#Warm up for Illusion

[dijidweeeb]

Guns N Roses, Warm up for Illusion (2015) Live at the Ritz

[star-stages]

happi

[heikeee]

little sesshomaru redraw

[enderspawn]

slides bizly 20 dollars make the tattoos blue flames Please

[star--anon]

hm

during earlier days of Safe Haven, Minho would run until his legs collapsed and his lungs screamed for air, until he was miles and miles away from Paradise

and then he'd lay there on the forest floor, watching the Sun inch its way across the sky,

and wonder if it was all just another game from WCKD.

On happier days, the Sun was warm and the Haven felt like home and Thomas pulled him to the beach and Brenda threw sand at him and Frypan wasn't so busy with cooking lessons and Gally bothered to put down the blueprints. And it felt like the Glade. One that wasn't riddled with Grievers and crushing walls. And then Minho feared that he would lose it all

On other days, Alby wasn't there to enjoy the Sun (because he loved it on his back while he worked) and Chuck wasn't there to watch and laugh as Frypan hopelessly taught Thomas how to fish... and Minho knew Newt would never sit around the Fire and eat dinner with them again.

on those days, Minho closed his eyes and prayed that he'd wake up in WCKD again. Torture him, break him, just let his friends still be alive and safe and happy.

Please?

[willowfey]

idk what’s been happening but lately no matter what time i fall asleep, i wake up abruptly between 8:30-9 full of anxiety and extremely sore and remembering vivid unsettling dreams. and no matter how tired i still am i cannot fall back to sleep and the anxiety only starts to lessen when i get out of bed, even if i get back in it and feel fine after washing my face or smth, i have to Get Out of the bed to break it.

[fingertipsmp3]

I’ve got this really weird brand of claustrophobia that I’m not even sure is actual claustrophobia. Basically you can put me in any confined space, it’s fine, I’m okay, even if I have to scrunch up my stupidly long body to fit. But if there’s no air flow? I’ll panic and faint

[nochepsicodelica]

Perv Toji thoughts in the brain 😔 Fed you guys the fluffy pieces, now i'm thinking of the little weirdo in him.

Suggestive

Perv!Toji who slips his thumb past your lips when you start drooling after falling asleep on him. He wipes the drool that seeped out of the corner of your mouth before gently pushing down on the plush of your bottom lip and easing the digit into your slightly parted lips. His eyes remain lidded as he feels your soft, wet tongue with the pad of his thumb, and when you start to stir, he coos at you, soft murmurs of, "sleepy princess" and "I got you, baby". He's got the most satisfied look on his face when you don't question why his thumb is in your mouth, too tired to even bother.

Perv!Toji who cancels his gym membership and starts working out at home, because you said you wanted to join him in his workouts. He could never say no to something like that. This is just something else you can do together, but it'll have to be an at home thing, because he can't have people ogling you the way he does when he puts you to work. He won't make you do his exact intense routine, but he does push you to the point where you break a sweat. It's a must. He slowly walks around you, observing his favorite parts of your body as you do the warm ups he instructed you to do. Jumping jacks are one of his favorite things to watch you do. He likes watching your boobs and ass bounce, and because it's not just a simple set of ten or fifteen, you end up panting, a sound that sends his blood rushing down, down, down. When you get tired, he does the parts of his routine that he exempts you from. He has you sit on his lap while he does bench presses, he does his pushups, but he wants you wrapped around him as he does them, and so on. Everything is skin to skin because he's not gonna have you just sit there and watch when you have a better purpose.

Perv!Toji who can't hold consistent eye contact with you when you go braless and your nipples are poking through your shirt. He understands, from the many times you've said it out loud, that not all bras are comfortable. The prettiest ones, some of his favorites even, are usually the least comfortable to wear. They're a courtesy to the rest of the world, but when you're walking around at home, you free your chest from those constraints and he has absolutely no complaints about it. "Free those puppies" is a recurring line of his, and when you do get the bra off, your boobs instantly attract his attention, like they're magnets to his eyes. Sometimes his intrusive thoughts win and he'll reach out and grab a handful of tit. He's definitely not shy about it, either. He knows his hands are better than any bra you own. He can hold onto your tits and never get tired, he offers great support for your back when he's behind you, and massages are included <3

Perv!Toji who has the weirdest obsession with your tummy. He's constantly rubbing and pinching the soft flesh as a form of stress relief. The area is never clear of hickeys, there always has to be at least three on that part of you because he can't be gentle when he's kissing that area. I don't know, he's just internally feral about it and sometimes those feral feelings start to trickle out. Loves when you eat a good amount of food and you get a little belly. He's constantly thinking of putting a baby in you, so when your stomach protrudes that way with a food baby, it gives him the illusion of what you would look like in the early stages of carrying his baby.

That's all for now, buh-bye <3

[gfguren]

was suddenly struck with such a vivid image of katsuki—a little older, a little softer around the edges, a little bit in love, maybe—and it shows. everyone can tell, really, can see the hearts in his eyes, clear as day over the dinner table. they're all a little tipsy, even katsuki who rarely indulges, especially not in cheap appetizers and even cheaper liquor.

it was supposed to be a boys' night—denki, and deku, and kirishima; a rare break in their busy schedules to catch up with one another. instead katsuki's nose is buried in his messenger, tuned out completely as if his friends aren't there at all.

and they know, without a shadow of doubt, that it's you. and that you're good for him. can see the way he's mellowed over time, sweetened like fruit that refused to grow ripe. thick skinned, and bitter—but you're patient with him, always, kind even when he doesn't always deserve it. more importantly, katsuki is really, truly head over heels in love with you, and his friends know that better than anyone; (maybe even katsuki himself). which is why they let him get away with not being a boys' boy just for the night.

he thinks he's so sneaky about it too, chin propped up on one, lazy hand, manspread in the dining chair with his phone resting at his thigh—the perfect illusion of nonchalance, until it isn't. there's a brief respite in his expression, sun peaking through the storm clouds and beaming straight across the table. his shoulders unwind, brow softens; there's a hushed 'ding!' and his strawberry eyes drip golden honey.

you haven't said much at all. nothing shocking, or particularly sweet. it's the same text you've sent him every night for months now. a simple goodnight, an honest i love you. but the corners of katsuki's lips flicker like warm candlelight until he breaks into a grin.

a snicker erupts from across the table, and when he (finally) looks up he finds kirishima there, hand slapped over his mouth and one of deku's elbows shoved between his ribs.

"hey bakugou," denki calls from the kitchen, breaks whatever boy code the three of them agreed upon behind katsuki's back. "tell y/n I said hi!~"

heat rushes to katsuki's face in an instant. like clockwork, he flips his phone face-down, a scoff on his tongue as he folds his arms across his chest. he wants to be mad, honestly, has half a mind to reach across the table and chuck the bowl of cheese puffs at his head,

—but he can't shake the smile that's taken residence in his cheeks. a laugh, deep and boyish, and happy catches in his throat.

"shut the hell up, dumbass."

[not-neverland06]

I don't know why I bite

Logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: Had Mitski’s ‘I Bet on Losing Dogs’ on a loop while writing this, now I’m sad Inspired by the isle of dogs quote “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” BECAUSE OUCH (they’re both toxic, fair warning) bittersweet ending Summary: You've tried for so long to get Logan to accept you the way he does the others. You want so desperately to be someone who means something to him. But he doesn't want you, maybe he never has. And you both seem to be stuck in this loop of hurting each other.

You’re stability, security, but you’re never comfort. Try as you might, you just can’t get Logan to accept you. You want to. So desperately, you want to be something good for him. But he hates you, or at the very least, he can’t stand you. 

You don’t know what it is about Jean that he craves, but you wish you could replicate it. You’re not your friend, though, you never will be. And it’s pathetic, trying to change yourself to make someone else happy. You’ve never done that before. Yet, there is something about Logan that you want so desperately to help. 

You clean his wounds, metaphorically because he’s never once needed anyone for that. You lift him up after a rough mission and you remind him that the team does need him. They do love him. They want him in that uniform beside them, even Scott. 

You have your suspicions that he doesn’t appreciate your efforts. He’s never outright said anything to you. But you can tell the novelty of your kindness is wearing off. He used to brush your efforts off with a simple look. 

But he’s begun to be mean, saying these little things that you can never completely call out. A lot of what he says is based in truth. “Do you ever stop talking?” No, you don’t. You like talking with your friends, like sharing stories, and laughing together. 

“Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?” Yes, and it hurt. And it continues to hurt. “Why don’t you just shut up for once?” You can’t. You can’t because if you stop talking, if you stop distracting yourself then you’ll actually feel everything. You can’t stop talking, you can’t stop taking care of others because you cannot take care of yourself. You’re incapable of it. 

You can’t say that he’s being rude or mean. He’s just being blunt, and gruff, that’s just how he is. That’s what everyone tells you. They tell you to just ignore when he’s being a dick because he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just what he does because he doesn’t know any other way. 

You shouldn’t have listened. You shouldn’t have placed so much faith in others. You should have just left him alone. Maybe then he wouldn’t have snapped, wouldn’t have said such cruel things to you. 

It broke you a little inside. Hearing what he really thought of you. Despite it all, despite the cruel words and harsh attitude, you had hope. You thought they were all right, that he just needed to warm up to you. And you so desperately just wanted to be something for him to lean on because you’ve never had that before and you know what it feels like to be so lonely. 

“Hey, Logan.” You step into the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for something to snack on. “Weren’t there apples in here?” You’re talking aloud, but it’s meant for yourself. 

It’s that moment that it all finally comes crashing down. This pathetic illusion that he wants anything to do with you or your friendship. It almost makes you laugh, that this mundane moment is when you feel your heart shatter in your chest. When you get so sick to your stomach your bones ache and your limbs tingle with this odd phantom pain. 

