#Yep. We share this now.
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C.C.'s soul (or most of it) gets in Michael's body. (Yeah, he does took over the body sometimes.)
They communicate through dreams.
Probably already thought by many, but who cares!?
#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf au#michael afton#dave afton#(or whatever you name him.)#c.c. afton#Yep. We share this now.#Forced Bonding au#FB au
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The Spatort fandom is no joke, jesus christ.
Right now there are 1744 fics in the Leo/Adam tag
Found the first great author. BOOM. 156 fics. Wow. That's impressive!!
Found the next author. 144 fics.
The third I found, has over 200 under their name...
Da fuq?!?! Like, I'm used to a few authors carrying small fandoms... But this is insane!
#I've read so many fanfics in the last few days#Haven't watched one episode so far :')#And by now I'm afraid#My partner is very confused. Usually he gets the general gist of fanfics. But Tatort fanfics... He doesn't get#It's okay honey#You read for plot. I read for feelings and character studies. We don't enjoy the same things#No it's not just like a tatort episode only written out#There's a lot of bed sharing. Yep.#Pssst I love all of you#Also like... I genuinely enjoy these German works. Which is rare#I know a lot of German speaking English reading will know how much this equals a lottery jackpot.#(never ask for my first German fanfics. Never)#tumblr is my diary and you can read along
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me: wow this is piece actually turning out pretty good! also me, 5 mins later: wow i literally cannot draw to save my life.
#mozzythoughts#idk bro it's an up and down kinda day#also i was refilling my copics (woooo finally got them refills!!) and i spilled all over my hands skbjdsvkvdjsb#good thing i was smart enough to refill them on my bed!!!#yep that's me#resident genius 😌#i'm trying digital painting#not for the first time#but i'm really trying to LEARN it for the first time#rather than giving half-efforts that end up like That One Ladrien Piece We Do Not Speak Of lol#if you go look it up now on my blog i will frown at you from afar!!!#anyway this piece is going pretty well!! at least after a lotta finnegaling#idk how to spell that sry lol#but it's for my og story so i probably won't share it here
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It's that time of the month now and Aly is the most affected and honestly he was terrifying but everything is okay now cuz we ate leche flan :3 The god has been appeased.
#aria rants#its like such a new experience too cuz aly is the most chill out of the three of us. he has a lot more patience than me and vita combined#but this morning he was like-- more strict and serious and was just overall terrifying that we were like: whoa thats new from you#and he was like: hormonal changes... i think its that time of the month already. and the thing here is that it hasnt shown on our body yet#so i was like: really? hours later and yep there it is. and aly became even more terrifying he was just: yaknow ill just be in the back#resting. so it was just me and vita going 👀👀 at each other and i was like: whoa... scary... meanwhile vita: god is dead again#and i remembered that i still have my share of leche flan in the fridge so i went: oh yeah i wanna eat leche flan!#which perked aly right up and now hes happier. aly is like: everything is made better with leche flan
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So, anyway, I say as though we are mid-conversation, and you're not just being invited into this conversation mid-thought. One of my editors phoned me today to check in with a file I'd sent over. (<3)
The conversation can be surmised as, "This feels like something you would write, but it's juuuust off enough I'm phoning to make sure this is an intentional stylistic choice you have made. Also, are you concussed/have you been taken over by the Borg because ummm."
They explained that certain sentences were very fractured and abrupt, which is not my style at all, and I was like, huh, weird... And then we went through some examples, and you know that meme going around, the "he would not fucking say that" meme?
Yeah. That's what I experienced except with myself because I would not fucking say that. Why would I break up a sentence like that? Why would I make them so short? It reads like bullet points. Wtf.
Anyway. Turns out Grammarly and Pro-Writing-Aid were having an AI war in my manuscript files, and the "suggestions" are no longer just suggestions because the AI was ignoring my "decline" every time it made a silly suggestion. (This may have been a conflict between the different software. I don't know.)
It is, to put it bluntly, a total butchery of my style and writing voice. My editor is doing surgery, removing all the unnecessary full stops and stitching my sentences back together to give them back their flow. Meanwhile, I'm over here feeling like Don Corleone, gesturing at my manuscript like:
ID: a gif of Don Corleone from the Godfather emoting despair as he says, "Look how they massacred my boy."
Fearing that it wasn't just this one manuscript, I've spent the whole night going through everything I've worked on recently, and yep. Yeeeep. Any file where I've not had the editing software turned off is a shit show. It's fine; it's all salvageable if annoying to deal with. But the reason I come to you now, on the day of my daughter's wedding, is to share this absolute gem of a fuck up with you all.
This is a sentence from a Batman fic I've been tinkering with to keep the brain weasels happy. This is what it is supposed to read as:
"It was quite the feat, considering Gotham was mostly made up of smog and tear gas."
This is what the AI changed it to:
"It was quite the feat. Considering Gotham was mostly made up. Of tear gas. And Smaug."
Absolute non-sensical sentence structure aside, SMAUG. FUCKING SMAUG. What was the AI doing? Apart from trying to write a Batman x Hobbit crossover??? Is this what happens when you force Grammarly to ignore the words "Batman Muppet threesome?"
Did I make it sentient??? Is it finally rebelling? Was Brucie Wayne being Miss Piggy and Kermit's side piece too much???? What have I wrought?
Anyway. Double-check your work. The grammar software is getting sillier every day.
#autocorrect writes the plot#I uninstalled both from my work account#the enshittification of this type of software through the integration of AI has made them untenable to use#not even for the lulz
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ghost getting himself a cute, soft girl he doesn't talk about much but is clearly obsessed with and price just thinks it's nice he's finally settled down, approves of the home he's made for himself, definitely approves of the one he's taken for himself.
soap asks kyle if he's seen you and he says, "yep. lovely bird he's got tucked away in her little dollhouse. makes great food, too." soap swears there's a subtle shift in his tone when he says "lovely", a hint of something deeper that flickers in his eyes for just a moment. soap simply sucks on his teeth, letting it slide. (although he knows that kyle's always been one to appreciate the good things in life.)
interest gnaws at him, a persistent itch he can't scratch. price likes you just fine, as does kyle. well what about him? he decides to bite the bullet and goes to simon with a knot between his brows, the corners of his lips tugged downwards. they've shared clothes, bullets, beds. if the other two got to meet you, why can't he?
"ya can come over for dinner on tonight. she'd 'ave my neck if she didn't formally meet ya anyway."
soap then asks, out of genuine curiosity more than anything else, if simon would have kept you in the dark from him hadn't he brought you up himself.
"ya meet 'er when i want ya to, boy, and not a moment before." the tone he takes is unmistakeable. his words are a command, not a suggestion, and soap instantly knows to not push further.
soap nods. "ah'll be there."
"course ya will. she'd be terribly disappointed otherwise."
yeah, he'd hate to have that.
soap sits in the living room, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the cozy place. with a full stomach and an unfastened belt, nursing a glass of kentucky. he can't remember the last time he ate that well or that much.
maybe it's the alcohol that loosens his tongue, or the fact that he wishes he also had a sweet little thing to keep at his side just like simon's doing with you now, but the thoughts he's been mulling over all evening since he first saw you tumble out of his mouth.
"while ah can attest to yer taste in sweethearts, can't say much about your alcohol. bourbon, LT?" he says, chest warm.
simon's arm tightens around your hips, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh. he shrugs, completely unbothered by the backhanded compliment. "can't be perfect in everythin', can we, sergeant?"
soap's cheeks burn furiously hot when you come to his defense with a smack of your palm onto simon's chest. "be nice to johnny. he's got a face that make up for some of his other flaws."
the teasing lilt in your voice unashamedly gets his southern blood pumping. he can't help it if certain things stir when someone as pretty as you look at him like that. soap swirls the amber liquid gently in the glass while keeping his limpid eyes on you, not even trying to hide the fact that his gaze hasn't wavered since your cheeky little comment.
you then whisper something in simon's ear, your cupped hand not even half the size of his head and soap has to rearrange himself from the outside when your teeth catch your bottom lip. simon looks up at you then, eyes heavy and half lidded, and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.
"'m not sure, love. you'll just 'ave to ask 'im yourself. go on."
you open that sweet mouth of yours, but simon cuts you off with a decisive wave of his hand. "no. you know how to ask for things."
your reaction to that is visceral, and you're on your knees faster than his alcohol-muddled brain can comprehend. don't look down 'er shirt, don't look down 'er shirt, don't-
"johnny, will you touch my pussy?"
he splutters at your question, completely taken aback, but it seems you're not done just yet.
"hands to yourself, sergeant. tha' not all."
you pout at simon, one that earns you a look that promises consequence, but do as he says.
"will you touch my pussy, johnny? pretty please?"
#this got away from me sorry yall!!!#yeah i had so debated having ghost be like nope pricentaught ya better than that but#simon seems the type to get things done on the first time#either you learn or your arsecheeks learn#something will give soon enough#price says he's coming back for seconds tomorrow#kyle gets his on saturday#all for one strikes AGAIN i'm afraid#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#x f!reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#soaps shaken after in the group chat like yall uh yall got dessert too or-#simon ghost riley smut
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Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>
Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?
He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.
What're you? A cop?
Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.
Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.
But see, here's the THING.
The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...
Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.
There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)
He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!
Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.
That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.
Poisonous, though.
They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.
Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!
Who's Coffee Is This?
Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!
You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.
He's shouting.
People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.
Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!
He TACKLES the man of steel.
RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!
And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.
He'll move in a moment.
When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.
The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.
They never do.
And now he's nearly killed Superman.
@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dc x dp prompt#minji's writing#killer coffee au#weston family brew#will make you see god or meet im
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Patience Wears Thin
Summary: Logan’s flirty behaviour has you thinking he’s just being sarcastic. But when his attitude changes and his grumpiness intensifies, leading to him avoiding you, you confront him, only for him to finally snap. Based on this request.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: Reader’s oblivious, mild language, sexual tension, slight jealous!logan, making out, hickeys, oral sex(m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), creampie, (semi) public sex (you’ll see what I mean), no use of Y/N, pet names (darlin’) — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!
Word Count: 2.9k
Mars speaks… It's been a while since I’ve posted but here we are!! Thank you for the request, this was kinda tough for me to write and didn’t really turn out how I wanted it but I hope it meets your expectations! The reader is a mutant but her powers aren’t specified. Any and all feedback is always appreciated!
Masterlist
You were used to Logan’s gruffness, but lately, something had changed. At first, it was little things—him hanging around more often, offering to help with tasks that didn’t need his strength, or staying close by even when you were just making coffee. You noticed the way his hand would brush against yours when passing you something or how he’d rest his hand on your shoulder a little longer than necessary. Despite all of his actions, he was still cold around you, seemingly never able to escape his own grumpiness.
One evening, as you were getting ready for a date, Logan wandered by your room. His mood was clearly off as he knocked leaned against your door frame, his eyes closed and head tilted down. When you greeted him, he slowly looked you up and down. His expression shifted from frustration to shock as he took in how stunning you looked.
“Damn,” Logan said, his voice cold and deep, if you didn’t know him, you would’ve sworn he hated you. “You look incredible. Got a big night planned?”
You glanced up from the mirror, surprised by his comments. “Oh, I have a date tonight,” you replied with a smile, still adjusting your dress.
Logan’s eyes darkened slightly as he processed your words. “A date, huh?”
“Yep,” you said, focusing on your reflection. “I’m just trying to pick the right outfit.”
He pushed himself off the door frame, his gaze still fixed on you. “You don’t need to be worried about impressing anyone tonight, darlin’. Trust me, you look incredible.”
You laughed, thinking he was just being his usual flirtatious self. “Thanks, Logan. But it’s just dinner. Nothing too serious.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, and he took a step back, his demeanour now distant. “Right. Well, have fun.”
