shutting at the thought. imagining you stuffing your hands in your shorts, trying to make yourself feel just as good as he made you feel. he lurches forward, caging you in a heated kiss. he can feel you try to keep up with him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you do.
he can feel how desperate you are, no restraint shown in how you moan into his mouth. you’re more unrestrained, and he loves it, loves how he’s made you like this. he’s just as needy as you are, probably even more than you are. he’s the first one to start moving, his hips grinding up into yours. he’s practically using you like a toy, groaning in your ear at the feeling.
his grip loosens, allowing you to move with him. you drag your clit along his hardening cock, clenching around nothing as jaemin peppers kisses along your shoulder. it feels just as good as last time, but you can't help but feel like you’re missing something. you want him, you need him to help you make you feel good. “jaemin, i-” you whimper, “i w-want more, please.”
he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding up to you, focusing on your words, “what do you want me to do?”
you grab one of his hands, looking at his fingers before placing it back at your inner thigh, “i-i want you to touch me. like how i tried touching myself.”
jaemin’s head tilts back, eyes shutting at your words. you can feel him twitch under you, his hands balling at his sides. he takes a breath before refocusing on you, “can you stand up for me?”
you do, moving off of him, immediately whining when you’re not close to him. he shushes you lightly when he rests against the headboard of his bed, his legs spread, eyes filled with need as he looks at you. “come here, angel. i’ll make you feel good.”
you crawl over to him, and as you’re about to face him, he turns you around so that your back is towards him. he pulls you against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder as he coos at you, “can you take off your shorts for me, baby?”
you’re a bit shy, but do so nonetheless. you struggle, too eager for him to continue. he watches you, eyes zeroing in on the expanse of skin being exposed to him. this is the most he’s ever seen of you, and you’re not even fully undressed. without thinking, he says, “you’re so pretty, angel. so pretty, just for me, hm?”
you’re quick to agree, your back pressing against his chest. you can feel his cock twitch under you, and it makes you more eager. his fingers leave featherlight touches along your thighs, inching close to where you need him most. he hums in your ear, “needed me to feel good, couldn’t touch yourself without my help. you’ll let me help you, right?”
you let out a whine at his words, squirming on top of his lap to get him to continue. he lets out a low chuckle, “my eager baby, i’ll make you feel good. just be patient.”
his fingers trace circles on your inner thighs, enjoying the small noises you let out at his teasing. you don’t try to rush him anymore, trying your best to stay still on his lap. you’re biting down on your lip when his fingers rest on the edge of your panties. he’s sitting there, so close to your heat while pressing kisses to your neck, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.
“jaemin, please touch me. i wanna know how it feels.”
he traces his fingers along your clothed slit. he immediately lets out a shaky breath when he does, realizing just how wet you are from the little touches he’s offered you. you’re like this because of him, and he knows you’ve never felt like this for anyone else. he’ll make sure you’ll never want anyone to do this to you.
“you’re dripping, angel,” his fingers press against your clit, “is it all for me?”
you gasp, hips twitch at the feeling, “y-yes! all for you, please keep going.”
he can’t say no when you ask so nicely, your sweet voice taking over all of his thoughts. his middle finger makes slow circles on your clit, enjoying the way whimpers easily begin slipping out of you. you hold onto his arm for support, your hips trying to rut up in his touch, unknowingly trying to gain more stimulation.
his other hand that’s not touching you pries your leg open, keeping it from trying to shut around his hand. you’re so sensitive, responding to the light touches with high pitched moans, whimpers of his name rolling off of your tongue. he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding into your ass, biting the inside of his cheek when he can feel himself twitching.
he knows you need more when your nails begin to dig into the skin of his arms. his arm has a hard time trying to keep your legs open for him, caught up in all the sensitivity of his touches. you break when he speeds up the circles on your clit, “j-jaemin, hold on! i might- i might cum!”
“isn’t that what my angel wants?”
you feel embarrassed asking, but if you don’t tell him, he’ll never know, “can we… i wanna feel your fingers on me- or in me.”
jaemin’s head tilts back onto the headboard, all of his restraint lost at your words. “i’ll help you, wanna show you just how good you can feel. is that okay with you?”
“yes… please, jaemin.”
his fingers move to pull your panties to the side, exposing your dripping pussy to him. he bites down on his lip again to contain the moan that threatens to slip out. he can look over and see how wet you are for him, how you’re on display for him. “my angel has the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” he lets out a breath at the whimper that comes from you, “so needy just for my fingers.”
you let out a whine, your hips bucking into the air as you try to search for any friction. he finally gives in, two fingers moving to circle at your clit. you melt immediately, head lolling onto his shoulder, loud whimpers filling the air. he mumbles in your ear, “wanna get you all wet for me before i try fingering you, okay?”
“please keep going.”
he presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, fingers speeding up on your clit. he can feel you begin twitching on top of him, legs threatening to close on his hand. you try to keep yourself spread open for him. jaemin’s other hand slowly trails up your body, reaching under your shirt to one of your boobs. he groans when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, fingers meeting a hard nipple.
with jaemin’s fingers on your clit and tugging on your nipple, it doesn’t take long for you to begin dripping all over the sheets. your moans have raised in pitch, calling out to him, begging him for more. “you’re ready for my fingers, angel? wanna feel them inside you?”
a moan of his name slips out of you, pleading for him. he plants a kiss on your shoulder, licking at the spot right after, “of course, baby. gonna take it slow for you.”
his hand slides down, his middle finger making it to your entrance. he shushes you when you start squirming, his finger slowly sliding inside you. it feels different, but good. your legs shut around his hand, and he lets it happen as he watches in awe. you’re so tight, he thinks. he wonders how he’s gonna fit himself inside of your tight pussy.
the thought makes him twitch in his pants, bringing himself back to the task at hand. your legs slowly open back up, your hips rolling in time with the movements of his finger. he didn’t expect to see the sight of you like this this fast. you let out a moan, “wan’ another finger, jaemin.”
“angel’s ready for another?” his ring finger moves to your entrance, slowly entering inside along with his middle finger. he can feel you tightly clench around his fingers, letting out a cry when his palm rubs against your clit. it’s too much, the sensation bringing you quickly to the edge. it’s only intensified when jaemin curls his fingers inside you, finding a spot inside you the sends shocks along your spine.
“feel good, baby?”
you can barely hear him, thighs beginning to shake as he presses he continues presses his fingers against your sweet spot. you’re falling apart quickly, his fingers plunging deep inside you as his other hand moves back to your boob, groping at the flesh. you let out a sob, “gonna cum, jaemin. wanna cum so bad!”
“yeah, gonna cum all over my fingers? go ahead and cum, pretty.”
your head falls back onto his shoulders, a wail leaving you as you cum, clenching on his fingers. his watches you intensely, watches how you’re left a mess because of him. he gives up on keeping your legs open, liking just how much you show how good he’s making you feel.
he leaves kisses along your neck, his hand thumbing over your nipple and his palm slowly rubbing into your clit. you ride out your orgasm, letting out a squeak when the stimulation feels a little too much. he removes his hands from you, choosing to wrap them around you as he whispers in your ear, “did so good for me, angel. loved watching you fall apart because of me.”
while you’re coming down from your high, jaemin subtly brings his fingers that are wet with your slick to his mouth. he almost wants to moan around his fingers, realizing that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. he likes the taste of you on his tongue so much, realizing he might just have to do more than finger you next time.
your breaths begin to even out, your mind becoming clear from the haze you were in. you can feel jaemin nuzzle into your neck, but more importantly, you can feel his dick press into your backside. he’s still hard, and you realize he hasn’t cum yet.
jaemin watches as you slowly turn your body to face him, sliding down to your knees. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, your dazed eyes following his every move. your head moves to rest on his knee, looking up at him with a pretty smile on your face, “are you gonna teach me how to make you feel good?”
he follows your hand that trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his bulge. his angel wants to make him feel good. his hand cups your cheek, thumb sliding across your skin, “gonna be good for me, baby?”
-
over the course of a few weeks, jaemin has been seeing a change in you.
you’re more touchy now, easing into his side as you cuddle on the couch. you don’t shy away when he touches you either, choosing to go along with his antics. you tease him, a playful smile on your face when you let yourself sit on his lap.
now, you try to initiate more intimate acts with him. you’re still a little nervous, jaemin helping you along the way as you lay back onto his bed, fingers moving inside you. you always return the favor, jaemin liking the way you look with his cock in your mouth way too much. he’s also had the time to eat you out, easily folding when you ask him to use his mouth one day.
which is how he finds himself today, harshly sucking on your clit while his fingers plunge into your dripping cunt. your whimpers and moans fill the air, almost covering up the lewd sounds of jaemin eating you out. every time he does this, he acts like a man starved, licking at your entrance just to get a taste of your slick.
one of his hands makes it to your boob, kneading at the flesh just to get you to moan out for him, just to feel you clench harder around his fingers. you whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, his tongue moving to lap at your hole. what’s different is that his tongue slips in, pressing into your hole.
your hips jut into his face, his nose rubbing against your clit. it feels so new, and it sets off a desire in you. your mind is now needing to be filled up with something more, something that jaemin can easily provide to you.
one of your hands wraps around the one on your boob, moving to interlock his fingers with yours. you can feel him smile against you, speeding up his movements. you call out to him weakly, getting his attention as he hesitantly moves away from your pussy. you try to ignore how his mouth and chin are wet, his low voice asking, “what is it, baby?”
you try to put yourself together, your voice coming out shaky when his other thumb rubs against your clit, “i-i’m ready.”
“ready to cum? i’ll make sure you do.”
before he can plunge back to your cunt, you call him once more, “not for that! well, to cum, but… i think i’m ready to have sex with you.”
at lightning speed, he sits up, eyes bulging out of his head, “really? are- are you sure? it’s not too soon?”
“no,” you smile, “i-i mean, i trust you. i trust you to, um, take care of me.”
he watches as shyness takes over you, avoiding eye contact as you talk. there’s a soft smile on your face, your words being genuine. “you should’ve told me so i could’ve made today more special,” he nags, “i could’ve had a whole day with you, angel.”
you let out an airy laugh, “any time i get to spend with you is special, jaemin.”
he huffs, “if you say you’re ready, then you’re ready. if at any point in time you want me to stop, i’ll stop. we can do anything you want, just say the word.”
“want this, jaemin. want you.”
he lets out an affirming okay, quickly sliding off of the bed in order to take his sweats off, choosing to leave his boxers on for now. he quickly rejoins you, “i’m gonna finger you some more, alright, baby? wanna make sure that you’ll be nice and ready for me.”
you nod, choosing to sit up a little more as you watch two of his fingers slide into you. you’re still so wet, his fingers easily plunging inside you. he scissors his fingers inside you, stretching you out for him. his thumb hooks around to your clit, rubbing in tight circles that has your head lolling back.
“doesn’t take long for you to get ready for me, hm? my baby just needs my help, right?’ his words shoot straight to your core, pushing you close to cumming. he can feel you clench tightly, adding a third finger as he continues.
you tell him that you’re close, whining that you want to cum with him instead. he smiles at you, cooing, “want you to cum now, then i’ll know that you’re ready to take my cock.”
you immediately let go, cumming all over his fingers. he knows what sets you off now, how to get you to cum quickly with just a few motions. he grins at the sight of you, “so good for me, my baby is so good for me.”
you swat him away when he tries continuing, a small laugh leaving him as you do. his hand smoothing over your thigh calms you, bringing you back to look up at him with a certain look. he bites down on his lip when you speak, “i think i’m ready- think i’m ready for you, jaemin.”
“yeah?” jaemin tries not to sound nervous himself, “my baby needs me already?”
you nod, covering your face in embarrassment at his words. it’s even more embarrassing when you ask, “you have c-condoms, right?”
he reaches over to his nightstand, fishing one out from the bottom of his drawer. since he started dating you, he hasn’t found the need to buy anymore. he thanks his past self for leaving just a few behind, he would’ve died if he had to say no to you now. a bright smile shines on his face when he shows it to you, laughing at you when you look at it weirdly.
“wanna watch me put it on?”
you laugh at his words, thanking him internally for trying to lighten the mood.
as jaemin slides the condom on, he realizes he wants this just as bad as you do. he notices how his chest is heaving with every breath he takes, and he’s not even inside you yet. his eyes glance up towards yours, looking back at him, pleading for him to just do something. “i’m gonna start moving. angel, need you to tell me if i need to slow down or stop moving.”
you nod sweetly at him, hand moving to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “i love you, jaemin. you can start.”
your sweet words and action has his skin burning up, his cheeks turning red as he lines himself up at your entrance. he can feel how warm you are, his tip sliding over your slit a few times, working the both of you up. his body hovers over yours, moving to press kisses on your neck when he slides in.
your nails dig into his shoulders when he presses in. he lets out a grunt, “s-so tight, need you to relax, baby. can’t move if you’re not relaxed.”
“s-sorry! i just- you’re so big.”
he groans at your words, his head falling to your shoulder again. he slips out of you, giving you a second to relax before you give him the go ahead again. he slowly slips his tip in, wincing when he feels you clamp down on him. he bites down on his lip to stop any embarrassing sounds from coming out, hand soothing your side as he pushes more of his length in.
it’s a weird feeling for you, it doesn’t exactly hurt, but he is stretching you open. nothing this big has been inside you, so used to his fingers. you let out broken whines, asking him to stop at certain points. your nails lightly scratch down his back,
his hips finally are flush against yours, his cock buried deep inside you. you can feel him twitch, slightly shaking on top of you. he’s trying to calm you down, soft words being whispered into your ear, followed by soft kisses. his thumb snakes between your bodies, tracing light circles on your clit.
if only you knew how much he was struggling not to buck his hips into your cunt. you’re so tight, so warm, clenching down on his cock. your walls are getting used to the intrusion, soft pants fanning across his face. you call out his name, his hips accidentally pushing closer to you as you clench around him. he quickly apologies, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling.
“i-” you let out a breath, “i want you to s-start moving. s-slowly, please.”
“of course, angel. like i said, tell me if i need to stop, if i need to slow down, or anything, okay?”
you nod quickly, jaemin leaning back up, his eyes staring down at where you two are connected. you spare a look, getting embarrassed at the sight. he starts slowly moving, pulling slowly out of you before pushing back in. you can feel every inch of him, your warm walls inviting him in. it’s so easy for you to just let him take over, the feeling slowly bleeding into pleasure as he gets a rhythm.
while you’re getting used to the feeling, jaemin seems to be losing himself in you. every time he moves his hips, he can feel how wet you are. it’s like you try to suck him back in when he tries pulling out, like you need him to keep on fucking you. your arms are wrapped around his shoulder, bringing him closer to you. he’s surrounded by all of you, your scent, your cunt, the pretty sounds you’re making.
when you start moaning his name, he has to stop, head falling to your shoulder as he tries to keep his composure. he knows he can’t just yet, but he wants to fuck into your cunt, wants to have you fucked stupid just because of his cock. the thought makes him twitch inside you, the feeling of his orgasm already bubbling up in his abdomen.
he lets out a shaky exhale before he starts moving again, a little faster than before. “how’re you feeling, baby? tell me how it f-feels for you.”
“feels so good, jaemin! your cock feels so good inside me!”
you clench down on him, your hips rolling up into his. you’re moving in time with his thrusts, your nails raking down his back, leaving trails of red marks for later. he doesn’t care though, not when you’re wrapped tightly around him, not when he gets to hear you moan his name. all he can think about is you, and how badly he wants to flip you over and really fuck you.
“so tight, you keep clenching so tight around me, wanna make this pussy mine. tell me it’s mine, angel.”
“please! ‘s all yours, i’m all yours!”
he lets out a growl, he’s quickening his pace, hands gripping onto the sheets near your head. he needs to kiss you or else he might think about how bad you need him, how he’s been the one to show you all this. you kiss him back, whining into his mouth as your chest arches into his. he can feel your hard nipples against his chest, letting out a low fuck.
he can feel himself getting close, his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit. he can start feeling you clench around him, your voice rising in volume as you start babbling out to him. he prays that your close, too. he doesn’t think he can last much longer, not with the way you’re wrapping around him.
