#and destroyed. right in front of my eyes.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Calm After The Storm

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> Tyler checks in on you after a tough tornado.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, little angst, Tyler dries Reader's hair, love confessions, kisses. Not Proof Read.

Even after two separate showers, silence, blasted music, and two hours spent alone trying to comprehend everything that had just happened, your ears were still ringing. 

Nobody had seen it coming. 

An EF-5 had hit the town out of nowhere. All the data had shown it being an EF-2 at the most, then the wind just seemed to keep building and building until it had destroyed everything and everyone in its path. 

Thankfully, the motel you and the other wranglers had been staying at was just outside of the town, so where you’d spent the night was okay. But for others…their homes had been torn from the ground completely. 

You, Tyler and the others had stuck around for as long as you could until Tyler called it a day. There was a huge Costco two towns over. You’d all go there in the morning and resupply before coming back. Until then, you all needed time to recover. 

Tyler had kept his eye on you. From the minute the tornado had started to grow, he saw the fear in your eyes. You managed to keep it together for everyone else. You always seemed to have that superpower. Put on a front for everyone else because if you panicked, then it would only make them worse. But not with him. 

From day one he’d seen right through it. 

In all honesty, he’d been there himself. Before he started bull riding professionally, he built up that same strength. “You don’t face your fears, you ride ‘em.” That’s what he told people when they asked if he was scared. 

He’d be stupid if he wasn’t scared. But that didn’t mean he had to hide from the things that scared him. 

And you definitely didn’t hide. 

Not at first, at least. He could already hear the excuse you’d give the others. You were tired, you had to update the rest of the data, you wanted to get a headstart, you’d fallen asleep and forgot to set an alarm. Whatever you told the team, they’d believe you. It was all plausible. And you would eventually get around to processing all the data by the next day. 

But Tyler saw the truth. You had a tendency to keep a distance from the rest of the team after a hard chase. And part of him didn’t blame you. He’d done the same once or twice over the years, just needing a little space for a while. 

But this wasn’t the time to be left alone. You needed someone. Whether you wanted to talk about it or not, you needed someone. At least to share a breathing space. 

So, after three hours of giving you space, hearing your shower switch on and off next door at least three times, he grabbed a spare shirt and knocked on your door. You didn’t come to the door. He heard your voice, but it was barely audible through the door. 

He waited a minute before trying the handle. The door clicked open right away and he popped his head inside. You were sitting by the wooden vanity on the opposite side of the room. You were dressed in some fresh clothes, but between the lack of heating in your room and your freshly washed hair, Tyler could see the goosebumps across your skin. 

“Hey, mind if I come in?”

You shook your head lightly before looking at your hands. “No, come on in.”

He nodded and entered before closing the door behind him. “You don’t have to say anything. We don’t have to speak.” He gripped the shirt in his hands a little tighter as he made his way over to you, his eyes going from the floor and up to you in the mirror. “But I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Okay.” 

Again, your voice was quiet. Tyler could see the mask falling and shattering on the floor right in front of him. 

You didn’t continue speaking, so Tyler took the lead. “I brought you one of my jackets. They’re a little thicker so…”

He watched you for a minute. You didn’t move until he got to the very back of you. “Come here.”

Taking your hand and helping you stand, Tyler gave you a brief smile. He shook his jacket open before holding it out for you. You turned around and he helped glide it up your arms and over your shoulders. 

Carefully, he untucked your hair as you turned around before he buttoned it up. 

“Thanks,” you said, quietly. 

Tyler smiled. “Looks better on you than me, anyway.” 

He fixed the collar, your eyes finally meeting his green ones. Then his thumb brushed at the ends of your hair. 

“You got a hairdryer?”

You were a little confused. “Yeah, but I can let it air-dry.” you let out a small laugh. “Don’t think I’ve got the energy to hold one up right now.”

Tyler shook his head. “You’ll catch a cold. Here, sit down.”

“Tyler, you don’t-”

“It’s a hairdryer. I think I know how to work one.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

Tyler smiled and nodded his head. “I know. But I’m not having you get sick on me now, Sweetheart. Sit down.”

You did as he said and watched as he moved across to your bathroom and found the hairdryer in a cupboard under the sink. You watched as he unravelled the cord, rounded you and crouched by your side to plug it in. 

“Heat protectant?”

You went to reach for it, but Tyler beat you to it. “Just relax.”

You smiled. And so did he. 

Laying the dryer on the desk for a moment, he sprayed the protectant across your hair, as well as under before running a brush through your hair to get rid of the knots. Each time he hit one, he’d grab a small fistfull of hair before holding it loose against your scalp to avoid pulling on your hair too much. 

Then he started the hairdryer. 

Running your hair through his hands as he did so, you felt yourself leaning into his touch and slowly falling asleep in your seat. Maybe you’d start asking him to do it more often. 

Eventually the hair dryer stopped and Tyler picked the brush up again and where you’d still find knots when you’ve brushed it, Tyler found none. The brush ran smoothly through your hair. 

“There.”

Tyler placed the brush down before sitting on the bench beside you, his back to the mirror. “Thank you. You know, you might have missed your calling as a hairdresser.”

He chuckled. “Thanks.” Then he looked at you. “How are you feeling?”

You sighed a little, “I don’t know. I didn’t even see it coming.”

“None of us did.” 

“I can’t even bring myself to look at the data,” you admitted to him. “I can’t step outside because I feel like the minute I do, everyone is gonna realise it was my fault. That’s if they haven’t realised it already. I missed something.”

Tyler shook his head and took hold of your hand. “It’s not your fault. Y/n, none of us saw that coming. And you didn’t miss anything. We all saw those numbers and we all took the chance. This job is only part science. The rest is part religion. Faith. Chance. Whatever you want to call it. We can rely on the data but sometimes Mother Nature decides to throw us a curveball.”

Tyler placed his hand against your cheek and tilted your head to look at him. “Nobody saw that coming today. And none of this is your fault.”

“Tyler, I was so scared. I thought…”

He nodded, his heart breaking as he saw the tears in your eyes and the shake in your voice. Pulling you into his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around you and just held you. One of his hands held the back of your head, smoothing your hair down. 

“We’re not going anywhere. You won’t lose us. You won’t lose me.”

Your fingertips dug into him a little harder at his last statement before your arms came up his body and you hugged him around his shoulders and neck. 

“I promise.” In his promise, he held you a little tighter, too. 

Less than six hours ago, a moment flashed across his mind as he went from looking at you across from the field to the building tornado. If neither of you ran fast enough, someone would have been lost in the tornado. 

“Sweetheart…” Tyler’s voice whispered softly as he moved his head back a little to look at you.

When you finally did look at him, he wiped the tears from your eyes and tried the already fallen ones from your cheek. “I promise.”

With his eyes on you, you saw the truth in his eyes. You both knew the dangers that came with your jobs, but he meant it. He meant his promise. So you nodded. 

You believed him whole-heartedly. 

And he nodded back, brushing the hair from your face before cupping your cheek once more and pressing a light kiss to your other. 

But as he pulled back, an idea flashed across his mind and it seemed to flash across yours, too. Because half a second later, his lips were pressing a light kiss to your own. Your hand gripped to his shirt a little tighter as you made a small noise with your mouth as he went to pull away. 

You weren’t ready to stop the kiss, because once you did, you didn’t know where you and Tyler would be. 

So, with you still in his hug, he held you tighter as he kissed you. By the time you’d both broken the kiss, you could still feel his kiss on your lips and his arms around you. 

You’d left an imprint on each other to last a lifetime. 

“We should get some sleep.” Tyler told you as his thumb traced your temple. 

“Stay with me?”

Tyler nodded before resting his forehead against yours. “Always.”

“Good.”

He leaned forward and peppered a soft kiss to your lips before standing, and bringing you with him. He helped you into bed first before switching off your bedside lamp, leaving his side on. Finally, rounding the bed, you heard the buckle of his belt before the fabric of his jeans fell down his legs, leaving him in his t-shirt and boxers. Leaving his jeans folded over the back of a chair, he climbed into bed beside you before pulling you into his side and switching the final lamp off. 