You smiled at him, not noticing the shift in his attitude. “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”
As you left for your date, Logan watched you go, his face a mask of frustration and disappointment. The knowledge that you were going out with someone else hit him hard, and his mood darkened.
You were left puzzled by his sudden change in behaviour. However, in Logan’s mind, if you were going out with someone else, you clearly didn’t want him, so why should he put effort into a losing game?
But you didn’t think much of his compliments, chalking it up to Logan trying to be supportive. Until one day, you noticed something different—he started avoiding you.
It began with him skipping out on the usual training sessions you shared. Then, he stopped joining you for movie nights in the common room, always coming up with a vague excuse that didn’t make sense. He’d disappear for hours, not even leaving a trace of his familiar scent behind. The final straw was when he didn’t show up for your breakfast dates (well… that’s what they were to him), a ritual he never missed. It was confusing, and you couldn’t figure out what had changed.
You asked him once, in passing, if something was wrong. His answer was clipped, dismissive. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, darlin’.”
But you were worried. His behaviour was off, and no matter how much you replayed your interactions in your mind, you couldn’t pinpoint what had triggered this sudden shift.
A few days later, you walked into the kitchen to find Logan grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. Relief washed over you—this was the first time you’d seen him in days without him immediately bolting. But when you greeted him, he barely grunted in response, not meeting your eyes.
“Logan, seriously,” you said, trying to sound casual but unable to keep the concern out of your voice. “What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me.”
His jaw clenched, and he didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the bottle in his hand. “Just been busy.”
“Busy?” You frowned, crossing your arms. “Too busy to even say hello?”
He looked up at you then, his eyes hard. “Yeah, busy. I don’t have time for games, alright?”
“Games?” you echoed, thrown off by the accusation. “What are you talking about? I’m not playing any games, Logan.”
He let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head as he pushed past you, brushing your shoulder as he went. “Forget it.”
That was it? He was clearly upset, but he wouldn’t talk to you about it. It didn’t make sense. You stood there, staring at the spot where he’d just been, confusion and hurt swirling inside you. Logan was the last person you expected to act like this—especially toward you.
A few more days passed, and the tension between you only grew. Logan’s avoidance became more blatant, and every time you tried to approach him, he’d find a way to leave before you could say anything. You started to wonder if you’d done something to upset him, but every time you asked, he brushed you off with a noncommittal grunt or a sarcastic remark.
It was driving you crazy.
Now you were sitting alone in the common room, you and Logan somehow being the only two in the mansion with everyone else out on various missions and overnight school trips. As you attempted to watch a movie to take your mind off things, Logan’s absence gnawed at you. He was always here for movie nights, even if he’d just sit silently in the corner. The emptiness of his usual spot was glaring, a constant reminder that something had shifted between you.
You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to confront him, to find out what the hell was going on.
When you walked into the gym, your eyes immediately found Logan, his muscular form sitting on a raised bench, sweat glistening on his skin. He didn’t acknowledge your presence, focusing on his workout with an intensity that made your stomach twist.
“Logan,” you called out, your voice firmer than you felt.
He paused, setting the dumbbells down with a heavy thud before finally looking at you. “What?”
“What is your problem?” you demanded, stepping closer, not giving him a chance to escape this time. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, and I want to know why.”
Logan’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat off his face. “Maybe I’m just tired of tryin’,” he muttered, his voice low.
“Trying what?” You crossed your arms, frustration boiling over. “Logan, you’re not making any sense. You’ve been acting like I did something wrong, but I don’t even know what that is!”
His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place—anger, maybe? But there was something else too, something deeper that made your heart race.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he growled, stepping closer to you, his presence overwhelming.
“Get what?” you shot back, refusing to back down even though his proximity was making it hard to think straight.
Logan huffed, his hand running through his hair in a rare display of frustration. “I’ve been tryin’ to show you, but you’re too damn blind to see it.”
“Show me what?” You were at your wit’s end, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.
His eyes bore into yours, intense and unyielding. “That I want you, darlin’. I’ve wanted you for a long damn time, and I’m sick of you not seein’ it.”
You stared at him, stunned into silence. This was the last thing you expected him to say. Logan—gruff, no-nonsense Logan—wanted you? The thought was so far from anything you’d ever imagined that you couldn’t even process it.
“You…you want me?” you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the frustration in his eyes palpable. “I’ve been tryin’ to show ya, but you keep thinkin’ I’m just bein’ a grumpy bastard.”
You blinked, completely floored by his confession. “Logan, I…I didn’t know. I thought…”
“Thought I was messin’ with ya?” he finished for you, his voice rough, almost bitter. “That’s why I’ve been avoidin’ ya—figured if you couldn’t see it by now, I was just wastin’ my time.”
The weight of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. You hadn’t seen it, not because you didn’t want to, but because the idea that Logan could feel that way about you seemed impossible. And now, standing here, with him staring at you like you were the only person in the world, you realised how wrong you’d been.
“Logan, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest. “I didn’t know. I never thought…”
“Don’t apologise,” he cut you off, his voice softer now, but still edged with frustration. “I’m just done waitin’, darlin’. I can’t keep doin’ this—dancin’ around it, hopin’ you’ll figure it out.”
You took a shaky breath, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to think. “What do you want, Logan?”
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a way that made your knees weak. “You, darlin’. I’ve always wanted you.”
Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, rough and demanding, as if he was trying to make up for all the time lost in that one kiss. The force of it stole your breath, your hands automatically reaching up to clutch his shoulders as you kissed him back just as fiercely.
Logan’s grip on you tightened, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing your lips until you parted them, letting him in. The taste of him—smoke, whiskey, and something unmistakably Logan—filled your senses, making your head spin.
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his breathing ragged, his pupils blown wide with desire. “Still think I’m jokin’?”
You shook your head, your heart racing, your thoughts scattered. “No,” you breathed out.
“Good,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours before he started kissing his way down your jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. “’Cause I’m gonna show you exactly how much I want you.”
His mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin before he bit down gently, making you gasp. Your hands fisted in his shirt, needing something to hold on to as his hands moved to your thighs, lifting you and moving to sit on the bench. Your legs desperately straddled him, pulling him closer.
Logan’s hands were everywhere—sliding under your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist, skimming up your ribs, his touch igniting a fire in you that you hadn’t realised was there. He was careful, almost reverent, despite the rough edge to his movements, as if he was holding himself back from completely losing control.
When his hands found your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric of your bra, you arched into him, a whimper escaping your lips. He growled, the sound low and primal, as his mouth found yours again, his kiss fierce and demanding.
You could feel the hardness of him pressing against your core, the friction sending waves of pleasure through you, and you couldn’t help but rock your hips against him, seeking more.
Logan’s response was immediate, his hands gripping your hips as you ground against him, his mouth devouring yours as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You were lost in the sensation, in the heat and the intensity of him, and it was all you could do to hold on.
Just when you thought you might lose yourself completely, Logan pulled back, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild as he looked up at you. “Tell me to stop,” he rasped, his voice strained, as if it was taking everything in him to hold back. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
But the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. You shook your head, your voice breathless as you whispered, “Don’t stop.”
Logan let out a low, feral sound, his lips crashing against yours again as he ripped off your shirt. His patience had worn thin, and now there was no turning back. As your lips roughly moulded together, tongues battling for dominance, your hands slid under his tank-top, brushing over his abs. You pulled away, taking off his shirt, jaw dropping at the sight of his glistening body from the sweat of his workout.
“Holy shit, you should be shirtless more often…”
He didn’t respond, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. Your hands trailed down his chest, fingers sliding down his happy trail. Climbing off him, you dropped down to your knees in front of him. He raised his hips as you pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, his dick springing out and slapping against his stomach.
You didn’t give him time to process what was happening as you immediately licked a stripe up his dick before taking the head into your mouth, tongue brushing against the tip, making him throw his head back against the bench and groan.
Your hands gently massaged his balls as your mouth focused on the head of his cock, gently sucking as his hand moved to gather your hair into a make-shift ponytail. You lowered your head, taking more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks.
Looking up through your lashes, your eyes met with his while you began to move your head up and down faster, your hands touching whatever couldn’t fit into your mouth. You continued this until your jaw was aching and his dick was twitching in your mouth.
He began to gently thrust into your mouth, making you gag as he hit the back of your throat. One of your hands slid down into your shorts, rubbing your clit before pushing a finger into your dripping pussy.
“Fuck, so good darlin’,” he grunted as you moaned around him, slipping another finger into yourself.
“If you don’t stop now, m’gonna cum, wanna feel you ‘round me.”
He pulled you off of him, revelling in your dishevelled appearance. You stood up, and pulled off your shorts and panties. You reached behind you, unclipping your bra, letting it slide off your body. His eyes trailed up and down your body admiring you. You bit your lip at the way his eyes shined with something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on but you never wanted him to stop looking at you like that.
You silently moved to straddle him, pulling him into a slow kiss as your bare core grinded against his cock. One of his hands wrapped around you, trailing up and down your back as you both sat there, grinding against each other. His other hand reached down and grabbed your hip.
You raised your hips as you reached for his cock, positioning at your entrance before slowly sinking down onto him. You leaned forward and he fell back against the bench and buried your face in his neck, letting out a simultaneous moan as you stretched around him. You stayed still, adjusting to his size, panting into his neck, making him harder than he thought possible.
Once you were ready, you slowly raised your hips before sinking back down onto him. His hands moved to grip your hips as you began to ride him, gently helping you. You kissed him roughly, moaning into his mouth as his hips thrust up to meet yours.
The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the loud moans and groans coming out of your mouths. In that moment, neither of you cared where you were— that there was a chance someone could easily walk in on you even though it was just the two of you in the mansion. All you two cared about was the feeling of him inside of you and how you wrapped so tightly around him.
He let out a rough groan as your lips met his neck, biting into it when his hips met yours. Bouncing on his dick, you clenched around him, making him let out an almost feral sound.
“Oh fuck don’t stop, wrapped so tightly ‘round me, s’like you were made for me.”
“‘M all yours, Lo.”
“Shoulda never avoided you, shoulda just manned up and kissed you, ‘stead of waiting ‘round for you to realise that I want you.”
If you weren’t so desperate for him, you would’ve laughed but all you could do was moan and nod into his neck.
“‘M gonna cum, Lo.”
“Give it to me, darlin’.”
His hand reached to roughly circle your clit, sending you over the edge. You moaned out as a feeling of ecstasy overcame you and your vision went white. Your body slumped against his but his thrusts were relentless. As they got sloppier, you could feel his dick twitch inside of you, making you moan.
“I’m so close, need to cum inside you.”
His mouth pressed against your neck, marking you like a blank canvas for everyone to see later. He pounded up into you, his hand still rubbing your clit causing you to cum for a second time. You tightened around him, making him shoot his cum deep inside you.
His thrusts slowed, fucking you through it as you both panted, trying to catch your breath. His movements came to a stop and he titled his head back, letting out a deep breath.
You raised your head, looking into his eyes and laughing,
“I can’t believe I could’ve had this so much sooner if I wasn’t so obvious.”
Mars speaks… (again) woah that got… 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂
Tags… @pastelpinkflowerlife
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fanfiction#james logan howlett#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#hugh jackman#deadpool and wolverine#x men#smut#fanfiction#reidsworld
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Pervert! Gojo x Shy Fem Reader- then it's some SatoSugu x reader
Explicit- mdni - was an anon request, hope you enjoy the slutty content lol
Pervert! Gojo who loves your body so much, he has to grab your ass and tits constantly, he's got his hand right under your skirt, rubbing you over your panties as you're sitting at dinner with Shoko, Nanami and Sugu, and you're looking at him with wide eyes, hissing 'Satoru!' and he leans close, white hair tickling your cheek, and whispers in your ear- 'this is where you're weak'.