“gonna cum, angel? you wanna cum, gonna cum with me?”
he sounds so needy, just as fucked out as you are. you can barely register his words, but you know you need to cum just as bad as he does. he picks up his pace, his hands gripping onto your hips as he pounds into you. his low moans join your whines and whimpers, jumbled praises leaving his mouth as he gets closer, “s-so good for me, angel. pussy made just for me, only for me. no one else will ever have you like this.”
you nod, tears pricking your eyes as you come undone, cumming all over his cock. he’s quick to follow, unable to stop himself from cumming when you clench down on his cock. he’s groaning in your ear, quickly moving to messily kiss you. he licks into your mouth, moaning when you start milking his cock.
he slows down, quickly sliding out of you. he sits back on his knees, eyes staring at your spent pussy. he’s broken from his trance when you let out an embarrassed whine of his name. he chuckles when you shut your legs, sliding the condom off before tossing it in the trash.
you’re so tired, all of your energy being used up. jaemin rejoins you in bed, hand smoothing over your thigh, admiring the glow emanating off of you, almost wishing he could take a picture. maybe for another time, he thinks, he’ll bring it up later.
it’s quiet, enjoying the presence of your boyfriend as his light touches move all over. before you can fall asleep, his voice calls out to you, “angel, we gotta get you cleaned up.”
you whine, “but ‘m too tired, you did this to me.”
he laughs, hand moving to hold yours, “i know, i know. let me make it up to you, let me take care of my baby, hm?”
you sigh contentedly, “in five minutes.”
he can’t ever argue with you, easily giving up when he lays right by your side, “five minutes, baby.”
#asks#🥤 anon#nct smut#nct dream smut#jaemin smut#jaemin x reader#jaemin scenarios#jaemin fic#nct fic#nct imagines#nct dream imagines
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I finally watched breaking bad (all within the past week or so while I worked, finished it and watched el camino last night) and I'm confident this isn't a new thought I'm expressing or anything but genuinely how DID an entire generation of dudes convince themselves Walter White was cool and admirable and intended to be sympathetic. I know ppl just lack media literacy sometimes but I'm still so confused
I don't think I've EVER watched a piece of media that so blatantly depicts a guy making the worst possible decisions at every turn and having his life ruined for it and not being redeemed or made sympathetic in any significant or lasting way. the kinds of justifications villains USUALLY give that make people consider them "morally grey" or "tragic" or whatever (everything I did was for my loved ones, I did what I had to to survive, once I was in this I couldn't get out, I just needed you to trust me so I could keep you safe, etc etc) is ALWAYS framed as complete self-serving bullshit when Walt says it, and one of the only shreds of personal growth he ever exhibits in the whole series is when he finally fucking admits that. every time he does something even remotely cool or drops a quotable one-liner, something terrible immediately happens that makes everything worse and makes him look like an unreasonable idiot asshole again. by the end of the series the ONLY characters they can still contrast as being morally "worse" than him are literally a bunch of bloodthirsty neonazis who kept a guy in a cage for several months. this show is practically SCREAMING at you the entire time not to admire Walt. why did every dude I knew in highschool have his face on tshirts and Facebook pfps.
I just don't get it. at least with The Dark Knight's Joker it was like, a feature-length movie and that's it. you spend a lot less time with the Joker and it has a lot less time to delve into his motivations, so there's way more room for flanderization and misinterpretation as people extrapolate the few cool/interesting/sad things they saw into a whole nuanced misunderstood guy in their heads and online. Walter White has 5 seasons' worth of 45min episodes to convince you beyond a shadow of a doubt that he is a miserable fucking loser who ruins everything he touches because of greed and selfishness. if you weren't watching it for that, what WERE you getting out of this. what DID you think this show was about. am I just missing some key piece of context from 2012 or whatever that would help me understand this
#buny text#breaking bad#also I'm vaguely aware there was a big movement of fans who blamed everything on his wife and said she was the worst#which like. obvious misogyny from the primary audience of teen boys and young men aside#she's not really worse than any of the other adult characters?? she sucks real bad in the first couple seasons but so does everyone else#half the point of having all these characters be so shitty and rigid and unwilling to grow or accommodate others is so that#they can serve as landmarks to show how rapidly walt is abandoning his morals and spiraling into self-justification as the series goes on#the people you hate in season 1 are largely people you sympathize with in season 4 and 5 because compared to walt they're saints#idk. it's just weird having grown up around the fan culture for this show for the past decade or so and then finally watching it#and just being completely baffled now that i know what they were responding to
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Newjeans Hanni smut (M reader) - the title is a hint to the TW.
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It didn't happen through a cliché.
Well, maybe it did, but not one of those where she's stuck head-first into some kitchen appliance or something of that ilk, though you would say this really did happen by accident.
What? She tripped, fell, landed on your dick?
Not quite like that, but the point still stands. You didn't begin that day, or even that evening, intending to fuck your step-sister, but, well…
"My apartment. My TV. My choice," you told her, as you have so many times before.
"But this film is supposed to be the best. It's got great reviews. Dani loved it..." Hanni was talking far too fast to even really pay attention. She soon started reeling off a cast list and everyone involved, and how this review called it a revelation to the genre, but you had long since started ignoring her. You know how she gets. Excitable beyond the point that someone normally would be. It's an endearing trait, if not also annoying. The rundown of her reasons was cut short as she threw her body at you in attack.
"Hanni! What are you—"
"Just gimme the controller already!" She shouted right into your ear as she threw her arms over your shoulders. You held it out in front of you, keeping her behind your back so her arms couldn't reach; not that it stopped her from trying. "Just one time. Please? Pretty pretty please?"
You climbed up from the sofa. Hanni clung to your back like a young panda, with her legs locked tight around your waist and her arms still fumbling around. You grabbed her by the ankle, trying to pry it away so you could drop her, or something, anything other than letting her continue. "Alright fine. Just let go, you idiot. You’re going to tear my arm off."
She loosened her hold, just enough for you to swing her around; one arm and leg slipping free so you could throw her onto the couch. In your flailing she managed to take the TV remote with her, but the moment of peace, of silence, of satisfaction in hearing your idiot sister bounce against the cushions before breaking into a laugh and asking, "what the hell was that for?"
"What did I ever do to deserve the step-sister from hell?" You said as you flopped down at the opposite end of the couch.
"Have a mother hot enough that my dad wanted to fu—"
"You're sick." You cut her off before she finished. She smirked, lifting her sock-clad feet onto the sofa and settling in for movie night. She brought her knees up below her chin and started flicking through the options on the screen to find the one she wanted. Her eyes were wide in her stare, her lower lip bitten. It was pretty much the last time you ever looked at her in this innocent way again.
It was another one of those shitty horror flicks. The kind that didn't even slightly live up to the billing she gave it before. This, however, was Hanni's thing—whenever she convinced you, or otherwise, to finally give up control of your TV, she would put on one of these cheap horror movies and spend the whole night tucked behind a cushion.
As much as you tried for it not to be, it's become something of a ritual, pretty much any night that she was at home, and not unbelievably tired from being overworked and didn't have to be up at the break of dawn.
It's your acceptance of things like that which really showed how much the two of you had grown. You remember fighting for your life against your mother and stepfather to not have to take her in. Convinced that if she wanted to move into the city so badly, she could get her own place, or go to one of those company dorms. Ultimately, you were made to see reason. Your apartment is close to her company, and you had a spare room, after all.
Not that she ever stopped annoying you beyond belief.
The movie, if you could call it that, had you fall into a slumber, and when you woke up Hanni had crawled across the length of the couch and was laid against you, her arms wrapping one of your own. She didn't even realise you had woken up, staring as the credits rolled with a slight, peaceful smile on her face.
She had tied her hair up by now into a ponytail, pulling the hair away from her mostly bare shoulder, where the thin strap of her cropped pyjama top rested. As you peeked down at her, your eyes accidentally fell on the space down her top. It wasn't your fault; they were just right there.
"Shit..." you muttered, catching Hanni's attention.
"Still alive there?" She chuckled a little as she gently patted her palm against your cheek. You feigned a yawn and shut your eyes, settling your head against the pillow once more.
"Hanni, put something else on. This movie is dumb."
"You fell asleep after like ten minutes."
"Yeah, and it seems it didn't take long for you to use me as a body pillow."
Hanni pursed her lips. A red flush ran through her cheeks, and then she quickly sat up. You were watching her the whole time through half-open eyes, chuckling under your breath at her reaction.
"You're an idiot," she says. "Always have been."
You shrugged in reply, "And you're easy to tease, always will be."
"Asshole." She kicked at you.
She tried to kick again, and you caught her foot. You held her bare leg in the air and then lightly kicked her back, hitting her thigh.
"Let go! I'll kick you again. Asshole!" She shouted at you, again and again, struggling to break her foot free from your hand. When you finally let her go, all her struggles made her stumble off the couch. As she went, you kicked out again, this time catching her right on the ass. "Ah! Fuck be careful you hit my plu—" She brought her hands right to her mouth when she realised what she was saying.
"Your what?" You asked.
Hanni cleared her throat, blushing to the point of matching the colour of her red short shorts. "Nothing."
She turned away from you. Just standing there. There's a part of you that wishes that you could go back to this moment. You would have left it there and gone to bed—never kicking her a third time.
But you did it.
Your foot flicked gently against her ass a final time and you felt it. Something hard tucked between the softness of her cheeks. She yelped again. You pinpoint this moment as the catalyst for everything that followed. It’s the part where her innocent image crumbled before your eyes and that’s what allowed you to do what you did. Though really, can you ever be sure that if it didn’t happen now, it wouldn’t have just happened the next day, or next week, or a few months down the line? You tell yourself it was inevitable.
"Is that what I think it is?"
She spun around, facing you once more, trying to muster something. She stumbled over and stuttered her words. "No! I... it's not mine. Minji loaned me one for... just to try... it's not." She held the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "This is... oh, god. This is so embarrassing."
Hanni slumped back onto the sofa and pressed a cushion tight against her face. "Why'd you loan it?" You ask her, only to see her tighten her grip.
"Because."
"Because what?" You sat up by her side and said something that at the time you thought would make it better, but looking back, probably came off rather creepy. "I clean your room, Hanni. I have seen worse things."
Hanni slowly dropped the cushion into her lap and looked at you with a glare. "The fuck?"
"And if you're going to use my laptop, try deleting the history." At this point, you were just piling on the embarrassment.
"Fuck! Oh my God, what did you see?" She threw the cushion into your face.
You picked it out of the air. "Nothing." You lied.
"Bullshit!" Hanni swore. "Did you see everything?"
"Nothing at all..." you said sarcastically while standing up. "I definitely didn't see all the step-brother porn you were binging last week."
She screamed and jumped up. You threw the pillow to stop her and stepped out of reach. "I hate you! You freak!" she shouted, cheeks burning red as the fury rose within her.
"Says the chick wearing a buttplug." You taunted her again as you darted across the room away from her.
"What happened to boundaries!?" She lunged at you again, and you quickly sidestepped her.
She tried jumping at you once more and missed, only to strike her knee against the corner of the coffee table. She hopped back on one leg with the pain.
"You're an asshole, you know that!?" she shouted, holding onto her knee. You stepped closer, thinking she was really hurt. Until she used the chance to lunge at you and grab you. "What's wrong with a girl enjoying some fantasy? Not like I want to actually fuck you."
You realise now that the proper thing to do would have been to match her disgust. Tell her something along the lines of how the thought repulses you. Continued to tease her about how fucked it is that she would even look at that sort of stuff. The whole thing could have dissolved, but it's when she had hold of you, hammering her fist into your arm, that you said, "don't you?"
Then the long silence ensued. The one that said a hundred unspoken words. As her punches turned into light taps and then to her just holding onto your upper arm. She looked up at you with her pretty eyes open wide. Her lips parted slightly and the tip of her tongue rested on the bottom one as if she had something to say, but the words wouldn't come.
That's the first time you kissed her. Your own step-sister, a girl who should be off-limits in every conceivable way. Yet she opened her mouth and accepted you in that moment. The taste was so sickly sweet.
It was brief, but it told you everything you needed to know, and everything seemed to spiral from there.
First, there was the confusion. The immediate aftermath where you both let go of each other to turn away. Your backs turned on one another as the awkwardness reached its peak. Neither of you was willing to confess the enjoyment of that little exchange.
Then came the passing of the blame. First, it was Hanni who turned to you with a "What the fuck are you doing?"
And you replied with "Me!? You're the one who kissed me!"
She scoffed and shouted a response, "That was all you! Stop being such a perv, freak!" Hanni stomped past you towards her room, face half-full of anger and topped off with shame.
"I'm the perv? You're the one who I hear moan through the walls while, apparently, watching step-brother porn! I think that makes you the messed up one!” you called after her.
A pause. The hesitation. The possibility of confession. She reached her door, and it flew open. In she walked before slamming it closed with a, "you're sick!"
You stared at the door and vainly said under your breath, "you're the sick one." In your head you had realised the real truth to that; how maybe you're both sick because, as the dust settled, you can only think about a handful of things.
The kiss. Her ass. Her cute little tits.
You didn't see her again for the rest of the evening. She reserved herself to her room, while you resigned to the couch with nothing but the television keeping you company.
It had been a long time since you had a shouting match like that with Hanni. See, it used to happen all the time when she first moved in. The problem with a girl like her whose whole world revolves around singing, dancing, media training and beauty is that she lacks any sense of what it's like to be an independent adult. It seemed like the fights would never end, on account of her being seemingly incapable of washing a dish, her clothes or even cooking the most simple of things without burning it or setting something on fire.
But this? This is uncharted territory.
The night wound down, and you were headed to bed, but you found yourself outside her door. Your hand raised, ready to knock. Your breath held. Right when you finally built enough courage is when you heard it. Heard her. Moans muffled through the wood of her door. Your stomach knotted. Your groin twitches.
You lingered, unable to tear yourself away. Even as your logical side began arguing with you that you were in the wrong. That you're probably the worst sort of pervert imaginable and you should feel nothing but guilt.
The other voice, the more confident one; the devil on your shoulder told you that it's Hanni's fault. You had just warned her, and this is what she did in response, like it’s all some sort of game. You refused to admit to yourself that hearing her groaning, whimpering, and moaning through the wall influenced you—tempted you.
Louder and louder. Her voice raised higher, getting to the point where you knew she was practically screaming in the throes of pleasure. Harder and harder you grew. The rational side of you was saying that you should ignore it. Just go to sleep. Forget about it.
"Fuck!" she moaned, and you remained, listening through the door—lost in imagination.
Then you heard footsteps. Bare feet patting on wooden flooring coming closer and closer towards the door. A rush to retreat and you slipped toward your bedroom door. You barely reach the handle before the door across the hall opens.
There was a moment. The two of you locked eyes. Every fibre in your being fought against looking down.
"What?" she asked with a stone-cold expression.
"Nothing." You said, and your willpower broke. You glanced down. Completely naked, she stands at the door, her nipples peaked to fine little tips. And your gaze drifted down her soft curves and slender figure, her wide hips and full thighs.
"Nothing," she mocks.
Her eyes glanced down for a second, then back to your face, and her gaze narrowed. You panicked, dipped into your room and slammed the door just like she did earlier. You press your back to it, the cool wood against your burning body. Your mind raced.
Her feet slapped again against the wooden floor and headed toward the bathroom. That should have been that. You slipped into your bed, frustrated and confused. The sound of the shower running quickly drifted through the walls, but her cries from earlier replayed in your mind until you fell asleep.
That should have been that.
You woke to the darkness of the room—not the morning sunshine—sometime later. Half in a haze, not quite conscious yet, but something had roused you from your slumber: a movement under the sheets and a strange sensation. Warm and damp. Your eyes flicked open, adjusting to the darkness. Your hands jerked reflexively toward your groin and then your senses sharpened.
Someone between your legs. A warm and wet something sliding up and down the shaft of your hardness. Tongue? Yeah, a tongue. Your fingers reached and buried themself into hair. Stomach muscles spasmed as your hips thrust up on their own. Your lips parted as you moaned, "Fuck."
You glanced down.
Hanni.
Naked.
The tip of your cock at her mouth, lips pursed around it. Her smiling eyes sparkled and her skin glimmered, bathed in moonlight coming through the open curtains. Hanni giggled when your eyes met. Your hand dropped to her shoulder.
"Hanni..." Your throat choked dry, and you pushed at her shoulder.
"Shhh." The word whispered against your sensitive tip.