“Could you just shut up?” his voice is low as he leans over the counter. His fingers spin idly around the neck of a beer bottle. You wonder how he managed to sneak it in here, Charles has banned alcohol. You watch the condensation collect on the cracks of his palm and shrug the pain off. 

You’re used to this. This is normal. “Right,” you squeeze past him and look in the pantry. “Sorry,” you whisper, if you speak any louder your voice will crack and that will just make everything worse. 

“You’re just always around, aren’t you?” You glance over your shoulder at him but you don’t respond. Deny it as much as he wants, you have gotten to know him. You recognize the tells. 

He’s had a bad day, he needs a way to get it out of his system. You just happened to walk into the kitchen at the wrong time. It could be anyone he snaps at, but today it’s you. Which seems to be happening more often. 

You do what you did when you were a kid, eyes forward, face flat. You keep yourself neutral, let yourself sink into that apathetic place so whatever he yells at you doesn’t hurt. “You tiptoe around me, act like I’m this wounded stray you need to fix.” 

Your brows pinch in confusion and you shake your head. Second mistake. You shouldn’t have walked into the kitchen in the first place. And you definitely shouldn’t have argued. “No, Logan, that’s not true-”

Although, maybe he has a point. You can’t fix yourself so you try and fix him. 

“I don’t know why they keep you around. You contribute nothing, you do nothing for any of us. We can’t even take you out on the field,” his voice begins to raise and you find yourself backing into the cabinets, hating the way this is beginning to make you feel. “You’re so fucking sensitive we can’t trust that you won’t just kill us all if something goes wrong! You don’t deserve a spot on this team!”

You jump back as he shouts at you, hip jamming into the corner of the island so hard you have to bite your lip so you don’t make a noise. Spit flies from the corners of his mouth, the ferocity of his voice and words are that strong. 

You take in a few quick breaths, blinking the sting out of your eyes and focusing on the wall behind him. “Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull,” he warns, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you around. Leave me alone.”

You don’t cry, you can’t cry. You don’t speak because you’re afraid of what other cruelties that might provoke. Maybe you would understand all this if you’d been bugging him when he’d already made it clear he needed space. All you wanted was a fucking apple. 

You don’t feel much of anything as you slowly nod your head, not agreeing but appeasing. He watches you with something like surprise on his face. You don’t know that he’s wondering why you’re not saying anything back. 

It’s why he yells at you when he doesn’t know what to do. You can take it, you can put him in his place. But you’re not speaking and he doesn’t know why this time is so different. 

Finally, you turn on your heel and leave, footsteps soft as you retreat back to your room. Logan watches you go with an odd twisting feeling in his stomach. He didn’t think you could be pushed too far. You seem to always just have this endless patience. 

You treat him gently, even when the others get sick of the way he processes things. Today was hard, you just happened to be nearby. He didn’t mean half of what he said. He doesn’t know why he lashes out the way he does, he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

He doesn’t like it, contrary to what the others think. He doesn’t like hurting you or being mean to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you that provokes this side of him that no one else does. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid. He can’t say what he’s afraid of, he’s never been able to admit it to himself. 

He’s yelled at you plenty of times before. You don’t know what it is about that one day that was so different. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. You’ll set him straight or give him space. But today, it was needless. You weren’t doing anything. 

You didn’t deserve to be lashed out like that, cornered and scared in the place you call home. 

It was unprovoked and maybe it finally made you see him for what he really is. A bully. It doesn’t make sense, how he can be so kind and caring to Marie. How he can help Jean and Ororo so sweetly, but can’t muster one kind fucking word for you. 

You don’t let yourself cry, even though you want to. Even though there’s a cloying, suffocating feeling clawing its way up the back of your throat. His room is on the same hall as yours and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made you cry. 

You, at the very least, finally stop asking yourself what you did wrong. Instead, you start to wonder what’s wrong with him. You get sick to your stomach, thinking about all the ways you cared for him. Remembering how much of yourself you gave up to make him happy. 

He was right about that, you are pathetic. He never deserved your help or your patience. You should never have offered him any grace. You’re embarrassed that you didn’t see it sooner. This isn’t a little boy pulling your pigtails because he likes you. This is a grown man who can’t regulate his emotions and decided you were the next best punching bag. 

You take in a few deep, shaky breaths and close your eyes until you’re forced to fall asleep. You don’t want to think or feel any of what just happened.

Logan hovers in front of your doorway for ten minutes before he heads downstairs. He’s got a class to run, he doesn’t have time to wait for you to wake up, he reasons. He’ll find you later and apologize then. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize he had gone too far yesterday. Even if you could take his usual level of dickishness, you didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t know what to do around you. You made him confront so many different conflicting emotions. It’s like every time he looks at you his brain is being ripped in twenty different directions and he doesn’t know what to do. 

You’re so endlessly patient and gracious. It makes him realize he wants to be a better man and he can’t be. He resents you slightly for that. For having such a wonderful idea of what he could be, even though he knows he can never be that man.  

He doesn’t find you that day. He makes up enough excuses that he goes to bed promising himself he’ll apologize tomorrow. Which he never does. Because actually saying it would be an admittance that he knows what he did was wrong. And what does that make every other time he’s yelled at you? What does that make him?

It returns to the same cycle it always does. He waits a few days until things are cooled down and you’ll have already forgotten about it. He starts to feel overwhelmed and he goes to find you because you always know what to do. And if you don’t, then you provide an outlet. 

He spots the back of your head in the gardens. You’re with Jean and he expects the usual dirty look she gives him after you’ve both fought. Instead, she smiles warmly at him and waves. Which is odd, usually you tell her about what’s happened between the two of you and she holds the grudge longer than you do. 

You glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips, to see who she’s waving at. Logan sees the way it falls when you see him and his steps falter. You never do that, you always look so happy to see him. 

“Jean,” he greets curtly, eyes on you. 

She says hello and they both look to you. Normally, you would have already spoken. But you don’t, you turn your eyes to the kids. Jean frowns and turns back to him, “Everything alright, Logan?” 

He can’t take his eyes off of you. You read his moods, and know them better than he does. You should have already offered to talk. Maybe he really does need to apologize. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

He says your name and your brows just barely raise in question, though you couldn’t seem less interested. “Need to talk to you.”

You shrug, “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to.” You brush past him and walk back into the mansion. He and Jean both watch you go, each of them shocked by how dismissive you were. That’s never happened before. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Jean demands, the smile gone from her face and her tone deadly. She glares at him, clearly expecting an answer. But he doesn’t have one. Because this is something he’s done a million times and this has never happened. He doesn’t know what’s gone wrong. 

He thought your absence would be a relief. After a few more days he begins to realize that he was wrong. He thought that not having someone constantly badgering him to be better and set good examples for the kids would be a relief. 

There’s no one nagging him. No one forcibly checking on him after a mission when he doesn’t need it. No one to care. 

There are chunks of his day that you would normally fill that now seem to drag on. Lunches are quiet without you constantly rambling about nothing in his ear. When there’s friction among the team and they’re ganging up on him, you remain silent. He supposes he should be grateful. 

You finally listened to him for once. But he’s angry. He always seems to be angry and he doesn’t understand why. There is so much of his mind and life that was stolen from him. He wonders if he got any of it back if it would explain why he is the way he is. 

It doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t fix what he can’t undo. He sees you with the others constantly. You’re always laughing, always happy. Like nothing’s happened. Like you haven’t cut him out of your life completely. And then, when you’re around him, it’s like a switch is flipped. 

You’re irritatingly silent. Practically a brick wall. He pokes and he prods, using every weapon in his arsenal to try and provoke a reaction from you. But you give him nothing. 

There is an ache in his chest when he sees the way your smile drops when he walks into a room. He doesn’t understand the feeling. This is exactly what he wanted. To be left alone. 

It feels so wrong. 

It happens in the kitchen again. Odd, that that’s become such an important place to you. 

Your back is to the entrance and you’re busy slicing up some fruit for yourself. You don’t hear him come in. Not until he speaks. “I’m-” you jump at the sound of his voice. Whirling around with a shocked look on your face. 

He chuckles a little at the reaction but when you don’t smile he stops. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. It sounds semi genuine. But it also sounds like it hurt him to say. “I’m sorry, so can you please just stop ignoring me?”

You shrug and go back to cutting up the fruit. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“No?” He demands. “Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t we eat lunch together anymore? You can’t even fucking look at me.”

You slam the knife down on the cutting board, taking in a deep breath so you don’t do something you regret. Your nails dig into your palms, trying to center yourself. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted,” you utter, voice low. 

You turn just enough to make eye contact. “I’m leaving you the fuck alone. That’s what you wanted right? I don’t think I could have misheard while you were screaming it at me.” You turn to leave, abandoning your fruit because you don’t have an appetite anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispers before you can make it out of the kitchen. “I,” he stops and starts again, “I miss you. I’m not a mean person, I don’t know why I hurt you.”

You stare at him, face unflinching. You give him nothing and he knows it's what he deserves. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it-”

“Good,” you cut him off with a disgusted sneer. “Because I’m not looking to hand it out. Especially not to you. You only want me because you miss what I do for you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve me.” You turn on your heel and walk away from him, unwilling to entertain any more conversation. 

This is what you’ve always done. When someone hurts you, really irrevocably hurts you, they’re gone. They’re gone from your life. From your mind. More importantly, your heart. You don’t have any obligations to entertain him or speak with him outside of professionalism. 

You thought cutting him out of your life would hurt more. But it’s like you can breathe for the first time in months. You’re no longer striving to gain someone’s approval. You’re not chasing after something you’ll never catch. 

You can find happiness within yourself. Begin to do the things you would do for him, for you. It’s a relief. And a little sobering. Perhaps, in your mission to help him, you’d burdened him with the desires you had for yourself. 