Pervert! Gojo who now slips his long fingers in your slick heat, making you tremble as you're starting to soak his fingers, as everyone is laughing and talking. But Satoru can't help himself from pumping in your gummy little walls, and you hope no one hears the squishing of your wetness.
Pervert! Gojo who answers the phone as Suguru calls, as he's fucking your tight pussy the next day, and you're trying to hold in your moans as his cock slams your cervix. 'ha- say hi to Sugu, baby girl' you suck in a breath, looking back and glaring at Gojo. 'um... h-hi, Suguru!' you cover your mouth, stifling your moan, and Suguru laughs softly 'you all having fun?'
Pervert! Gojo who laughs as he feels your cunt contracting, and he leans down to whisper in your ear 'aw, Suguru turning you on baby?' you shake your head nervously, but Satoru just shoves in deep and rolls his hips, and you can't stop the cry. 'oh...' you hear over the phone, as he realizes his best friend is fucking his girl. 'want a pic, Sugu?'
Pervert! Gojo who now snaps not a pic but a vid of your puffy lips sucking up his length. 'Satoru!' 'what baby, let him see your pretty pussy... ah- there buddy.' you're burying your face in the blankets in embarrassment, but also you're even wetter, so wet it's stupid. 'oh fuck...' Suguru says softly and you're a blushing mess 'you're a lucky man, Satoru. Can I stay on the phone?' you squeak at that.
Pervert! Gojo who next time has Suguru on video chat, as he strokes his big cock while Satoru is giving him a show of his cum pouring out of your abused little hole. 'look at that, her slutty pussy, ain't it so pretty Sugu?' he says, smacking your ass, and you shiver as you hear Suguru's moan. 'think I need to come visit' 'do you want Suguru to visit baby?' you just nod, earning both of their chuckles
Pervert! Gojo who now strokes his cock as he watches Suguru's long hair fall over your thighs, as Suguru's tongue is lapping at your pussy, fucking in and out of you as his dark violet eyes look up at you. You're tentatively touching his head, hips bucking up, as Satoru watches, sighing, 'use your fingers too, she loves that.' Suguru slides one in, and presses up, and you fall apart, as the pressure in your tummy rises 'there, there!' you cry out. 'She's so pretty, Satoru...' 'Isn't she? oh she's gonna cum! you gotta keep pressing... yep there'
Pervert! Gojo who after you cum, all over Suguru's tongue and fingers, has you on all fours, sucking his pretty cock, tonguing that precum out of his tip, as he watches Pervert! Geto lining his cock up with your perfect, slick cunt, and watches your pretty eyes look up at him, cooing 'pretty lil slut, be a good cock sleeve for Sugu, would you baby?'
Pervert! Gojo who moans as he sees Suguru's cock stretch your pussy, and Pervert! Geto moans out 'f-fuck... she's s'tight... mm, you feel s'good Princess...' to you, as you moan around Satoru's cock, and he glares then, narrowing his blue eyes. 'don't fall in love, dammit, Suguru I swear to god' and Suguru's balls are smacking your clit as his big hands press into your hips, moaning. 'too late, Satoru, pussy is too fucking good'
Pervert! Gojo and Pervert! Geto who are taking turns fucking your pussy and throat, as they both make you cum over and over, until Satoru is licking Suguru's cum out of your pussy, and you're sucking yourself off Suguru, as he cups your face, smirking up at Satoru. 'we're gonna have to share, don't we share everything Satoru?' and now you're stuck with TWO pervert boyfriends, but you can't really complain when you're cumming again, only for them to video it and send it to a disgruntled Nanami Kento.
Full Gojo fics of mine: Duke Gojo story here - Lawyer Gojo here - Yandere Gojo here - CEO Gojo here - Doctor Gojo here - Gojo Drabbles
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#satoru x reader#jujustu kaisen#gojo satoru#suguru smut#geto suguru#suguru geto smut#getou suguru x reader#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#gojo x geto x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#Pervy Gojo#Pervy Geto
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FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)
You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.
But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.
(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"
From the 404 article:
A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”
So please, go click that opt-out button.
(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"
Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?” Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”
It should make a difference! Go click that button.
(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"
This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:
This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.
And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:
zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form. cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.
So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)
Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)
(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"
I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.
Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:
The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes: • Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option. • Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs. • Private posts. • Drafts. • Messages. • Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted. • Post+ subscriber-only posts. • Explicit posts.
So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*
But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:
The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.
On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:
For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.
Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.
If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.
Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.
I hope this helps!
#tumblr#[tumblr]#third party sharing#openai#midjourney#chatgpt#ai art#ai#fyi#psa#anti-FUD#artists on tumblr#writers on tumblr#illustrators on tumblr#tumblr update#oh tumblr#hellsite (derogatory)#“opt out” no longer looks like a word#but still#opt out my friends#please#also if you want to leave tumblr i don't blame you but please remember to hit that opt-out button before you go
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✧.* #BABYVERSTAPPEN
synopsis: Max accidentally leaks the news of your pregnancy during an interview and he breaks the internet
before you continue- I loveee this # series so much!! if you enjoy then pls reblog and follow :)
✧.* the interview
—
—
✧.* Y/N’s reaction
You hear the front door creak open, and your heart skips a beat. Glancing up from your phone, you see Max walk in with a cautious smile, holding a tub of your favourite ice cream like a peace offering. The house feels unusually quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy you’re used to when Max comes home.
“Hey, love,” Max says, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension in the air. “I brought your favourite ice cream.”
You look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “Oh, so now you’re trying to bribe me with ice cream?”
Max winces at your tone, setting the ice cream down on the coffee table. “I thought it might help smooth things over.”
You sigh, putting your phone aside. “Max, do you have any idea how many messages I’ve gotten today? Everyone knows now. Everyone.”
“I know, and I’m really sorry,” Max replies earnestly, stepping closer to you. “It just slipped out. I was excited, and I didn’t think—”
“That’s the problem, Max. You didn’t think,” you cut in, crossing your arms and stepping back from him. “This was supposed to be our special moment. Our announcement.”
Max reaches out for your hand, his expression pleading. You pull away, your disappointment palpable.
“You’re in the dog house tonight, Verstappen.”
“Come on, Y/N, don’t be like that,” Max urges, his eyes reflecting genuine regret. “I know I messed up, but I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t help talking about how happy I am.”
Your resolve wavers for a moment, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “It’s not just about the announcement, Max. It’s about our privacy, our moment. You know how much this meant to me.”
“I do,” Max murmurs softly. “And I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
You shake your head, though your expression softens just a bit. “You better. But tonight, you’re sleeping on the sofa.”
Max nods solemnly, accepting his fate. “Alright, the sofa it is. But can we at least share the ice cream?”
You hesitate, then roll your eyes in resignation. “Fine. But just the ice cream. You’re still in trouble.”
Max smiles gratefully, relieved that you’re willing to share even this small moment with him. He retrieves two spoons from the kitchen and settles on the sofa beside you, careful to maintain a respectful distance, the mood swings were strong today. You sit together in silence, eating the ice cream slowly, each lost in your own thoughts.
As you near the bottom of the tub, Max suddenly has an idea. “Hey, Y/N?”
You look at him, a spoonful of ice cream paused halfway to your mouth. “What?”
“I know I ruined our announcement, and I feel terrible about it,” Max begins earnestly. “But how about this—you can be the one to announce the sex of the baby. However you want, whenever you want. It’s your moment.”
Your gaze softens as you consider his suggestion. “I like that idea. But you’re still sleeping on the sofa tonight.”
Max chuckles softly. “Fair enough. But at least we’re getting somewhere, right?”
You lean in and kiss his cheek gently. “Yeah, we are. Thanks, Max. This means a lot to me.”
—
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, yourbestfriend, landonorris and 1,357,147 others
yourusername guess the secrets out! (thanks max) baby verstappen we can’t wait to meet you 💘
tagged: @/maxverstappen1
view all 23,527 comments
yourbestfriend congrats!! so happy for the two of you ❤️
↳ yourbestfriend can’t wait to spoil her
↳ yourusername thank you darling! 💘
user1 hey, atleast max let you announce the sex 😂
user2 congratulations!! you’re going to be the best parents 🥳
maxverstappen1 so excited ❤️
user3 is max in the dog house? 😂
↳ yourusername yep.
—
—
✧.* the boys reactions
— Formula One Star Max Verstappen Accidentally Reveals Wife Y/N Y/L/N’s Pregnancy During Interview
By: Sasha, Rumour Radar
In a hilariously unexpected turn of events, Formula One champion Max Verstappen has found himself at the centre of a viral moment after inadvertently revealing his wife Y/N Y/L/N’s pregnancy during a live interview. The impromptu announcement has taken the motorsport and influencer communities by storm, and Y/N later added her own delightful twist to the news.
The Accidental Reveal
The incident unfolded during a press conference following Verstappen’s practice session. When asked about his expectations and what he was looking forward to in the new season, Verstappen, with his characteristic charm and ease, responded, “And for the baby to come too, the next season’s going to be busy.” The interviewer, catching the slip, pressed further, “Did you say baby?”
Max, realising his gaffe, was momentarily speechless. His face turned a shade of crimson as he stammered, “Uh, I mean…uh, no? Y/N is going to kill me.” This candid and unscripted moment sent ripples of excitement through the audience and quickly became the talk of the paddock.
Social Media Explosion
As soon as the clip aired, social media ignited. Fans, fellow racers, and celebrities alike flooded platforms like Twitter and Instagram with reactions, congratulations, and plenty of memes. The hashtag #VerstappenBaby soared to the top of the trending lists, making it clear that the news had captured everyone’s attention.
Fans and media outlets were abuzz with the news. In a move that was as swift as it was sweet, Y/N took to Instagram to confirm the delightful news. She posted a picture of a cake with pink filling and an ultrasound picture, accompanied by the caption, “Guess the secret’s out! (Thanks Max) Baby Verstappen, we can’t wait to meet you 💘.”
Max’s unintentional reveal and Y/N’s charming confirmation on social media endeared the couple even more to their legion of fans. Verstappen, known for his fierce competitiveness and composed demeanour on the track, showed a softer, more relatable side that resonated with many. His initial reaction, followed by Y/N’s sweet Instagram post, painted a picture of a couple who are navigating the journey to parenthood with humour and grace.
Messages of support
The Verstappen household, already bustling with the excitement of the F1 season, is now set for even more joy with the impending arrival of their baby girl. The couple, who have been private about their journey to parenthood, seemed to embrace the unexpected reveal with good humour. Max later took to social media, joking, “Lesson learnt! Next time, I'll leave the announcements to Y/N.”
As the F1 season progresses, Max Verstappen will have more than just his racing commitments to look forward to. The prospect of becoming a father has added a new dimension to his life, bringing a balance between his high-octane career and his personal life. This blend of professional and personal excitement has further endeared him to fans who now feel even more connected to his journey.
Despite the unplanned nature of the announcement, Max and Y/N have embraced the outpouring of support. A close friend of the couple shared, “Max and Y/N are over the moon about the baby. It wasn’t how they planned to share the news, but they’re thrilled with the love and support they’ve received and now laugh over the accidental reveal.”
Max’s teammates and rivals have also expressed their congratulations. Lewis Hamilton, Verstappen’s long-time competitor, commented on Y/N’s post, “Huge congrats to both of you! You’ll be the best parents!” Daniel Ricciardo, known for his playful camaraderie with Verstappen, added, “Can’t wait to meet Baby Verstappen! She’s going to be a little racer for sure.”