"What the hell are you..." You tried to ask, but Hanni shook her head before sucking in a breath. Then she drew the length of your cock into her warm, wet mouth and the question escaped you. "Holy shit," you gasped.
"This can be our dirty little secret," she said when she lifted her head, fingers stroking you. "We can pretend it didn’t happen in the morning, but for the rest of the night," her finger tickled down the underside of your cock as she spoke, "it can be as real as you want it to be."
You remember being convinced that it was a dream. Maybe one that you would wake up from with a mess in your shorts and, honestly, that probably would have been bad enough—having a wet dream about your step-sister. Reality intruded and threatened to drag you back from your delusion. Hanni took you into her mouth again and it was so very real.
There was no doubting the pleasure, and it was too good to make her stop. You took your hand away from her shoulder, allowing her to do as she pleased. Maybe if it was just a dream, you could allow yourself to indulge in the madness just one time…
"Fucking hell, Hanni." The words slipped from you, and with it, her warm mouth left your throbbing cock.
You peered down at her. She wiped the drool from the sides of her lips and smiled at you. Her eyes were wide as she lowered her head and slipped your dick into her warm mouth once more. Your body jolted as she put her tongue to work. She swirled the tip along the contours and ridges, then licked down the underside of the shaft and then right back up the top, leaving a thin film of saliva on your hardness.
She clasped her hand around you and it all felt far too real. Mixed emotions. There was a cold sense of terror in your heart, even with the heat of arousal radiating all over. The things she did with her lips and her tongue made you doubt your sanity.
"Does that feel good?" She said as she took a quick pause, stroking her hand along the full length. She had just caught her breath in the one moment where she stopped sucking, the first chance where her mouth wasn't busy trying to draw the soul out of you through the tip of your cock.
"You were right." She spoke almost as quickly as your mind spun. "About... the step-brother thing. It feels sick, and gross, and... wrong. It makes me feel dirty." Hanni pauses for a second, seemingly running her eyes over your body and then asks, "how depraved does it make me that it gets me really, really horny?"
Hanni had no clue that the same thoughts filled the back of your mind. Only that you weren't able to string it into words like she did. She was right. It felt really wrong, and yet there was a rush to do something that should never be done. This was where the next step began. The breaking of the boundaries. The perverse excitement in the face of the taboo.
Her hand reached out behind her and pulled back the sheets that covered her body. She was crouched between your spread legs, head still by your cock, her soft ass in the air. The cool light from the moon kissed her skin as she slowly slipped her fingers between her plump cheeks. "And this only made it worse. I've been so horny ever since I started wearing it."
Her hand moved slightly, just out of view behind her, and she let out a breathy moan.
"Hanni. What're you—
You're interrupted. "It hurt a little at first. Just a bit but you get used to it, and if it's in a good spot, if you hit it right..." She kept touching herself in front of you, and another breathy gasp escaped her lips and then she looked up at you still lying there. "What are you waiting for? Isn't this what you want?"
That's when you stirred. Reciprocated. You sat up and she rose to meet you. In seconds, you were embracing. Frenzied. Wild. All teeth and tongues and roaming hands. Shorter than you. So much smaller. She let out a yelp when you grabbed her, though she instantly silenced it by shoving her tongue back in your mouth and kissing you deeply.
Pressed against your bare chest, her breasts felt small but supple, perfect little handfuls. Her waist is slender beneath your grasp. The thick flesh of her thighs was so full and shapely. When she opened her eyes, they had such want. Lust—pure and undeniable.
So close, and the faint whimpers at her throat are a seduction. You felt it was an invitation, and your lips kissed her chin, trailing kisses down her neck. "Yes. Yes. Yes..." she encouraged you lower. Your tongue tasted the saltiness of her skin, teeth grazing and then pinching softly. Her arms were tight around your head, nails biting into the base of your neck.
She trembled at your every caress, shook each time you teased a pert nipple. Gasped louder each time you nibbled her collarbone. You turned, lifting her, and then she fell back and presented herself to you. Her legs splayed open and her bare, wet cunt dripping, begging you to take it, but...
"No," you told yourself, "it's too fast," and you began a line of kisses down her stomach, beginning at her cleavage and trailing straight down her stomach. The muscles beneath her pale skin twitched and clenched in response and her breath had gone erratic. You reached her belly button and she hooked her legs over your shoulder, and when you dipped further she clenched her thighs and squeezed as you toyed with her.
You remember savouring the moment. Savouring the pleasure, savouring the veniality.
"Lower, please," she begged in the most needy voice. "Please, I... fuck, oh, fuck please..."
It's hard to describe it all.
Somehow, in the night, you both reached a state of understanding. A state of consensual debauchery that came with a sense of agreement; a pact signed with tongue on skin in this moment of depravity.
You kissed her, playfully moving between her legs. Thigh to thigh, to dangerously close to her wet core, and there you lingered. The air grew humid. Hanni's sweet scent filled your nose. You ran your hands up her legs and felt the warmth in your palms. She gripped onto the hair at the top of your head; her fists tightened.
"Why're you teasing me, asshole?"
Hanni's moans grew louder and more needy when you used your tongue against her. Her legs wrapped tight, hooking behind your back. There was something satisfying about her reactions to your actions, something exciting about seeing her squirm.
The tip of your tongue ran up the lips of her cunt, dipping between the fleshy folds and coming to suck upon her swollen clit. Her eyes widened at the touch, and her jaw slacked to the point her words went incoherent. Her whole body spasmed as she arched and moaned out something filthy.
One moment you had hold of her thigh, feeling her clench up and quiver, the next you found that your fingers had moved downward and pressed against her slick opening. At the slight touch of your fingertips to the tenderness there, a short cry slipped out of her again. She tightened and clenched around them as you pushed in deeper.
"Who's teasing?" you asked before you buried yourself to the knuckles in her.
A smirk formed, and Hanni was about to speak, but no words came. You pumped her at a steady pace, curling your digits within her while lapping at her clit. The taste of sin never tasted so sweet.
The combination drove her insane, and it didn’t take long until you were on the verge of making your step-sister cum.
You wrapped your lips around that swollen nub of hers and flicked it with the tip of your tongue, faster and harder, until her many moans became one, long, drawn-out and passionate, as a climax rocked through her.
Her ass lifted off the bed and her legs quivered, shaking uncontrollably while her fingers tugged painfully at the hairs on the back of your head. She jerked and gasped with a look of ecstasy on her face as she moaned your name over and over, almost reaching a scream. Your name on her lips again, and again, and you were drunk on this euphoria.
She released your head, and you postured over her, still slipping a pair of fingers into her, but slower. She drew a deep, trembling sigh and forced a smile, watching you. "I hate you," she managed.
"Do you?" you asked as you drew your cum-soaked fingers out of her. Her legs rested on your hips and the underside of your stiff cock was against her pussy. You reached around her hip, to her ass, to the plug still sat between her cheeks. Hanni hissed at your touch, biting her lip at the sensation.
"Yes. I hate you," Hanni whimpered, giving the softest moans as you tugged on the metal. Her eyelids fluttered.
"Why?" you asked.
"I just do," Hanni weakly gasped, struggling to stay strong in the moment. "You make me feel things. Things I shouldn't feel. It shouldn't be this easy."
"In that case. I hate you too, sis'."
There was this moment after you said that, where you shared a stare. Maybe the most confusing stare of your life. Calling her sis', in this position, should have been horrifying. And it was, but only at a peripheral level. Otherwise, it felt surprisingly... hot.
You dipped into her for another kiss, and this one seemed ever more ravenous than the last. You kissed with hunger and her hand ran around the back of your head. Kissed as lovers would. She was just as aroused as you and eager for more.
Slow and soft, you rocked yourself against her wetness. Your length dragged between her lips, up over her clit, and down again to poke at her entrance. You moved over and over, enjoying the tease.
The slow, sticky friction between the two of you. Her breath was sharp, as you slipped yourself over her and kissed at her neck. Every rock of your hips, she ground back against you.
"I think..." She hesitated. "Fuck. I think I'm ready. Just... go slow?"
The guilt of what's happened was a distant thing, a buzzing fly on a summer afternoon. The kind of thing that when you're so enthralled by something else, it becomes invisible. Then, with a nod and a shivering sigh, she reached down and gripped your cock. You bent back from kissing her so she could guide you.
Her tiny cunt. Her beautiful wetness. Her forbidden, decadent treasure.
Her breath was shaky. Her next words came out amid a tremble, "I've never... No one else."
You brushed stray strands of hair out of her face and ran your hand over her cheek. You gave her the reassurance she needed.
She told you, a few weeks later, how grateful she was that it was you. See, for all the filth that ran through her mind on an almost daily basis, she never imagined what it would be like. It being you—who you are and everything you meant to her—made it easy. Natural. Wonderful.
That first time, you took it all so slow. With her legs raised over yours. Watching the subtle changes in expression as you gradually moved more and more of your cock into her. Sinking deep between her pink, delicate walls. Your step-sister, panting and squirming beneath you.
"You okay?" you asked her.
"Ah... yes. This is... I love it," she responded between whining breaths.
It was just enough, the reassurance, so you could push into her the rest of the way. Her hand found its way to your shoulder; bracing as you eased in, her delicate frame tensing as you buried fully.
You watched her reaction and tried to be still as you felt her slick cunt pulse around you, wanting you. She swallowed and gripped you with the muscles within her. The second of respite didn't last long though; you weren't sure if it was a request or accident when her feet tapped against the curve of your ass, but it prompted you to fuck her.
"Feels... fuck." You sucked your breath between your teeth and braced yourself up on a shaky arm. You drew out slowly, and you noticed her nails digging into the arm you supported yourself upon.
You groaned in relief more than anything else as your hips pumped the shallow strokes that sent electricity through your body. She started pushing herself onto you as she clutched your back, drawing her heels over the small of your spine. You looked down to see her eyelids were flickering, and the sight only served to inflame you more. Her moans were so erotic and encouraging.
That first time, it was special. You took your time together to explore each other's bodies, the curves of hips, the muscles, the valleys and ridges. You caressed your stepsister's gorgeous body and then tried your best to put her through another climax, as if your efforts to reach your own were less important.
"Fuck you're so tight," you told her, during those final thrusts, buried to the hilt in her tiny, soft pussy.
She spoke, her voice weak and shuddering, "You're big... inside me..."
The fact that she held you tighter in her embrace and how it seemed that she refused to let you out of her even as she came apart was telling.
She came that night, again, this time all over your cock. The first of many times to come. A string of incomprehensible cries erupted from her in the throes of that first proper fuck. Hanni's thighs flexed around your hips. She clung desperately to your body as she cried into your mouth as she climaxed.
Not long after is when you felt it too, that impending release. A coil of pressure. Unfamiliar and intense. The mere thought of emptying inside her drove you mad. Your fingers dug into her hips as you fucked your step-sister with complete abandon.
"Don't. Not inside. Please, not inside," she murmured in an incoherent mantra of guilt and pleasure, right next to your ear.
You didn't, of course. You drove yourself right to the edge and pulled out. Her juices coated your length, slick and wet as your cock twitched in anticipation of the final moments. Hanni wanted your release as badly as you did. She took you into her hand for the finish, gripping tightly and jerking that first hot shot of cum onto her soft tummy. You thrust through her hand to let the pleasure course through you. Each thrust sent a long rope splattering onto her naked skin as she grinned up at you, flushed and sweaty, covered in your lust.
That was the first night, but definitely not the last.
The next morning arrived with Hanni in your arms—the little spoon. The little naked spoon pressed against your body. Skin to skin. She woke you with the slow rocking motion of her body, grinding her plump cheeks against you.
"I could get used to this," she whispered under her breath, smiling against the crook of your arm. "Good morning," she said to you over her shoulder. "Sleep well? You had some pretty naughty dreams last night, didn't you?"
You responded with your erection growing against the warm crevice of her butt and a gentle hum as her ass rocked over it. That was no dream. "I did," you said groggily. "As naughty as yours."
"Mmmm," is all she had as a response, lost in the pleasant distraction, grinding herself back into you even more. As she did so, you grew harder, until your stiffness pressed against the plug still wedged into her ass. Hanni had left it there overnight. "The thing about dreams is that they're easy to forget. Want to remind me of mine?"
You ran your hand down her thigh, and that's how the second time started. You caressed her flesh for a while, feeling the softness of her thighs while she silently lay there, patiently allowing you to enjoy her.
Then, you grabbed her by the knee, opening her legs and then she spoke, "Are you going to make your step-sister cum again?"
So quickly did she become so utterly shameless. You grunted in reply and then you held her leg up by hooking under the knee, and shuffled down slightly, letting your hard cock slip from between her cheeks and go between her legs.
You closed your eyes and leaned into her. Lips at her shoulders, the kisses soon trailed to her neck. She hummed as you ground your cock between her folds. Not even putting in the effort to try to actually enter her just yet, just teasing your stepsister for the moment.
Her voice filled with the sweet sound of passion.
Your heart began pounding and a flush rose to your cheeks. You could have written that first night off as a mistake. One you would regret, forget and never make again. Not after this. This is a definitive choice. One of sound mind and body, not under the tension of an argument or anything else that happened before.
This is different.
Hanni reached her hand down between her legs, pulling your cock so it would slip into her when you shift your hips. "Fuck me," she begged.
You did. You slipped inside her and heard her moan in such sweet ecstasy. She gripped the pillow she slept on the night before, burying her face in it, and moaning into it in such sweet rapture. "Fuck, yes, harder," Hanni moaned.
When she pushed her hips back onto you, her ass brushed against your belly. The rhythm began. Slow. Lazy thrusts. Enjoying every sensation in the post-sleep haze, savouring the fact that you knew how good she felt on the inside. How incredible her wet, silky, tight depths felt when you slid in and out of them.
"Is this what you wanted?" Your voice is low, near a growl. Your arms around your step-sister. It shouldn't, by all accounts, feel natural to have her like that, but it did.
"Yes, it feels incredible. Please don't stop." Your cock bottomed out within her. As deep as you could go. You groaned, and stayed there for a while, feeling your stepsister clenching down, her inner walls trying to pull you in further.
Hanni's hands gripped at the bedsheets, clutching tightly to them. The position pressed the metal of the plug between her asscheeks, and as your thrusting continued, the sensation sent a tingle through her body. It was a filthy combination. One that allowed every stroke you drove into her cunt to simultaneously send an equally blissful shock straight into her ass.
It was madness for her to indulge in the ecstasy—for both of you to lose yourselves.
You grew faster, and she unwound completely. She grew limp as she reached her climax. She couldn't even grip the bedsheets, or the pillow, her body simply submitting to the pleasure. She merely lay there as your hips battered against her soft ass, fucking her right through it.
Then she asked you, right after it subsided, "Ever fantasised about cumming on my ass before?"
The way she asked that made the question feel almost normal. "That the sort of thing they do in the porn you watch?" You slowed for a bit to deliver the tease.
Hanni couldn't keep the shy smile from creeping across her lips. "There was this one video where a guy put it all over his sister's butt. Seemed like he really liked it."
The fact she talked to you about the dirty things she likes helped it all along. It was the extent of her experience, the videos, but it helped. What it told you about what she really likes, what she enjoys... It became the basis for all your dirty experiments.
"That sounds hot. You have a cute ass."
She giggled to herself, rolling her hips, getting up onto her hands and knees and facing away from you.
You seated yourself onto your calves, giving her space and watching as she turned, giving you the view you craved. "I do?" She said as she glanced back over her shoulder, showing her innocence and naïvete in all its splendour. Her eyes sparkled and then a smile spread over her lips to match that look in her eye.
"The cutest," you told her as you kneeled behind her. One hand caressed the outside of her thigh while the other gripped the base of your cock. Eyes firmly set on that beautiful plump ass. That was the second time in just a few hours that you covered Hanni in your cum.
She watched every second as you did, barely managing a blink. Arousal and delight danced over her features in equal measure, and your name left her tongue in the form of a delightful, drawn-out groan. The effect was very apparent. With every streak and ribbon of white landing, she gasped and moaned while staring at the mess.
From that moment on, you entered regularity. It seemed like for months, every chance the two of you got to fuck, you fucked. Her room. Your room. The shower. The sofa. The kitchen. Against that window that overlooks the city's skyline. A public bathroom. A hand job in the car while you're stuck in traffic. Riding your face in a park, hidden among trees, grass, and bushes. Fucking, kissing, and biting until the both of you are exhausted and sore and dripping with sweat. It never ceased. Two insatiable appetites. Your mutual loss of control continued. The affair felt so exhilarating. An explosion of forbidden sin in an otherwise normal existence.