As you took a deep breath in, your senses were filled with Tyler and Tyler alone. From his shirt that you were wearing, to the man himself who held you in his arms, you finally realised something. 

The ringing had stopped in your ears and it had as much from the moment Tyler’s voice had rang through your room. 

With his arms around you, you nuzzled into his side finally letting your eyes close and letting yourself relax under his touch as his lips pressed a kiss to your head. “Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

Tyler hesitated for a moment before speaking, hoping you were still awake enough to hear him. “I love you.”

In the silence, you shuffled around a little until you were looking at him. You had a thousand questions, but they could go unanswered for now, because despite the questions, you already had your answer. 

“I love you, too.”

With his gaze on you, you felt your cheeks heat. You were glad the room was shrouded in darkness, but with his hand that came to hold your face, you were sure even if he couldn’t see it, he could definitely feel your blush. 

His thumb brushed across your cheek for a moment before he pulled you up by his bicep and held you against his body as he kissed you once again. It peppered out, until eventually you rested your head against his chest, hearing his quickened but steady heartbeat. 

That was how you fell asleep, and he kept his promise. Because when you woke up, you were still in his arms, his fingers flexing across your hip when you readjusted yourself at his side. 

[shanastoryteller]

The boy with the demon blood is always watching him.

His gaze had been alternatingly reverent and despondent before Lucifer’s rise. After, it’s cold, appraising, and only when Dean isn’t looking. It reminds Castiel of the few times that Michael has set his eyes on him and it makes the place on the back of his back itch where his wings would be. Lucifer’s vessel should not remind him of Michael. It’s not right.

They’re sitting in a diner, a cup of coffee in front of him that he has no intention of drinking, Dean is in the bathroom, and Sam is staring at him again, lip pulled back just enough that Castiel can’t tell if it’s a grimace or a snarl. He is not well versed in humanity, but he wishes for this to stop. It’s distracting. “What is your problem?”

“You,” Sam says bluntly, which Castiel had not expected. “I don’t trust you.”

“Because your judgement in this area is without reproach,” he says, surprising himself. It’s just that Dean is predictable. Understandable. Sam is not. It’s frustrating.

That look on his face is almost a smile. “Exactly. I trusted you in the beginning. You’re an angel, a being of good, who brought my brother back to life. Why wouldn’t I?” He shakes his head, a faint look of disgust on his face that Castiel is used to seeing there.

He thought Sam’s self recrimination was wholly centered on his role in releasing Lucifer. He does not know what to do with the realization that some of it is directed towards him. “I am still all those things.”

“No,” Sam says. “You’re the good soldier who left my brother to rot. I tried to save him and couldn’t. I nearly destroyed myself doing it. You could have saved him and didn’t. You could have prevented all of this if you’d pulled him out before he broke the first seal. But you didn’t, and then you left him there for another ten years, letting Alistair sink his claws into him.” He leans forward. “My brother was only useful to you broken. I’m not going to forget that again.”

Anger rushes through him. Dean is often frustrating. Sam is infuriating. “I was following orders.”

He realizes too late that he’s only confirming Sam’s assertions. To his credit, he doesn’t appear at all satisfied with the admission. “That’s why you and Dean get along, you know. Two good little soldiers in a pod that rebelled too late and are suffering the consequences.”

Sam has not spoken of Dean like this, has not been anything but accommodating and sorrowful to his elder brother since killing Lilith. His description of their actions sounds too much like Lucifer for Castiel’s comfort. They’re nothing like him. It is Sam who is the devil’s foil. “What are you, then?”

“An idiot,” he says. “You and Ruby are the same, manipulating us both to start this stupid apocalypse. I know you let me out of the panic room, Castiel.”

He goes very still. There are several defenses available to him, but all only confirm Sam’s assertion that he’s a good little soldier that rebelled too late, that he was as Ruby. Perhaps this is where so much of Dean’s frustrations around his brother come from. He is not right, but it is difficult to find the words to prove him wrong.

“If you were going to try and deny it, that would have been the time to do it,” he says dryly. “If you hadn’t, the apocalypse would have been averted. I can’t kill Lilith if I’m dead and even if one of you had done it, it still wouldn’t matter. Lucifer can’t puppet a corpse. Over before it begins.”

Castiel means to choose his next words carefully. Instead, he says, “You have not told Dean.”

Sam shrugs, looking at the window, his eyes tightening in pain. “He needs something – someone – to hold onto right now. It can’t be me, so it’s you. But I’m watching you, Cas. Manipulate my brother again, and I’m not going to care how useful you are in averting the apocalypse or what it’ll do to Dean to lose faith again.”

“Why can it not be you?”

He looks over at him, startled. It’s nice to be able to be the one to put him off balance for once. “What?”

“Why can Dean not hold on to you?” he repeats. Despite every attempt from heaven and hell to prevent just that, it seems to him that Dean is holding onto his brother more tightly than ever.

Sam’s expression shuts down, but not before Castiel sees the tidal wave of grief there. “You didn’t know him before hell. You don’t know what you took from him by leaving him there.”

He’s back on uncertain territory. It’s the only kind he ever seems to be in with Sam. “Is he very different?”

Dean does not appear overly different from an outside perspective. His personality and priorities seem roughly the same as they were reported to be before hell. Traumatized, perhaps, but it’s not as if Dean is any stranger to that.

Sam laughs and Castiel flinches before he can think not to. “Our father’s words haunted him, you know. That he had to either save me or kill me. In some ways, selling his soul for me was a relief. Not only was it a complete rejection of that order, but it meant that if I did have to be killed one day, he wouldn’t be the one to do it. Not that he ever would, because people have tried to manipulate him into it before. Me included. So I guess you can take some sort of pride in it, being the one who succeeded.”

Castiel regrets starting this conversation. He thinks that Dean cannot possibly still be in the bathroom and wishes he would return. “You are not dead.”

“If you’d left me in the panic room,” Sam says. “I would be.”

That is likely true.

“It was perfect,” Sam says bitterly. “Me, strung out on withdrawal, alone and isolated and hallucinating and dying. Dean with all of his worst nightmares confirmed. Except he’s faced that before and it still didn’t end with me dead. He needed a push. He needed a way to save me or kill me that wouldn’t be his fault, his hands, that he could drink and hide from. And leaving me to detox alone in that room did that, gave him an out that he told himself he could live with.” He tilts his head, mocking and sharp, and Castiel would very much like to stop seeing Michael in Sam Winchester’s face. “But you never wanted me to actually detox. Not with Lilith still alive when I’d need years of training to be strong enough to kill her without it. You didn’t want me clean. You wanted me twisted so far around that I’d be easy to control.”

Zachariah had wanted that. Castiel hadn’t known. He was just following orders.

Dean might accept that explanation. Sam never will. He believes blindly following orders to be a weakness. It’s difficult to argue against it when he’s right. If Castiel had not followed orders he did not understand, they would not be here. But following orders is all he’s ever done.

“I should have known better,” Sam says. “That’s on me. Dean played his part too, but he’s got enough to deal with right now.”

“You intend to let him continue blaming you,” Castiel says. Dean’s mistrust and anger hurts him. It’s easy to see. Here he has the information to rid himself of it, at least partly, but he’s keeping it to himself.

His mouth twitches into something that’s almost a smile. “It’s me or him. He went to hell for forty years for me. I can spare him this.”

Castiel tries to imagine Dean’s reaction if he uncovers how close he came to Sam’s permanent death, how it was something he chose and could have prevented and did not because of actions and assurances that Castiel gave him.

Sam is an abomination. He is, also, human, and no amount of demon blood down his throat is going to change that.  

“Before hell, Dean might have forced me to detox, but not alone,” Sam says softly. “He never would have left me to die alone.”

He searches for something safe to say, something to extricate himself from this conversation. What he settles on is, “You and Dean’s relationship confuses me.”