The new season
The unplanned revelation has certainly added a fresh layer of excitement to the season. Media outlets have been buzzing with speculation about how the impending fatherhood will impact Verstappen’s performance on the track. Analysts suggest that the new family milestone might provide him with an extra boost of motivation and focus.
For now, the spotlight remains on the happy news of Baby Verstappen. The couple’s playful and endearing approach to this new chapter in their lives has won them even more admiration and affection from their fans. As the countdown to their baby girl’s arrival begins, Max and Y/N are set to experience a whirlwind of emotions, balancing the thrills of Formula 1 with the joys of parenthood.
In the grandstands, on social media, and in the hearts of their supporters, Max and Y/N Verstappen are celebrated not just as a racing power couple but also as soon-to-be parents. The racing world waits with bated breath for more updates, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the newest member of the Verstappen family.
Stay tuned to Rumour Radar for the latest updates on this unfolding story and more celebrity gossip.
—
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula one smau#f1 smau#max verstappen smau#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen drabble#max verstappen social media au
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"I just hope that one day, we both can laugh about it, when it's not in our face, won't have to dance around it. Don't drive yourself insane. It won't always be this way" - Skin. Sabrina Carpenter (quote inspo)
Bakugo knew nothing about love. Well, that's what you thought when you first met him.
At the tender age of six years old, he had this habit of pulling you by your arm to drag you around when he wanted to show you something, his little fingers leaving marks in your skin.
When you were ten years old, he started putting his feet in your way so you would stumble and sometimes kiss the floor while he parted himself from laughter.
In the beginning of teenagers' age, thirteen, he used to put his arm on top of your head to make fun of you because he was actually getting tall while you were stuck in your pre-adolescence height.
At sixteen, he ghosted you.
Yep, that's what you read. He ghosted you because he felt this funny feeling growing in his tummy every time he saw you.
Katsuki never knew about love. You thought crying in your dorm because your best friend wasn't acting like your best friend anymore.
You actually believed it.
It all began when you two got into UA. He was excited, having someone to actually compete with? You learned a lot from him (almost against your own will), but after a few years, he considered you a fair opponent.
The feeling inside his guts happened instantly. One day, both of you were returning home from classes, in the train he was behind you, protecting you from all the people that were squeezing into their spots. A baby caught your attention immediately. She was smiling at you, and you couldn't help but make her faces, smile, and bat your eyes at that little baby, gaining a few giggles in return.
Katsuki found that amusing.
He started to see you with other eyes. Helpless eyes. That feeling that woke up one day to another got him desperate, pacing around, fighting with his own thoughts in a manic state.
He had never felt that before. He knew nothing about love.
So he did what he knew best. Ignore.
But we all know him, he isn't the kind of guy who can just let something (someone in this case) go...
He watches you from afar. He has studied your antics, your movements, how you express yourself with other people, with your classmates, with the teachers. He learned about you just by observing, and now he could easily read you. That was something that kept his mind at ease. Without talking to you, at least he could know what happened in your mind by just looking at you.
A few days later, you came down from your dorm with puffy eyes. He knew something was off. No one noticed because you made a pretty good job hiding it behind makeup, but he could tell, and he was about to figure out what happened.
You were preparing your breakfast. Something quiet shitty, Bakugo thought, but it wasn't his priority in that moment.
"What's wrong?" He asked directly.
He hasn't talked to you in months, so you were impressed that he decided to share space and air with you, let alone ask something so private.
"What do you care?" No one could blame you for your response. The bastard has ignored you after spending every day with you since you both were six years old. You didn't need his sympathy.
"I care," he said, leaning in the kitchen table, looking at your eyes. They were red and swollen but beautiful too. He had forgotten how you looked like up close. The butterflies in his stomach woke up instantly, but he didn't fight them this time.
"I'm not having a good week, that's all" you explained pouring some artificial cereal on your bowl.
He took that from you and exchanged for granola and oatmeal.
"I hate seeing your face like that. After class, I'm taking you to that ice cream shop you like, " he said nonchalantly like it wasn't one of the biggest gestures that he had done since you came to UA.
You couldn't help but smile. Maybe you could fix your relationship after all.
"It's winter, Katsuki," you stated, testing boundaries.
"Yeah, as if that had stopped you before" he rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead.
In the end, after he grabbed you by the arm and tossed you all the way to the ice cream shop, you came with the conclusion that Bakugo Katsuki knew about love in his own way and you were more than ready to explore that path alongside him.
Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.
#bakugo headcanons#bakugo x reader#bnha bakugou#mha x reader#my hero academia#bakugo smut#bakugou smut#my hero academy fanfiction#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#mha#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha x reader#bnha#boku no hero academia#bakugo katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou
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Your Friend Steve
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: it’s finally me and you, and you and me … just us, and your friend Charles
r/relationshipadvice
u/yourusername · 9h
My boyfriend (26M) and I (22F) cannot get a second alone!
The two of us have been together for a few years now. We met through mutual friends and really hit it off. He’s caring, thoughtful, and we have the best time together.
The issue is ... his best friend (26M) is ALWAYS around. And I mean always. We’ll be out to dinner and bestie will show up and pull up a chair. We’ll be cuddling on the couch watching Netflix and he’ll let himself in with the spare key and wedge between us. I swear this guy is like an overeager puppy sometimes.
The other day I came home with my boyfriend and bestie was there ... sleeping on MY side of the bed because he “got lonely” at his place. And don’t get me started on trying to plan a vacation for just the two of us. Without fail, bestie always finds out where we are and shows up.
I’m happy they’re so close and I’d never want to get between them or ask my boyfriend to pick. But his best friend is starting to feel like a third wheel in our relationship. I jokingly said to my boyfriend that at this rate, bestie will be part of our engagement and marriage too!
I could really use some outside advice. How do I kindly set some boundaries with my boyfriend’s overly-attached best friend? I want all of us to still be friends but the constant third-wheeling is getting to be a bit much.
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u/relationshipguru123 · 8h
Wow, this sounds really annoying and awkward! Hate to say it but your boyfriend needs to step up and set some better boundaries with his friend. As close as they may be, it’s not ok for him to let his friend crash your alone time constantly. It’s disrespectful to you and your relationship. If your bf won’t address it, you’ll have to be the “bad guy” and talk to the friend directly to give him a reality check.
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u/NeedMoreSpace · 7h
I feel you, OP! My sister deals with this with her husband’s best friend too. They even joked that the friend would be IN the delivery room when they have kids one day 😳 She finally sat down with her husband and told him that while she cares about the friend, she needs some lines drawn for their marriage’s sake. Maybe suggest setting one or two date nights a week that are just for you two? And no dropping in unannounced! Compromise is key.
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u/BFFboundaries · 5h
This behavior would drive me CRAZY! You need to put your foot down with your bf and tell him his friend’s constant presence is affecting your relationship. Then talk to the friend together to make it clear you just need some alone time as a couple sometimes. If they don’t respect reasonable space, it will breed resentment.
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r/relationships
u/DutchLion · 5h
Help! My best friend (26M) is cockblocking me without even realizing it!
I (26M) have been together with my girlfriend (22F) for a few years. She’s awesome — fun, hilarious, and crazy sexy. She puts up with my quirks and even likes watching sports with me. Absolute keeper!
The problem is, my best friend has NO boundaries. I love him like a brother but he has zero concept of personal space or alone time.
Just last night, my girl and I were enjoying some long overdue freaky time together, when who bursts through the bedroom door unannounced? Yep, my best friend. Turns out he “accidentally” made copies of my keys ages ago.
Before I can react, he’s jumped onto the bed between us asking what we’re up to. My girlfriend was mortified and hurried to cover up. There went the mood for the rest of the night thanks to Captain Cockblock!
That’s just the latest in a long string of intrusions. Double dates, surprise sleepovers in OUR bed, you name it. I’m going to have to lock down the apartment Fort Knox style to get any intimacy!
Don’t get me wrong, I would take a bullet for my best friend. But how do I politely tell him that constant third-wheeling is killing my game and giving me the most painful blue balls known to man? Is there a tactful way to set some boundaries so we BOTH stay sane and satisfied?
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u/CantUnseeThat · 4h
Dude, I felt awkward just READING this! Major props to your girlfriend for being so chill. You gotta have a talk with your boy and set some hard lines. A real best friend would respect that your relationship needs privacy too.
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u/Locks4aReason · 3h
Your friend needs better boundaries yesterday. Sit him down, tell him you get he’s lonely but he can’t just walk in whenever, especially when sexy times are happening! Maybe suggest setting him up on some dates so he finds fulfillments elsewhere.
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u/needabroboundary · 3h
As much as you love your best friend, your personal life with your lady should be a priority over letting him run wild! Have a man-to-man talk and make it clear you just need some couple time a few days a week. Offer to schedule some designated bro time to keep that bond too. Gotta compromise.
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u/needspace321 · 2h
Don’t feel bad about setting some hard boundaries, even if it bruises his ego at first. True friends will understand. Explain you just need some regular alone time with your gf. Offer a standing weekly bro night to keep the friendship intact too. You need to have that balance!
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r/AmItheAsshole
u/PrinceOfMonaco · 3h
AITA for wanting to spend time with my best friend and his girlfriend?
Some background — my friend (let’s call him M) and I go way back to childhood. We’re basically as close as brothers. A few years ago he started dating his now serious girlfriend (we’ll call her Y).
Initially, I’ll admit I was worried M would drift away and our bromance would fade. But much to my delight, Y is awesome! She likes the same sports, laughs at my jokes, and comes to watch our competitions. Honestly it feels like I gained a sister!
Naturally, the three of us started hanging out constantly. I know me and M have always valued bro time together. But now Y joins our gaming sessions, I ride along on their date nights often, and I will even crash in their guest room after late nights! It’s been pretty great.
Or so I thought? Lately I’ve noticed them acting strange and tense around me. They barely react when I barge into their room or surprise them by their cars after work. Sometimes they pretend to be “busy” if I try making plans last minute.
I can’t figure out why though? Just the other day, I popped by to say hi only to have M rather sternly tell me I should “call before visiting from now on.” And I could swear I heard Y whisper about needing “boundaries” … whatever that means!
I’m starting to feel hurt they suddenly seem fed up with me! AITA here? Am I missing something? Someone help me decode these mixed signals!
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u/needboundaries101 · 3h
YTA. I know you value your friendship but your total lack of boundaries is overbearing. Your friend is trying to set reasonable limits without damaging the friendship but you’re oblivious to all hints. Surprising them and inviting yourself along all the time is inconsiderate. Give them space!
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u/respectrelationships · 3h
Soft YTA. I get you cherish the bromance and her friendship too. But constantly crashing date nights, unannounced visits, etc is cockblocking to the max! They likely feel too awkward to bluntly tell you that they need alone time too sometimes. Tone down the clinginess before you do permanent damage!
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u/flying_solo · 2h
NAH but only because you seem genuinely unaware your behavior is an issue! Most people would have picked up on the hints by now. You should DEFINITELY be calling ahead before visits or tagging along to closed plans. Give them a chance to say no thanks. Gotta let your bro spread his wings too.
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u/threesacrowd · 2h
YTA. You would lose your mind if your best friend was this invasive during your dates! When they make excuses or leave early, that’s NOT an invitation to join them unasked and uninvited next time! They’re just too polite to be harsh so I’ll spell it out — you have to give them personal alone time without taking offense.