You believe that you’re unfixable. You believe there are facets of yourself that are too dark to face. That you are undeserving of love and kindness. You recognized those things in Logan and tried to force on him what you’ve always wanted for yourself. 

It was wrong. A mutually toxic relationship that never would have made it far had anything actually happened between you two. You can’t paint yourself the victim and you never meant to. It’s why you didn’t tell anyone what happened between the two of you. 

They wonder, of course, why you no longer spend lunches together. Why you no longer rush to defend him when he doesn’t need the help. Why you don’t smile around him anymore. There are questions that you deflect. Saying, you just needed space from each other. 

Your harm was a silent one. Forcing him into a mold he was never going to fit in. Despite the claims of loneliness, you can see the way your absence benefits him. He’s calmer, less likely to yell when provoked. He just needed the space to find himself. Not to have someone try and make him something new. 

You feel an ache in your chest when you think about how differently things could have been had you just let him be. If you had let things happen between the two of you naturally then maybe you really could have been something great. 

A month goes by without speaking to each other. After that day in the kitchen, he seems to understand that there’s no putting back together what was broken. It was already cracked to start with, the break was inevitable. 

You warm slowly to him. Give him polite greetings when you see him. And he smiles at you sometimes, on the jet when Scott says something ridiculous, or just in passing. It’s nice, being a stranger to him. It’s comforting. 

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

You look up from the paperwork in front of you and give Logan a small smile. He’s hovering in the entrance to the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for your permission. “Hi,” you say softly.

He takes that as the go-ahead and walks in, heading for the fridge. You listen to him rummage around before he pulls out a beer. “Where do you hide those things?” You ask, and you almost bite your tongue. This is the most you’ve spoken to each other in a long time. It feels wrong to joke so easily. 

“Can’t tell you or Wheels is gonna stop me,” he grumbles. You just nod and turn your head back to your paperwork. It’s silent for a few minutes after that. He sits a little further down the island, nursing the beer while your pen scratches across the reports your students gave you. 

He clears his throat and you glance over at him from the corner of your eye. “I,” he starts but quickly closes his mouth. “Ah, forget it.”

Your brows pinch in confusion but you decide to leave it. You oddly don’t feel scared or anxious. You don’t worry that he’s going to snap at you if you provoke him. You choose not to because you’re not interested in engaging. 

You don’t really recognize the man before you. Maybe it’s because you never tried to get to know him before you tried changing him. It causes that familiar clenching feeling of guilt in your gut. 

You know if you gave him a chance things would be different. You could be friends, real friends. There’s a reason you latched so readily onto him. There’s a familiar pain in him that’s reflected back in you. 

You stand up, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and pushing your stool in. Logan straightens up as he watches you wash off your dishes and collect your items. Before you can make it out of the kitchen he’s standing from his chair. 

He stops in front of you, hand outstretched before him. “Logan,” he greets. 

You tilt your head in confusion, glancing between him and his hand before it finally clicks what he’s trying to do. Start over, reintroduce yourselves. Actually give each other chances to understand the other. 

This all started because you shared the same pain and you resented each other for it. But you could comfort each other instead. Be pillars of stability and strength in each other’s lives instead of trying to tear the other down so you don’t see yourself in them anymore. 

You were both too afraid to face who you truly are and it nearly destroyed you. But this is a stranger in front of you. You don’t know this man, but you think you’d like to. You give him your name and shake his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you,” you whisper, a slight joke to your tone. 

He holds on for a second longer than he should, the breath rushing out of him like he hadn’t thought you would accept. You smile softly at him before you pass by to go upstairs. His hand lingers on your, skin tingling under your touch until you can no longer hold on. 

You don’t know what it means for you, this odd new truce between the two of you. But you won’t linger on that tonight. You’ll go to bed feeling comforted that for the first time since you’ve met him, Logan has made you happy. 

a/n: felt more like a diary entry than a fic, sorry lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always ♡

[juleswritesstuff]

Pieces

Just Theo losing his mind over a tiny, little dress

theo nott x fem!reader

warnings: smut (this one's filthy, y'all)

The music blasting through the Slytherin common room was not only filling your ears, but your whole body too.

It was running through your veins, every muscle and nerve consumed by the slow rhythm of the bass.

You were moving to the beat without a care in the world, lost in the flow, surrounded by warm bodies moving along the same melody.

Until a pair of hands found place on your hips, a presence making itself known behind you as your back collided with his chest.

You would've recognized that scent everywhere.

A smirk grew on your lips.

Bingo.

“Are you trying to kill me, bambolina ?” his smooth voice reached your ears through the loud banging of some song you didn't quite recognize. (babydoll)

His hands were scorching hot on your hips, feeling them through the flimsy fabric of your dress.

The way they wanted to touch, to feel, to own.

The grin on your lips widened.

Oh, he was so easy to tease.

You turned around, meeting his eyes.

Their usual sky blue had become deeper, a storm in full swing.

They were dark, hungry, and yet you could still find that glint of cockiness that never left his gaze.

Theodore Nott was as beautiful as he was devilish.

Good thing you knew how to take him.

Metaphorically and physically speaking.

“Don't know what you're talking about” you said, swaying your hips to the sultry rhythm and morphing your expression to one of fake cluelessness.

“Really ? I'm pretty sure you do” the grin on his face was teasing but you could see the light clench of his jaw.

Trying to keep it cool, to keep control.

Unfortunately for him his eyes scanning every inch of your body betrayed him and his illusion of a collected behavior.

“You don't like my dress ?” you asked, getting closer and circling his neck with your arms.

His hands were on your back, traveling up and down, tracing your skin through the fabric, memorizing every nook and curve of your body.

A shiver ran down your spine as he pulled you closer to him, chest to chest.

“You have the nerve to ask me that ?” he uttered, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief.

A chuckle left your lips.

“You sound so affronted, Nott” your hand slipped through his hair, combing them lightly while your bodies kept swaying to the music.

He closed his eyes in bliss, feeling your gentle fingers brush through his brown locks.

And then you pulled.

A bit harsher, a bit rougher.

Exactly how he liked it.

Theo groaned, his eyes snapping open as the grip on your hips became tighter. 

His forehead touched yours as he leaned closer and closer.

“Oh, you want to play with fire I see” he breathed mere inches away from your lips.

“Maybe I do” you grinned, your tone challenging.

“And what happened to ‘I wouldn't touch you even if you were the last man on earth’, dolcezza ?” he asked teasingly, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. (sweety)

Your cheeks warmed up the slightest bit.

Yes, you and Theo hadn’t started off in the best of ways.

But things changed.

Especially after the most completely unexpected and undoubtedly best fuck of your life, courtesy of a very heated arguement between the two of you that ended with him buried deep inside of you while you basically chanted his name like a prayer.

You wished you could say it was a one time thing, a mistake.

But it wasn’t.

Because soon you found out that no one made you feel better than him.

Your body craved his touch, you couldn't help it.

“Well, I didn't know the wonders that your mouth and your cock were capable of at the time, can you really blame me ?” you asked back, lifting an eyebrow.

“So that's why you chose the tiniest, sexiest dress you own ? Cause you wanted to get your guts rearranged ?” he teased with a shit-eating smirk.

“Who knows” you shrugged your shoulders as a smug smile grew on your lips.

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

“You'll be the death of me, bambolina” he mouthed right on your lips before leaning in. (babydoll)

And fuck that felt both like heaven and hell.

His mouth was soft and rough at the same time.

Hungry, needy, pure fire that was consuming you.

The taste of nicotine and alcohol mixed with a sweetness that you couldn't quite pinpoint, but it was there.  And it was addicting.

You wanted more.

You always wanted more when Theo was involved.

His tongue teased yours, playing his dirty little games.

Your mind went blank.

“Your room or mine ?” you asked, millimeters away from his lips.

“Whichever is the closest, I don't care” he said hurriedly “Non vedo l'ora di strapparti questo cazzo di vestito di dosso” (I can't wait to rip this fucking dress off of you)

You didn't understand a single thing of the Italian coming out of his mouth as he was busy leaving a trail of eager kisses down your neck, going so slow that your brain started to melt.

You had no idea of how you managed to arrive at your dorm, too engrossed in the feeling of having him so close to you.

But now there you were.

The door closed with a click, and after a second you felt him everywhere.

His hands in your hair, on your face, your neck, hips, thighs.

Fucking everywhere.

Your back collided with the wall as he kissed you like he needed air and you were pure oxygen filling his lungs.

“You’re a vixen, you know that ?” he whispered “making me lose my fucking mind moving your hips like that” 

His lips were still on yours, his hands kneading the plush skin of your ass, making you hiss in pleasure.

“Didn’t know I only needed a dress to make you go ballistic, Nott” you muttered with a chuckle as he decorated your throat with slow, wet kisses. 

“I couldn’t give less than a shit about the dress, Y/n. You are the one making me go fucking feral, not this stupid piece of fabric” he groaned against your skin.

“Then rip it the fuck off of me, why don’t you ?” you said, whimpers leaving your mouth as Theo found the most sensitive spot on your neck, starting to tease it with his tongue, his teeth and that sinful mouth of his.

You felt his smirk right on your skin.

“As you wish, bambolina”

 In a heartbeat you heard cloth being torn, shredded to pieces.

The air suddenly hitting your skin made goosebumps appear all over your body.

Your eyes snapped to his.

The fire in them almost burned you, matching your own.

Lust and hunger filled every cell of your being, seeing the poor dress resting in pieces on the floor.

Because Theo had literally ripped it off.

You didn’t think this man could get any hotter.

Guessed you were fucking wrong.

“Cazzo, sei una visione Y/n'' he whispered breathlessly. (Fuck, you're a vision Y/n)

His eyes ran all over your figure, taking in every curve, every inch of your body, imprinting it in his memory forever.