Sam laughs again. Castiel doesn’t flinch this time. “He pushes me to leave and then blames me when I do,” he says, exhaustion leaking into his words. Sam often looks tired. Castiel has never wasted time wondering precisely why. Perhaps he should have. “It never occurs to him that if he just stopped pushing, I’d stop leaving.”

A self fulfilling prophecy. The apocalypse was supposed to be like that, except that in the end heaven and hell had needed quite a lot of work to get it started. Destiny isn’t as easy as Castiel had been told it would be. “Why are you telling me this?”

It’s that cold, assessing glance again. Comparatively, it’s almost comforting now. It’s better than the grief. It must be exhausting, mourning a man who’s right in front of him. “So you know to watch yourself, Cas. I’m looking properly now. And I see you for exactly who you are.”

It’s not an idle threat, not from Lucifer’s vessel, not from the man who killed Lilith, but there’s a shiver down his spine that’s not quite fear. He’s a low ranking angel, all things considered. Like a god on earth, but celestially insignificant. He is to take orders, to follow his father’s will and his brothers’ guidance and never stray from this well trodden path.

No one has ever seen him before.

[tklmeadi]

This weekend I experienced a tickle tag team for the first time by the hands of @socaltickle5 and @theowylshop at a play party 👀

Long story incoming for anyone interested…

Let me just say, going into this play party I was very anxious because it was my first time in this environment. I didn’t know what to expect, of course I wanted to be tickled, but I didn’t know if I was going to want to be tickled in front of everyone/ whoever wanted to watch. The idea made me nervous and my anxiety was on 100 when I first arrived 😂

A longtime fantasy of mine was being tickled on a X cross, and the opportunity was put right into my hands… deep down I knew I couldn’t pass it up.

So after I took some time to loosen up, I started discussing the opportunity with these two lovely lers, we tested me out… & then got right to it lol

I was tickled in several different positions, laying down and on the X cross... Basically they wrecked my shit 💀

Honestly, being tickled in front of other people was an experience… I kept looking up and telling everyone to close their eyes lmao my shy ass was so embarrassed, but I think the crowd was loving it 😭

Not only was the crowd enjoying my suffering and shit talking, but they were literally taking notes on the skills of @socaltickle5 and @theowylshop ! lol was basically a tickle torture 101 class 😂

It was soo intense! I was worried that my nervousness would affect my sensitivity, and while it may have affected it a little bit, I was still very much ticklish luckily for all of us 😵‍💫

I genuinely considered myself a tough Lee, I thought I could take a lot of tickling but something about 2 people really going in on me made me feel like I was about to combust LOL like let me hang up my “tough Lee” hat , because that was truly hard to bare & that wasn’t even me set to maximum sensitivity. It was taking everything in me not to say yellow every 5 seconds. Lord knows I tried so hard 🥺

All things considered, it was such a fun experience and I’m so glad I did it. I was in subspace for a hot minute after and basically floated out of the building 👻

Shout out to @socaltickle5 and @theowylshop for destroying me and ignoring my pleas for mercy !🤪 you two are QUITE the duo! Always checking in to make sure I was ok, prioritizing my comfort and of course slowing for me the couple times I screamed “yellow” 💀 you both are amazing! 🥰

@socaltickle5 taking care of me and checking on me after I was obliterated 🥰

& shout out to all of the amazing people I met! Online friends I was able to meet IRL for the first time, and new people who are just starting to explore the community. Nothing like coming together with like minded individuals 🥰

special thanks to @undermyfeather for accompanying me to the event and supporting me start to finish🥹🫶🏼

I feel so lucky to have made the most amazing friends in this community!

If any of y’all get the opportunity and want to attend an event like this I highly recommend! 🖤

[henchmaniac-ford]

Stanford let the silence wash over them, when had he become so irrational? Stanford couldn’t shake the look on Stan’s face, he never meant to scare him much less harm his brother. Silence followed his question, silence which Stanford normally revealed in now felt suffocating as he struggled to come up with the right words. Despite telling multiple people the contrary, Stanford could never bring himself to hate Stanley. The thought of his brother harboring such feelings towards him had never crossed his mind before. 

Stanford had nearly forgotten the threat that still stood in front of them, the one who caused all this. His eyes narrowed as they once again focused on Bill. This had to be some sick plan Bill was formulating, trying to get close to Stanley before destroying everything. Stanford’s hand squeezed the base of his gun but he made no other movement, he was hesitating. Why? This time as he gazed upon Bill all he saw was a young man, a frightened one at that. Yes, was wearing Bill’s sigil. But he didn’t give off the same malicious energy the dream demon did. And Despite all his mixed feelings on the situation he found comfort in Bill’s words. 

“No.. this was a mistake on my part forgive me” If this was some trick on Bill’s part it was a damn good one. Stanford slid his gun back into its holster for the time being. Turning his back on Bill he makes his way to Stanley grabbing his face and forcing him to turn his head so he can assess the extent of the damage. “You’ll want to ice that and don’t skimp out on a doctor’s visit, Lee.”

The suffocating silence had dissipated with the two friends back and forth in a way that left Stanford feeling like a fool. His paranoia had gotten the best of him once again, he was sure he’d passed that point in his life. Swallowing, he spoke up, avoiding Stan’s eyes. “I misjudged the situation. I’m sorry for,” Stanford forces a chuckle as he gestures around them “all of this.” He was never one to admit wrongdoing, but there was truly no way to twist this, he fucked up. 

“I mistook him for someone, he hasn’t wronged me in any way” Stanford takes his time walking over to Bill and holding out his hand to formally introduce himself. “I’m sure you’re familiar with me, as you seem to know my brother quite well. but allow me to introduce myself despite this fact.  I’m Stanford Filbrick Pines, feel free to refer to me as Ford. I’d like to formally apologize for that display of aggression. I am not typically one to jump to such conclusions” Stanford’s eyes linger on the necklace “I would like to know a bit more about your family if that’s alright”

*A young Stanley would be wandering around with another person confused, then he spots Ford and approaches him with his friend. Oddly enough, his friend has a very peculiar necklace. The pendant was literally an illuminati triangle, or just a Bill Cipher insignia if you didn't think too hard.*

"Hey there! You... you're a Ford right? Or like- a version of my brother?"

"Dude, six-fingers. C'mon he's not even trying to hide it like IQ typically is."

"I've gotta be sure! It's also freakin' weird seeing all of them so old! Like... why are all of our variants so ancient?"

"You mean the boomer energy?"

"Aren't they boomers? They've gotta be like... 70 or 80."

"I still think if that's how your brother's gonna look he ages like fine wine."

"EAUGH- TMI!!"

"IT'S THE TRUTH?"

"BILL THAT IS YOUR BIAS! YOU SIMP!"

(Ooc: Heyo!! I hope you don't mind this bitty bab I threw into your inbox, but if it makes you uncomfortable feel free to ignore!)

- @gfthe-fearsome-foursome

A fond smile appears on his face once he recognizes Stan "Greetings! This must've been how you looked after getting kicked out.. I am in fact another version of your brother, Stanford" Stanford holds out his hands showing off the extra finger.

The smile on his face fading as he scans Bill suspiciously. The nicknames and necklace setting off alarms in his head. "...Well there do happen to be plenty of universes out there where we aren't older as well, seems you are just missing those. First example that comes to mind is a baby dimension where you stay an infant forever"

The instant his suspicions are confirmed Stanford grabs Stan's arm and throws him behind him. Quickly unlatching a gun from its holster and aiming it directly at Bill. "Bill what do you want with my brother!? You can't seriously be stooping this low!"

[sciderman]

well - webtoons is over, gang

[pencey]

IM IN TROUBLE MAKING A SCENE A BUZZKILL PARTY KULLJOY FOR COMMANDING A SECURITY GUARD TO UNHAND ME. I WAS WALKING OUT WITH A CUP OF WATER. W A T E R.