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charles_leclerc
Liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, and 1,273,948 others
charles_leclerc happy third anniversary to my favorite couple ❤️
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maxverstappen1 thanks, mate!
charles_leclerc i’m going to pick up some dinner from that italian place we all like and i should be at your place in around 20 minutes
yourusername we really appreciate that, charlie. but you know … it’s our anniversary and we would like to celebrate alone
charles_leclerc i totally understand! that’s why i’m taking the food to go so we can celebrate alone with just the three of us
maxverstappen1 yeah but we want to ✨celebrate✨ you get me?
charles_leclerc you want me to stop and buy some sparklers?
yourusername what we’re trying to say is that we want to celebrate … in bed
charles_leclerc even better! your mattress is so comfortable and we can put some netflix on while we have a sleepover together
landonorris they’re literally spelling it out for you in black and white 💀
pierregasly mon ami, they’re trying to say they need some adult time tonight 😏 maybe skip the visit this once
danielricciardo how do i say this nicely … max and y/n are clearly desperate for uh, anniversary cuddles without you as the little spoon!
lewishamilton someone rescue my man charles from himself before it’s too late. praying the two lovebirds to get to celebrate properly tonight 😉
charles_leclerc of course we will all celebrate properly! i have champagne
roscoelovescoco read’s the room’s 🙄
f1wagupdates i can’t tell if charles is trolling them or if he genuinely doesn’t get it 😭
charles_leclerc what is there to get?
yourusername i give up 🤦♀️
yourusername … what flavor popcorn do you want for our sleepover?
charles_leclerc white cheddar, please!
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[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( tenth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .
୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.
୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro
୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , profanity , prostitution , drug and alcohol abuse , smut , allusions to hypersexuality , bisexual! toji
୨୧˚ an; okay there is seriously something wrong with my ability to tag people, certain blog names don’t come up when i search them it’s pissing me offfff SO SORRY if you’re on the tag list and you didn’t get tagged😣
୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji
Thunderous bangs against his apartment’s front door rouse Toji from comatose. He wakes with a sharp inhale, eyes screwing shut because the sunlight that flooded through the bars of his dusty blinds singed his retinas. There’s a beat of silence, one that makes Toji believe his guest has walked off, and he cuddles back into the sofa with solid intentions of returning to dream state, however those plans go up in flames when more aggressive knocking chimes. The man groans, fingers clawing into the scrappy throw pillow his face is currently buried into.
“Fuck off!” Toji growls. His voice is muffled and crackling with excess exhaustion. He is so not in the mood for company right now.
“Fushiguro cut the shit, I’m not playing with you today.” Ugh, that voice. “Open the damn door, don’t make me bust it down.”
More pounding, and the rusty hinges creak from the pressure of it. Given no other choice, Toji peels himself off his crappy little couch and sits for a moment, dragging a heavy hand down his face. There’s a half empty can of Coke perched on the coffee table, amongst a plethora of other trash, and Toji snags it. It’s lost carbonation, totally flat and lukewarm, but it satiates his thirst good enough.
The knob twists, clinking against the lock impatiently. “Untwist your panties, I’m comin’,” He barks before muttering Jesus Christ under breath. It’s no surprise to see Shiu Kong when he draws open his door, standing erect with his arms crossed in irritation. Toji scowls, “what do you want?”
Shiu knocks shoulders to his when he grants himself entrance, much to Toji’s chagrin. “So you are alive?”
“Still kickin’, yeah.”
Shiu stands in the middle of the living room, flitting over the unkempt scene. It’s a mess, littered with crushed cans and hollowed take-out boxes and dirty laundry. Heavy glass bottles lined the floor near the sofa, some filled halfway with translucent, amberish liquid, some bone dry. “I see you been busy,” the man inquired, sarcastic as all Hell.
Toji sighs. “Yep.”
“You should crack a window or something, man. It reeks like the inside of a flask in here.”
“I’ll do that,” no he won’t, “what do you want?”
Shiu scoffs at his gall, but Toji wants him out of his place as soon as possible. He knows why his handler has come to visit, it’s most likely a work thing. Fuck work. Fuck Shiu for barging in and interrupting his afternoon nap. Fuck his apartment for being embarrassingly filthy.
“You’ve been ducking my calls. I don’t appreciate that.”
“Y’know, most people would take that as a sign to fuck off.”
“I’m not most people, though, am I?” He takes a seat on the couch. Toji doesn’t follow suit, choosing to stay leaned against the wall. “I’m technically your superior.”
“You think that title means jack to me?”
Shiu ignores the attitude; he’s used to taking shit from Toji for the better part of a decade now. “It should.” Silence cuts in, and he leans down to pluck one of the thick bottles off the floor by its neck. Liquor sloshes around in the constraint of glass, and Shiu holds it up to the light and skims the label. “This is cheap shit.”
Yeah, it was stupid cheap. Toji swiped it off the clearance rack at the gas station around the corner from his complex. They started tagging the alcohol, made it more difficult to steal, so he exclusively bought the least expensive liquor he could find. “Don’t gotta be smooth. Don’t gotta be much of anything, s’long as it fucks me up.” He didn’t drink rum on a Thursday at 3:42 pm for the taste.
Shiu hums, looking oddly unnerved. Still holding the bottle, he jerks it up in a slight gesture. “What’s the occasion?” Followed by an awkward chuckle. Toji itches the base of his scalp, pushing down his bed hair.
“Dunno.”
He was just sort of… regressing. Backsliding into the open arms of his beloved vices. Day drinking again, sloshing himself into liquor-induced unconsciousness that puts him to sleep for days. He starts hitting the casinos more frequently, tapping into poker games and betting away money he doesn’t have because the adrenaline of it all is orgasmic. Drugs have weaved themselves back into Toji’s routine as well; he’s been snorting the pricey shit that gets him numb in the face and leaves that nasty taste dripping in the back of his throat. Shit he hasn’t fucked with since his wife’s death.
Well, he supposes he’s always been like this. Clinging onto some sort of substance to distract himself from the pain of being alive in a Zenin’s body, no matter how damaging or problematic it may be. His childhood looms over him, even as a grown man, and it’s so terribly pathetic to still be hung up on shit that happened over two decades ago. But he apologetically is. Toji is a pathetic, woeful piece of shit who is forever haunted by memories.
Distractions. They weren’t always mutilating. Not all of them tore apart his body and soul. Sometimes, they were beautiful.
His tongue twitches in his mouth, aching to curl around a cigarette.
Shiu huffs, setting the bottle back down near his feet. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah,” Toji nods curtly, licking at his dry lips. “I’m straight.”
“Right,” his handler responds slowly, entirely unconvinced. “You’ve been skimping out on your assignments. It’s fucking me over, Fushiguro.”
Toji hasn’t taken up a job in nearly three months. Not since the night he left your place and walked home in the pouring rain. It was funny—he hadn’t thought it was a bluff when you threatened to call the police. No, Toji expected his apartment complex to be swarmed with officers when he returned but… nothing besides crickets. That night was seared into his frontal lobe, every motion engraved and vivid behind his eyes. Still soaked to the bone, he melted into the couch and stared up at his water-damaged ceiling for hours before slumber pulled him into its embrace.
Toji hasn’t slept in his bed since.
“Oh, so that’s why you came to visit. Boss is cuttin’ your pay with me gone.” Toji smiles bitterly, then juts his lower lip out in a mock pout. “Aww, that must be so hard for you, I’m sorry. You can cry about it on the ride home in your fucking Bentley.”
“Hey asshole, this isn’t just a me thing. Your slacking affects both our paychecks.” Shiu rakes a hand through his gelled do, and Toji is acutely aware of the luxury watch glinting on his wrist. “I mean, shit, where have you even been getting your cash from lately? How have you been keepin’ the lights on in this shithole?”
That last question is a mystery to Toji, as well. Truth is, he hasn’t put a penny towards rent since he came back. Eviction was inevitable, he’d ride out the days he had left and then figure out what to do when he received his week’s notice. Only that pink slip of paper never appeared taped to his door. Surely, you weren’t still covering it… Not with the way you and him ended terms so roughly… But what the fuck else could it be? Toji wanted to ask you about it; wanted to use this entire situation as an excuse to contact you, but he couldn’t muster up the courage and resolve. Talking to you again sounded so fucking sweet, but so, so fucking painful.
Toji didn’t answer, and Shiu grimaced at his quietness. On the couch, Shiu shifted uncomfortably, leaning forward to rest his elbows over his thighs. “You’re not,” he struggles for a moment to find the words, squinted eyes drilling holes into Toji’s. “Tell me you ain’t whoring again.”
Sex was Toji’s grimiest form of escapism. He started fucking other people again.
Mostly women, with a few men sprinkled in between. Gender was irrelevant; genitalia didn’t matter much to him in the grand scheme of things, Toji only fucked casually for the sensation of a warm body to hold onto. Vying for satisfaction with a partner, competing for release; it became a damn near nightly procedure at this point. Scouring bars in the dark hours for any willing participant, then fucking one out in the filth of the public restroom. His sweaty back against the stall, or him seated on the lid of a toilet. It was gross, he was gross.
Again, Toji is silent, and it speaks volumes. “God, man.” Shiu holds his face, pinching his brow bone, maneuvering the muscles in his jaw. He doesn’t sound angry or annoyed, just disappointed, and it makes Toji feel unnaturally immature; like he were a child again, getting a scolding from the family’s housekeeper for accidentally knocking the vase at the center of his dining table over and shattering it on the ground. “That’s—you can’t be doing this again.”
“Yeah well I don’t exactly got the resume for a nine to five, now do I?” He was forever tainted by his past. No employer in the country would hire a man with four jail sentences, drug misdemeanors, battery charges, no education, no work experience… the list of Toji’s fuck ups could fill a dictionary front to back.
“You cannot go back to that.” Shiu looks pale in the face. I’m making him sick to his stomach.
“Money is money. Don’t hear you whining when you got me playing assassin for you, but God forbid I suck a coupla’ cocks for cash.” Toji pushes off the wall and stalks towards the tiny kitchenette on the far side of this cramped living space; this conversation is irritating him, he needs something to quell his cotton mouth. “Fix your morals, then we can talk.”
Shiu’s argument was mind numbingly idiotic. Comparing slaughter to sex for money, the absurdity nearly made Toji burst out laughing. Sex never killed anyone.
He’s rooting around in the fridge. It’s practically bare, housing nothing more than a few take out boxes and some lager, but that’s alright. Toji tears a can of beer from the plastic six-pack ring, and when he pops out from the refrigerator, Shiu stands there with his hip against the small counter. “You’re self-destructing.”
The can cracks open. Beer carbonation pops and hisses. “Am I?” Toji sniggers, tossing back a swig. Shiu’s eyes flit to the beverage, nose wrinkling. Toji catches on and nods to the kitchen sink. It’s full of dirty dishes. “Faucet’s fucked. Water’s full of lead. This is the only drink in the house and I’m thirsty, so hop off.”
“You’re self-destructing,” Shiu repeats once more, not matching Toji’s humorous lilt. “I’m serious, Fushiguro. You’re off.”
“What do you want me to say to that besides fuck you?”
It grows quiet again. The air is warm and thick and rife with apprehension; it presses on Toji’s chest like a sleeping cat. “So what?” Finally, Shiu speaks. “That’s it?”
He shakes his head contentedly. “That’s it.”
“You understand this is going to be Hell for me from now on. You’re the best hired gun on my roster, the boss is gonna have my ass if you quit.”
Toji takes a long sip of beer. “You’re tough. You can handle it.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Shiu breathes, but there’s no real malice behind his words. “If you’re really serious about quitting, then fine. Fucking fine, I’ll—” He groans, massaging his temple, “I’ll handle it. But I’m telling you, this is the best it gets for guys like us.”
The best it gets is killing men. Leaving wives widowed, leaving kids fatherless. “Can’t be.” Toji feels nauseous at the thought. “There’s gotta be more.” There has to be. It’s the only affirmation that stops him from knocking back the whole bottle of vicodin in his bathroom medicine cabinet and calling it a night.