It all came with its fair share of close calls. That Saturday morning surprise visit from your parents where you answered their knock at the door and they invited themselves in, all while Hanni lies naked in your bedroom. How you sneakily warned her before she emerged and spun the story to them both about how she slept on your floor out of fear after watching another one of her horror movies. They bought it, of course, because they couldn't imagine there being any other explanation.
Then there was Hanni's near miss with her group. She told you all about how Minji had picked up on how something had changed with her; about how convinced Minji was that Hanni had found herself a boyfriend. About the look Minji gave her as Hanni protested, and finally how she got away with a half-truth.
She told the girls it was because of you and how you would work out together on weekends to make her feel better.
Everything was going so well, which made this week even more confusing.
It's been days since you last saw her. The longest you have gone in some time. Long hours and staying over with her members are one thing. Going days with no word or anything at all is another. She ignored your texts, never returned your calls, and stopped showing up at home like you'd come to expect.
No warning.
Nothing.
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Need 2 (Logan Howlett x f!reader)
A/N: So...I'm back already lol. This sort of just came to me last night. I was rewatching the first and second X-Men movies and got a little inspired. This is also inspired by the song "Need 2" by Pinegrove. Didn't think I'd be posting another fic already, but here we are. Hopefully y'all enjoy!
Summary: You and Logan have always been plagued with nightmares, so avoiding sleep is just something you two have in common...until you find yourselves in each other's beds, helping one another through your nightmares.
Warnings: 18+! Smut! Minors DNI! PWP. Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), Fingering, AFAB!reader, fem!reader, Reader has some hair at the nape of her neck that can be played with (length, color and texture are not described!), mutant!reader, cursing, canon typical violence, angst, praise kink, feelings, nightmares, friends to lovers, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's all?
Word Count: 3,906
Some nights, it was easier not to sleep. It was easier to go down into the kitchen, the living room, or one of the many libraries in the mansion and stay awake. It was easier than forcing yourself to go to bed, just to wake up screaming thirty minutes later.
So tonight, like far too many nights, you’ve found yourself in your favorite corner in your favorite library in the mansion. You’re reading Simone de Beauvoir’s letters to Sartre when a familiar figure enters the room.
“What’re you doing awake?” Logan’s voice is gruff, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his beater tight against his chest. “You should be asleep.”
“Can’t sleep,” You answer, placing a bookmark between the pages and shutting the book. You look up at the old grandfather clock on the other side of the room. 2:00 AM. “You should be sleeping too.” You smirk patting the free space next to you on the loveseat.
He shakes his head. “Too stuffy in here.”
You roll your eyes, placing the book down on the couch. “Then what’s your plan, big guy?”
He holds up his beer and points down the hall. “Gonna sit in front of the T.V. You can too,” he pauses tentatively, “if you want.”
“S-sure,” you stutter. Why are you stuttering? You spend time with Logan constantly. This isn’t new. This is normal. You feel your heart rate pick up. This is ridiculous. This is a totally regular night.
You stand and follow him down the hall and into another room, one with a lit fireplace and a television. You both sit down, leaving a generous amount of room between the two of you. Logan reaches for the remote and turns the T.V. on. He surfs through the channels before stopping on a movie you instantly recognize.
“Casablanca?” You ask, turning towards him, letting yourself move just a bit closer as you do so. You feel like he’s moved closer in too.
He nods, his eyes glued to the screen. “It’s a classic.”
You can’t help but smirk. “Never pinned you for the love story type.”
“You’d be surprised,” he says back as he turns towards you again. There’s a faint smile on his face. You swear his eyes flicker down to your lips for just a second before he turns to face the T.V. again.
A few minutes go by like this, the two of you just inches away from one another. You can’t concentrate on the movie with him this close. It’s impossible.
Despite the heat of the fire, you start to feel a chill. Goose bumps rise on your arms, and you pull your legs into your chest, your arms wrapping around your knees.
Logan immediately notices, shifting to grab the throw blanket from behind him. “Cold?” He asks, taking the opportunity to move closer towards you as he tosses the blanket over the two of you.
“Y-yeah, thanks,” you answer. But you’re still cold. You bring the blanket up so that it rests just under your chin. For such an old mansion, the A/C must work great. No wonder the fire was already lit when you and Logan got in here.
Logan notices again. He rests his arm against the back of the couch. “You could…” He trails off, nodding his head to offer the space right next to him, in his arms. “Come over here?” You nod back, scooching closer until your side presses into his.
He’s an absolute furnace. He pulls you into his chest, rubbing up and down your arm gently. He’s so warm. You instinctively curl into him, wanting nothing more than to be closer to him. For the first time in months, you feel comfortable enough—safe enough—to fall asleep.
“Better?” He asks, his lips brushing against your forehead.
You nod against his chest. “So much better.” You whisper. You can feel your eyelids growing heavy. You let them fall shut. Let yourself go. Give in. Finally.
“Lo?” You quietly call out. You’re so close to sleep that you don’t even realize you’re speaking.
You can feel his smile on the side of your head. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“You feel so nice.” You’re mumbling, half asleep. It’s nonsense, but it’s true. “So safe.”
He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You do too. Now get some sleep.”
You shake your head softly. “Only if you sleep, too.”
You think you feel another kiss. One of his hands reaches up to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. “I will, I promise.”
You drift off to sleep, waking up just once about an hour and a half later to see Logan still on the couch beside you. He’s asleep, still holding you to his chest. You don’t wake him. You let yourself fall asleep again.
You wake up a few hours later, this time in your own bed, the sun shining through your curtains. You notice a note next to your pillow.
Glad you got some sleep. -Logan
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You can hear him, his grunts, his screams. You jump out of bed and sprint down the hall. You don’t need a flashlight to find his room. You know the way by heart. You don’t even bother knocking. You burst in and shut the door behind you.
You run over to the side of his bed and start to softly shake him. “It’s just a dream, Lo,” you call out to him. He doesn’t wake up. He’s still grunting, still tossing and turning. You feel helpless. “Logan, it’s okay.” You speak a bit louder this time, putting more of your weight on his shoulders as you shake him. Nothing. No change.
“Logan, please wake up.” Louder again. And still nothing. “Fuck it.”
You climb onto the bed, maneuvering so that you can get on top of him. You’re straddling him now, which probably isn’t the world’s greatest idea. You shake his shoulders harder as he winces, his head thrashing against the mattress, his chest rapidly rising and falling.
“Come on, Lo, wake up.”
And then, he’s sitting up, claws out, the tips just nudging the base of your throat. “It’s me!” You shout. “It’s just me!” You can hear the shing of his claws retracting. You look down to see that the collar of your shirt is sliced.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” He’s wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest, scanning your body frantically for any injury. He’s moving up and down your skin like a wildfire, checking every possible surface that he could have pierced or sliced.
You try to stop him, but he refuses to listen. “You didn’t get me, Logan. I’m okay, really.”
He pushes you down onto the mattress, carefully turning you over onto your stomach before you can protest. “I’m just checking your back, okay?”
“You couldn’t have touched my back. That’s physically impossible.” You try to turn back over, but he keeps you down, one hand pinned between your shoulder blades as the other pulls up your shirt to search your skin. You suddenly remember you aren’t wearing a bra. You’re not wearing any shorts, either. Just your oversized pajama shirt and panties.
His fingers gently trace your skin before reaching up to pull the shirt back down. He finally lets you turn over. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting on your knees, just a few inches away from Logan. It’s your turn to reach out to him now. You bring up a tentative hand to his shoulder; he trembles under your touch but doesn’t push you away. You move a bit closer, your knee slotting into the space between his thighs. Your hand slides up his shoulder to his neck, and he finally leans into your palm.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers again. He moves closer, shifting his thighs further into your own. “I never, ever want to hurt you.” He brings his arms back around you, hesitantly pulling you into his chest. You let him, let him hold you. You know he needs to—needs to feel someone else. You wrap your arms around his body too.
“I know, Lo. It’s okay. No more apologizing.” You hold him tighter. “Are you okay?”
He hums as his face burrows into the crook of your neck. “Just a nightmare.” A part of you is surprised he’s letting you hold him and holding you back. “I fucked up your shirt.”
You let your head rest against his shoulder. “I know.”
“Almost fucking killed you.” He’s trembling again like he wants to push you away.
You hold him tighter. “You didn’t though,” You mumble against his bare skin. “Please don’t run away. Let me hold you, please.”
He relaxes again, pulling you in tighter in response. “Why do you care about me?”
You shake your head in disbelief. “Why do you care about me?” You ask back.
He scoffs. “Because I…” He trails off. You can tell he’s not giving you the whole truth. “I just do. You’re you. That’s all there is to it.”
“Exactly. And you’re you.” You can feel his lips ghost against your neck—not quite a kiss, but not quite nothing either. “So, I care about you too.”
“I don’t deserve it, the way you care about me.” His lips don’t move from that half-kiss position along your neck as he speaks. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Your voice is suddenly stern, assertive. “You deserve so much, Logan. So much.” Before you can even think about what you’re doing, you press a kiss against his bare shoulder. And then another. And another.
“You should go back to bed.” His voice is low and hoarse. He finally presses a true kiss into your neck, too.
You shake your head. “No,” you whisper. “Let me stay with you.”
“But what if I—”
You cut him off. “Please.”
He doesn’t protest this time. He just guides you down to the pillows, keeping one arm tightly around your waist as the other brings the covers up and over the two of you.
You stay intertwined, your legs tangled up with his, your chests pressed tightly together. You bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, gently raking your nails through his hair. His lips find your neck again, kissing that spot just underneath your ear. It’s chaste, but there’s something else there. You know there is.
You can feel him relaxing, drifting off into sleep, and so you let yourself do the same. There’s nowhere you feel safer than with Logan.
When you wake up, you’re still in Logan’s bed, but his side is empty. Again, there’s a note on the pillow next to you.
Thank you. Hope this makes up for what I did. -Logan.
Underneath the note is his favorite Rolling Stones shirt.
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You’re somewhere dark, sitting on a cold metal chair, your hands shackled in more cold metal. The air tastes like metal, too. And then it dawns on you: Magneto.
His figure appears in front of you, his hand extended out towards something...perhaps someone. Towards no one? No. There he is, floating in front of you. Logan. “NO!” You yell. You can feel your throat burn as you shout.
“Let him go!” You scream. But Magneto doesn’t budge. He holds Logan in the air, bending the metal in his body. He stretches Logan’s claws out. You remember when Logan told you it hurts every time he unleashes them. You can’t imagine the pain he’s in now.
“Logan!” You cry out. Your abilities don’t seem to work, no matter how hard you try. You’re powerless, helpless, useless. You echo his name repeatedly to no avail.
You’re forced to sit and watch as his claws bend backward. Tears run down your face as Logan screams in agony. There’s nothing you can do. You thrash in place.
“Let him fucking go!” You sob, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Logan! I’m so sorry. Oh fuck. I’m so sorry.” A familiar name calls for you in the distance, but you ignore it. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. “So fucking sorry.”
The voice shouts your name again. And again. Tears stain your cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumble.
“It’s just a dream, come on, wake up for me sweetheart.” You know that voice. “I’m right here, just wake up.”
Your eyes finally flutter open. There he is, in front of you, his solid frame heavy on top of you. “Lo?” You push yourself up to meet him.
“It’s me, darlin’, It’s me.”
You throw your arms around him, sobbing into his bare chest. “Fuck,” you mumble against him.
He wraps his arms tightly around your body, carefully bringing you back down to the bed. “It’s okay. It’s over now. I’m here.”
“How’d you know I was…” You trail off, swallowing harshly, not wanting to think about what you just dreamed of.
“You called my name. I came the second I heard you.” His voice is soft but shaky. It dawns on you that you scared him.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Tears stream down your cheeks, your voice a trembling mess.
He presses a soft kiss against your shoulder, and then that usual spot in the crook of your neck. He somehow manages to pull you tighter into his chest. “Don’t be sorry darlin’, please. Nothing to be sorry for.”
“But I woke you,” you protest. “I scared you.”
“That’s fine, sweetheart.” His breath tickles the skin of your neck. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He’s kissing you more fervently than normal. There’s something panicked about his movements, like he’s still worried that you might not be fine.
You take a deep breath. “Lo?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“Can you stay with me?” You feel like a child, but you don’t care. You want to feel him. You need to be close to him. You can’t lose him. Not now. Not ever.
His legs tangle with yours. “I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is a whisper now.
You nod, pushing yourself further into him. “Need to feel you,” you say, running your hands along his back, his chest, his waist. You need him, every inch, every curve. All of him.
“Darlin’,” he mutters. “What do you mean?”
You break away from him for just a second. His brows are furrowed. “Need you, Lo.”
You watch his throat bob as he swallows. “You have me.”
“No Logan I-I—” You stutter. “I want you. Need you. I need you closer. Please.”
His eyes search yours, his hands finding their way under your shirt. His fingers climb higher, stopping just below your chest, where the hem of your bra would be.
You inhale deeply and press harder into him. “Please, Lo. Please.”
“Sweetheart, is this really what you want?” You can feel his breath against your lips. He’s so close, but not close enough. “That dream…” He pauses. “If this is only because of the dream…”
You shut your eyes, remembering what you saw. You feel a tear slide down your still-wet cheek. You breathe deeply. “Wanted you before the dream,” you murmur nervously.
“Darlin’, you gotta be careful saying things like that.” He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. Your noses touch gently. He slots his legs higher between yours and pulls you closer.
“Why?” You ask.
“Because I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you.” His hands become less hesitant, his fingers tracing the underside of your chest, slowly charting a course to your nipples.
He opens his eyes, searching your face for consent, and you immediately nod. “I’m yours. Been yours the whole time.”
That’s all the permission he needs to bring his lips to yours, to hungrily swallow everything you’re willing to give him. His fingers gently pinch your nipples before drawing lazy circles around them. Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue slips across your lower lip. You open up and let him inside, savoring the taste of him.
You’re still side by side, tangled up with one another, but it’s not close enough. You need more.
“Logan,” you call, leaving one hand on his bare back as you let the other trail down his chest, to the hem of his sweats. But before you can get any further, he grabs your hand, freezing you in place.
He shakes his head against yours. “Wanna take care of you.”
“But I wanna take care of you, too,” you whine.
He just smiles. “You always do, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good.” He drops your hand, and one of his own trails down your body, down to the ridden-up hem of your shirt—his shirt, actually—the one he left on the pillow. “Looks better on you than it ever did on me.” He pulls it up, revealing your stomach and tits. One of his hands continues to massage your breasts, playing with your nipples, while the other travels back down to the hem of your panties. His fingers slip inside, sliding down through your folds and back up to your clit. You shudder under his touch.
He starts to draw slow, lazy circles there. You can’t help but grind into his hand, needy for more. You whisper his name as his touch becomes harder, faster.
“So fucking wet for me. Soaking already.” The whimper rising in your throat at his words is swallowed by another deep, desperate kiss.
You hang onto him, your arms around his back as he pulls you closer to the edge. He can tell you need the contact, the closeness, and so he pulls away from your tits, his now-free hand slipping underneath you and snaking around your waist, holding you closer than before. Your chest is flush with his as his fingers rub harder at your clit.
You can feel yourself coming undone, your hips rocking against him uncontrollably. “I’m so close,” you pant.
“I know pretty girl,” he murmurs. He breaks away from your face, finding that spot in the crook of your neck that he loves so much. You throw your head back as his lips find purchase in the same area as always. “Doing so good for me. Wanna feel you come on my fingers.”
His whispers in your ear, his little bites and kisses against that spot on your neck, his fingers on your clit, it’s all too much. “Lo,” you whine, shutting your eyes and pressing your face into his shoulder.
“That’s it, darlin’, let go.”
That’s all it takes to have you seeing stars. You grind down onto his fingers, your hips still canting back and forth as you come undone. You can feel Logan smile against your neck as he slows down his pace. After a moment or two, his hand slips out of your panties and comes up to rest on your hip.
You bring your forehead back to his. “You alright, sweetheart?” His low, husky whisper fills the air.