UNHAND ME. I COMMAND YOU BY TO POWER OF GOD TO LET ME DRINK W A T E R, YOU USELESS WASTE OF SPACE.

It's water, and I'm evil for commanding you off of me. Unnamed "friend" who brought me over. You're a fucking coward. You don't know sexy if it hit you in te face, you incel UGLY CREEPY LOSER. THIS IS WHY YOUR SINGLE. DEFEND ME OR DIE ALONE, UGLY. HOW DARE YOU LOOK AT ME LIKE YOUR ASHAMED OF ME. FOR BEING POOR? A SMOKER? NOT SEXUALLY ATTRACTED TO YOU? YOU INVITED ME INTO MY HOUSE. I PAY YOU MONEY FOR A BEDROOM. YOU INVITE ME TO HANG WITH YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS.HOW DARE YOU LOOK AT ME LIKE YOUR ASHAMED OF ME. YOU TELL ALL YOUR FRIENDS THAT YOUR MY "SAVIOR" AND YOU ARE "SAVING ME FROM HOMELESS AND YOURE SAVING MY MENTAL HEALTH." IM NOT A DEAD FUCKING DOG YOU RESCUED ON THE ROAD. IM A FUCKING RAPE VICITM. IM A FUCKING WOMEN. IM A FUCKING HUMAN BEING. I HAVE BEEN ON THE RUN FIGHTING FOR A SAFE SPACE SINCE 2021.

Give me fuckin dignity for allowing you to sit in my presence. I'm a very beautiful women (conventionally attractive, just broke up with a meathead firefighter, so I'm mathematically not ugly), you should be fucking GRATEFUL YOU GET TO LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL FACE. I SAY NOTHING BUT KIND WORDS TO YOU. I AM NOTHING BUT A DECENT FRIEND. I NEVER JUDGE YOU. YOU DESERVE TO BE GRACIOUS FOR HAVING THE PLEASURE OF LOOKING AT MY BEAUTY AND GRACE. I AM SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL THAT ITS ILLEGAL TO LOOK AT ME. I WILL LIVE IN THE FUCKING WOODS ETH A BROWN BAG OVER MY HEAD JUST BECAUSE I REFUSE TO GIVE YOU THE PLEASURE OF LOOKING AT ME FOR FREE.

I AM A KIND WOMEN. I AM A PASSIONATE FREEDOM FIGHTER. I AM NOTHING BUT COMPASSIONATE. IM A FUCKING INTELIGENT BITCH. I AM COOL AND SWAG. I AM A CASINO DEALER, AN ASTROPHYSICS MAJOR, AND A COMIC BOOK AUTHOR IN THE MAKING. I SURVIVED SEVERE ABUSE AND SEXUAL TORTURE, AND I STILL SHOW UP TO WORK EVERY DAY WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE. FROM WHAT IVE BEEN THOUGH AND CONSIDERING HOW SUCCESSFUL AND COOL I AM, I STILL MAKE IT A MISSION TO BE GRACIOUS AND KIND. YOU DONT KNOW WHOS CRYING THEMSELVES TO SLEEP EVERYNIGHT. BE FUCKING GRATEFUL FOR WHO YOU ENTERED IN YOUR FUCKING HOUSE. IM GOING TO BE FUCKING FAMOUS ONE DAY WHILE YOUR A SINGLE INCEL WHO GETS TO DIE ALONE BECAUSE YOU CANT APPRICATE A WOMEN WHO KNOWS HOW TO STAND HER GROUND.

[kanene-yaaay]

one day i will sit down and actually write all the mdzs tickle headcanons I have and then it will be all over for you guys (<3)

For the moment tho:

Lan Zhan taking his sweet time to copy all the rules of the Lan sect in Wei Ying's back. Sitting on his legs with a book in one of his hands and the other holding one the softest brushes he has, movements precise and serene as ever as he keeps his strokes the straight as possible with his husband squirming and trashing non stop under him, giggling and snickering all the teases and provocations and begging and promises he can imagine. Lan Zhan huffs in a light kind of exasperation when another character gets crooked and he has to put his book down to take the damp, fluff fabric he brough just for this and srubs the paint before he can continue. Wei Ying's laughter get just a tad more hysterical, quickly descending back into high pitches giggles as Lan Zhan dutifully goes back to his work, lips twitching into a soft kind of smile reserved just for those moments. He dips the brush in the ink and continues, almost hipnotized by the way his lover's laughter and reactions changes with every new character, but he refuses to get distracted.

There is still 2,000 of rules left to copy, after all.

~~

And since we're talking about the Lans and everything. No one can convince me that Lan Xichen is NOT simply the biggest tickle monster that ever existed. I can perfectly picture him walking calmly, kind and calm smile on his face as he follows his next prey, reminding them that it's forbbiden to run in the Cloud Recess when they realize what is about to happen and are caught in between running away anyway - not the smartest choice, he will catch you anyway even before you can blink - or staring him with wide eyes while trying to back away - also not the best choice, he is getting closer and the antecipation is a killer - OR just accept the fact that their fate is going to be a very giggly and tickly one in a few minutes. Full of teases and smiles and kind words and a sweet 'thank you for expanding my collection with all of your lovely reactions'

[not-neverland06]

we're dating? ♡

logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader

You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 

The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 

Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 

You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 

“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 

Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 

You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”

He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 

“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”

Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 

“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 

“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 

“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 

You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 

“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 

Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 

You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 

But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 

You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 

You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 

You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 

You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 

You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”

I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 

You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 

He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 

“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”

Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 

You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 

But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 

“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”

You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”

Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”

“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”

His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 

You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”

Only an idiot would say no. 

You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 

“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 

“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 

You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.

“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 

“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 

He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 

He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 

The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 

By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 

You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 

Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 

Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”

You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”

Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 

Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”

“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 

You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.

Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 

You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 

The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 

Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 

Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 

You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 

He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 

His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.

He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 

You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 

You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 

Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 

It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 

There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 

You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 

When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 

“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 

There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 

You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. ��Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 

“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”

You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”

His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 

Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 

You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”

You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 

There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 

You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 

It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 

“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 

You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”

He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 

You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 

He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?

You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”

“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”

You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 

“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.

He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 

You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 

He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 

You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 

He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 

It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 

You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 

You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 

You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 

Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 

You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”

He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”

Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”

You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”

He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”

You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 

“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”

There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?

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

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[queenpiranhadon]

So, it's basically canon that Pro Heroes come to assist heroes in training at UA, right?

Just imagine the horror the new generation of heroes would face when they realize that their opponent for training that day is none other than the Number Two Pro Hero, Dynamight.

It's a hero team vs villain simulation - a joint practice between both hero course classes - Katsuki basically has free range to destroy the mock city UA had built and the students had to prevent him from doing so, which was really just a waste of money because of the Pro Hero's already destructive tendencies.

He already had to regulate himself for Pro Hero work, so this was really just waving the reg flag in front of the bull.

Needless to say, they all got their asses kicked, all 40 of them. Whether it was due to falling debris or evading explosions, all of them were forced to wave their white flags eventually.

The students weren't so much in shock, they were in awe, of how a Pro Hero could be so powerful and intimidating, and well...badass.

Their main takeaway? Katsuki Bakugou was an impenetrable force to be reckoned with.

Or... at least for a few minutes.

You can imagine the shock on their faces when the grim and serious expression on Dynamight's face melts instantly when he hears a voice speak up behind him.

"Katsuki, if you keep frowning all the time, you're going to get wrinkles."

He turns around, a rare smile stretching across his face as he stares at you, his wife, like you're the only person in the world at that moment, like you're the only one that matters.

"Tch. I don't get wrinkle lines, woman. Yer just seein' things."Despite his slight harsh words, they're softer, somehow, and the happy twinkle in his eyes is unmistakable.

The students gape at each other. The Dynamight, Katsuki Bakugou , in love? The same pro hero that was wreaking havoc and creating carnage in his wake was the same one now staring at his wife with a dopey grin and peppering kisses across your face.