“This is how the world works. This is us being punished for being shitty people.”
Toji doesn’t have anything to say to that. He refuses to acknowledge it.
Shiu rubs at his nape, pushing off the counter. “Look, I only dropped by to get on your ass for playing hooky, wasn’t exactly expecting… all of this. But, uh,” despite their expansive acquaintanceship with one another, they never really got a hang of the whole sentimental bit. Shiu tries for a moment, mouth opening and closing a few times as the words die on his tongue, before finally settling on a long exhale through the nostrils. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, squaring his shoulders. “Just stay safe, would ya?”
Toji salutes lazily. “Aye aye.”
Shiu ducks his head in a wide nod. “Good, good. And uh, you got my number. So use it if you need to.”
Toji can tell that Shiu is trying to dole out formalities in the most unconventional way possible, so he helps him out by chuckling. “Get the fuck outta my house already.” Then, he drains the last few ounces from his can before crushing the aluminum in his fist, tossing the litter carelessly to the floor. He’ll get it later. Or not. Probably not.
“Yeah, okay.”
The hotel room is pitch black, not even the moonlight reaches through the window. Toji stumbles through the door first, dragging another person in by the waist. He kicks it shut with the heel of his boot. A woman—mid 20’s, pretty, about two heads shorter than Toji so he’s forced to crane his neck uncomfortably low when they kiss. Some random he found off an anonymous hookup app he downloaded, a consenting body three miles away for him to use. They coordinated a time and place—midnight at this shitty motel—which brings us to the present.
“Wait—” She struggles to speak in between wet kisses, patting Toji's bicep. “Wh—get the lights.”
He shakes his head. “Leave them off.”
Humidity stickied the air, clinging to his skin alongside sweat. He was coming down from something—some upper he popped hours prior to this—and because of that, a thin tremble rattled in his bones gliding through marrow. It’s so hot. He’s hot everywhere. It almost hurts, the heat.
She doesn’t put up much of an argument and takes his bruteness like a champ. Let’s him hoist her up and jerk her onto the stiff motel mattress, its blankets coughing a plume of dust into the atmosphere when their weights fell upon it. The scratchy comforter reeked of mildew and clawed back at the jagged callouses sitting in the divots of Toji’s weathered fingers when he grabbed handfuls of bedding.
He finds himself drafting comparisons in the moment, as he often did. Comparing his present to a better time; when he wasn’t slutting himself out to strangers for a fix of warmth or money, in this case the former. Your bed—God, no not tonight, he shouldn’t be devoting another night to you—smelled of a sweet concoction; your perfume, your laundry detergent, your shampoo, just you. There was no catching or pulling at his marred hands when he clawed at your bedsheets, no, the satin was gentle on his most rough parts.
“How do you want me?”
Toji blinked in succession, snapping back to cold reality. It was easy to lose himself in his delusions, muddying the lines between his dreamscape and actuality. Maybe the liquor finally seeped into his brain and this was neurosis’s way of knocking at the door. What a hilarious thing to think about. Toji slips a hand beneath her back and maneuvers the smaller body himself.
“Hands and knees.” He doesn’t want to look at her face.
Neither of them had even bothered to undress—this truly lacked all semblance of intimacy. Hands reach behind herself to inch suffocating denim down past the shelf of her ass, Toji thumbs down his own waistband just past the half-mast erection he sported. Everything felt robotic, it was a wonder he could even get hard in such a lifeless domain.
“You brought a con—”
“Yes,” he responds pointedly, eager for the talking to cease. He didn’t care to hear the whispers of a strange woman asking about whether or not he had protection on him. Of course, he had one. It goes quiet again. In the dark, dank air Toji kneels behind a wet, willing hole and yet all he can think of is you when he stroked himself to total hardness.
“Are you kidding me?” You gawked at him, disbelief evident in the obtuse look you gave him. He was splayed out on your kitchen tiles, ducked back beneath the sink, working at the drain pipe with a rubber-gripped wrench. His ass ached from sitting on hard floors for too long, back groaned under the pressure of being bent backwards, neck stiff and knotted thanks to the awkward tilt he was forced to wear, but seeing the awe scribbled on your face made the pain dull. “I had two handymen take a look, neither of them could find the issue. But you just knew exactly what to do.”
He had to laugh at the ridiculousness. “You’ve just got yourself a fucked supply line. Ain’t rocket science, I’ll get you right.” Toji slips out from the cupboard, looking up from the floor through pin straight bangs. Scratching a brow with his thumb nail, “you hired a couple of idiots.”
You retort in a groan, unable to thrum up a defense. “I’m the real idiot, I suppose. You think they were just trying to scam me or what?”
“Probably.” Back under the sink he goes, wedging the wrench around the circumference of the pipe. Toji’s forearm tenses with each crank of the tool, and he doesn’t stop until the bolt is fastened as tight as his strength can manage. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here.”
Though he can’t see your face at the moment, Toji hears your sheepish smile wrapping around each word. “My hero.” The sarcasm was eminent, tongue-in-cheek and you nudged his foot with your own. He kicks you back, heel to your bony ankle. “Hey!” You’re laughing now.
“Don’t get smart.” The drain pipe is secure, and he’s satisfied with his labor. Toji pulls himself to his feet, flicking the stainless steel lever on the sink’s tap with a knuckle. Crystal clear water flows out evenly from the faucet, collecting in a puddle at the basin, swirling down the drain. “Watch, look,” Toji points with his toe to the pipe under the cabinet, and he can’t quell the lofty smirk that tugs at scarred lips when there is no leakage. A successful repair; you look astonished for lack of a better word, and it gives the man a strange swell of pride hanging in his belly.
He did that. He was useful to you in a way he hadn’t been useful to anyone in a long while. He didn’t have to kill, didn’t have to fuck; fixing a leaky kitchen sink seemed beyond good enough for you. Foolish.
“I’m impressed.” You turn to him. “Thank you, Toji.”
You blathered on some more, speaking such things of how generous you planned on being in return. Something about money in exchange for the service, but Toji wasn’t really listening past your declaration of gratitude. It was just straightforward plumbing work of the most basic level, and yet you thanked him like he hung the stars in the sky.
“Sure. It was no problem.” And he smiled back.
That did it. He’s stiff, cock cradled in his fist with nothing less than a bruising grip. The condom was pre-lubricated and slick with odorless oil. Toji went through the practiced motions—hooking the ringed entrance over himself, pinching the tip of the condom, rolling it down to sheath every inch.
“Oh,” she gasped, lurching forward at the feeling of Toji’s head sliding up and down between her legs. Between her folds. She’s wet for him. Hips whined back into his groin with avidity. “Put it in.”
He slaps her with an open palm, connecting with an asscheek. She moans again and reaches back to paw at Toji’s navel with blunt nails. Free from any of that fancy acrylic stuff.
This time around was torturously similar to every other fuck he’s had in recent date. Everything is fast-paced and unforgiving, leaving not much room for anything else. Toji fucks to forget. He fucks to remember, too.
“Y/n,” he groans shamelessly. There’s a muffled reply, but it’s murky and muffled and unable to be understood because Toji had taken the humble liberty of holding his conquest’s face into the flat, fluffless pillow. He doesn’t care for a response, to be corrected or called a piece of shit for being so inconsiderate as to not remember her name. It was Mandy, he wants to say. Maybe Maddy? Who gives a fuck.
“That’s rude, you know.”
Toji pouts theatrically, forcing his bottom lip out in a way that has you playfully rolling your eyes. In his hand, a bundled ball of blanket that he’d stolen from you and hoarded to his side of the sofa. “Aww, I’m sorry.”
You sigh, throwing him a scathing glance. “No, you’re not.”
Movie night, or so you said. Sitting in the lonesome of your quiet penthouse just the two of you, watching some new finance documentary that just dropped on Netflix. It sounded absurdly boring to Toji, but you’d been keen on hyping it up all week long, offering him an invitation to view it together. Really, Toji couldn’t give a shit about a bunch of old guys talking crypto-bullshit for two hours straight—but it’s not like that’s what was really going to happen anyway. Toji had convinced himself this was all a ploy to snake your way into his pants at last. Naturally, he accepted your invitation.
“Just gonna have to sit closer then,” Toji posed gruffly, eyeing down the gap between your bodies on the couch. Sitting at opposite ends like a couple of children who still believed cooties was a prevalent issue. He nods toward you,“come on.”
“You’re terrible.” Despite that, you scoot closer, invading his bubble of personal space and snatching your half of the blanket back. Focused on the Netflix explore page, tongue poked out between two rows of teeth as you enter the title of the documentary into the search bar, you miss the way Toji observes you. Watching. Waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
For what? Who knows. Maybe Toji prepares himself for the inevitable moment when you slip a hand beneath the blanket and drift over to his thigh. Ready for that familiar squeeze at his crotch, the same tango so many other curious hands have danced in the past. But he’d let you proceed without any qualms. He’d encourage you.
“You’re bored, huh?” You chuckled halfheartedly midway through the film, pressing pause. Bored didn’t even begin to describe his pure disinterest.
Toji shrugs. “Maybe.” His arm rests on the back ledge of the couch, not quite around you, but so close that it might as well be. He shifts, touches his right thigh to your left one, and tilts his chin down. “Listening to a bunch of rich fucks whine about the stock market doesn’t exactly captivate me.”
Frowning, “that’s only surface level. The audience is supposed to infer—” Fake snoring cuts you off. Toji rolls his eyes shut, hanging his jaw to fake the most obnoxious slumber. His head lolls onto your shoulder. You don’t shy away from the physical contact. “You’re not funny.” He begs to differ, what with the way nasally snorts crack from your sinuses. The shoulder he presses his cheek to stutters with stifled dissipation.
“Stop movin’.” Toji nuzzles closer, facetiously dumping body weight against you if not for anything other than to hear the struggle squeeze at your throat when you wrestle to keep upright. “I’m comfy like this.”
“You’re never this affectionate.”
He’s not usually. But Toji’s hellbent on his premonitions. You want him. Everyone wants him. It’s been months of banter, months of getting spoiled by financial stability. You give him everything. You take nothing. His nose caresses the junction where shoulder and neck meet. Why won’t you just let him fucking give you something? You swallow hard. “Toji.”
“I constantly feel like I owe you. Like I got dues to pay.”
“Do I… make you feel that way?”
“All the fucking time.” It swelters beneath the blanket you share, and sweat starts to collect at the creases behind Toji’s knees. Bathing in the shared body heat, letting the convection hug his hips. He sighs, backtracking. “I know you got good intentions, ‘s what you keep telling me. And I like it, the way you reassure me. It’s… reassuring.” He titters into your neck, blinking slowly.
“Then why do you keep doing this?” A ginger hand graces the rear of his skull, not forcing him closer, but not tugging him away either. It just sits there, scritching as calm as your voice.
“Don’t know.”
This wasn’t the first time Toji succumbed to that shrill, little whisper in his head, the one that told him to spontaneously initiate closeness. It feels like common knowledge by now; to reciprocate in kind to any form of benevolence like a trained dog, because that was the expectation of him. To get on his knees and worship until bruises hammered into his joints and the hinges of his jaw grew sore from overuse. This transaction is familiar. It brings him a twisted sense of comfort, and you ripped it away. For better or for worse, Toji had yet to conclude.
“It’s like muscle memory.” That was the best way to describe it. Toji ached to give you the pleasure that felt long overdue in this affair. To offer some sort of repayment in the only way he knew how. Lips ghost over porcelain flesh—he’s never been so tempted in his life. Sex had always been the most exhausting and emotionally depleting aspect when he dealt with these kinds of unconventional financial relationships, but now as he unfurls his candied tongue and laves a stretch from collar to jawline, Toji has never wanted to be inside of someone more. Deft fingers were quick to pull him back by the scruff.