“Mhm,” you hum. “Still want you, Lo.”
“Are you sure?” He asks, his thumb brushing gently across your hip.
You nod. “Need you closer.”
“Fuck,” he groans. His thumb hooks under the hem of your panties and he pulls them down your legs. You slip them off the rest of the way as Logan turns you on your back. You watch him above you, thumbs hooked inside his sweats. He pulls them down quickly, his cock springing up to his stomach in the process. Your eyes widen as you take in just how big he is.
He pushes his sweats down the rest of the way, and he slots himself in between your legs. You can feel the length of him on the inside of your thigh. “Wanted you for so long, pretty girl,” he grunts. His forearm rests next to your head, caging you in and keeping him steady, while his other hand guides his cock through your folds, teasing your entrance.
“Logan,” you whine, your hands reaching up to his neck, pulling his face down to meet you. “I’m yours.”
You gasp as he fills you up, his hand immediately reaching between your bodies to find your still-sensitive clit. His pace is slow at first, letting you adjust to his length, rocking into you gently. His thumb flicks your clit before drawing those same lazy circles from before. You’re already close, still drunk off the first orgasm he pulled from you.
“So fucking tight,” he moans. “Doing so good for me.” You can feel him building speed, pumping in and out of you. He feels so good, rubbing against your walls, stretching you out. He’s so close, so real, so safe.
“Needed you so bad,” you whimper, spreading your legs wider, inviting him in.
You can feel him throb inside you at your words. “Needed you too.” The sound of his voice pushes you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering around his cock. His circles on your clit are no longer gentle or slow. He thrusts faster, rutting into you hit after hit.
“L-Lo,” you stutter, shaking underneath him. “I-I’m so clo…” But you can’t finish your sentence. Your eyes flutter open and shut.
“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’ve got you. Never gonna let you go.”
You take in a sharp breath. “’M’yours,” is all you can manage to say.
“Mine,” he breathes, his hips rocking into you again and again. “Can feel you squeezing me, beautiful.”
“S-so close,” you choke in between thrusts. His fingers work harder on your clit, his lips moving against yours like they belong there, always.
“Then let go, darlin’,” he says against your lips. He pushes deeper into you than before, your walls clamping down onto him. You feel heat rise to your chest as you shatter around him. You echo his name over and over again as you ride out your orgasm. You know he’s close behind, his thrusts faltering, growing sloppier with each pump.
“W-where do you want—”
“Inside.”
“F-fuck,” he’s a choking, moaning mess as he comes undone inside you. You can feel him paint your walls, filling you up. He pumps in and out of you a few more times before he starts to slip out.
“W-wait,” you stutter, grabbing him, holding him in place.
He freezes. “You okay?” Concern is painted across his face, his brows furrowed, trying to discern what’s wrong.
“J-just don’t want you to go,” you murmur.
He smiles as he slides out of you. He pulls you tightly into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You shut your eyes as his hands settle on your lower back. “Don’t leave, okay?”
“I promise,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Relax. I’ve got you. I’m here.”
You can’t fight your exhaustion anymore, so you do as he says. You fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing, to his kisses on your forehead, to the tracing of letters and shapes along your back.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, as pale light trickles through the curtains of your room, you see there’s no letter. No empty space next to you in the bed.
There’s just Logan, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you tight against his chest. Your eyes flutter open. His are still closed. But he can tell you’re awake.
“’M’not going anywhere,” he mumbles, still half asleep. “Too early. Go back to bed.”
He’s right. So, you do.
tags: @seamlessepiphany
#Logan Howlett x reader#James Logan Howlett x reader#Wolverine x reader#Logan Howlett smut#James Logan Howlett smut#Wolverine smut#Logan Howlett x you#James Logan Howlett x you#Wolverine x you#Logan Howlett x reader smut#James Logan Howlett x reader smut#Wolverine x reader smut#Logan Howlett x you smut#James Logan Howlett x you smut#Wolverine x you smut#Logan Howlett oneshot#Logan Howlett fanfiction
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Weaknesses part 6: birthday present
cw: this one is nasty lol
Gaz wants to make home movies :) special lingerie for the occasion, a really nice camcorder you had no idea he had, a tripod he borrowed from someone who definitely doesn’t know what he’s using it for. And he wants to have you in literally every position you’ll let him get you in. One day, Gaz is going to get drunk and let slip that the video exists, and Soap is going to beg to see it, just so you know.
Ive mentioned what Soap wants for his birthday a couple of times, but I’ll say the more tame of my ideas again: no deodorant and he wants you to work out. Literally get as sweaty as you can with as much of your musk in your underwear as possible. Nothing to hide your natural scent. He wants to bury his face in your panties and your pits while her jerks himself off, then he’s gonna shoves his face in your cunt and spend a few hours down there.
Simon wants you to go somewhere with him wearing a skirt, and going commando. Some mid-thigh length number that he can easily slip his way under wherever you are, whenever he feels like it. Don’t worry, he’ll help you hold it down when a breeze comes by.
Price wants you collared. Who says just cause it’s his birthday, he should be the only one getting a gift? Don’t worry— he won’t have you leashed when you go out for his birthday dinner— just when you get home. Well, maybe in the car. But when you’re out, he keeps a grip on the back of the collar to lead you around, as casually as he puts his hand on the small of your back usually. And you KNOW the first thing that gonna happen when you get home is you getting on your knees, the leash wrapped in his fist while he pulls your mouth farther down his cock.
König wants heat roleplay. There, I said it. He already calls you maus, now he wants to see you wet and needy and desperate for him like a mammal in heat. Is he going to ask you to wear ears and a tail? No. Is he going to get so hard he almost passes out if you do? Yes. He loves the idea of you needing him and only him to be satisfied— that there’s a fire inside you that only he can quench. And to do so, he’s gonna have to fuck you raw until you’re dripping with him, bred the way you need to be.
Nikolai wants costumes and roleplay. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. Teacher and schoolgirl, pilot and stewardess, slasher and camp counselor, knight and princess, evil advisor and princess (and yes, he gets you a different princess dress than the one from last year), he comes up with a new one every year. Once he even managed to get what quite honestly looked like authentic uniforms from world war 2, one Russian infantry and one nurse’s uniform.
#writing#cod fanfic#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#john soap mctavish x reader#simon riley x reader#könig#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#weaknesses#johnny mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish#john price x reader#captain john price#john price#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley x reader#nikolai#nikolai cod x reader#cod nikolai x reader#könig cod#cod nikolai#nikolai cod#cod x you#cod x reader
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ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴍʏ - ʀʜᴇᴀ ʀɪᴘʟᴇʏ
Summary: Spending time around Becky's kids gives her the biggest baby fever. WC: 1.7k Warnings: Breeding, babies, pregnancy, pregnancy kink, car sex, sex in a car, blow jobs in a car, strap-on, oral sex, choking, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation
You’d seen her smile today, the smile that always curves her lips in the presence of children; it was free and content and it made your heart practically burst at the seams. It was so effortless and comforting to fall into place beside her, taking your seat next to her on the ground where she played with Roux, joining in with the game they’d created.
Rhea saw you with the children too, watching fondly as you laughed in hushed tones with Roux, causing mischief with the boy before trying to pass your bad influence onto Archie too. It was silent the way you’d both come to the same conclusion, this is what you wanted next.
So later in the day, when the children were subdued from their drained energy and the sky was beginning to darken outside, you all made your way to the living room to watch a movie to end the evening. You were only innocently refilling your glass in the kitchen when she rested her chin on your shoulder with her arms snaking around your waist.
Your breath hitched lightly when you felt her brush against your ass, a bulge you’d not been aware of pushing into you.
“Rhea, have you been wearing that all day?” you whispered, she only smirked against your neck with her kiss.
“Mhm.” She nodded with her hands inching downwards to rest on your belly. “You’d look so perfect with my baby in you, sweetheart.”
Always the tease, she left you with a kiss on the cheek and a smirk as she left the room. And her teasing didn’t quite stop there with her hand setting up home on your thigh as the movie played and her lips ghosting your ear with occasional whispers to make you laugh. She even went so far as to guide your hand to her crotch, holding in a laugh at the way you’d cough to hide your surprise.
“This could be ours soon, love,” she whispered to you with a grin that matched yours, an innocent facade before her voice lowered and her hand dared to inch upwards beneath the blanket. “You’re gonna look so pretty when I’ve fucked a baby into you.”
She snickered at the way you fidgeted in your seat, looking at her with pleading eyes. It was lucky she adored seeing you look so needy because she grabbed your hand and pulled you to a standing position.
“We’re gonna have to get going,” She smiled at the rest of the group. “I’m getting tired and I need to drive us home.”
You looked over at her as she drove with her fingers gripping the steering wheel with her other hand on the gear stick, often moving over to rest on your thigh with a smile shot your way. Your conversation was held with an undertone of anticipation of the evening you were both looking forward to, you’re certain your underwear is soaked by now with the growing heat between your thighs.
“So I think that w- oh, what’re you doing?” She interrupted herself with her words spoken through a large smirk with her eyes flicking down to your hand where it had made its way to her lap. You wordlessly unbuckled her belt with a metallic clink, pulling at the zipper of her jeans.
You smiled sweetly at her when she glanced over, freeing her strap as she adjusted slightly in her seat. You climbed up onto your seat to be able to lean over, peering up at Rhea through your lashes as you lowered your head until your lips brushed against the tip; she nudged your head lower and your jaw slackened to take her into your mouth with your tongue licking over the length.
“You’re such a good little slut, aren’t you, hm?” She rasped from above your bobbing head, you knew just how to suck her strap in a way that hits against her clit and the sensation and the sight of your head in her lap, her hand cupping the back of your neck, made her ravenous. Your eyes watered slightly with the way she’d lift her hips but god it felt so good, lips wrapped around her cock as it hit the back of your throat.
You heard the clicking of the car’s indicators before feeling it come to a stop, Rhea tapped your cheek lightly for you to pull away and she loved the perfect sight. Your lips were wet, a string of spit clinging to them from her strap and your eyes were so desperate.
She’d pulled over to the side of the road in her lusting thoughts, lucky enough to take a slight detour to somewhere a little more secluded.
“C’mere.” she spoke with a nod of her head towards her lap which you instantly obeyed but not before eagerly ridding yourself of your jeans, climbing over to her side of the car with your knees planted either side of her legs. Your hands cupped her cheeks while hers held your waist, pulling her into a kiss you’d both been craving.
She kissed you firmly with the softness of her lipstick transferring onto you, taking all control with her hands pulling you into her with her strap ghosting against your clothed cunt teasingly. Your hips twitched on their own accord, just chasing down any semblance of pressure while her tongue pushed against yours dominantly and her hands crept beneath your shirt with the bluntness of her nails digging into your skin.
She was so ravenous for you, groaning into your mouth at your whines and the way your hips tried to move against her.
“Such a needy girl.” She muttered against you, trailing her lips across your jaw, planted kisses beneath your ear with her teeth grazing the skin. “Fuck yourself on daddy’s cock like the obedient thing you are.” She whispered, pushing the material of your underwear aside and positioning the tip of her cock at your dripping entrance.
Your hands held onto her shoulders as you sunk down onto her length, taking it inch by inch as it filled your pussy until it nudged perfectly at your sweet spot and Rhea bathed in the surreal sight of your mouth dropping open with a silenced moan as you began a rhythm. She pulled your shirt over your head with a wanton lust clouding her gaze, unclasping your bra and throwing it aside with no cares of possibly being seen through the windows, too intent on pulling a hardened nipple between her teeth.
Your movements sent a heat through Rhea's core, the way you fucked yourself hit against her clit and you felt her moan against your chest, biting into the pillowy flesh of your breast with a suck that’ll leave a mark behind.
“God, you’re so good, sweetheart.” she rasped against you, nearing the edge herself from how worked up she’d gotten. The moan you let out when her thumb pushed over your clit just spurred her on, matching your pace with thrusts of her hips. You came together with unplanned synchrony, breathing heavily against one another’s lips, too starving to allow much time to pass before Rhea's strength was put to good use.
She easily manoeuvred your body, helping you climb to the back seats closely following behind you with her body straddling yours where your back lay against the leather. You watched her undress herself, discarding her jeans and pulling her shirt over her head with her breasts being set free with a bounce when she unclasped her bra; she smirked at the way your mouth practically watered at the sight.
Her nipple was hard beneath the flick of your tongue and she sighed at the sensitivity, at the way you sucked it into your mouth with your fingers pinching at the other, palming at the soft flesh. Her hand pushed against your throat and the vibration from your whimpers just urged her on.
Your underwear were pulled away and her cock roughly pushed into your pussy with little warning.
“‘M gonna fuck this needy pussy of yours until you’re a pathetic little mess.” She murmured with her voice low and her hips moving with a teasing pace. “Gonna fill you up with my cum like the breeding bitch you are.”
The hand that wasn’t resting against your neck took a firm hold of your thigh and your legs wrapped around her waist to pull her into you, belly twinging and choked moans falling into her mouth from yours with the way her dick fucked into you.
“Fuck, daddy- feels so good.” You stuttered out against her.
“Mhm. And you’re taking me so well.” She returned, looking into your eyes lustfully whilst the arousal pooled in her stomach too, her back growing sticky with sweat beneath your fingertips with the way your nails aimlessly scratched her skin making her lips part with grunts of pleasure. “You’re gonna look so perfect with your belly swollen and full with my baby growing inside of your beautiful body.”
Every word she murmured set your skin alight, pussy clenching around her with the lewd wetness of your cunt sounding out in the car with each snap of her hips into yours. Her movements began to stutter with how close she was growing to her release, grasping her bottom lip between her teeth while your moans were nothing but breathy choked grunts.
“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. C’mon, show me how good you can be for me. Cum around daddy’s dick.”
Her back was littered in nails marks, crescent grooves and light pink scratches, only being added to when she sent sublime waves throughout your body. Every sense was flooded and drowning in Rhea, coming down from your orgasms with sloppy and breathless kisses, teeth often clashing with no cares about the way her teeth tugged at your lip with a metallic flavour left behind.
Her strap stilled in your pussy, leaving you with that feeling of fullness as she kissed you; her bare breasts pushed against yours and you could feel her body rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Her lips pecked along the heated skin of your cheek, cupping your jaw softly before smiling down at you.
“You think it worked?” You asked which earned a chuckle in return.
“I think we should try more when we get home - just to up our chances.” She shrugged smilingly.
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oblivious!reader x downbad!spencer who’s not even nervous to flirt with reader anymore cuz she just doesn’t get it (probs older episodes spence)
CLUELESS | Spencer Reid x reader
description: Spencer's got a crush, too bad you're entirely clueless to his dilemma. (S3!Spencer in mind)
length 1.2k
At first he’d thought it was the world’s gentlest form of rejection, how you would dodge his questions, barely bat an eye at him laying himself bare for you, thought that maybe you were pretending not to see the way his hands shook and voice quivered to save him some face.
“I-I was wondering if you wanted to go see Zodiac at the movie theatre?” He stammered, obsessively tucking his hair behind his ear because it felt like it was ticking his cheeks, or perhaps that was just some residual sweat gathering on his temple because you were just so pretty when you looked at him like that, your eyes wide and excited, waiting for him to finish speaking because you always loved to listen to him, “I was thinking we could try comparing it to the actual case and figure out how accurate their hollywood version of it is,”
Your face lit up like the fourth of July, and your smile was blinding, “Oh, I love the movies! It’s going to be so fun, Spence!” You chirped, whirling around in your desk chair to meet Emily’s bored stiff expression as she scrolled through her computer, “Em, Spencer wants us to go see Zodiac, you in?”
Spencer paled, because that was not what he’d meant by we whatsoever. It wasn’t that he held anything against Emily, nor JJ or Penelope as they were quickly roped into the plans as well, he just hadn't had them in mind when he thought to ask you out on a date. From what he could tell you hadn’t escaped spending time with him alone on purpose. He just hadn’t quite been specific in his question, it was an easy mistake to make.
But you looked so excited as you organised who was getting what snacks, quickly dibsing the seat slap bang in the middle of everyone so you wouldn’t feel like anyone got left out. He thought his chest stuttered when you grabbed his hand and asked if you could sit with him since he’d remember the most about the original case, and you’d need his big brain for the little game he had planned.