"Katsuki!" You whine, but it looses its credibility as you start to laugh at his antics. "What's gotten into you, huh?" you ask, a little softer, so that only he could hear.

He looks at you, a soft look in his eyes as he kisses you gently and lovingly pulling away to admire your pretty face.

"M'just feeling sentimental I guess... We were probably their age when we started dating huh?" He says, referring to the students.

You snort, recalling the time when Katsuki first asked you out. "Aww...is my baby feeling sentimental? You were a dork back then."

Katsuki looks offended and his grumbles, nipping your jawline in annoyance."Oi. I was not a dork back then. If anything, Izuku was the dork."

You smile teasingly, kissing his nose, effectively shutting your explosive husband up.

"Is that so? Because I recall you had your All Might posters set up in chronological order of his costume eras."

Katsuki's ears turn red and his large hand wraps around the back of your hand, burying your face in his chest.

"Shaddup woman. Yer the one who fell for this dork in the first place."

You laugh, your voice muffled by his chest, but he can still hear you just fine. Looking up at him you smile.

"You may be a dork, but you're my dork."

The students watch is abosolute shock, mouth gaping open as they wonder how the hell you were able to render Katsuki Bakugou to the sappy man they saw in front of them.

A/N: He's so silly I love him 🥰

[yzzart]

WHEN I WAS LED TO YOU... ── KENJI SATO

── summary: Kenji could get used to his routine, but, only with you by his side.

── word count: 982!

── warnings: F!reader, nothing intense, mention of Emi and Mina, Kenji being a little needy.

“Come on…” — A voice, entering the melody with softness and familiarity, passed through the player’s ears. — “…i know you’re awake.” — The statement was accompanied by a laugh.

Kenji could easily — in fact, completely — conclude that that voice belonged to an angel; even though he doesn't admit to being so religious, openly. — By having his eyes closed, in satisfied tiredness and drowsiness, he was more likely to believe in his conclusion.

Even in unpleasant, unstable situations and, insanely, worries about his life — like worrying about his stats in games, trying not to destroy the city while fighting some monster, and teaching Emi something practical and not blunt — and not wanting to hear or see nothing in front of him, Kenji had his refuge; a place to feel safe and at peace, at home.

“Ken…” — You voice pleaded, with more sweetness and, trying, to mix a little seriousness. In addition to moving between the thin, silky sheets of your body, wanting to get even closer to the boy.

In fact, he could melt into the bed, right there, just to hear your voice crying out to him like that.

Releasing a brief sigh, and pulling a breathing line, inhaling your scent, which was stuck to the pillow, Kenji tried to communicate with a mumble; which even he himself had no chance of understanding. — Perhaps, his consciousness still remained trapped in his sleep.

Because you found his action funny, your laugh, a little more hoarse, enveloped Ken's ears again; automatically forming a placid smile on his lips. — Moving his head, the young boy, with his eyes sensitive to the light, comes across your image resting on the pillow and covered, just enough, with the white sheet.

Sato was mentally grateful for the privilege of waking up every day with this vision.

"Good morning, my love." — You said, without holding back your wide smile; something that captivated and welcomed Ken's chest. — Your orbs moved, without haste or greed, across the boy's face, memorizing, for countless times, every little dot that existed in the region.

"Morning..." — He replied, followed by a yawn and another grumble; a sudden and unexpected movement was caused in the bed, obviously, it was the player's body snuggling against your. — Like he wants to fit in with you. — "What time is it please…?"

“Hm…” — Your eyes crossed the clock next to the bed. — “Soon, it will be 9:30.” — With his head buried in your neck, Sato let out a whimper, causing a tickle.

“It’s not possible…” — He complained, almost whimpering; as a sign of caress, your hand entered your lover's soft black hair, causing affection and tenderness.

The oldest settled down, and, briefly, relieving a growl, memorizing a purr; feeling on your skin, a satisfied smile adored by the attention. — A true paradise for young Sato and he had no problem admitting it.

“I think someone forgot about the interview they promised for today, right?” — He definitely forgets; by the way his head moved from where it was, and how wide his eyes were, Ken had nowhere to run. — “Yeah, you forgot.” — You raised one of your eyebrows.

“Wasn’t it due tomorrow?” — He questioned, still not believing and with some messy black locks standing out on her forehead. — “I’m sure i had it scheduled for tomorrow.” — He rushed into words. — “Actually, i’m not so sure.”

End of the season, therefore, decisive games for the team and more efforts towards a high level of dedication; it also meant several interviews and moments of questioning about the games, his teammates and his personal life. — Sato understood that it was important, of course, it was part of being a baseball star, however, when trying to balance his life as an Ultraman, a player and, recently, the father of a giant baby lizard, it wasn't such a simple thing.

He wasn't alone, not to mention Mina, and, thankfully, he had you by his side. — Trying, as much as possible, and persisting in helping him; even when, thinking about your care and certain risks, he warned you that he didn't need it. — Evidently, the guidelines were not followed, for a pleasant reason. — And now, seeing you taking care of Emi, as if she were your child, lit up Sato's eyes.

“It really is today, Ken.” — You confirmed it and, unsurprisingly, another wave of mumbles and incomprehensible words and rolled eyes. — “At least, it will be the last one before they enter the rest period.” — Your hand moved along Sato's long, strong, bare arm, reinforcing his attention.

“At least there is a bright side.” — He murmured, shaking his head, prolonging his thoughts, at the same time, reusing the contact of your hand against his skin. — “I need to take a break.” — He said, turning towards you. — “Urgently.” — Like a somewhat defenseless creature, he returned to his comfort, now, with his head under your chin.

"I know, honey." — Your fingers stroked Kenji's hair, for the second time, while his arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you, with the need to keep you close to him. — “And you will soon.” — Subtly, and delicately, your voice soothed him. — “Don’t worry about Emi, i’ll take care of her for today.” — Kenji thanked, once again and mentally. — “And maybe we’ll make a list of what we can do during these days off and she’ll go along with us.”

Your boyfriend's familiar, radiant laugh spread throughout the room, resounding in your chest. — For a short time, Kenji had understood his relationship with Emi and achieved a paternal image; visibly, it wasn't just him. — The small, and immense, baby witnessed you as a second mother.

“Yes, yes, of course.” — He pulled away, coming face to face with you, looking into your eyes, in pure ecstasy and passion. — “You’re the best, dear.” — Bringing his lips to your forehead, Kenji gave you a long, careful kiss.

[emmyrosee]

“Baby, I promise I was kidding.”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Rintaro.”

“‘Rintaro?’ Baby, it was a joke! If I knew it would actually make you upset, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Your eyes are watery and pouty when you look at him, and he blinks down at you expectantly. Then you huff, “of course I’m upset! It’s a sign of disrespect.”

Rintaro groans and squats down in front of you, head moving back and forth to keep his eyes locked on yours as you try to move your own gaze, “baby, I swear, I didn’t mean it, I thought it would make you laugh.”

He never thought hitting your Pompurin plush would have you in such shambles. You’ve been ignoring him all ride with a small grimace on your lips, playing with Pompurin’s arms and tiny feet, sometimes answering questions about what’s on the tag. You’re deadset on ignoring him. It’s destroying him.

With a small sigh, he leans up to try and plant a kiss to your lips, despite the fact that the last thing he’d think you’d want is a kiss. It’s something he knows you adore, though, he hopes you see through your anger to see him.

You do pout out slightly to try and chase his lips, and it fills him with relief.

“It was pretend, baby,” he mumbles, trying to convince you. “I’d never mean to hit him, I was pretending to be mad that he’d take you away from me.”

Well. It was only half pretend.

But you don’t need to know that.

You gently twist pompurin’s ears in your fingers, shrugging and shaking your face from his hands slightly. “You hurt my feelings Rin.”

Once again, he grabs your chin, leaning up to press another kiss to your lips. “I know, baby. I thought it’d be funny.”

“Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m so sorry-“

“Not to me,” you grumble. “To him!” You hold up the new pompurin plush, and Rintaro tucks his lips in his mouth to hide the annoyed sigh that wants to slip out.