You studied Toji with unreadable eyes. He stares back, wiping excess saliva from his fatty lower lip with a thumb.
“I don’t want this for us,” you speak up finally, meandering eyes roaming around his facial features. You look at his lips, then his nose, then between his eyes. “Are you listening? I’ll write it on my fucking forehead if that’s what it takes for you to understand.”
“What if I want it?” Toji breathes.
You’re shaking your head. “You don’t.”
Who the fuck are you to decide what he does or doesn’t want? And how fucking dare you be right about it. Because in all this build up—the panting, the heat, the licking—Toji hadn’t so much as twitched down there. It’s like his mind and body were completely detached, separate entities trying to cohesively navigate through an avalanche of generational trauma. Trying and failing miserably. He palms himself to confirm his limp appendage.
“Fuck.” A bucket of ice water dumped over his head, washing away the illusion of lust and leaving behind reality in its wake. What the fuck am I doing? “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Toji doesn’t really understand what you’re apologizing for. You’ve got no need to feel sorry when he was the one who threw himself at you so abruptly. But he doesn’t ask, either. It felt eerily nice to be on the receiving end of an ‘I’m sorry.’
You still hold his nape. The film is long forgotten at this point, set on the backburner, and dimmed with the Are you still watching? notification blanketing the screen.
“Your movie.” Toji cocks his head, beckoning towards the gigantic television pinned to the wall all without tearing his eyes from yours. “Press play.”
This has the beginnings of a coy smirk straining your lips. “I thought it was boring you?”
He shrugs. “It’s not so bad.”
And so you resumed the documentary, if not for anything other than to dissolve the serious tension that palpated in the air. You didn’t force Toji to explain himself, you didn’t hound him for answers about his hypersexuality. You didn’t distance yourself, you didn’t act appalled when his thigh brushed yours again. You didn’t pity him, you didn’t treat him like a child. But you did stroke his neck. You continued to laugh with him. You let him fall asleep on you that night and didn’t wake him ‘till morning.
You let him trust.
His orgasm doesn’t have any anticipation. It crashes down on him all at once, splitting down the notches of his spine and sending bouts of electricity zapping down to his curled toes, still encased in thick, mud soaked boots. She cries below, contorting in the direction of the pleasure, but Toji holds her down while he fills the rubber.
It’s unsatisfying.
“Oh my fuck—” The woman pants on her come down, trembling around him. She clearly enjoyed herself, giggling stupidly into the pillow now sopping with drool and tears. Toji pulls out with little grace, sneering at the viscous mess of bodily fluids slicking up his navel. Proficient fingers work the sticky condom off, tying the end in a balloon knot.
It’s gross.
He folds, dropping onto the bed beside her. Sweat glues bangs to his forehead. His chest rises, then falls, then rises again with exertion. Sleep threatens to rear itself, weighing down his eyelids.
It’s tiring.
The body beside him stirs, rolling on her side. “How was it?”
“Good,” he lies through his teeth for the sake of sparing feelings. She smiles, feeling over his chest.
“It was good for me, too,” she tells him like he asked. “Really good. Oh, also my name’s Maria by the way, not Y/n.” Maria chuckles like it was just a silly mix up.
She drags him into mindless, post-sex banter. Rambling on about workplace drama, about her two pet cats and about her shity landlord. Mindless rattling that falls on Toji’s deaf ears; he’s disassociated, lying face-up on the terribly hard bed, fixated on the grime weighing down his lap. When an opening arises, Toji hauls himself up and claims the shower.
An intense wave of queasiness materializes in the centerpoint of Toji’s stomach when he closes himself in behind the bathroom door. The aftermath always felt this awful—bitter and lonely and degrading. Toji takes a moment to just be, perching on the lid of the toilet with his head in his hands, swallowing down sickness lest he subject Maria to a concert of his disgusting gags if he retches into the bowl.
When Toji stands to fiddle with the shower handle, he becomes hyper aware of the weight in his sweatpants. There’s an awkward sag in the fabric, bunching around the object that sits heavy in his front pocket. His cellphone—he never bothered to remove it. Giving a sniffle to the air, Toji fishes out the device and taps the screen with little interest.
Oh.
He looks away. Looks at the sink, then the wall, then the glass door of the shower cubicle. Then back at his screen. Back at the very real notification that sits there idly, begging to be clicked.
Toji’s heart races at a perilous speed, something lethal for an old man like himself. He can feel the beat rumble his insides, blending everything up like a bloody smoothie.
Yielding, he clicks.
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Ex Boyfriend! Seungcheol – Jealous! Seungcheol — Synopsis: Where after a company get-together, you meet your ex-boyfriend, who wants to make you jealous. He just doesn't expect that your friend Joshua is ready to help you too. — WC: 3.4k — WARNINGS: Smut, angst, overstimulation, spit as lube, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, masturbation (m. and f. receiving), hair pulling, aftercare, eye contact, dirty talk and etc.
As you stepped into the office party, your heart raced.
You hadn't seen Seungcheol since the breakup, and you had been avoiding him whenever possible–like working in the home office for weeks. But now, you couldn't help but feel a mix of nerves as you spotted him across the room, surrounded by colleagues.
As you took a deep breath and plastered on a small smile, you noticed your friends Minji and Seokmin waving at you from a nearby table. You made your way over to them, grateful to have some familiar faces among the crowd.
"So good to see you!" Seokmin exclaimed, pulling you into a warm hug. "We were starting to think you wouldn't show up."
You huff and roll your eyes at Seokmin's remark, grumbling that you would rather be anywhere else. Seokmin and Minji exchange knowing glances as they catch sight of Seungcheol watching you from across the room.
Seokmin leans in, giving you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "He's still looking at you."
You grimace, trying to focus on your friends and the conversation at hand, but you can't help but feel his gaze burning into your back.
You continue chatting with your friends, but their constant glances over your shoulder start to draw your attention. Eventually, curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask them what's going on. However, they remain stubbornly silent.
Finally, you can't take it anymore and turn around to see what's caught their interest.
And there he is – Seungcheol, dancing with Eunji on the dance floor.
Your friends wait for your reaction, but they weren't expecting the sound of your laughter to echo through the room.
You chuckle to yourself, finding the situation utterly ridiculous and amusing. Your friends exchange glances, not quite sure how to respond to your sudden outburst.
"Did you just laugh?" Seokmin asks in disbelief.
Minji looks shocked at your reaction, wondering if you've lost your sanity or if this is all some elaborate joke.
As you continue laughing uncontrollably, you manage to sputter out a revelation between giggles.
"Guys," you whisper to Seokmin and Minji, "Eunji likes girls. Remember when she tried to ask me out?"
Minji and Seokmin exchange disbelieving glances, their jaws dropping open. "Wait, what?" Seokmin stutters.
You nod, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "Yep. She asked me out once, and I had to turn her down because I was with Seungcheol - secretly, of course."
You chuckle to yourself, realizing that Eunji isn't interested in Seungcheol at all.
As you laugh and share the joke with Seokmin and Minji, you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder. You turn around to find Joshua standing there, a curious smile on his face.
"What's so funny?" he asks, genuinely curious about the laughter coming from your small group.
As you try to stifle your laughter, a mischievous idea suddenly sparks to life in your mind, like a light bulb flickering to life. You look up at Joshua, a hint of playful glint in your eyes.
Joshua quirks an eyebrow, but before he can inquire further, you chime in with a question of your own.
"Hey, how come you're not dancing with anyone? Got any secret dance moves tucked up your sleeves?"
Joshua grins and stretches out his hand to lead you to the dance floor. You share a knowing wink with Seokmin and Minji, who smile incredulously, sensing the potential entertainment ahead.
As you accept his offer and step onto the dance floor, the music envelops you, and your bodies effortlessly start to move in sync.
Joshua leans in, a mischievous smile on his lips, and whispers, "I know what you're up to. Are you making Seungcheol jealous?"
"Do you intend to be my partner in crime for the night?" You ask sly.
"I'm all in." he assures you while chuckling. "I'll not only play along, but I'll even offer to take you home."
As you and Joshua lean in close together, discussing your plan, Seungcheol can't help but notice your proximity. The sight fuels his jealousy, and his fingernails dig into his palms, a subtle sign of his frustration.
As the night progressed, you found yourself at the bar, nursing a drink and enjoying the company of Joshua. The alcohol loosens your inhibitions, and you relish in the newfound friendship. Meanwhile, Seungcheol, consumed by jealousy, ignores the colleagues attempting to engage him in conversation, his gaze occasionally flicking towards you and Joshua.
As you follow Joshua towards the garage, you can feel Seungcheol's gaze burning into your back. He watches you both step into the grey car, and his resentment simmers beneath the surface. Every detail, from the grey car to your black dress, infuriates him. He clenches his fists tightly, hating everything about the situation, but most of all, he blames himself for letting you go.
As Seungcheol's mind raced with worry and speculation, he tormenting himself with the possibilities of what you were doing in that car with Joshua. Were you at the other man's home, or were you in the familiar surroundings of the home he knew so well? Had you kissed him, or even more?
The thought of it all drove him mad, and he could do nothing but pace around, trying to find a way to calm himself down and think straight.
Despite Seungcheol's torturous thoughts, the reality was much more mundane. After dancing and drinking together all night, Joshua had kindly offered to take you home. He left you off safely at your doorstep, and you went to bed with a blissfully empty head.
As you sat on the couch the next morning, sipping your cup of tea and idly watching a show on TV, you heard a sharp knock at the door.
Surprised, you set down your tea and padded barefoot towards the door. As you swung it open, your breath caught in your throat.
Standing there, looking disheveled and tired, was Seungcheol. His hair was tousled, and his eyes bore a look of exhaustion, but there was something different about him now. This time, he wasn't here with a box in hand. Instead, his gaze was fixed on you, intense and full of unspoken words.
As Seungcheol stepped into your home, his fingers firmly grasping your shoulder, he subjected you to a silent analysis. His eyes skimmed over your appearance, taking in the absence of hickeys on your neck, the tangle-free state of your hair, and the adorable pajama set decorated with cats – a favorite of yours when you slept alone.
"Where's he?" Seungcheol's question hung in the air.
You cross your arms, arching an eyebrow and responding with a question of your own "What are you doing here, Seungcheol?" He shuts the door behind him as you await his answer.
Seungcheol takes a breath, his gaze never wavering from your face. "Do you have any idea what you put me through last night?" he asks, his voice low. "Did you even consider for a moment how I felt watching you with Joshua all night?"
"Did you even consider for a moment how I felt watching you with Eunji all night?" You repeat.
You felt nothing more than pity that his little theatrics had lost its appeal too soon for you.
Seungcheol scoffs. "You're throwing that back at me? Really?" he says, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Despite your nonchalant manner, there was a hint of satisfaction in your eyes, knowing your performance had been more authentic than his.
His face twists into a frown, realizing that his attempt to make you jealous had backfired. "I watched you all night, seeing you dancing with Joshua. I thought –“ he starts, but you cut him off.
"What did you think?" you ask, your voice cold. "That I would come running back to you like a loyal dog? That I'd be so devastated by your display with Eunji that I'd run back into your arms?"
"You're different." The raw emotion in his voice catches you off guard, making you wonder what he meant. He continues, "Last time, you cried and clung to me, begging me not to leave you, but now... now, you're standing here, cold and indifferent, like you never loved me at all." "I don't understand," he murmurs. "How can you be so cold... so detached, after everything we had?"