Spencer agreed, instead of trying to make it clear what he’d meant by his original question, because he hated disappointing people and the other girls seemed just as thrilled to go see the movie as you were. It wasn’t until Morgan slapped him on the back with a chuckle, having watched the whole thing from his own desk that Spencer felt truly dumb.
“You’re going to have to try better than that, pretty boy,” He exclaimed, and Spencer bit his lip in thought, “Try asking her to do something in a way that leaves no room for confusion, girls like it when you’re direct,”
And he nodded vehemently, because dating advice from Morgan was usually sound and bulletproof, how else would would he have garnered the ladies man reputation?
Direct, he could be direct. Sure, Spencer could be direct.
He swallowed heavily just thinking about it.
–
“These are for you,” Spencer jumped in before you could get sidetracked by chatting his ear off about the squirrel you’d nearly ran over on your way to work, and your expression flitted into surprise.
He handed you the big bunch of pink roses and baby’s breath, and your mouth cracked into a smile immediately. “Oh, Spencer, these are beautiful, you shouldn’t have. My birthday’s not for another week,”
“And I booked us a table at that Thai place on your block that you always get- wait birthday?” Spencer stumbled over his script, the words he’d been practising all morning coming to an effective halt as he realised once again his intentions had flown right over your head. And yet before he could set his record straight, just like you had last time, you’d jumped at the chance of spending time with him without understand just what you were agreeing to.
“I love Thai food, that’s so thoughtful of you, Spence,” You said, hopping up out of your chair to give him a bear hug around his lithe waist, the flowers still tightly in the palm of your hand. He reciprocated, even if his expression was a terrible mix of frustration and confusion.
It was like someone had cast some sort of spell over his words so that he’d never be able to ask you out on a date, like he was trying to speak in a dream, the words never really coming out. You weren’t dumb, not by any means, you could be a little naive sometimes, but never cruel. Spencer had no idea what the answer was. He guessed he was right back at square one.
–
“I don’t know man, I tried asking her to the movies, she thought it was a group thing. I tried taking her out for dinner, she thought it was for her birthday, I even asked if she wanted to come over to mine and she thought I meant a sleepover. What’s romantic about pillow forts?” Spencer sighed, leaning his head into his palm as he watched you swan around the office without a single inkling of his affections, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I had fun at every one of them, but I just want there to be more. Maybe she just doesn’t feel the same,”
“Don’t lose hope, pretty boy,” Derek comforted, the seemingly appointed love Guru that had had to witness two weeks of Spencer’s advances get sidelined. He followed Reid’s gaze to where you hummed a song to yourself as you collected files from Emily’s desk to take them over to your own. He bit his lip in thought, “I don’t think it’s personal, honest, I don’t think she means anything by it. You just need to be clearer,”
“Clearer?” Spencer said with raised brows, using a single prod of his converse to swivel himself around to face you, and your expression perked into a smile just from seeing him. Derek watched the two of you closely, his theory all but game set and match as you seemed genuinely excited to see their resident genius who was convinced there was nothing there, “That shirt is really cute on you. It makes your eyes look really pretty,” Spencer said, in his most direct tone possible, because the nervousness seemed to dissipate when he knew you wouldn’t pick up on his intentions. The only sign you’d heard him at all was the way your fingers ruffled his hair affectionately.
“Aw, thank you, Spencer,” You said, a little bounce in your step as you passed his desk to your own, running a gentle hand over his arm, where his blue striped shirt bunched around his biceps, “I like your purple one the best, but this one’s quite handsome too,” You replied, grabbing the other wad of papers from your drawer without much of a reaction and heading up the stairs to Hotch’s office, and he turned back to Morgan, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
Morgan laughed, shaking his head and yanking his cup of coffee towards him, “She’ll figure it out some day, lover boy. I give it a month, tops,”
And Spencer huffed, wheeling himself back to his desk, his eyes naturally trailing up to the large window that divided them from Hotch’s personal space, the two of you discussing something jovially as if you were none the wiser to his internal predicament.
He made a note to wear his purple shirt more often.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#matthew gray gubler x reader
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so in an effort to be slightly less out-of-touch, i went and watched all of Skibidi Toilet the other day. (at present, the whole series is about the length of a feature film, so this wasn't too big a lift.)
what surprised me is just... how totally normal it was. like, it's not at all difficult to describe. people big it up as this incomprehensible thing that's emblematic of a generation gap, but it's. not.
the plot is: there's toilets with human heads in them that go "skibidi dom dom dom yes yes, skibidi dabbadul neef neef". they can move despite a lack of ambulatory appendages. this is wacky and unsettling, but the chief question is: Do They Win In A Fight Against Some Robots With Cameras For Heads?
it's an action movie about a war against an alien invasion. that's it. less than the first thirty seconds of it are anarchic GMod YTP insanity- it develops a plot almost immediately. the plot is paper-thin and conveyed almost entirely without dialogue, existing to set up giant robot fights and zombie apocalypse jumpscares.
who are these factions? why are they fighting? you aren't failing to get it because the kids these days are on some totally different psychic wavelength. the show simply does not give a shit about this question. here are some bad guys! here are some good guys! they're going to do explosions and punches at each other for roughly two minutes until the perspective camera is abruptly destroyed in the crossfire somehow.
it is a remarkably competently-shot action movie. the fight scenes are weighty and satisfying and have lots of exciting little twists and turns as the two sides pull increasingly bigger weapons and gadgets out of their asses. the production gets more elaborate over time, and it's a pretty stellar example of what machinima is capable of. genuinely good at the things it's trying to do.
it does kinda fall down a little later, as it attempts to develop Characters and Deepest Lore after kind of not caring about that for most of its runtime. the decision to have "dialogue" almost exclusively in the form of incomprehensible heavily-filtered backwards speech with no subtitles is probably rewarding for die-hard Skibidi-heads who have the time on their hands to mess with the audio and uncover all the hidden messages, but it means you are not going to understand anything anyone is saying on a normal watch.
the action suffers from this decision a little bit towards the end, as for reasons that completely fail to come across, the toilets appear to have broken into their own factions and start fighting each other and forming various alliances, which disrupts the simplicity of the setup and makes it hard to determine who's winning a fight at any given time. a giant scary toilet man just exploded! was that bad, or good? listen, don't worry about it. all you need to know is that these things are going to keep happening until DaFuqBoom gets bored.
it's like a... 7/10, shallow but enjoyable. easy to see why kids like it. not going to give you any deeper insights into the Kids These Days, but there's worse ways to spend a couple hours.
(the most confusing thing to me is how something this straightforward got a reputation for crossing some sort of rubicon of cultural alienation. did everyone born in the 20th century who talks about this show just watch eighteen seconds of it and give up???)
#skibidi toilet#note the linked playlist is missing several episodes towards the end#there's another playlist that has everything but it's in reverse chronological order and has ''season'' complilation videos duplicating shi#kind of a pain to navigate but not impossible#oh no popular post
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Movie Night Mischief
SUMMARY | You go on tour with your best friends, Mark and Jaemin. You're watching a movie with them one night, when things take an unexpected turn.
PAIRINGS | Mark x Reader x Jaemin
RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+
GENRE | idol!Mark, idol!Jaemin, non-idol!Reader, smut, threesome
CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, threesome, female masturbation, fingering, blowjobs, double penetrative sex (vaginal/anal), unprotective sex, dirty talk, praising, pet names, creampies
LENGTH | 5,194 words
TAGLIST | @shuadotcom
NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety
AUTHOR’S NOTE | I was inspired to write this because of this video. I would have happily sat my ass down lol. MarkMin has been gracing my feed and I'm going absolutely feral over them. Thank you @shadowkoo for the beautiful banner! I'm absolutely in love with it. I hope you all love this fic~ 💚
"Where am I supposed to sit?" you asked, staring down at your two best friends.
Mark and Jaemin looked up at you standing in front of them with a bowl of popcorn. The boys, seemingly forgetting you, exchanged a look. When you were asked to join NCT Dream on tour for TDS3, you jumped at the chance to be a part of the staff, though they were asking a lot more of you than you had originally agreed. All the members had grown close to you throughout your time working as a stylist throughout the years and you became close friends with Mark and Jaemin especially.
And though you knew that relationships could cause problems, not everyone could say the same and your crush on both of them had not gone unnoticed, unfortunately. If Jeno had picked up on it then, the rest had as well, seeing that Haechan teased you the most about your secret crushes. The boys were playing it like they didn't know, but it was very apparent they knew and used any and every moment to torment you. But you weren't sure if Mark and Jaemin knew about your crush on either of them.
"What do you think? Just sit here," Jaemin gestured for you to go ahead and take the place between the two as he patted a little. "Go on, don't make us stop our movie marathon."
With a small scoff, you decided to squeeze into the tiny spot between them. You rolled your eyes, while popping the pieces of popcorn into your mouth. Mark snickered before stretching his arm along the back of the couch so that it could be comfortably placed around your shoulders. Your friend nuzzled himself a bit closer into you until you could feel the heat from his body.
"Ah... this is much better," Jaemin mumbled to no one in particular. You ignored him, as he stretched his arm in the other direction, draping his body even closer. Now you were smothered by both boys and, in turn, the musky, familiar scent of them.
Mark hummed as well as he started eating his own popcorn, and watched the film in front of the television. "Right?"
You rolled your eyes, a small smile on your lips. "What are we watching anyway?"
Mark shrugged. "Honestly, no clue."
"Jaem?" you turned to Jaemin on your left.
The male sighed, "No idea."
"Great," You deadpanned, "I should just leave."
Jaemin shook his head, "Oh no, no... if we're watching, so are you. Now sit your ass down."
He yanked you back down on the couch and you crossed your arms across your chest. "I should have gone to hang out with Jeno and Haechan instead of spending my time with y'all."
"Excuse you," Jaemin laughed. "You know you'd rather be here with us. Right, Mark?"
"And here we thought you were our best friend!" Mark faked shock, widening his eyes, and opening his mouth with fake hurt.
You shoved the bucket of popcorn in front of his face. "Shut up, and just eat the popcorn."
Mark continued to chomp down the popped kernels and you tried your best not to roll your eyes again, the soft movie sounds humming from the TV. You peeked to see what Jaemin was up to. His eyes were glued on the movie, his fingers picking up a single kernel from the bowl that sat on your thighs and popping it into his mouth. You weren't aware of the soft thumps inside your chest at the simple, innocent, action he had done. Your eyes flickered to his lips that parted with each bite of the snack, the movement almost teasing. He didn't even spare a glance in your direction and you felt that was a good thing.
Mark reached over to pick up a single piece of popcorn too. His hand briefly rested on top of your thigh when he brought it back over. It was a completely accidental and friendly gesture but somehow, you wished that it meant a little more than a harmless, kind movement. His hand had been soft on top of your knee and then slowly crawled up a bit higher than his initial resting place. Your breathing quickened slightly and you bit on your lower lip, glancing at him from your periphery.
Mark's eyes were on the television but his fingers drummed against the spot on your bare leg where your shorts had ridden up a bit from the position you were in. His thumb tickled the area around the skin and he casually placed a single kernel onto his waiting tongue. Your lips were dry, so you ran your tongue across them to add some moisture. He sucked his thumb into his mouth briefly, making sure the digit was cleaned of any salt he hadn't eaten.
With your eyes trained on the TV, you brought a popcorn piece into your mouth and chewed it thoroughly. There was no need to overthink your feelings for Mark and Jaemin. These feelings would die off in no time.
Little did you know they were gonna be harder to hide.
The movie you were watching started to become a bit risqué. There was a sex scene involved and suddenly you were the one shifting uncomfortably. What was even the name of the movie they had chosen again? You couldn't recall. But apparently, Mark couldn't either, his face scrunching a bit at the scene playing out in front of him.
Jaemin reached over to the bowl and grabbed another piece. You peeked at his side profile and sighed when you knew he was fully engulfed into the movie. Then your attention shifted over to Mark. His brows knitted and he was still chewing the popcorn, eyes watching the TV intently. If you stared hard enough, you could see the subtle flush along his face.
The sound of moaning soon reached your ears and your skin started prickling with nervousness. The sex scenes should not affect you this way—even though it had been a long time since you had experienced an orgasm or someone had fucked you. In fact, you wanted one of those right now. Your stomach was coiling, hot and heavy, as you got hot and bothered from the scene. The actor's heavy panting rang clearly in your ears, causing your mind to think lewd thoughts. You shuffled and you were already uncomfortable under their gaze, your breathing coming out a little heavier than normal.
"You good there, Y/N?" The low, raspy voice of Mark entered your hearing. You cleared your throat and slowly nodded, unable to look into his eyes.
"I'm fine," you squeaked. There was a subtle nod of your head. Mark simply let it go as he kept his eyes in front and you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. With another attempt to look forward, the erotic visuals filled your eyes. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip when the loud groans vibrated throughout the room.
Oh how badly you wished one of them was kissing along the length of your neck, grazing the delicate skin with their teeth and leaving possessive marks on it. Your pulse picked up at the thought, heart pounding hard and fast against your chest as you could feel something pooling in the pit of your stomach.
Jaemin and Mark were surely doing no better.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mark subtly adjusting the semi-hard-on forming in his pants. He cursed softly under his breath, the neediness in his voice loud and clear and fuck, if that didn't get you dripping wetter. Jaemin was seemingly worse because you could actually see the tent in his sweats—it wasn't huge but it was just enough to know he was somewhat aroused by this scene. His bottom lip trapped between his teeth, dark eyes intensely focused on the film.
The moaning just increased from the actors. That sound plus the slick sounds of cock and pussy hitting each other was too much. God, you wanted them. They were so fucking handsome, perfect in every way and their ethereal voices made you quiver with want. The sensation between your legs was making the rational thoughts in your head start to dissipate and was clouded with the need to touch Mark, to kiss Mark, to touch Jaemin, to kiss Jaemin.
So, when one of the characters ended the sex scene by moaning the name of their partner loudly, you couldn't hold it anymore. You grabbed onto one of their sleeves and pulled. Mark and Jaemin broke from their lustrous state and they met your flushed and flustered state.
"Fuck me, please. Right now," your words were breathy, rushed and impatient as your chest rapidly heaved from the pent up frustration and arousal coursing through your body. Your knuckles tightened their grip on their shirt, pulling them closer to you as their brows twitched upwards with lust. "I need one of you, right now."
Without hesitation, Jaemin leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss while Mark maneuvered his face and mouth next to your ear to let his hot breath hit the delicate skin and whisper sinfully lewd and naughty thoughts into your ears. He began by nibbling your earlobe before planting soft kisses. Then he grazed along the shell with his tongue and the side of his mouth.
The kiss Jaemin and you were sharing was wild with just pure unadulterated lust. You slid your fingers into the hair at the base of his skull, lightly gripping it to bring him closer. Both of your heads shifted and tilted with each lick and bite. Occasionally your lips would detach for a few seconds so you could both catch your breaths. Mark turned your head towards him and captured your lips in his to break yours and Jaemin's connection. It was a warm embrace at first before Jaemin attached his wet and swollen lips onto your neck, licking and sucking with the utmost intent to mark.
Mark's and your kisses were sloppy, wet and rough. The nipping of your bottom lips, the suckling on your tongue and the slurring moans and groans echoed into the shared space of the hotel room. After what seemed to last an eternity, the three of you pulled apart and caught your breath.
"Y/N…" Mark spoke into your ear. Your name sent goosebumps all over your skin as his husky voice reverberated in your hearing. "Baby girl, you know this will change things between the three of us, right? It won't just stop at today."
The palm of his hand slid along your bare skin and it caused the hairs on your skin to stand. He had gotten underneath your t-shirt, thumbing the edge of your shorts, ready to dip it in. He needed some form of consent—as did Jaemin who stared deeply into your eyes, and sucked a red mark on the exposed skin above your t-shirt collar, rubbing soothing circles to calm your nerves.
This was what you wanted—to be touched, kissed, worshipped, by these two. Mark and Jaemin wouldn't do this unless you asked for it. And the thing is, you really did want this. To be touched by the both of them, their hands roaming all over, and giving you so much pleasure it was just enough for a whole week's worth of work.
You leaned back on Mark, head thrown over his shoulder to reach his waiting lips with yours. A hand tugged at Jaemin's neck so you could look straight at him when you agreed.
"I do... now do whatever the hell you want to me," you agreed, your voice barely a whisper.