Annoyed, albeit still endeared.

Green eyes hyper fixate on the doey eyes of pompurin, smacking his lips and nodding in respect. “I’m sorry, Pompurin. I never should’ve hit you. And I hope you’ll consider forgiving me and taking care of them while I’m at practice.”

In his peripheral, he sees you smile, your fingers shifting to move pompurin’s head to nod.

“Thank you for apologizing,” you say as you lower the new plush animal. “I love you.”

He smirks and leans forward one final time to kiss you, and you giggle in the kiss and toss your arms around his neck.

If he could guarantee you’d always be this affectionate after, he’d playfully smack all your stuffed animals.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Dom!reader x sub!scarletella

Warning: fictional stuff - stimulation through a separate object (?), inspired by some fanarts (artists are amazing), teasing, degrading pet names

I’m seeing so many fanarts that have this implanted and I HAVE to do something about my horniness that’s holding me back from working so, as far as I understand, for mr. Scarlettela his real body is his umbrella or it’s at least connected to him - anyway, can’t believe I’m writing about homicipher bruh, I feel ashamed T^T

!!Spoiler warning!! This is not canon but has some elements from it

He is a good boy, he really is! Well, maybe not at all times, but he’s trying his best for you. And haven’t you seen just how much he loves and trusts you? He’s basically devoted to you! Like a faithful follower~ Handing the red umbrella he always carries over to you so easily, when he normally would never let anyone touch it, let alone give or lend it. It’s just proof of how much he likes you!

So why were you so mean and destroyed it? You like him, didn’t you know that his umbrella is connected to him? Why were you hurting him. He didn’t understand, he didn’t even know what to do. Because in the end, he still liked you.

Now this over 8 feet tall creature was kneeling in front of you, head lowered in confusion as he stared at the concrete floor. You were still holding the now broken umbrella, scoffing as you stared down at his rather pathetic form. It wasn’t entirely broken, just some bend metal and rough ends, or a little tear here and there. Yet for some reason his clothes were torn and disheveled, hands shaking slightly as he kept mumbling the words ‘I don’t understand’ or ‘I like you’ over and over again. At first he seemed intimidating, but now you didn’t have an ounce of fear left.

There must have been a connection between him and this umbrella. Instead of speculating, best just ask him.

Slowly you pointed the long object in your hand at him, the tip pushed below his chin as you made him look up at you. His round, almost completely dark eyes stared right at you, one side was covered by his crimson hair. There were tears steaming down his cheeks, he was crying, how unexpected. The two of you locked eyes for a few seconds, and you wondered what you should do about this crazed man.

While their language was hard to grasp at first, you were getting the hang of it by now. “This umbrella, is you?” The meaning of the question itself was unbelievable, but since this ghost realm exists, maybe your hypothesis wasn’t that out of place. “Yes. Me body.” Look at that, you were right. That explains why he suddenly got so sad. You groaned internally and pulled your arm back, using the umbrella as a cane instead.

As you were still thinking over your next step, his hands reached out to you hesitantly, and softly tugged at the ends of your coat. After stretching the fabric out a little, he leaned his forehead against it, mumbling almost inaudibly, “please don’t go, I like you.” You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth subconsciously moving upwards as you snickered, “What?” His grip got a little tighter and his hand trembled from tensing his muscles so much, then he said a little louder, “I like you, don’t you like me?”

God you wanted to laugh, this was so sad it was laughable. How in the world did he come to that conclusion? In that moment, you had a lot to say t0 him, but due to the language barrier you couldn’t convey it really well. So you just talked to yourself, needing some time to vent.

“Oh you poor thing.” You chuckled in your own language, the one he didn’t understand. “What am I supposed to do with a perv like you?” He looked up at you again, wanting to ask what you said if not for your shoes that were pressing against his chest. “..what?” The person- or monster asked, but he didn’t resist your touch and leaned back, following your guidance. From earlier up to this point, he has been kneeling, just this time he was also using his arms behind his back to stabilise himself.

Without changing the almost arrogant look in your eyes, you used the gift he gave you to trace some imaginary lines on his body. The tip glided from his jawline to the tip of his chin, and you asked, “your name?” The heavy tension was something he also caught on, and he hesitated, not knowing to what this would lead. He shook his head, forcing out a “don’t know…”

You hummed slowly, showing you understood the message. Nonetheless, you continued to move the tip down his neckline all the way to his toned collarbones, “I’ll give you a name.” His eyes widened even more, it made him look objectively creepier, but you thought he looked like a dumb puppy. All big eyed, bearing a deep need and raw desire in his pupils. “How about,” then, just like drawing with a stick in the mud, you traced the word, “Scarlet,” over his chest, simultaneously voicing out the word.

He shuddered as the hard surface scribbles around his torso, squeezing his lips together while he tried to stay still for you. You weren’t being exactly gentle there. When you stopped to glance at him, he quickly nodded. That wasn’t the end to your little play yet, and you slid the pointy end across his abs and stomach, down to his thighs, making him spread them a little wider, “I gave you a name, so you’ll be my servant from now on. Understood?” This has been said in your language, but you hoped he’ll get the overall meaning.

Again he nodded. In his head, being your servant meant you liked him, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t keep him around! So how could he ever say no.

“Use your mouth.” You ordered, digging the tip into his flesh a little, and he answered shortly after, “I understand, me happy.” Sweat was forming on his forehead, and his previous crying ceased. Instead a faint taint of pink covered his cheeks, and he stared at you almost manically. “Good.” You said, which was basically a praise— right? —and he smiled, a shaky, breathless one.

A little behind you was a chair, and you dragged it closer to the still kneeling man below you. Even you were starting to get tired of standing, so you sat down in a comfortable position. “What now.” You said to yourself, not really paying him any attention anymore. It would be nice if you had a collar, would red or black look better on him? But your resources were limited, and you didn’t exactly have a lot of things with you as well. That’s when you absentmindedly thought over what you did own.

Besides that crowbar you’ve found down here, you really didn’t have a lot. Well, you also had a broken umbrella now— hold up, that’s right, you own him now. A rather sadistic thought came to mind, and you pondered to what limit you could control him with this red, unusual umbrella. Would he feel your presence when you just hold it? You got lost in your thoughts again, fumbling with the torn textile and the handle. This didn’t stop until a strange sound caught your attention.

Your eyes left the red batch of fabric in your hands, and instead wandered to the other red thing in the room. He crawled into a ball, arms folded in front of his body while his head pressed against the ground. It looked like he was in pain again, though you weren’t sure if these noises were whimpers of pain or pleasure. “You okay?” You eventually asked, and he whispered in a higher pitch, “me okay..!”

Once again your gaze returned to the umbrella. He must be in this state due to something you did, and so you tightened your grip around the handle while mindlessly drawing a line with your index finger on the panel. As expected, his shoulder jerked upwards even more, and he rolled more together, as if he wanted to take up as little space as possible. His entire body was twitching, also for some reason his coat was only hanging off his arms now.

“You are into it.” You commented, not even too shocked to learn this rather unnecessary fact. At least you can have your fill of fun with this. “What about this?” Suddenly you started moving your hand up and down the handle, rubbing the umbrella panel with the other hand. It was a truly humbling experience to do something implied sexual to a literal object, but your eyes were glued to the ghost before you, so you didn’t even notice how weird it must have looked.

And sure enough, there was a change in his behaviour, he got louder. Your smile widened involuntarily, and your pace also got quicker and rougher. Oh fucking hell, if he was really feeling that kind of sensations, you won’t be able to stop yourself. It was like you were hypnotised, concentrated on nothing but his expressions. On the different ways his face twisted into one of ecstasy.

A big, dark, lunatic grin, paired with fanatic eyes that were ripped wide open. Some hints of a scarlet blush covering his face while sweat rolled down his face. Those perverse sounds he made were proof of the probably internal pleasure he felt, and he quivered all over, still bend down on the floor. Now that you’ve got a better grasp of what was happening, you realized he was crawled together to hide something.