Then he began his journey of torture.

He started with his lips on yours, nibbling and sucking slowly, seductively, proceeding along your jaw, traveling down and reaching your neck, kissing the skin that was already turning a dark red from his previous attentions.

He stopped briefly at your shoulder, delicately removing your bra as the pads of his fingers brushed your skin tenderly.

He left his marks all over you.

On your shoulder, your collarbones, on your breasts teasing your sensitive nipples with his tongue before sucking gently, grazing them with his teeth and sending bolts of electricity throughout your entire body.

His lips were soft, but they left a burning path everywhere they touched.

Moans and whimper left your mouth with each and every caress of his skin on yours.

He kept giving attention to every single centimeter of your figure, going down and down until he sank on his knees.

The sight of him kneeling in front of you with that deep, dark look in his eyes turned you on like nothing ever did before.

“This might be my favorite angle of you, you know ?” you confessed, your fingers combing through his brown waves.

You felt him grin against your hip bone, kissing it right after.

“Is it ?” his tone was teasing, playful, as he traced your skin with his lips “when I’m on my knees ?” another kiss lingered on your hip “right at your mercy ?” 

“Shit- yeah” you choked out a whimper as his mouth got closer and closer to your core.

The grip on his hair tightened and he let out a deep moan.

“Well, that’s good to know, princess” he said simply “cause this is my favorite place to be. Right between your thighs” and then he left a soft kiss directly on your clothed heat before sliding your panties down your legs.

A needy moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“You're perfect. You're so fucking perfect” he whispered in awe, completely drunk on the sight of your naked body.

“Theo…” you whined.

“Yes, baby ?” 

Fuck, that word made your stomach churn in the best way possible.

“Just fucking get to it” you said urgently.

A cocky smile appeared on his face as he started to slowly get up, placing kisses here and there, making his journey back to your lips.

You whined, missing the feeling of his mouth lingering on your most sensitive spot.

“You’re needy” he whispered in your ear, making you shiver.

“You’re torturing me” you bit back, breathless and impertinent.

“Oh, so you can tease me in front of our whole House, but I can’t have my little fun when it’s just us ? Seems a bit unfair, tesoro” he mocked you lightheartedly with the most irritatingly hot smirk. (darling)

“Wipe that smug little smile off your face Nott, I can't stand it” you said, the annoyance in your tone as clear as the lust in it, too.

“Can’t stand it ?” he asked sensually, his breath tickling your ear before looking you in the eyes with that sinful grin that made you go feral “then why don’t you fucking sit on it, bambolina” 

His gaze was dark, the blue of his eyes completely swallowed up by blackness.

The breath got knocked out of your lungs.

Hot liquid desire filled your veins.

Your entire body was consumed by him, every single cell screaming his name.

And who were you not to listen ?

“Lay down then” you said with a devilish grin, pushing him backwards until his knees hit the bed frame, forcing him to sit down.

You wasted no time and straddled his hips, your naked body flashed aginst his still clothed one.

“Fucking hell” he mumbled on your mouth as you dived in to kiss him hungrily, tongue brushing his in a filthy dance.

His hands gripped your lower back so tightly you were sure there would’ve been bruises in the shape of his handprints the following day.

And you couldn’t wait to fucking see them.

 “Something wrong, pretty boy ?” you taunted, coating his neck with kisses, swiping your tongue over the skin and making him groan in pleasure.

“I have you naked on my lap, Y/n, nothing could be more right” he said, looking at you directly in the eyes with a smile and his usual cocky attitude.

“Why don’t you take off some clothes too, mh ? Preferably all of them” you muttered, breaths away from his lips.

“Get rid of them, then” he answered you with a challenging glint in his deep blue eyes, and a sardonic smile.

You smirked, fisting both sides of his shirt and pulling harshly.

Buttons flew everywhere as you ripped the shirt open, finally exposing his perfectly chiseled chest to your eyes.

Your hands ran all over his torso, tracing every hard and soft surface with fleeting touches.

God, Quidditch practice really had its benefits.

“Now we’re even” you said, kissing his lips again, referring to the dress he had shredded to pieces not too long ago.

Then your fingers traveled down, reaching the hem of his pants and brushing his half hard cock playfully through the fabric.

He hissed in pleasure, but as soon as you tried to unbutton them he stopped you.

“That can wait, baby. I need to taste you first” he purred in your ear before laying down completely, his back colliding with the soft mattress of your bed.

“Impatient, are we ?” you mocked him lightheartedly, but as soon as you felt his hands on lower back, massaging the soft skin, urging you to crawl on his body and come closer until your core was right in front of him, glistening with desire, the smile on your face was replaced by a moan.

“When it comes to you ? Always” he smiled, leaving a trail of steamy, open mouthed kisses on the tender skin of your inner thighs.

A pathetic sob left your throat.

He was going so achingly slow you were starting to lose your goddamn mind.

“Seems to me that you’re taking your sweet fucking time, instead” you snapped impetuously.

He was teasing you mercilessly, and you couldn’t stand it.

“I’ll take all the time I need if it means that I get to see you being a needy mess before my tongue even touches you” he sneered against your skin, mouth getting closer and closer to where you needed it the most, but never close enough.

“Theo, please” you cried as your hands swiped through his brown locks, spread on the pillow like a halo, eliciting him to do something, anything to give you at least some sweet relief.

“Sei così bella, cazzo” he whispered as his eyes shined with an earnestness that you had never seen in them “e sei tutta per me”. (You're so beautiful, fuck)(and you're all mine)

And then finally, finally he stuck his tongue out dragging it over your folds to get a long awaited taste.

The groan that came out of his mouth sent delicious vibrations to your clit, making your whole body squirm.

“Oh fuck” you moaned as he started to devour you messily.

He ate you out like he had been starving for weeks and you were his first meal, like he was born for it and his place was right there, between your legs.

He licked and kissed and sucked all over your sensitive core, pleasuring you like no one else ever could, making you feel everything.

You writhed above him. 

Loud, shaky whines left your lips as he made out with your cunt shamelessly and sloppy, coating his face with your essence and feasting hungrily.

When his lips wrapped around your clit you whailed.

The whole castle probably heared you even through the music of the party that was taking place downstairs, but you couldn’t care less.

Because Theo was beneath you, eating you out so perfectly and filthily that all you could think about was his mouth on you.

“So sweet. You taste so sweet, Y/n” he said right against your throbbing core, making you shiver. Your hands on his hair tightened their grip, using it as leverage to move your hips back and forth faster, desperately.

“Theo- shit, baby-” you couldn’t even talk.

You were close.

You were so close that you felt the familiar tension building up, ready to explode.

And apparently he did too, because his mouth started to work faster, licking and lapping at an unforgiving pace.

“Go ahead, baby. Make a mess on my face” he wrapped his lips around your clit one more time and he sucked, sending you over the edge.

The coil in your tummy snapped, your vision turning white as waves of pleasure washed all over you, making your ears ring and your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

The moans coming out of your mouth were dirty, raw.

The movement of your hips slowed down as Theo kept dragging his tongue over your folds slowly, carefully, licking you clean and paying attention not to overstimulate you, but not letting even one single drop of your sweet essence go to waste.

Once you got down from your high and your brain started to regain its ability to form coherent words you shifted your gaze downwards, finding Theo looking at you while his hands caressed your legs tenderly.

“There you are. I thought I broke you for a second” he smiled, teasing lightheartedly.

You huffed a sneer as you crawled backwards with shaky legs, going back to straddle his hips rather than his face.

“Don't get too confident, Nott. It's not a good look” you bit back with a smile that matched his.

A chuckle left his lips as he lifted his torso to sit up, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

He kissed you softly, delicately, making your stomach flip.

“Everything ok ?” he asked on your lips while he tucked a rogue strand of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.

And there it was, the thing that made you so confused about Theodore Nott.

It was in moments like these when you forgot that the guy in front of you, who gave you the best head of your life and was an actual fucking excellent lover was the same guy you used to have daily insulting sessions with.

Muggles had a saying, you heard.

‘There's a thin line between hate and love’

And you were sure that that line had been all kinds of blurry since Theo had put his lips on you for the first time.

Or, maybe, even before.

You didn't want to think about it. 

The possibilities of that revelation being true made your stomach knot up.

So you put them to the side, and focused back on him.

“Yes” you answered, your fingers buried in the hair at the base of his neck, massaging reassuringly “I’m ok. More than ok, even” 

“How about your legs ?” he asked, placing soft kisses on your shoulder.

“Is this some new way to ask me if I still have some remaining strength to ride you ?” you teased, narrowing your eyes mischievously.

“Would you believe me if I said it isn't ?” he questioned playfully, lifting an eyebrow and tightening his embrace on you.

“Not really, no” you said unconvinced, your face opened up in a smile.

“Guessed so” he shook his head in amusement, his eyes glinting in the dim light of your room.

“Unfortunately for you my legs are sore, so no riding” you admitted, your smile turning smug “but that doesn't mean that you can't fuck me in any other position know to man”

His hands on your hips tightened their grip.

“Is that so ?” he taunted, his eyes turning hungry again, the fire in them reaching the deepest parts of your soul “then tell me bambolina, how would you like me to take you apart tonight ?” 

“However you want” you smirked, leaning in to kiss him again, swiping your tongue on his lower lip before biting the plump skin provocatively “go ahead pretty boy, make me cry on your cock”

His eyes got impossibly darker, hungrier.

Ravenous.

“Then get on all fours for me, princess” he rumbled lowly, looking at you like he wanted to devour you whole.

You wasted no time as you kept your mouth glued to his, getting off his lap and flipping your positions. You crawled backwards a little, Theo following you as he chased your lips until you were completely laying down with him above you.