"Wanna get your sweet and pretty little ass up on the bed and put on a show for us? We wanna see you play with that pretty pussy for us. Put those beautiful fingers inside that soaking and leaking cunt of yours," Jaemin whispered.
Fuck. That was hot.
You shuddered as you stood up and removed the clothes you were wearing. Then you slowly moved up onto the bed until you were propped on your elbows in the center, looking at Mark and Jaemin with a needy yet playful gaze.
"We want to watch you finger that sweet, juicy cunt. Please, baby," Jaemin requested in his usual honey tone. But it was different, lower, darker and raspier and holy shit if that didn't light the fire of horniness all over in you. You would say Mark and Jaemin could make the dirtiest things sound like pure heaven.
Hands tugging on the waistband of your panties, you slipped the small piece of clothing off in a painstakingly slow fashion. When that was done, your fingers ghosted on the outline of your mound, following your hand down, as the two men watched intensely. This continued until your digits swirled over your entrance and when it came across a pool of wetness that was spreading steadily and causing your thighs to clench.
Mark groaned loudly, a low, strangled sound, his eyes staring at you in such a way that made you feel utterly devoured. Your pussy tightened as your gaze found Jaemin as he drew his eyes away from the apex of your thighs to stare directly at you and God did you want them, so, so badly.
Mark and Jaemin crawled onto the bed until their presence loomed over your smaller figure.
"Sweetheart, please stick those pretty fingers inside your delicious and soaked pussy. The sooner the better," Mark muttered.
You listened to Mark and shoved your finger into you, your walls tightening immediately around the new feeling. There was a little groan escaping you, too—pure ecstasy. There was nothing more than being fingered and eaten out.
The moan encouraged the males and both started to divest themselves, losing their shirts, sweatpants and boxers, revealing their erect and proud cocks. Precum glistened on the red tip of their cocks, your eyes fixating on the two members and fuck you couldn't believe how lucky you were right now. You took in every last detail of them and damn, it only caused your arousal to become ten times better.
Jaemin smirked before speaking. "Put another finger inside that little tight cunt."
You complied with his words by adding in a second finger. A sinful mewl resounded in the quiet room.
Jaemin tutted. "What a naughty little girl, I bet I know what she's thinking of right now."
Mark paused, seeming to ponder before speaking. "Something like getting her mouth on our dicks. Don't you agree, Jaem? To have those plump lips stretched to their limit and moaning as she tastes us on her tongue. Having both of us choke her with our cocks."
There was a purr of approval and an adorable hum. "Mmh, she'd look so cute too."
Fuck.
This time Jaemin was the one groaning, as both watched you moving your fingers in and out of your hole, your wet and glistening juices practically coating every part of your lower lips. The slide of your fingers in and out was delicious, but it would feel even better when Mark's and Jaemin's dicks would enter you instead. Your nipples tingled as they grew taut and stiff while a needy ache pulsated with growing heat and force.
It was arousing.
It was hot.
And so damn alluring.
"Such a needy little girl," Mark commented and both Jaemin and him now gripped their cocks.
The sight of their leaking and dripping dicks triggered something in you, you could feel yourself dripping as your insides clenched around the two fingers inserted inside and out. But God, were they still not enough. Your thumb moved over to your swollen clit. That bundle of nerves finally got the attention it deserved and you were crying and releasing a low and loud mewl as waves of pleasure vibrated from inside. It was good, very good.
But it still wasn't enough.
No. You wanted more.
"Fuck. That's not—fuck—enough," your voice strained at the end of your sentence as you were heavily panting.
"Tell us what you want," Jaemin stated low and huskily, "Baby, we'll give it to you if you just tell us."
"Your mouths and fingers—" you rasped, gasping between every word, "in…in me."
Mark cooed softly and reached over to cup your cheek with a rough palm. The contact alone made you melt in bliss.
"We can do that baby," Mark pressed his lips briefly to your lips before moving back. "How about Jaemin eats you out while I fill this pretty little mouth of yours with my cock and give you what you desire?"
Your cunt throbbed hard at the mention. That's exactly what you wanted. You removed your fingers and whined softly as that gaping and emptiness could be felt. Mark crawled up to your face with a knowing smile, brushing the pads of his thumbs over your cheeks. He positioned himself over your mouth until his hardened cock was directly over your lips, dripping down precum.
Without delay, you licked it up. The salty flavor and the heavy weight in your mouth made you suckle hard and you gained an animalistic groan from above you. While you tended to Mark, you felt a tongue against your slit as your taste filled his mouth. Jaemin wasted no time in deep-thrusting his tongue past the folds to plunge into your core and groaning at the slick mess already drenching you. His eagerness, and hot tongue massaging against your entrance and folds made you shake, sucking on Mark's cock faster.
Jaemin's hands spread your legs a little wider, your thighs flexing hard and you tried to keep them that way. Your body jerked and jolted every time his lips would lap against your sensitive bud, rolling your hard clit against your teeth. Mark continued to thrust his hips shallowly, unable to keep from fully fucking into the soft and wet depths of your hot mouth.
"You're so good for us, aren't you Y/N?" Mark praised, running a gentle hand through your hair and grinning when he felt your eyes open to look up at him through your eyelashes. "Take every inch, you pretty thing. Stay like that. Take all of me."
Your mouth continued to service him until your gaze rose up and looked at Mark above your frame.
Oh fuck! He looked ethereal—that beautiful, handsome and well-built body covered with a sheen layer of sweat. His throat bobbing from the moans. Those lean yet muscular arms stretched over you, firm and lean. Oh how badly you want to feel that skin. Your whole body is ignited by every touch of those muscular palms. It drove you mad, the scent of his arousal strong.
His lips slightly parted and his jaw muscles straining with restraint, "Fuck. Fuck, Y/N. Y-your mouth."
Without warning, Mark snapped his hips and pushed his full length in, the abrupt action having you gag and wince. His apology fell on deaf ears as you enjoyed the cock stuffed inside your mouth, throbbing on your tongue. Jaemin followed suit as you bucked your hips a little harshly into his mouth, grinding your pussy into him as fast as you could. Your desperation increased as your eyes caught the vision of Jaemin's perfect form between your thighs, his dark head of hair bouncing up and down. Jaemin removed his mouth momentarily, his saliva mixed with your wetness being lapped up. He hummed. "Holy fuck, sweetness. Your pussy tastes so divine. I can't get enough."
Jaemin placed his thick and hot tongue back onto your clit, swirling the muscle against that nerve ending and sucking simultaneously while two fingers roughly slid into you and pumped into a rhythm.
You were reaching a point of oversensitivity, body wrecked under the actions of both Mark and Jaemin, leaving you trembling with carnality.
"So fucking wet. Baby is squeezing my fingers so tight. Will she squeeze around my dick next time?" Jaemin commented while smirking and taking another look at your pussy. He placed a final kiss on your clit before pulling out and planting another onto the fluttering folds and sat back on his heels, as his attention turned towards Mark who was in the same state. Both nodded and removed themselves.
Mark moved over to take Jaemin's spot, his face gliding over the exposed skin of your sides with kisses, until he arrived at your heat. Mark took some seconds to admire the delicious mess which is between your thighs, your swollen lips all dripping in juices. You let out a piteous and faint noise, your neglected cunt flexing over thin air and gifting him with a burst of wetness.
"Mark, please," your voice was barely recognizable even to your own ears, having lost count of how many times you pleaded. Mark just quirked a dark brow at you.
"Let me taste you a bit first and then you can have my dick," And then his tongue sunk inside, licking up any moisture accumulated. You clawed the bed sheets under the sheer sensation of the heat pooling, curling and breaking your body apart like a bomb. Fingers returned to your pussy, turning every single movement and motion agonizingly intense.
Fucking intense.
"Please," you wail as your hands dart through his hair, "fuck. Stop teasing. Want your cock. In my pussy. Now, please, now, please, Mark. Please."
"And me, sweet pea?" Jaemin husked at the last syllables before fluttering his long lashes up and down.
"Please. Wanna cum. With both of you." Your voice hitches an octave higher and breathier by the end of the request.
"Anything for our girl," Mark says calmly as he moved away from you.
Jaemin was lying on the mattress, as you crawled your way up him before sinking down, the both of you relishing the feeling. His cock pulsed into your needy and drenched core, the way the plump head spread through your walls.
He then bottomed out, the smooth motion filling you full, full, full. It was a stretch and you loved it. Jaemin, a handsome angel and the epitome of the dream guy everyone could and should ever dream of was buried deep within you.
"Shit, baby. Can you feel my cock, stuffing you up and getting you all wet inside? Fuck. This pretty pussy can't handle this big cock, can you?" Jaemin growled lustfully. "Do you want Mark to fuck your tight ass, baby? Bet that little asshole of yours would stretch so wide. So fucking perfectly."
"Yes," you practically sobbed, the vision only spurring on the all consuming urgency surging through your nerves. "Yes, I need you and Mark to stuff me full…so damn full. Please."
Mark smirked and produced a bottle of lube he picked up from somewhere, before pouring a generous amount over his fingers and dick. After slicking it up, his fingers travelled to your hole, tracing the sensitive entrance before stretching it with his fingers and loosening it until it relaxed. When he noticed your squirming and pleading for his cock to go in, that was when Mark began sinking his hard member in until there was nothing left but his hip and your ass.
The feel of his dick spreading open your inner walls and burying deeply sent shudders through your whole being. The sensation of your holes stretching at both ends made your chest heave.
"Shit," both Mark and Jaemin ground out, coming down from the immediate wave of pure bliss enveloping the three of you.
For a moment they let you adjust, until the buildup of desire in all three of you started to become too much to bear. When they noticed the whimpering noises, they immediately picked up the pace, Mark and Jaemin rolling their hips and snapping in an irregular rhythm.
The both of them were talking now, filthy, lude praises, lewd moans, dirty whispers and naughty nothings in between grunts and sighs and praise. You heard snippets like how gorgeous and perfect you are. How well you are doing. How much of a fucking beautiful kitten and how perfect you look being taken by them. Both dicks deep and pumping hard, the gliding motion pulling frictionless strokes.
"What a perfect pussy and what a sexy little ass. Gonna ruin both and make sure you can't ever think or walk normally. Gonna make you ours," Jaemin grinded hard.
"Feels so good...you both feel so fucking good," was the response he got from you, accompanied by mewls. "Fu-ck. Shit. Please. Harder."
"How does Mark feel, baby?" Jaemin coos softly, petting your hair slightly as if rewarding a good kitty.
"Good," you sighed, "good, he's really filling me and stretching me."
Mark's groans grew more heated at the confirmation, snapping his hips and pelvis. He leaned in and grunted more erotic words. "You're taking us so well, baby. You're gonna be walking crooked and sore after we're done with you."
"We need her to know we're never letting her go," Jaemin mused.
Your high-pitched screams reverberated off the walls, bouncing into Mark and Jaemin's ear, causing them to chuckle. Your eyes closed to concentrate on the way Mark and Jaemin could command a good and nice pace.
It was intense and erotic.
It was messy and hot.
It was unravelling.
It was sheer pleasure.
You were being consumed whole.
"Baby, your moans," Mark stated breathily. "Such sweet, heavenly and pleasing noises. And that's coming from us. From two cocks filling both of those delicious holes."
"Be louder," Jaemin suggests. "Scream for us louder. Let the rest of the members know who's making you feel this good. That you're only ours."
You squeaked as Mark brushed your hair gently to the side so that he could kiss the nape of your neck and collarbone. His touches were electric as his palm rubbed and squeezed the swell of your breasts and caressed your body sensually. He switched it up occasionally, applying light kitty licks and bites and harsh sucks, taking note of your sweet noises and what parts of you brought forth that sort of reaction. You squirmed against the sheets, one hand gripping the cotton of your pillow tightly, the other draped on Jaemin's bicep.
"Fuck," you whimper as they kept pumping mercilessly, pleasure unfurling and rolling inside you, unfocused with nowhere to go. "Shit. Fuck."
"Tell us what you want Y/N," It was a low rumble coming from Jaemin. "Just say it."
"I—I wanna cum," you whimpered.
"We want that too, baby," Mark mumbles right into your ear. His breathing sounds jagged. You're pretty sure you weren't the only one going out of your mind with anticipation. "Cum for us, baby."
"Y-yes. A-ah…ha…" You whine, choking up a throaty scream as the loud squelch echoed along the room in the rhythm of the pounding, joined by a deep grunt here and there from Jaemin and Mark. "M-Mark, please...Jaem...J-just."
"That's a good girl," Mark states as his palms massage the curves and dips of your body as Jaemin takes turns running his teeth and lips against the side of your neck and over your delicate shoulder, rough and passionate.
"Take every inch, beautiful. We'll leave you satiated and stuffed full. Mark is gonna fill your tight ass full of cum, whilst I cum deep inside your lovely pussy," Jaemin huskily added, voice dark and coarse.
You groaned, keenly aware of how full and hard they are inside of you. Oh how badly you wanted the boys to reach their peaks. How you wished Mark and Jaemin's powerful bodies would shudder and convulse as euphoric pleasure ripped through. How badly you wanted Mark and Jaemin's expressions twisted into sweet bliss and then dissolved in ecstasy.
"That's it, baby. We're right here," Mark soothed, voice dripping with affection and fondness, "Take all the pleasure you can get."
"Oh, shit. So good. Yes. Shit!" you finally reach your limit and tip over the edge, gushing and convulsing with a loud drawn-out whimper.
Both Mark and Jaemin fuck you right through it, milking both orgasms. They only lasted a few minutes longer, finally spilling and letting ropes of cum paint and coat your insides. Mark groaned from above you, a sound so sexual and captivating and Jaemin stifled a moan in the crook of your neck. They kept their cocks for a minute and came down from their respective highs before withdrawing from both stretched holes. Cum dribbled down your lower lips, pooling the bed sheets.
There was a silence before Jaemin and Mark cuddled closer to you from each side, the both of them panting heavily until the room was filled with deep inhales and exhales.
"Can…we do that again?" You manage to voice, surprising Jaemin and Mark with the bold statement.
They responded by bursting into soft chuckles. Jaemin made a noise. "That's asking a bit too soon, isn't it princess?"
"No…like, during your tours, when we go back home. In your free time. I-If it's not inconvenient with schedules, of course," you rush out.
Mark raised his brows. "Are you sure, Y/N?"
"Uh, y-yeah," you gulp a breath. "I really enjoyed this. But only if you want to as well."
"Believe me princess," Jaemin purred softly. "We love being with you as much as you love being with us."
"Of course we would like to. Our place is with you no matter what," Mark interjects, his soft hands smoothing down your messy and sweaty hair before slipping an arm around you and pulling you against his warmth. The affection made you blush even more. Mark nudges his nose and kisses the top of your head. “Besides, I did say this was going to change between the three of us right? That this won't stop at today.”
"Who would have thought that I'd fuck my best friends," you breathe out, staring at the ceiling in complete bliss.
"We should have done this a long time ago. Next time we do this again, let's bring Jeno with us," Jaemin admits cheekily, the utter statement catching you by surprise.
You slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir. How bold."
Mark laughed. "I don't think I want to share Y/N with the others, Jaemin. Only us two are enough for this lovely lady."
"Ah, I'm kidding," Jaemin winks before tilting his head. "Mostly." He wags his brows playfully, making you groan and hit him lightly. Jaemin grinned before dragging your palm and placing a kiss on the inside of it. "Relax baby, you have our hearts wrapped around your finger."
Mark hummed in agreement and buried his face into the crook of your neck and placed a tender, heartfelt kiss and patted your thighs. He mumbles sleepily into your ear and you hear Jaemin repeating the gesture, the two voices simultaneously filling your eardrums. "We're yours, and you are ours. I'm sure this is going to be the start of something new and good. Don't worry."
You relaxed, letting their breathing and the warmth of their skin lull you to a peaceful sleep, right alongside them and in their arms.
#nct#nct dream#nct stories#nct imagines#nct fanfic#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct mark#nct jaemin#mark lee#mark#mark x reader#mark smut#na jaemin#jaemin smut#jaemin#jaemin x reader
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The LaDs Men healing your inner child...
...they accidentally evoke your insecurities and comfort you.