“Ngh, hgGnn- ah..! Please…♥︎～” he whined at your feet, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth and landing on the floor. You’ve been fumbling with the handle for some time, so you’ve gotten bored again and was curious about if the textile was a part of his being as well. Without a second thought, you simply stuck two fingers between the folds, and you were met with a heavily muffled moan.

“Arghhh-…MmmHFfffF～ ♡♡♥︎” Once he felt your touch, he bit into his own palm to quiet himself down. At some point he started crying again, glistening tears decorating his already ruined face. You didn’t think his reaction would be this good, this lewd, whatever you did, he must have liked it a lot. Which is why, despite the absurdity of your actions, you moved your fingers in and out of the holes or just randomly caressed whatever part you felt like touching.

Out of nowhere you felt something tugging at your coat again, it gave off a sense of Deja vu. Of course it was him, who was only pinching the corner of it with a shaky hand. His grip had lost any strength compared to before, and you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. “What?” You asked him, though you didn’t stop your administrations. He cried out when he opened his mouth to speak, breaking down in front of you, for your entertainment only.

“Haaaa-HnnGh… wait, p-please wait-!♡” Was he telling you it was too much? It’s making you want to overstimulated him even more. He was being so pathetic it was cute. Without wasting a single second, you went as fast as you could, blatantly ignoring his pleads. Based on your own observations, he must have been close, if he was similar to a real person. “Feels good?” You asked, to make sure he was alright. He didn’t reply again and only nodded all weakly, but you’ll let it slide this time.

He felt so hot and strange, it was a nice but unfamiliar feeling. Not only that, he felt something burning building up inside him and it was threatening to spill. That’s why he wanted you to slow down. Poor thing was confused, absolutely baffled what this warm feeling was. Is it love? It must be love. He loved you and you loved him after all. All in all it wasn’t a bad feeling, and since you seemed happy, he is too!

Another sudden wave of pleasure coursed through him, his eyes were clouded with lust and bliss, and the dirty whimpers that slipped past his lips got more erotic by the second. How desperate and lovesick he sounded, begging, pleading, squirming and trashing around on the spot. Thighs pressed together while his toes curled, back arched as a last moan ripped from his throat, “nnNgGHhh ♡♥︎ ♡～” Just as you predicted, that must have been his climax. Now’s the question, did he came in his pants? Did such things still have a reproductive system?

My my, it seems that is the case, whatever it was it seeped through the dark fabric of his trousers, causing an even darker spot to appear.

You only caught glimpses of it since he was hiding his own body so much, but you were content nevertheless. Since he was so obedient the entire time, you decided to be nice to him with the limited vocabulary you had. “Cute.” His kneeling figure was still shuddering and twitching, ragged gasps and pants were also coming from him. But for him, the only thing he could hear was your voice ringing and echoing in his mind, as well as the awfully loud beats of his own heart.

After all this time, you finally praised him! Well you did before but this time he was sure of it! And you found him cute! He was so happy he couldn’t stop grinning. That’s when you said, “do you want anything?” It was to kind of make up for making a fool out of him, or maybe for breaking his umbrella. He didn’t even think before quickly turning his head up, slurring out, “g-give me you name?” You blinked, that wouldn’t have been what you wished for but oh well. Right before you simply told him the answer you stopped yourself, and responded teasingly, “call me master.”

You weren’t sure if he knew the meaning behind it, but it didn’t matter. He had a blank look for a few seconds, mumbling to himself, most likely repeating that word a thousand times. While he did that, he let his head hang low again, facing the floor. His hair hid his face really well, and you couldn’t read his expression. “You alright?” You asked once the silence started to make you feel uneasy.

He placed both his hand on the floor and leaned down, until his face was hovering centimetres above your shoe, and he whispered eagerly, excessively so, “I’m happy, master. I love you.” Before kissing the tip of your shoe. You stared down in disbelief, a shiver running down your spine. He was more of a freak than you thought.

The moment he was done, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, proceeding to yank on it, making him face you on eye-level while he gasped in surprise. Your other hand clutched the umbrella more tightly, causing him to groan slightly. “Stupid dog.” You chuckled with a sinister smile spread across your face, watching as hearts appeared in the middle of his pupils.

[vanesycho]

Summary:A little warning to your boyfriend who is insecure about his face.

warning:smut, face riding, pussy eating

a/n: @ldh0000 hope you like it luv😔🫶🏻 really obsessed with him🙏🏻

wc:0,9k

"Baby, aren't you ready yet?" Chan spoke as he entered the room and looked at you doing your makeup in front of the mirror, you looked at him in the mirror and spoke "No, I'm sorry this is taking so long." Chan walked over to you and leaned over the mirror, fixed his hair "Wow, today I'm declaring myself the ugliest man in the world." You put down your makeup without reacting to his 'joke' and turned to him, saw that he's smiling at you "How many times do we have to talk about not saying things like that?" He looked at your furrowed eyebrows and chuckled, kissed your cheek "Oh, don't take it seriously honey. It was just a joke. I mean… when I look at myself, well… I'm just exaggerating a bit."

You rolled your eyes and talked more to yourself as you did your makeup "It pisses me off that you don't realize how good you really look. I can't understand all your insecurities." he folded his arms and continued to listen to you as the smile on his face grew "I wonder how you dare to call yourself ugly when your handsome face and amazing body drive me crazy. I could even sit on your face and praise you for hours just to prove how beautiful you are, stupid." He raised his eyebrows questioningly and let out a chuckle, then you realized what you said and turned your head to him and made him laugh.

"Okay I didn't expect this much, to be honest. But I can't say I didn't like it." he leaned towards you and spoke against your lips "Should we cancel today's plans? So you can sit on my face and I won't joke about my looks again." You licked your dry lips, the thought of it making you clench your legs together. "Promise?" He smiled and held out his hand. "I promise." You took his hand and stood up, watching Chan take off his shirt and lie down on the bed. You now realized you were holding your breath and let out a deep breath. Chan, who was looking down at you, bit his lower lip excitedly and patted his lap. "Take off your clothes and come here," he didn't even have to repeat.

Your panties were on the floor in a short while and you were now on his lap, he gripped your hips tightly and let out a deep groan as he pressed you against him. "You look so beautiful." You smiled at the compliment you received. "You should see yourself. God...I have the most beautiful boyfriend." He gave a shy smile and pressed you back against him. "Let me taste you, I can tell how wet you are even through my clothes, fuck." You lifted your hips and moved forward a little more, stopping when you got to his face, Chan placed his hands on your legs and gave your clit a small lick first. When this unexpected move made your hips move away from his face, Chan tightened his grip and made you sit down completely.

His tongue started licking your hole, as you felt his big nose, made you let out a loud moan at the same time. "C-chris..Y-yes- you're so good.." The compliment he received excited Chan instantly and he continued his tongue strokes. Your moans showed that he was doing a good job, and with the confidence that came from it, he took care of your entire pussy. You ran a hand through his hair, begging for more. “Ride my face baby, I know you want it. Make your boyfriend happy by giving him what he wants.” You started to move your hips slowly, Chan’s face was almost completely covered with your juices, you moaned in pleasure as he sent a muffled moan into your pussy. “Please- you’re so good yes keep going- f-fuck I’m so close.” Chan didn’t care if he was out of breath at that moment, he didn’t stop or slow down his movements, what mattered right now was for you to cum on his beautiful face and he wanted it right now. Your moans were now like tears, your hips roamed over his face, Chan’s tongue was enough to destroy your hole. First he licked it all over and then he guided it to your hole and pushed it inside, while he helped you ride his nose where it was right next to your clit. Your hips were still moving to your face, you let your clenched body relax as you finally came. The cum that was dripping from Chan’s chin started to run down his neck. He didn't let you get up, he wanted to clean up every bit of liquid himself.