His hands caressed your hips, moving down to trace the skin of your thigh, making goosebumps appear all over your body.

Your fingers traveled everywhere, feeling the heated skin against your pads. 

They caressed his chest, his shoulders, his back, until they reached the hem of his pants, unbuttoning them with a swift move.

“Impatient, are we ?” he teased you, using your own words against you.

His lips latched to your neck, one hand on the mattress holding his weight and the other sliding his trousers down together with his underwear.

“Less talking and more undressing, Nott” you urged as your hands went to his hair, massaging his scalp, making him groan.

He pulled away from you just enough to take away his pants completely, leaving him naked.

Your eyes took in his perfectly sculpted lean body, and you clenched your legs unconsciously at the sight of his hard cock.

He didn't say anything to you eyeing him up like you wanted to swallow him whole, he just smirked.

But the look in his eyes told you that he knew every naughty little thought you were having in that moment.

Your cheeks heated up, and you turned around facing the mattress propped up on your elbows, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you that flustered.

You had seen him naked countless times, and yet his body still had that maddening effect on you.

The bed dipped with every move he made, getting closer to you again, until you felt his breath on your ear, chuckling.

“Going shy on me now, tesoro ?” he asked playfully, leaving a kiss on that sensitive spot that made you squirm. (darling)

“Shut up” you said weakly, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth leaving a path of steamy kisses along your back, causing your whole body to shiver in pleasure.

He stopped right over the little dimples on your lower back, kissing them tenderly.

“Ready ?” he asked to make sure.

You didn't answer him, you just lifted your ass up, bending your knees and arching your back in the most sinful way you could master.

“Ready” you confirmed with a smug smile, hearing him groan in pleasure.

You turned your head a little, enough to see him stroking his cock at the sight of your exposed cunt, right at his mercy.

“You and your perfect body will be the death of me” you hear him whisper before feeling his hands on your ass.

His tip teasing your entrance made you moan pathetically.

He went slow, so achingly slow that you wanted to cry, feeling him burying himself deeper and deeper inside of you, inch by inch.

Until he bottomed out completely, head to base, filling you up so good that you wanted to scream.

“Fuck-” you moaned “fuck, fuck, fuck” broken sobs left your lips as you felt him throbbing inside of you.

“Shit- baby, you're tight” he said through gritted teeth, feeling your warmth around him and trying so hard not to cum on the spot, hearing all the filthy sounds you were making.

“Move” you practically begged “Theo, please. Just move” 

As soon as the words left your mouth his hips started to thrust, setting a slow and steady pace, making you adjust to his size without hurting you.

The head of his cock brushed your cervix with every prod, sending bolts of electricity to every nerve of your body.

But it wasn't enough.

You wanted more.

You needed more.

“Harder” you blurted, half begging and half demanding “I'm not gonna break, Theo. Fuck me. Harder” 

Not a word left his mouth, but suddenly you saw stars.

His hips snapped ruthlessly inside of you, knocking the air out of your lungs, making you scream his name.

You buried your face in the pillows, trying to muffle the sound of your wails.

But then you felt Theo’s chest colliding with your back and his arms around your torso, pulling your upper body up with him while he still fucked into you mercilessly.

“Voglio sentirti” he whispered in your ear, breath rugged and broken by the intensity of his hips plunging inside of you “voglio che l'intero cazzo di castello sappia chi è che ti scopa così bene” (I want to hear you)(I want the whole castle to know who's fucking you this good)

You didn't understand a single word coming out of his mouth, but you knew it had nothing to do with the language he was using and everything to do with his cock splitting you in half.

Your body was on fire, every muscle and nerve consumed by pleasure, corroded by lust.

You were close again.

Your arm reached behind you, pulling Theo’s head closer.

The position was awkward, making the kiss even more filthy, a mess of tongues and teeth.

“God- Theo, I'm close” you moaned against his mouth.

One hand holding your body flashed against his, the other going to tease your clit with slender fingers.

You were right there, his fingers drawing circles on that little bundle of nerves faster and faster.

“Cum for me, bambolina” was what he whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your skin as your orgasm hit you.

The world stopped, every single thing ceased to exist except for the exploding pleasure in your veins and the feeling of Theo’s heated and sweaty skin on yours.

The clench of your cunt squeezing his cock sent him over the edge too, painting your walls white while a strangled moan escaped his lips.

Getting down from your high you collapsed on the bed.

With your breath labored and short, your body numb and your head in the clouds you placed your head on Theo's chest as his arm wrapped around you.

Was it weird to cuddle with the guy who used to get on your nerves more than anything else ? Most definitely.

Was it also weird to fuck said guy and wanting to sometime still punch his ridiculously handsome face at the same time ? Absolutely.

Did you care ? Not one bit.

“You owe me a shirt” he blurted out after his breath turned back to normal again, stroking your hair absent-mindedly.

“You owe me a dress” you retorted back, feeling his heartbeat slowing down right under your ear.

“Shopping at Hogsmeade next weekend ?” he asked nonchalantly, like he hadn't just dropped a bomb on you.

Your eyes widened beyond measure.

“Pardon ?” your voice went several tones higher than usual, in complete disbelief from the words that had just reached your ears.

“Calm down, bambolina. No need to get all flustered” he chuckled, but rather than mocking it seemed endeared “you'll buy me a new shirt and I'll buy you a new dress. Deal ?” 

You had no idea what to answer.

But in the end you accepted.

“Deal” 

What could go wrong anyway ?

He lives in my mind rent free, I can't help it.

Hope you enjoyed 💗

[sennamybeloved]

⛧ SELFSHIPTOBER 2024 ⛧

HELLO ALL! welcome to another year of selfshiptober. i've noticed this is pretty much the 'official' selfship tober event now, which honestly warms my heart! i love seeing what this wonderful community does with my prompts :)

this year, i'm doing things a little differently. EACH DAY HAS TWO PROMPTS ASSIGNED TO IT. the first set is SHIPPY, while the second set is SPOOKY. you may either COMBINE THE TWO PROMPTS TOGETHER or CHOOSE ONE OF THE PROMPTS. the spooky prompts are a bit on the grittier side and probably won't appeal to most, so if you'd like to only use the first set of prompts and completely ignore the second, be my guest! on the other hand, if you prefer the gritter prompts, you can only use the second set of prompts, you can do that too! if you want an extra challenge, you can create a piece that incorporates both of the day's prompts. you can also change your approach depending on how you feel that day!

there are no hard rules for this. YOU CAN START WORKING ON THIS CHALLENGE EARLY, but i encourage you to wait until october to post anything. YOU CAN ALSO CONTINUING WORKING ON IT AFTER OCTOBER ENDS! you can drag this shit out into december for all i care. just DON'T OVERWORK YOURSELF PLEASE.

without further ado, LET US PROCEED TO THE PROMPTS!

#1. confession  |  night.

#2. blanket  |  flame.

#3. embrace  |  blood.

#4. apple picking  |  fog.

#5. all dressed up  |  blade.

#6. carnival  |  haunted.

#7. rain  |  infection.

#8. swim  |  terror.

#9. music  |  masquerade.

#10. warmth  |  claws.

#11. comfort  |  recovery.

#12. married  |  ritual.

#13. party  |  magic.

#14. date night  |  vampire.

#15. games  |  hunt.

#16. candy  |  illusion.

#17. heart  |  feast.

#18. pining  |  violent.

#19. shared hobby  |  potion.

#20. trust  |  experiment.

#21. snuggle  |  nightmare.

#22. kiss  |  scars.

#23. movie night  |  slasher.

#24. baking  |  empty.

#25. rest  |  bandages.

#26. beautiful  |  grotesque.

#27. decorations  |  cemetery.

#28. brush  |  forest.

#29. pumpkin  |  lantern.

#30. flowers  |  snow.

#31. halloween  |  death.

TAG YOUR CREATIONS AS #SELFSHIPTOBER 2024 AND TAG ME IF YOU'D LIKE ME TO SEE! i cannot guarantee interaction as i struggle socially, but i promise i'll look at everything! HAPPY CREATING ♡

[boltwrites]

Kitty

Fandom: Marvel; X-Men Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine / Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: M Tags: Suggestive, Logan's cat ear hair, Teasing

Synopsis: Sleep-addled and maybe a little horny, you ask Logan if he does his hair like that on purpose.

A/N: Fun fact about this one - you could replace reader with Deadpool and the fic would probably be the exact same (but probably with more stabbing). Enjoy! Also I almost titled it Kittyuuuuuhhhh but decided against it LMAO. Is this good? No. But I needed to expel it like some kind of demon. Anyway-

You made a soft pleased noise, arching your back as you stretched as far as you could under the thin sheet of your shared bed. Muscled warmed, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, blinking blearily against the morning light that filtered in through the curtains.

You smiled - sleepy and sweet - as you propped yourself on your elbows to see the figure sat at the foot of your bed. Logan was already awake and halfway dressed, jeans hugging his hips as he leaned over to tug on his boots. Meanwhile, here you were - still in the oversized T-shirt you used as pajamas, your hair messy from sleep.

On that thought, your eyes drifted from where they had been admiring the taunt planes of his back, to Logan's own styled hair. He'd already brushed it, those little tufts that curled into what looked like tiny devil horns neatly defined in the soft morning light.

You frowned. Hmm, no, devil horns wasn't quite right. Not really.

You sat up, a hazy plan dancing through your mind as you crawled your way to the end of the bed. Logan glanced back at you - your heart flipped at the soft smile he offered you, making no effort to shy away from your touch.

"Hey, you don't have to get up because of me," he chided. You didn't listen - instead, you draped your arms around his warm shoulders, leaned in to pepper little kisses along his jaw, even if his beard caught most of them. You didn't mind how it tickled.