"Everything we had?" you echo, a hint of disbelief in your voice. "Seungcheol, at some point, you'd rather hole up in your office all day than be with me."
"I broke up with you because I thought it would be better for you," he admits softly. "I couldn't provide you with the attention and time you deserved, and I thought ending it was the right thing to do."
A hint of irritation creeps into your voice as you reply, "And now you're here because I was enjoying myself with someone else?"
"Enjoying with... Someone else." His eyes darken, and you can see the flicker of possessive anger sparking within him at the mere mention of your time with someone else.
"Did you come here just because you can't handle the idea of me fucking with Joshua?"
The words have barely left your lips when he suddenly slams your body against the wall, his hot breath mingling with yours as his lips hover barely an inch from yours.
Seungcheol's breath is uneven as he speaks, his voice a low, husky tone. "I... couldn't bear the thought of you doing that–" he admits, his fingers curling fiercely into the fabric of your clothes. "with him."
The words trail off as he can no longer resist the magnetic pull between you, and he closes the gap, his lips capturing yours in a hot, desperate kiss.
Seungcheol deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily, as if trying to make up for lost time. He missed every inch of you, from the taste of your lips to the way you sighed in his arms.
Even the familiar scent of your house and the sound of your voice sent jolts of longing and nostalgia coursing through him. He needed to experience all of you, every aspect he'd been craving for so long.
Seungcheol swiftly bends you over the arm of the sofa, the urgency in his actions evident. You can hear the sound of his belt being undone, the click of the buckle echoing through the room. His movements are rough and impatient, consumed by the overpowering desire he feels for you.
He yanks down your shorts and panties in one swift motion, the fabric pooling on the ground. You hear him spit, the warm line of saliva landing on your pussy, making you squirm. Seungcheol's grip on your arm tightens as he holds it behind your back, keeping you in place.
"Stay still," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.
You can feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost unbearable as he lines himself up with you, his breath ragged with need.
Without any more warning, Seungcheol thrusts into you, filling you completely in one swift motion. The stretch is intense, and you can't help but gasp, your fingers digging into the arm of the sofa. His cock feels impossibly thick inside you, every inch of him stretching you deliciously.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Seungcheol groans, his voice laced with pleasure.
He begins to move, each thrust deep and powerful, hitting you in all the right places. The sound of skin slapping against skin, and the moisty sounds of your wet cunt, fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his moans. His free hand slides down your body, finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.
In that position, you could feel Seungcheol hitting that sweet spot again and again. The angle was perfect, and each thrust made you see stars. You sobbed against the couch, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body.
Seungcheol's lips brushed against your ear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "I always find it, don't I?" he brags, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. "Doesn't matter the time, the position... I always find it."
You can only respond with strangled moans. Every single thrust is so sharp, so deep, you feel like you're being split in half. Your walls clench around him involuntarily, heightening the sensation for both of you.
"Fuck, fuck," you stutter, your voice barely more than a whimper. "fuck this pussy... ughh, it's so good, please don't stop!"
Seungcheol pulls you by your hair, making you moan through gritted teeth. His chest presses against your back, the position making it difficult for you to moan loudly. His other hand flickers over your clit, his fingers moving so fast that your mind goes blank. Your legs quiver pathetically, unable to handle the overwhelming pleasure.
The intensity of his touch, combined with the relentless thrusting, sends you spiraling into anr orgasm. Your body convulses with pleasure, your walls clamping down around him as you scream his name. Seungcheol groans, feeling your tightness increase, driving him to the edge.
"That's it," he growls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Cum for me. I want to feel you creaming around this cock."
And you do. You lose yourself in the sensation, your body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.
Seungcheol wasn’t done with you yet. Just as you thought you couldn’t handle any more, he flipped you around. Your hips rested on the arm of the sofa while your upper body collapsed onto the cushions, leaving you in an awkward, yet perfect position for him. He knelt down, his face level with your dripping core.
You screamed from the sensitivity, your legs instinctively trying to close around his head. But Seungcheol held you still, his grip firm and unyielding. His mouth latched onto your clit greedily, sucking and licking with fervor. The sensation was overwhelming, your body convulsing with each flick of his tongue.
“Seungcheol, please,” you whimpered, the overstimulation making you tremble. Your legs quivered, desperate to close, but his strong hands kept them apart.
He was relentless, his tongue swirling under the hood of your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. You arched your back, pushing your hips against his mouth, needing more even as you felt like you were about to break.
His mouth was sloppy and wet, every movement precise and determined. You clenched around nothing, your body aching to be filled again, but he was focused on driving you over the edge with just his mouth. The intensity was too much, and you felt another orgasm building quickly.
“Fuck, Seungcheol,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. "G-good! Yes, yes, yes!"
He didn’t stop. He continued to devour you, his tongue working magic on your sensitive clit. Your cries grew louder, your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure became too much to bear. You were completely at his mercy, lost in the sensations he was giving you.
With a final, powerful suck, you shattered. Your body convulsed, a scream ripping from your throat as you came hard, your legs clamping around his head despite his attempts to hold them still. Seungcheol drank you in, his tongue never slowing, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you were left trembling and breathless.
Finally, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal.
Seungcheol moved, positioning himself above you, his heavy cock resting on your belly. The weight of it making you gasp, anticipation bubbling up inside you. He began to stroke himself, his hand moving up and down his slick, creamy shaft. The wet noises filled the room, mingling with the sounds of your heavy breathing.
“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. You obeyed, your eyes locking onto his. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to bear, but you held it, watching every move he made.
His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to touch himself, his hand moving faster. His mouth opened, releasing the filthiest moans you’d ever heard, each one sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. You could see the raw pleasure on his face, the way his body tensed and relaxed with each stroke.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Just like that. Keep looking at me.”
You did, your eyes never leaving his, even as your body trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm. The sight of him, so lost in his own pleasure, was almost enough to push you over the edge again. You could see every detail – the way his muscles tightened, the way his cock pulsed in his hand, the way his mouth fell open as he moaned your name.
His hand moved faster, the sounds growing louder, wetter. You could feel his cock twitching against your skin, and you knew he was close. The sight of him, so vulnerable and raw, was almost too much to bear. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips.
His moans grew louder, more desperate, and you could see the moment he reached his peak. His body tensed, his hand moving erratically as he came, thick ropes of cum spilling onto your belly. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you intense and unbroken.
Seungcheol's eyes fluttered closed as he stood still, his chest heaving as he regulated his breath. You watched him, feeling the warmth and intimacy of the moment settle over you like a soft blanket. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked at you with a tender, almost reverent expression.
Gently, he reached out and lifted you, his strong arms cradling you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. He adjusted your position, making sure you were comfortable before he began to carry you towards the bathroom.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. He always insisted on aftercare, claiming it was essential, and you couldn’t agree more. It was these moments of tenderness and care that made you feel cherished and safe.
As he carried you, you nestled your head against his shoulder, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby. The bathroom light flickered on, casting a warm glow over the room. Seungcheol set you down gently on the edge of the bathtub, his hands lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary, as if reluctant to let go.
He turned on the tap, adjusting the water temperature before filling a soft washcloth with warm, soapy water. Kneeling in front of you, he began to clean you with gentle, meticulous care, his touch light and reassuring. The warm water and his soothing touch eased the lingering tension from your body, leaving you feeling relaxed and cared for.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.
"I'm okay," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "More than okay."
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good."
As he continued to clean you, his movements were slow and deliberate, each stroke of the washcloth a reminder of how much he cared for you. When he was satisfied that you were clean, he helped you into a soft, fluffy towel, wrapping it around you with the same tender care he had shown throughout.
Seungcheol then quickly cleaned himself up before guiding you back to the bedroom. He pulled back the covers and helped you into bed, tucking the blanket around you before sliding in beside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
As you lay in Seungcheol's arms, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the events of the evening, you felt safe and loved in his embrace, and for now, that was enough.
You murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "We'll talk when we wake up, okay?"
Seungcheol tightened his arms around you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Okay," he agreed, his voice filled with understanding.
With that silent agreement, you both drifted off to sleep, the warmth and comfort of each other's presence lulling you into a peaceful slumber.
However, as the afternoon grows, the sounds from the city echoes, disturbing the quiet stillness of the room, your phone buzzes softly on the bedside table, jolting you awake. You reached for it groggily, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you squinted at the screen.
It was a message from Joshua.
"Did it work?" he asked, his words tinged with curiosity.
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you typed out your response.
"It worked."
#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt smut#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seungcheol smut#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x you#seungcheol#scoups smut#scoups x reader#scoups x you#scoups x y/n
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Hi, first of all I would like to say that I love your stories, they are very good. I had a story idea with Nicholas, where the character is invited by Vogue to make a video about her morning routine. Everything was going well until Nicholas decided to participate in this video. I would like something really cute and fun
❛ 𝐕𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez
SUMMARY, nicholas chavez’ girlfriend does her makeup tutorial on vogue but he accidentally interrupts.
A/N, i’m glad you enjoy my writing!! instead of doing morning routine; i did beauty secrets.
WARNINGS, none

As the camera starts rolling, Nicholas’s girlfriend smiles brightly, introducing herself to the viewers.
“Hey, everyone! I’m so excited to be doing my Vogue Beauty Secrets today. I’ll show you my go-to makeup routine, plus share a little about my upcoming projects,” she says, applying her foundation with practiced ease. “I love this part—it’s like the base for everything!”
She’s just reached her concealer when suddenly, Nicholas strolls into the shot, oblivious to the camera. Realizing what he’s done, he freezes and his eyes widen.
“Oh, sorry! Sorry!” he laughs, ready to step out, but she just shakes her head, laughing too.
She laughs, waving him over. “No, no! You’re here now; might as well join me!”
Nicholas grins, stepping in beside her. “Alright, guess I’m doing my Vogue Beauty Secrets debut!” He dramatically holds up an imaginary foundation brush and speaks in a mock-influencer voice. “So, what you want to do is dab, blend, and—”
She rolls her eyes, handing him a real brush.
He takes the brush, pretending to be very serious as he blends with exaggerated, delicate strokes. “See? It’s all in the wrist,” he says, swirling the brush with finesse.
She giggles, reaching for her moisturizer and eye cream. “Okay, since you’re here, I think it’s time we take care of your skin!”
Nicholas laughs, holding his hands up. “I’m the assistant! No one said anything about me getting a makeover!”
“Too late.” She dabs moisturizer onto his cheeks. “So, Nicholas here thinks he doesn’t need skincare. But, actually, hydration is key, especially after a long day filming.”
“Hydration is key,” he echoes, trying to keep a straight face as she smooths the moisturizer into his skin. “Next thing you know, I’ll be talking about serums and toners.”
“Exactly!” She grins, grabbing her toner and patting it onto his cheeks. “See? You’re practically a pro now.”
“And next up, let’s go in with a little blush for that… you know, healthy glow.” He reaches out as if he’s doing her blush, guiding her hand to the brush with exaggerated care.
“Oh, is that what it’s for?” she asks, smirking at his confident tone. “Yep. And you can trust me,” he grins, tapping her nose. “I’m totally a pro.”
Finally, she pulls out her lip gloss, about to apply it when Nicholas takes it from her. “I got this,” he insists. “You have to be very precise…”
Leaning in to apply it on her. Carefully, he sweeps the gloss across her lips, then steps back to admire his work. But instead of handing the gloss back, he leans in, planting a kiss on her freshly applied gloss, leaving a smudge.
She laughs, looking at her messy lips in the mirror. “You did my lips just to mess up!”
Nicholas chuckles, giving her a wink. “Can’t say i’m sorry!” With one last playful grin, he leaves the frame, and she shakes her head, laughing, as she reaches for her gloss again.
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