❧ Part III - Zayne - Healing Hearts
Pairing: Zayne x You Synopsis: You pretend to be fine when Zayne is called back to work on his day off. Word count: 901 Tags: workaholic zayne, disappointment, neglect, romance, fluff, comfort Side notes: Wow, are we already at Part III? Zayne's story is actually the reason why I created a mini-series instead of posting all four stories at once. It simply got too long, and I had to rewrite the other stories to match their length. In this part, we address the theme of rejection and neglect, but luckily, we have Zayne to help us realize that our feelings matter. Part I - Xavier ❧ Part II - Rafayel ❧ Part IV Sylus
Beep-Beeeep.
A sharp sound cuts through the peaceful moment as you lie on the couch with Zayne. Still exhausted from yesterday's mission, your head rests on his lap, and you're about to fall asleep halfway through the movie while his fingers softly stroke your hair.
He carefully leans forward to reach for his pager on the coffee table while you rub your sleepy eyes. Noticing Zayne's serious expression you slowly sit up next to him. ''What's wrong? An emergency at the hospital?''
Zayne nods as he stares at the pager, reading the message from Akso Hospital. Today was his day off, and he promised to spend it with you. He takes a deep breath and sighs, sliding the pager into his pocket while he shifts his worried gaze to you. He hates himself for asking you this. ''MC, do you mind if we reschedule our movie date?''
You swallow as your heart drops at his words. You saw that coming.
More people are falling ill since the days grow shorter and the nights become colder. Even doctors and nurses aren't spared, which leads to a shortage at the hospital. Zayne had already told you that he was on call, but you had hoped he wouldn't be needed.
''No, it's fine. I think I'm too tired for a movie marathon anyway.'' You reply with a forced smile, even though you feel like crying. You haven't had time for each other in weeks, but you know how important his patients are to him. Putting your needs aside is something you're used to, and you don't want to be a burden by asking him to stay. Instead, you nod heavily as you stand up from the couch, pretending to be alright. ''Let's go, Zayne.''
The young doctor watches you intently for a moment before responding, his eyes following your movements as you walk over to the coat rack to grab your jacket. He knows you too well and can clearly see the disappointment behind your feigned bright expression.
He wishes he could silence the pager and dismiss it, but the oath he's sworn holds him to his duty. So he clears his throat and keeps a straight face, even though it’s breaking him inside to walk away from you.
''Alright. I’ll drop you off on the way.''
Zayne's attentive eyes are focused on your profile while the motor of his vehicle purrs softly. It's been the only sound since you left his apartment and your silence couldn't be louder to him.
When the signal turns green again, he reluctantly takes his gaze back to the road, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as he tries to figure out how to get to you.
Beep-Beeeep.
The sigh that escapes your lips as his Pager goes off for the second time today is not missed by him.
''I apologize that we have to postpone our date. I didn't expect it to end like this.'' You hear Zayne's calm voice as he tries to reach you, hoping for a response. You shift in the passenger seat, staring out the window, not really focusing on anything. Another faint smile appears on your face as you turn to him, wondering whether you should tell him the truth: That you feel rejected and disappointed. That you miss him and want to be with him.
But there is this numbing feeling that you might come off as too needy, as someone who clings and is just too much to handle. ''It's okay; don't worry too much about it, Doctor Zayne. We can always meet again on your next free day.'' You say as you stop in front of your apartment building.
Without waiting for his response, you get out of Zayne's car and close the door a bit harder than you intended. You know it's not his fault and that he didn't intentionally let you down. Yet a crippling feeling of neglect washes over you as you retreat from his sight. Completely unaware of his longing gaze upon you as the engine starts again.
Later that day, you have already resigned yourself to spending the evening alone when you suddenly hear your phone vibrate on your desk. Your heart skips a beat as you see Zayne's name on the display:
''I'm taking the day off tomorrow to compensate for today and bought two tickets for a movie tonight. Would you like to accompany me? I'm waiting downstairs.''
You rush out of your apartment as fast as you can, still in disbelief that he is actually here. Zayne is leaning against his car, and a smile spreads across his handsome face as he sees you running towards him, jumping straight into the arms of your beloved. He chuckles softly as you bury your face in his chest before looking up at him.
''Zayne, about earlier... I'm so sorry for how I acted I-'' Your words are interrupted as gentle, green eyes stare back at you while he slowly shakes his head. ''No. You don't have to act strong all the time.''
You feel his arms loosen around you, and just as you start to panic, his warm hands gently wrap around your trembling fingers. ''It's alright to feel disappointed when things don't go your way. All you have to do is tell me how you feel and promise to be honest. I will accept you, no matter which side you show.''
Thank you for reading! Cherry 🍒 Updated Nov. 20th: Added links to the other parts + fixed formatting.
#writercheri 🍒#cherimoyatea🍒#love and deepspace#love and deep space#love & deepspace#lads#l&ds#love and deepspace zayne#zayne love and deepspace#lads zayne#zayne l&ds#love and deepspace fic#zayne x reader#zayne x mc#zayne lads#zayne x you#love and deepspace fanfiction#love and deepspace fanfic#lads fanfiction#lads fic#l&ds fic#l&ds fanfiction#love and deepspace x you#writers on tumblr
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There are so many places in the Villeneuve Dune adaptations where he just...takes all the narrative pieces that Frank Herbert laid out and subtly rearranges them into something that tells the story better--that creates dramatic tension where you need it, communicates the themes and message of the book more clearly, or corrects something in the text that contradicts or undermines what Herbert said he was trying to say.
The fedaykin are probably my favorite example of this. I just re-read a little part of the book and got smacked in the face with how different they are.
(under the cut for book spoilers and length)
The fedaykin in the book are Paul's personal followers, sort of his personal guard. They show up after his legend has already started growing (the word doesn't appear in the book until chapter 40) and they are people who have specifically dedicated themselves to fighting for him, and right from the moment they're introduced there is a kind of implied fanaticism to their militancy that's a bit uncomfortable to read. They're the most ardent believers in Paul's messianic status and willing to die for him. (They are also, as far as you can tell from the text, all men.)
In the book, as far as I can remember (I could be forgetting some small detail but I don't think so) there is no mention of armed resistance to colonialism on Arrakis before Paul shows up. As far as we know, he created it. ETA: Okay I actually went back and checked on this and while we hear about the Fremen being "a thorn in the side" of the Harkonnens and we know that they are good fighters, we don't see anything other than possibly one bit of industrial sabotage. The book is very clear that the organized military force we see in the second half was armed and trained by Paul. This is exacerbated by the two-year time jump in the book, which means we never see how Paul goes from being a newly deposed ex-colonial overlord running for his life to someone who has his own private militia of people ready to give their lives for him.
The movie completely flips all these dynamics on their head in ways that add up to a radical change in meaning.
The fedaykin in the movie are an already-existing guerrilla resistance movement on Arrakis that formed long before Paul showed up. Literally the first thing we learn about the Fremen, less that two minutes into the first movie, is that they are fighting back against the colonization and exploitation of their home and have been for decades.
The movie fedaykin also start out being the most skeptical of the prophecy about Paul, which is a great choice from both a political and a character standpoint. Of course they're skeptical. If you're part of a small guerrilla force repeatedly going up against a much bigger and stronger imperial army...you have to believe in your own agency. You have to believe that it is possible to win, and that this tiny little chip in the armor of a giant terrifying military machine that you are making right now will make a difference in the end. These are the people who are directly on the front lines of resisting oppression. They are doing it with their own sweat, blood and ingenuity, and they are not about to wait around for some messiah who may never come.
From a character standpoint, this is really the best possible environment you could put Paul Atreides in if you want to keep him humble. He doesn't get any automatic respect handed to him due to title or birthright or religious belief. He has to prove himself--not as any kind of savior but as a good fighter and a reliable member of a collective political project. And he does. This is an environment that really draws out his best qualities. He's a skilled fighter; he's brave (sometimes recklessly so); he's intensely loyal to and protective of people he cares about. He is not too proud to learn from others and work hard in an egalitarian environment where he gets no special treatment or extra glory. The longer he spends with the fedaykin the more his allegiance shifts from Atreides to Fremen, and the more skeptical he himself becomes about the prophecy. This sets up the conflict with Jessica, which comes to a head before she leaves for the south. And his political sincerity--that he genuinely comes to believe that these people deserve liberation from all colonial forces and his only role should be to help where he can--is what makes the tragedy work. Because in the end we know he will betray all these values and become the exact thing he said he didn't want to be.
There's another layer of meaning to all this that I don't know if the filmmakers were even aware of. ETA: rescinding my doubt cause based on some of Villeneuve's other projects I'm pretty sure he could work it out. Given the time period (1960s) and Herbert's propensity for using Arabic or Arabic-inspired words for aspects of Fremen culture, it seems very likely that the made-up word fedaykin was taken from fedayeen, a real Arabic word that was frequently used untranslated in American news media at the time, usually to refer to Palestinian armed resistance groups.
Fedayeen is usually translated into English as fighter, guerrilla, militant or something similar. The translation of fedaykin that Herbert provides in Dune is "death commando"...which is a whole bucket of yikes in my opinion, but it's not entirely absurd if we're assuming that this fake word and the real word fedayeen function in the same way. A more literal translation of fedayeen is "self-sacrificer," as in willing, intentional self-sacrifice for a political cause, up to and including sacrificing your life.
If you apply this logic to Dune, it means that Villeneuve has actually shifted the meaning of this word in-universe, from fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for Paul to fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their people. And the fedaykin are no longer a group created for Paul but a group that Paul counts himself as part of, one member among equals. Which is just WILDLY different from what's in the book. And so much better in my opinion.
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how much did you hear? chris sturniolo x femreader
SUMMARY :chris and nick think you're fast asleep on the couch after watching a movie and chris confesses he's in love with you.
You feel your boyfriend pull the blanket down and over your feet as you feel his weight shift from the sofa, his thighs you'd had your feet tucked under now replaced by the blanket and the absence of his arm across the length of your leg as his hand had been resting at your hip. You had fallen asleep, for sure, and you could hear the soft sound of some music playing on the TV rather than the movie you had just been watching, but you were too tired to even stir, so you allowed yourself to fall back into a soft slumber. You could hear brief sounds around you, but you knew sleep would come over you again soon.
Chris had been your boyfriend for the last 6 months, and you had never felt anything like what you did for Chris with anyone else. You were nervous at first, knowing Chris had voiced his fear of relationships in the past, but it had progressed much quicker than either of you had anticipated. You were each others shadow, and if you weren't together you were sending each other randoms messages, letting the other know you could wait to see them again, or that you were you simply thinking of the other. It was wholesome, that was the best way you could describe it. On this particular day, you were both so tired and wanted nothing more than to be in each other presence. Both being tired from working and some other social events that had left both your social batteries a little drained and your bodies a little sleep deprived, so a movie on the sofa had been the perfect idea. Matt and Nick had also joined, but at some point Matt had gone to his room and the chuckle you just heard from Nick confirmed he had stayed for the duration. In your light sleep, you heard both Chris and Nick enter the kitchen just behind you, and the general clatter of them moving around, grabbing drinks and more snacks, no doubt getting ready to turn on their consoles and play something together whilst you slept, which only made you nuzzle your head into the cushion you were lay on even further, feeling less guilty for falling asleep instead of spending time with your boyfriend and his brothers. But just as you were about to doze off, you heard Nicks voice. Soft, so not to wake you, but unaware you were only lightly falling asleep.
"I love that Y/N feels comfortable enough to just come over and sleep like this, with all of us in the room." You smile at Nicks words, eyes still closed, glad that he had noticed that not only had Chris become a comfort for you, so had Nick and Matt. "She loves you guys." Chris speaks. "Good. Cause we love her." Nick says. There's silence, and you open your eyes slightly. You were facing the TV and didn't want to draw attention to the fact you were awake, but suddenly you wanted to hear in. You had sometimes felt a burden to the three triplets since becoming Chris' girlfriend. He spent less time alone with them these days and you were afraid Nick and Matt resented you for that, so to hear they didn't could only make your heart sing. But your heart stopped singing, and suddenly it was dancing out of your chest when you heard Chris speak next. "Nick, can I tell you something?" he said, and he almost sounded scared. Anxious. Like he wasn't sure how to get his words out. There was silence from his brother and you had wipe your tongue across your teeth, suddenly feeling your mouth go dry. "What?" Nick said. Silence again, but you strained your ears to listen. "I'm in love with her." Your eyes were wide. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You had an inkling over the last few weeks that Chris was going to tell you he loved you. The way he looked at you sometimes when you were sat in silence. The way he had started lingering around your mouth after a kiss, like he wanted to say something. The way he said your name to get your attention and when you asked what was wrong, he would smile and say nothing and go back to what he was doing. It was giving your butterflies every time, and there were times you had almost said it for him, because you too loved him. So much. "I know." you hear Nick say, and you have to stifle a laugh so they don't know you're awake. "You know?!" Chris speaks now, and theres a pitch to his voice. "Chris, the whole world probably knows. It's so obvious" Nick says again. "Have you told her?" "No" Chris sighs. "So tell her."
You were itching to sit up. You wanted him to tell you, so badly. And you wanted to tell him back. But something about telling him in front of his brother didn't feel right. "What if she doesn't say it back, bro?" You practically hear the eyeroll Nick gives him. "I promise you, she will." Theres silence again. And you can hear them opening cupboard doors once more, the conversation now turning to something completely different, and you don't know how you're going to pretend to be asleep when they come back. You felt hot, the overwhelming feeling to rip the blanket from your skin was overpowering and you wondered if you could get away with acting like you had only just risen, when announced he needed the bathroom. "I'll be 2 minutes, get the game ready." Your heart starting hammering again as your heard Nick run upstairs to his bathroom, closing your eyes quickly knowing he would have to pass you as he did so, but you opened them again once you heard his footsteps disappear. But then the moment you opened your eyes, you heard your boyfriends footsteps come closer, and you knew it was too late. Your eyes locked. He stopped in his tracks. Can of Pepsi in hand and a bowl of chips in the other. You smiled, and the blush appeared on his cheeks immediately. "How long have you been awake?" he asks, leaning forward to put his drink and snack on the table, before standing back upright and not moving another inch. "A while." you say, but it's almost a whisper. "Did you -" he stops and ruffles his hair. "How much did you hear?" He knew. He knew you'd heard him. You smile again, and finally sit yourself up. You know he's not going to move, the blush on his face is proof enough he feels nervous. Or embarrassed. Maybe both. So you push the blanket off of your body and stand yourself up. He takes in your body. One of his black hoodies and shorts, and when he reaches your eyes he finally lets out a breath of air. You chuckle. You hold out your hand as you walk to him and when he you finally reach him, he grabs hold of it tightly. "I'll say it back." you whisper. You hear Nick open the door to his bathroom from upstairs. He's singing the words to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter, and suddenly Chris relaxes, a small chuckle escaping his lips. It was now, or it would hang over us. "I love you." You stare at him for a second, before letting go of his hand and warping your arms around his neck. His arms immediately come around your waist and he pulls you closer, his nose grazing against your neck. "I love you too, Chris. So much." He lets out a chuckle before you pull away and look at other other, your arms still around his neck and his still around your waist, and he leans forward to plant a kiss on your lips. "I wanted to tell you so long ago." he whispers now, the sound of Nicks footsteps finally coming down the stairs. You knew he was only seconds away from walking in on you both, but if Chris wasn't moving, neither were you. "Me too. Me too." you smile, and you lean froward and kiss him again. You both let out a chuckle into each others lips as you hear Nicks footsteps come to abrupt stop. You remove your lips from his to look over his shoulder, and Chris turns his head in the same direction, both still wrapped together. "Did you tell her?" Nick says, an excited look on his face as he looks between you both. "Tell me what?" you say, playing dumb as you look at the side of your boyfriends face just in time to see him roll his eyes before turning to face you. "Shut up," he whispers, before planting another kiss on your lips, pulling away and pushing you backward slightly so he can grab hold of your hand to walk you back over to the couch. "I'll take that as a yes, shall I?" you hear Nick say, and you turn around and give him a smile.
You spend the rest of the night with your legs draped over Chris', your hands twirling around in his hair as you peacefully watch him playing his games with Nick, turning round and giving you the occasional kiss when he had a spare second he didn't need to concentrate. And when you get into bed that night, Chris' arms holing you tightly into his chest, it's the first night of many more he whispers I love you before you fall to sleep.
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets
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