"But you're wearing my favorite outfit," you insisted, doing your best not to chuckle. You did like him in worn out jeans and no shirt. It looked good on him. Everything looked good on the man, though.

"I'm wearing half an outfit," he replied, turning just enough so that he could press a proper kiss to your lips. You sighed, pillowing your head on his shoulder as his lips met yours - lazy, gentle. Those weren't words you'd use to describe his kisses at any other time of day, really. This was special.

"I know," you replied, offering him a silly smile as you leaned against his shoulder, arm around his chest preventing him from dressing any further. He didn't seem to mind, though, as your free hand carefully carded your way through his hair - making sure not to displace any of his hard work.

"But something I don't know..." you continued, twirling a finger around the tip of one of the tufts. "Is why your hair ends up like this. Do you do it on purpose?"

"Do I do what on purpose?" he asked. It was laced with a chuckle, like he thought this was one of your half-awake musings. And, perhaps it was, in a way. You were, technically half-awake. But you weren't making things up. It was a real question that had crossed your mind on several separate occasions.

"You know-" you insisted, releasing that little bit of hair from your grasp. "The kitty ears."

"The what?"

He laughed it, pulled away from you if only to make sure you caught a glance of his expression - a mixture of shock and amusement that telegraphed to you that he still wasn't taking you seriously.

You rolled your eyes at him, removing your hand from around his shoulders to scratch along his scalp, up to that little tuft of curled hair. He closed his eyes, made a low rumbling noise in his throat that only seemed to further the illusion that he was really just some big cat in disguise.

"The kitty ears," you insisted, "do you or do you not purposefully style your hair so you have these little kitty ear things?"

You sat up on your knees, reaching both your hands up to curl in the tufts - tugging them just hard enough to make his eyes flutter open as he looked up at you.

"Cat ears," he deadpanned, doubt lacing his words. "You think my hair looks like cat ears."

"Kitty ears," you clarified, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "And you didn't answer my question, which means you absolutely do it on purpose."

"No-" Logan started, tone exasperated. But, unfortunately for him, he was already in too deep.

"Nope, sorry-" you laughed, sitting down behind him to wrap your arms around his bare chest, brushing through the downy hair there. "You're my little kitty now."

"Jesus Christ-" he groaned, rolling his eyes as you kissed his cheek. You made to kiss the corner of his lips next, but he turned his head ever so slightly, trying his best to quell the smile that was spreading. He'd just wanted you to pay attention as he insisted:

"I'm not a fucking cat."

"Why not?" you teased, kissing just under his ear with a little smile. "You've got the ears..."

You snaked a hand up to card through his hair again - making sure to rake your blunt nails along his scalp like you knew he loved. And, despite his dismissive tone, you caught his eyes fluttering closed, his lips parting ever so slightly.

"The claws..." you teased, punctuating each word with a new open-mouthed kiss to his neck - the last dotted with a touch of teeth that issued a sweet rumble from low in his throat.

"The fur-" your free hand slid down his chest - down the dips and curves of his defined abs, to tangle in the thicker hair that disappeared below the waistline of his jeans.

"And, I know how to make you purr," you chuckled, fingers dancing at the edge of his belt as your other hand weaved through one of those silly little kitty ears.

Logan wasn't immune to the way you touched him - when he laughed at your ridiculous comments, it was a bit breathless, even if he sounded absolutely exhausted with your antics.

"I have to get dressed," he insisted, his hand drawing over your own where you'd just started to wiggle your fingers under the tight denim. "And you're being ridiculous."

"Hmm," you hummed, nipping at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The muscles there jumped, tensed, then relaxed - and where he'd been grasping at your hand, your fingers briefly intertwined.

"If I remember correctly..." you pondered, nuzzling against his neck. "Kitties don't wear clothes."

"Oh, come on-" he groaned, laughing as he leaned back against your chest, his head pillowed on your shoulder. You grinned down at him. "How long are you gonna keep this shit up?"

"Until you're sick of it," you promised, kissing the corner of his mouth. He rolled his eyes. "Or, you take your pants off."

"We both know you'll keep saying it even if I take my pants off," he countered, his hold on your hand the only thing preventing you from inching your way into his pants.

"Touché. But -" you bargained. "I'd be distracted."

He laughed, loud and full, and your smile grew even more. That - that's what you really liked. When you could finally get some honest joy out of him. He looked so pretty when he smiled like that, even if it was brief. His hand squeezed over yours - soft, possessive, loving. That made your heart flutter even more than the thought of getting him undressed.

But he was right - you were never going to let him live this down.

[tower0fhera]

TAG DUMP : dethi , god of nightmares from links awakening .

⸻  DETHI  :  in character   ✦ hush now . sleep peacefully in my arms tonight  ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  answered   ✦ a nightmare is just another dream  ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  visage   ✦  we are a village & we are a family ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  about   ✦  draped in blankets & smelling of the sea ; i dream & dream  ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  dash games  ✦ softer than shadow  ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  muse  ✦ the victim shivering in bed ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  dash comm.  ✦  quicker than flies  ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  aesthetics  ✦ pillow of moss & stars are the blanket ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  music   ✦  lullabies while in dreamland ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  clothing  ✦ a smaller god wrapped in blankets   ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  drabble  ✦ we are what we’re supposed to be : illusions of your fantasy   ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  crack  ✦ mom says it my turn to give the ominous warming with no context   ˎˊ˗

⸻  DETHI  :  desires  ✦  is this why we wake up ? to see you ? ˎˊ˗

[plussizeficchick]

Am I Living an Illusion? | Suguru/Kenjaku x Chubby! Reader

Summary; You’re not so sure your boyfriend is who he says he is anymore.

Warnings; smut (cunnilingus, P in V) imposter! au? cockwarming (mentioned) not proofread (sorry y’all)

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

You tried to ignore it at first. The way he didn’t have that slight limp in his walk. How he started adding cream to his coffee instead of just black. The way he suddenly started treating you.

Suguru had always been a frigid lover. He never allowed you to get too close. In fact, you often wondered if you were even in a relationship in the first place. He never held your hand, hardly cuddled with you, and talking to him was like pulling teeth. The only shred of adoration he showed you was when his hands grabbed at the fat of your thighs to fuck into you.

That’s why you know whatever is in front of you, is not your Suguru.

Because your Suguru would never hold you the way this one does, like you’re his reason for breathing, like you’re a goddess among men and he’s trying to keep you for himself. He would never talk to you like this one does, voice so soft and gentle, almost like a whisper. He would never look at you like this one, like you hung the Sun, Moon and all the stars.

And he especially wouldn't plan an elaborate dinner for Valentine's Day.

— —

“I just want to spoil you, sweetheart. I feel we’ve grown apart these last few weeks.” He murmurs in your ear. You’d been trying to come to terms with your feelings for whatever is inhabiting your boyfriend, thus causing a bit of separation.

Anytime you both were in the same room, you made an excuse to leave. It was a bit immature, sure, but you didn’t know how to cope with what you were feeling. Something clearly wasn’t right with your boyfriend, but he was also beginning to act exactly how you’ve been wanting. You weren’t sure what to do, however, after mentioning in passing how much you wanted to participate in the holiday, you didn’t really have much of an excuse to get out of this.

“I- I don’t know, Sugu. It’s been a while.” You deflect. “Didn’t you say you’ve always wanted to do something on this day? I know I’ve been dismissive before, but I want to make up for that now.” He turns you to face him, thumb caressing the softness of your cheek. It’s moments like this that remind you he’s not who he used to be, that he’s something entirely different.

“Suguru” on the other hand was struggling to hold himself back from just wiping everything off the table taking you right there.

How? How did his host go this long without fucking you?

If it was up to him, you’d never leave his cock, reduced to nothing but a cock-drunk cumdump that warms his dick.

Not to say that was a bad thing. He just wants to ravish you, run his tongue along your curves and grip your supple flesh. Sink his teeth into your pouty lips and just take everything you have to offer.

You feel your cheeks heat up under his stare, the intensity in which he’s looking at you causing wetness to pool in your panties. “Well, yes. But I just think-” He shushes your thoughts by pressing a brief peck to your lips. “Ah, ah, ah,” He tuts, moving to pick up a chocolate covered strawberry and putting the delicacy to your lips. “No thinking today, just… feeling.” He says and if you weren’t paying attention, you’d miss the mischievous glint in his eyes.

Your clit pulses at his words, so you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine.

Without breaking eye contact, you lean down slightly and take a bite of delicious fruit in his hand. “Suguru” feels his cock twitch at the sight of the red juice dripping down your chin. He can’t help himself when he reaches out to wipe the juice, sucking the same finger into his mouth, savoring the taste of you.

And you can’t help yourself when you finally reach out and press a searing kiss to his lips, the taste of the strawberry and each other dancing on each of your tongues.

He pulls you into his lap without breaking the kiss, hands immediately finding purchase on your soft waist. He groans at the feel of you grinding down on his clothed cock, desperate for some sort of friction.

He takes pity on you and lifts you up with ease, the action causing you to squeal in surprise, arms wrapping around his neck to anchor yourself. “Do you really think I’d let you get hurt, sweet thing?” He asks earnestly, an almost hurt expression on his face. But it’s quickly wiped away as his hands run up and down your body. “With me around, you’ll never be hurt again.” It was said with such finality that you had no choice but to believe him.

He carries you to your shared bedroom, once cold now full of love. He carefully lays you on your silk sheets, taking his time to undress you, almost like a present for himself.

“Suguru” can hardly contain his appreciation for the sight before him. You were quite literally everything he was looking for in a partner, and he couldn’t believe his luck when he picked a host that had exactly what he needed.

With that thought in mind, he rids himself of his clothes, eager to make a mess of you. “You’re so pretty, baby. You look so good laid out for me like this.” He sighs, running his hands up and down your thighs. You try to squeeze them tight to prevent him from catching sight of your wetness but it’s fruitless; he can practically taste you on his tongue.

He manages to pry your legs apart, the sight of your sticky folds enough to make a grown man weep. He doesn’t hold himself back anymore, immediately diving into your soaked cunt.

You gasp as he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue laving over the bundle of nerves as you grind into his face. “That’s it, baby. Use me. Use me to get off, you deserve it.” And you know what? You fucking do.

So you do as he says, pressing his face further into your pussy as you get off on his mouth. He’s moaning into you, hands grabbing at whatever he can as you whine and gasp at the overwhelming feeling.

It doesn’t take long before you’re cumming, cunt spasming around his tongue as he uses it to fuck you through your orgasm, your body twitching at the intensity of it.

He presses one final kiss to your clit before pulling away slightly, hands rubbing comforting circles into your skin. He leans up to your face, pressing a deep kiss to your lips before pulling away to look at the softness in your eyes.

“Ready for more?” He asks, pressing sweet pecks to your chubby cheeks. You’re coherent enough to nod in the affirmative, and that’s all “Suguru” needs to get to work, running his hard dick through your soaked folds to lube himself up.

The glide into your cunt is easy, the head of his cock nearly nudging your cervix with every thrust.

He’s beating your poor pussy up, dick slamming into your g-spot and he’s not faring any better. Your moans and the squelch of your pussy is music to his ears, and the way your cunt clenches every time he makes a particularly deep thrust has a shiver running down his spine.

As he nears his orgasm, he realizes he has to feel you cum on his cock. It’s a must.

He reaches up and pinches each of your nipples, licking into your mouth when you open it to moan for him. “Cum for me. Cum on my fucking cock.” He demands, slamming into you in quick succession. All it takes is one, two, three more thrusts and you're spilling all over his cock, drenching him in your release. It’s not long before he’s right behind you, holding you flush against him as he spills his seed deep in your womb.

You’re panting against each other, holding each other as you catch your breaths. It’s a few minutes before “Suguru” pulls away and leaves the room and you’re worried things will go back to the way they were before. But then he comes back with a wet cloth, a bowl of the chocolate strawberries and a bottle of water. He hands you the fruit and water, before running the wet towel through your soaked folds, careful of your sensitivity.

Once he’s finished he tosses the towel onto his nightstand to be dealt with later, then pulling you flush against him as he feeds you more of the strawberries. You sigh in content as you let yourself be cared for.

Once you’ve finished the fruit and drank a good portion of the water, “Suguru” hugs you close to him once again, your back against his front, as he rubs his hand over your plump tummy. You think about this. About the intimacy he provides, the safety you feel with him.

“I know you’re not what you once were Suguru,” You start, and you feel him stiffen behind you. You place your hand over his, intertwining your fingers. “But I don’t care.”

He breathes out.

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @cherries-c0la @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon @c0pkiller

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

night sucker, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You and your hot-sexy-maybe-an-idiot-but-definitely-horny-and-always-perfect boyfriend Jeon Jungkook had mutually agreed not to fuck in the middle of the night. And... Well. You're still gonna fuck in the middle of the night. What?! It just happened! He slipped and his dick fell in your mouth! (It's the weekend, it's okay! :D)

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; playful banter and shitty jokes; you were asleep (not really) until his dick fell in your mouth (nice!); crack and fluff; smut (fem reader, m and f-receiving oral, fingering, m-masturbation, face sitting); squabbling tbh; non-idol!BTS - short black-haired!JK with his two lip rings; the parenthesis are the reader’s inner thoughts

crackhead best laid plans / counter point / well dressed / cursed hours couple no need to read the others, but they’re there if you want more

--

You woke up to your boyfriend’s hard dick sliding into your open lips.

Fuck yeah!

(Do we sense a kink developing? Mayhap.)

Most people would be a little surprised, annoyed perhaps, but thankfully you were pretty used to the unhinged horny behavior of Jeon Jungkook (encouraging it, even, oop). You weren’t completely in the dark (well, you were – er, never mind) about it, because you had felt the very suspicious bowing of the bed by your right shoulder, plus you could smell him (mmmm, that vanilla almond body wash still lingered), and you had sucked his cock many, many, many times before. Oh. Right. Should have led with that.

Point was, your mouth was well acquainted with his dick.

(You’d have matching friendship rings but Jungkook would complain too much, keke.)

Delicately, you turned your head a bit and molded your tongue around the shaft, feeling the head twitch in your throat as his hips began to carefully thrust. Jungkook must have known that you were awake and not sleep-sucking his dick, but he wasn’t making any obvious noises.

(The aforementioned kink alive and well, folks!)

You heard him shudder and felt his fingertips skim over your cheek and clavicle. Probably to check the distance. His right leg must have been hovering over your body (you appreciated him not kneeing you in the boob, thank you, very kind), with his left knee by your right shoulder. You started curling your tongue back and forth as he moved, keeping your head still, and Jungkook gasped (a little too loud, pfft), being slightly rougher about it as your throat closed in around his twitching cock. He was mumbling something (useless prayers, your name, fuck me, the usual), and you still hadn’t moved your limbs yet, keeping the illusion alive. All activity in the depths of your mouth, squeezing, swirling your tongue around, letting him pause and edge himself with your lips rubbing the bottom of the swollen head, before shoving himself back in with a whining hiss, surprisingly not too deep, giving a whole new meaning to the term night sucker.

(Insert eyebrow wiggle here.)

His breathing was deepening, taking himself to the edge again, probably enjoying his full control of the pace as he filled your mouth over and over again, slow, deep, almost lazy, reaching his full girth and hardness.

This was when you let him know you were actually awake.

Because you grabbed his ass and jammed his cock all the way to the base, his balls smacking into your chin.

“Gah!”

You heard his palms smack into the headboard (or wall?) and, without giving him a moment to react, you extended the tip of your tongue past your lips to lick his balls, raising the back of your tongue to cup his cock and press It repeatedly against the back of your warm, tight throat.

“Woah, h-hey!”

You tipped your head back and took him deeper. Circled around his balls, leaving them wet, slippery, and tingling. His gruff, half-asleep moan drifted up to the ceiling, mixed with an exasperated whimper.

“I was… I was s-supposed to be catching you off guard… Now you’re just showing off!”

(He’s not wrong.)

You lifted your torso a bit, twisting, and rubbed your breasts against his thigh, sending sparks all throughout your torso. (Mmmm.) He was all tensed up and hard (heh) from maintaining his position above you. You knew he could feel your hard nipples because you heard the snack of his fist against the wall and his defeated groan, his head falling forward.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Jungkook was hot – er, ahem, ran hot. While being trapped between his (very sexy) legs was (very super) arousing, the summertime night heat was being exacerbated by his (very hot) body (you get the point), so you lowered back down to your pillow, kneading his incredible ass (won’t start again but, man, did you love his obsession with working out), nudging him to start moving again.

Thus, you comfortably enjoyed him face-fucking you, providing plenty of tongue action in your own right, his balls smacking against your chin with each thrust, with your spit sticky on your skin.

(Didn’t think that though, huh. Oh well.)

He kept a steady but intense pace. Since he led the movement, you could focus every muscle in your mouth – loose and soft around the length, lips tight, tongue roughly stimulating all his favorite spots, just under the head and along the underside, your saliva providing that frictionless slip, and then you felt his body shift.

His hand was moving.

A startled yelp stifled by his cock vibrated in your throat as his fingers slid down your stomach. His gasps hiked in pitch, and you curved your hips towards his touch, folding one of your legs to raise your lower body, and then his searching fingers grazed over your slick, dripping pussy, bringing the fire.

(And setting the night alight, iykyk.)

The human body could do a lot of creative things in the name of horny. Awkward body positions could be made comfortable by depraved adrenaline, and that was exactly what was happening right now, since there was no way in hell you were going to complain about Jungkook burying two fingers into you and sloppily rubbing your throbbing clit with his thumb. Not that you could say anything at all with him relentlessly thrusting his full-mast dick into your mouth (mhm, you just gushed down there, oh yeah, you felt that), rapidly building up his orgasm, deeply, slowly cutting off your air.

You could hold your breath a little longer.

(You could, in the name of lewd!)

And you were losing yourself in the pleasure, his fingers pumping in and out, fast and powerful, the wet slaps obscene, rocking your hips to his hand, tilting your head back as you sensed his body tensing up, his sounds ceasing into mute ecstasy and then.

“F-Fuck, yeeeeeees!”

He exploded (like… dynamite!), filling the back of your mouth with way too much cum (damn, his internal factories been working overtime), thick and heady and intense. Delicious. He stopped moving, soaking in the bliss, and you didn’t have a moment to swallow because you were too preoccupied hitting your own high, arching your spine, your eyes rolling back, your spasming pussy sucking in his fingers, sweat sticking to the top of your chest.

On instinct, you swallowed.

Too fast. Jungkook whined, pleading and desperate. Evidently, he seemed to figure out that you couldn’t control it since he didn’t react violently, only hitting the wall again (rest in disturbance, neighbors), screaming behind closed lips. You drew back a little, ghosting your tongue over the head, gently, and he moaned, drawn-out and wanton, clutching the headboard like a lifesaver as he was drowning in heavenly euphoria.

Wait.

His fingers were still stuffed into your pussy.

That meant he hit the wall with his forehead.

(Bro, you good?)

You couldn’t ask, but you patted his thigh to get his attention. After a moment of slow thrusting, you felt him try to move away (you sucked a little harder and Jungkook yelped at the oversensitivity,), and so you let go, only to be slapped in the face with his wet, half-hard cock.

“Ow.”

“Serves you right,” Jungkook shot back, sounding utterly drained. He still hadn’t moved his fingers from inside you. “How’d you wake up so fast?”

(‘Cause you’re not subtle, my lovely dummy.) “Mmmm, guess my mouth knows what to do when you put your dick in it.”

“Sus.”

He was stroking your wet pussy.

“What are you doing?”

“Touching your pussy, duh.”

You shifted your eyes and saw the fingers of his free hand wrapping around his hard cock. “Um.”

“What?”

“Nothin’, I was just thinkin’, ya know, I’m not very involved here.”

You were mocking his Busan accent and Jungkook growled, shoving another finger into you to express his irritation (wink wink). You didn’t react much except for grinning and spreading your thighs open more.

“Aren’t you sleepy? I’m thinking about your feelings.”

You were trying not to laugh at his poor attempt to be somewhat deadpan. Pretty difficult considering he was jacking himself off while fingering you. You clenched around his fingers and Jungkook hissed, whispering under his breath, again, and you did it again, fuck, feels so fucking good when you do that, ugh, and the fake spat was forgotten. Your hips rising, your hands fanning over your breasts, toying with your hard nipples, for you to melt and for him to watch, hotter, your chest tightening, biting your lip hard, the sting of pain deliberately delaying your rapidly building orgasm.

“Open your mouth, quick–”

You slid down and he shot thick, warm streams onto your tongue. Gasping and shuddering, those big eyes staring down at the amount (quite a lot, damn, proud of him) and you kept your cum-covered tongue extended, right up until you came onto his three fingers stretching you out, leaning your head back to let his orgasm hit the back of your throat as the first intense waves overcame you, strong flinches resonating up to your chest and head, swallowing and clamping your thighs shut around his muscular forearm.

A suspended, elated moment as you came down, gradually relaxing.

“Hah… fuck… uh…?”

Your tongue lazily snaked out and covered the tip of his softening cock, licking it off.

“Mmmm… ah, yeah…”

“How long you been planning that?” you asked without opening your eyes, squeezing his arm.

“I didn’t plan it.”

You could believe that. Jungkook didn’t plan shit. “Hmmmm…!”

“I swear!” He sounded like he was pouting. “I just happened to wake up really horny.”

This was not news. However, you continued to play dumb. “In the middle of the night?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“HMMMM!”

“What?! You’re naked!”

(Wait a second. Hold your oxen.) Your eyes snapped open. “Where are my panties?”

“Eh, I dunno.”

“Jungkook! You can’t just hide my panties whenever you want!”

(Yes, he can.)

“Uh, yeah, I can…!”

(Sigh.)

Your boyfriend’s teasing voice was sing-song and freaking annoying.

You shot up, and Jungkook was laughing, his short hair stuck up every which way (his bedhead was somethin’ fierce, so cute), backing up, and you saw your underwear on his nightstand, prompting a brief but rather titillating naked wrestling match. You lunged over him and Jungkook grabbed your waist, dragging you back with a prissy nuh uh, and you squirmed and twisted (probably turning him on, yup, you heard him moan a little just now), pawing for your panties. Somehow you hooked a leg over his shoulder, streaking a smear of your still-wet pussy over his built chest, and you attempted to sit on him. Repeatedly. Jungkook wasn’t making it very easy.

“Ow, damn, I worked out my chest today, come on!”

(If you insist.)

You stuck your tongue out to the biggest peepers glaring at you from below.

Then you got a great idea.

Brillant, really.

You sat on Jungkook’s face.

His big eyes shot open even wider and you had a moment of pre-nut clarity, since (um) your legs were a bit askew and you were half-crouching over him like a gremlin (not the hottest look), but in less than a second, Jungkook had his hands on your ass and lifted you up, planting your trembling pussy firmly onto his hungry mouth, shoving his tongue inside you. You gasped, clutching fistfuls of the sheets for some sense of stability. Meanwhile, your man was in a different dimension, groaning loudly under you and making your insides vibrate with his sound, jarring for a moment before you forgot whatever it was that had surprised you, oooh, damn, you couldn’t remember for the life of you what the heck you were worried about, too busy grinding onto his nose like a mate in heat.

(Ah… well, let’s not go there for today. Uh.)

Your panties were within reach, but you didn’t care, throwing your head back and moaning as you felt his tongue glide all over, rubbing against your clit, sucking on it noisily, more for effect than for pleasure, making you laugh, and then you melted into his hands, rocking your hips forward.

The palms of his hands pushed against your abdomen, and you realized his (big) nose was having trouble breathing (serves you right!), but after a moment of resisting on purpose, you leaned back, snickering at the gush of hot air washing over your crotch, his low moan trapped in his chest. He pinned your thighs in place, and you flexed them, feeling the power in his hands, shivering in delight at the sensations of his closed lips and swirling tongue, precise and careful and better than you remembered it. You pressed your hips into his mouth and he got the hint, putting more strength into it, there, ah, fuck, yes, Jungkook, clenching your core to hold yourself up.

Hey, you worked out too! (Okay, yes, it’s a stretch but we gotta take the small wins where we can.) Your ass was going to get sweaty at this rate (see!) due to how warm Jungkook was getting (oh…), but you sacrificed for the greater good (cumming on his face), consumed by the harsh rhythm of his tongue, closing your eyes, blanketed in lust-drunk darkness, your muscles tensing, clenching your jaw.

“Mmmm, yes, Jungkook, yes…!”

Strangely you could only now really feel the press of his two lip rings in the dip of your thigh, but perhaps that was because you were forcefully gripping his head and pressing your throbbing pussy into his mouth, moaning, your torso flinching strongly, throwing yourself forward with a gasp, another wave of your orgasm shooting up from between your legs, spreading all over your shaking chest and through your arms. Aaaaaaah. The high wound down, dissipating all over. Your limbs were giving the consistency of fruit jelly.

Delicious.

Actually.

You could use some bingsoo right now, to be honest.

Fuck, it was hot.

You let out an exhilarated exhale, lifting your hips (someone was smacking your thigh, how odd), and Jungkook gulped lungfuls of air, groaning, running his tongue up and down between your legs as you reached over and snatched up your underwear.

Truth was…

You had indeed been jostled awake to Jungkook fumbling around with your panties earlier. Even lifted your hips to help him out. You had known damn well what was coming. Ten minutes of him laying down next to you, his hand over your pussy, calmly caressing the outer lips. Allegedly, he innocently liked to touch your bits because your pussy was pretty. He just wanted to hold it before he went to sleep. Uh huh. Yeah, okay. Even if that was true (it was, how sweet), inevitably, his lizard brain would overcome him (and that it did) and you would soon end up in a compromising position (in this case, his dick in your mouth, mhm, talk about a midsummer night’s dream). If you hadn’t wanted it, you would have stopped him, but (not gonna lie) his dick was a very tasty midnight snack.

It was the weekend, so might as well give into the voices.

(He was probably getting you back for all the times you shook him awake at three in the morning to ride his hard dick, as he should. We’re all unhinged in this house.)

You got off him and Jungkook complained immediately, only to be shut up by you throwing the hand towel on your nightstand at him.

“You’re sweaty!”

“Whose fault is that?!”

“Yours, you horndog!”

“I didn’t tell you to sit on my face!”

“Oh, like your big peepers weren’t BEGGING for it!”

“Well, SOR-REEEE that I think my future wife is hot, what a CRIME!”

He was following (chasing) you to the bathroom. You attempted to close the door in his face and he shoved his naked booty in there with you despite your protests of needing to pee.

“So what! I’m looking!”

“You’re such a creep,” you accused (fondly).

You sat down on the toilet and did your business with Jungkook pointedly staring at you and you pointedly staring back. He was wiping down his shoulders. In the bathroom light, you could see his black hair was slightly damp from sweat. His forehead was glistening, droplets beaded on his skin. His pecs were indeed looking especially delectable today. You stared harder. He twitched and did the same, his big brown eyes making him look extra psycho. He raised the towel just a bit, and you jumped for the toilet paper.

“EY!”

You smacked his tattooed forearm. “Wipe your face!”

“This is the best part!”

“You’re gross,” you snapped, somewhat annoyed but also too used to it (this was the definition of being too comfortable with each other), finishing up neatly and quickly, flushing with a glare before getting up to wash your hands. “What weirdo stands there when a girl is going to the bathroom?”

He looked extremely offended and pouty. “Um, your future husband?”

“My future husband is a creep,” you chirped annoyingly, rinsing off your hands and drying them off.

“As I should be,” Jungkook shot back. “How else will you know I love you?!”

“By being, I dunno, nice and wholesome?”

“I am wholesome! That’s why you put up with me!”

You flapped your hands in mock exasperation.

“What would you do without me?”

Jungkook clasped a hand over his chest, all hilarious dramatics, putting on a solemn expression.

“Be full of cum and empty of heart.”

He placed the back of his hand over his forehead, pretending to sob. You fell into him in roaring laughter, wrapping your arms around him. He immediately showered you with kisses amidst giggles, the towel around his shoulders, flicking his sweat on you (freaking annoying), and you couldn’t ask for a better man. Jungkook could propose to you with a goddamn tempura onion ring and you’d say yes. You were only complaining to complain. It was fun to bicker knowing full well neither of you meant it.

That was how you knew this love was true and perfect.

(See, look at us, a wholesome lovey-dovey couple!)

You both had to spend several minutes standing in the apartment naked, enjoying the air-conditioning, wondering out loud if your neighbors heard anything, asking each other if, hm, maybe a house should be in the works at some point? The living room couldn’t always be Jungkook’s personal gym (yes, it could, he liked to work out while watching television and you weren’t gonna stop him). Anyway, you two might need space, later, just in case.

“You know you’ll have to control yourself if we end up having kids.”

Jungkook made a face of mock disgust. “They’ll have to know how they were made eventually.”

You facepalmed.

(We’ll have to work on it. Future you problem. Future you was a sucker. For Jeon Jungkook. Gross.)

--

masterpost