When he finally loosened his grip on your legs you shifted to the side and looked at him, swallowed as you looked at his face that was still full of your juices. “Fuck, you’re beautiful even when you’re this messed up.” He laughed at your hypnotic tone and looked away from you for a moment. “Thank you baby. Ah..if that’s what I’m going to have to go through every time I’m insecure, I’m okay with that.” You laughed and punched him lightly in the chest. “No, you promised.” He caught the spot you hit and a laugh echoed through the room. Chan leaned in and kissed your head. “I know, I’ll keep my promise…If you sat on my face every time I wanted?” You nodded, he smiled at that. “Good. Come back now, I’m not done with you.”

[nanivinsmoke]

❥KNOCK THAT KITTY CAT OUT!

old!manlogan x f!reader

summary ❥ everything and everyone seems to stress the old man out, what happens when he takes it all out on you? title inspired by sir mix a lot

warnings: dom logan, sub reader, fingering, oral (m receiving), multiple orgasms, raw sex, breeding kink, claws come out, spanking, etc.

note: round three! enjoy my hunni buns. m.list here. wc: 1.9k

the loud cling of his belt as it hit the floor, echoing throughout the room, making you gulp as you watched the older man saunter over towards you. following his belt, his button up fell to the floor, leaving him in his beater; showing off his salt and pepper chest hair.

“had a long fucking day, doll. a long fucking day. ‘m gonna need you to be a good girl and take it,” he looked at you, stress etched into his brows, letting you know he exactly how this was going to play out. “okay, daddy~” your voice sweet and sultry, making his cock throb in his black slacks.

logan motioned you over to him, watching you crawl your way over on the bed, kneeling right in front of him as you reached out and palmed his bulge. drool started to trickle out of the corner of your mouth, own arousal building as you anticipated what was to come next.

a low growl left his mouth, tangling his hand into your hair, gripping it and tugging your head back; making you stare into his dark irises. “pull it down,” he ordered and you didn’t hesitate to unzip his slacks and pull them down, revealing his fat bulge that sat behind his grey boxers. you moaned softly, tugging them down as well, his fat cock springing free.

his tip was coated in globs of sticky precum, which you happily licked up. he stiffened from your actions. your warm wet tongue teasing his sensitive head, making more of the translucent fluid pool out, before you finally wrapped your mouth around his tip.

the older man sighed, watching as you took him whole, slowly easing him to the back of your mouth; nearing your throat, before you pulled back. felt like you were teasing him, even though you weren’t. he was huge and it usually took a minute for you to relax and get used to his size, but the old man didn’t have any patience for it—he had an unbelievably hard day.

the grip on your hair became tighter as he pushed your head further down on his fat cock, making your cheeks puff up and your pretty little eyes well up with tears. he began to move his hips, pulling himself out of your warm mouth before pushing back in, repeating the process and causing strings of spit to trickle down.

“just like….that, doll. nice and sloppy.” he praised, making your cunt gush. they he was using your mouth like his own personal pocket pussy was so arousing, this was exactly what you needed. you were glad his job stressed him out, so he could fuck you like the slut that laid deep inside of you.

he wiggled his hips into your face, looking down into your eyes as you took him so well. you looked so pretty like this too. eyes big and watering with tears as he stuffed your mouth full of cock, fucking your throat just the way he liked it. the old man was losing himself. in some sadistic way, he got off at the thought of destroying you—using you to fulfill he desires. and you knew it too, that’s why you moved a free hand down to your clothed cunt and began to rub your little bundle of nerves.

the more he fucked your mouth to his liking, the closer he got to his orgasm and soon he was coating your mouth with thick ropes of cum. the growl he let out had you cumming along with him. you struggled to swallow his seed, overtaken by the slight intensity of your orgasm—earning a harsh tug on your hair. “swallow,” he commanded and you did as you were told, earning a ‘good girl’ from him.

logan then told you to get in his favorite position, ass up—face down. your peach shaped ass sat up high in the air, allowing him to see how much slick that started to see through your red laced panties. he sucked his teeth and shook his head, pulling the thin fabric to the side; your drooling cunt glistening just for him.

a sigh escaped your mouth when your walls stretched to make room for his cock. despite him fucking you almost everyday, you remained tight as ever and he loved that. when he was finally inside of you, he gripped your hips and pushed his own forward, practically pressing into your cervix; which made you back up.

“told me you were gonna take it,” he scolded and brought you back onto his dick. you whimpered and clenched the silk sheets beneath you, bracing yourself for what’s to come. yet, nothing could prepare you for his ruthless attack on your cunt.

the way he showed you no mercy as he drilled your cunt, had your mind spinning and your eyes fluttering to the back of your head. it was mind boggling to see this older man have this much stamina, yet everything about it felt so good. his balls meeting your clit, smacking it each time to the lewd squelching of your cunt—which made both of your sexes throb.

logan’s pace quickened and he was pounding into you even harder before, making you bite down into the sheets—walls squeezing him as he moved. you could feel your stomach get tighter, wach time his cock rubbed against your spot; earning a series of muffled moans leaving your lips. you were gonna cum so hard and he knew it too.

a harsh smack met your plump ass, the stinging sensation only aroused you and had you wanting more. “harder! please..~”

he grunted in response and repeated his actions, this time harder than the last; making you yelp out, coming undone on his dick. specks of white blurred your vision as you were overtaken by the intensity of your own orgasm, the sheets drenched from your arousal.

but, he didn’t stop there. still fucking you through the mattress—your mind clouded by the second with nothing but thoughts of his delicious dick. “daddy….—‘s too much, please~” your pleas went on deaf ears because he kept stuffing you with his cock, the fat of your ass echoed loudly throughout the room.

your boyfriend let out a loud grunt, before he painted your gummy walls a shade of white. your third orgasm for the night followed right after, your body shook and trembled; this orgasm just as intense as the last. and when he pulled out of you, the warmth of his seed made you feel all tingly and satisfied, which made you glad that he was finished.

until he wasn’t.

—

you should’ve know he wasn’t going to let up on you, especially after the kind of day he had. logan needed to destress and there was no better way to than have your plushy walls wrap around him as he fucked everything away.

you were currently on your back, with him behind you, his thick digits plunging in and out of your wetness; bringing you closer to your orgasm only for him to remove his fingers each time—edging the hell out of you.

whines left your mouth and your eyes brimmed with tears, you needed to let go badly. you tried grinding against his palm, hoping that he would finally let you cum, only to earn a smack towards your cunt—which made you cry out. you were frustrated and he knew that. he was getting off watching you squirm, trying to ease some of the tension he caused you; only for him to pull away each time.

“baby please! please let me cum. please,” oh that nearly made him cum right in his spot. hearing you sob and your voice cracking while you begged for it, broke him, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

his fingers were drenched with your sappy essence, coating them each time he fingered your aching hole. sweet sultry mewls left your mouth and meshed beautifully with the sounds of your pussy; which made the older man pump his fingers faster. you gripped his wrist and bucked your hips upwards as you released the tension that was thick in your stomach.

streams of clear liquid splashed out from your cunt, hitting his palm and your bed—staining it some more. “that’s it. that’s my pretty girl, make a mess for me.”

he continued to pump his fingers faster inside of you, making you squirt even more. and when he finally pulled away, slurping up the remenants of your juices, before leaning down to finally kiss you. the taste of you against his tongue made your eyes flutter and your gushy cunt throbbed. you were so dizzy from the kiss and when he pulled away it was like you were brought back to reality.

logan moved from his spot and laid on the opposite side of you, his hands behind his head while his dick stood tall; shocking you.

did this man take a fucking viagra or something?

he pulled you on top of him, his unbelievably hard cock laid smack on your lower belly; twitching with desire. you gulped and looked down at him; those hazel eyes unbelievably darkened with lust.

“baby….i don’t—I can’t cum anymore, please.”

“just one more. just need one more from my pretty girl. ‘m gonna do all the work, just need you to take it.”

and he kept his word, jackhammering the hell out of you; your nails digging into his skin from the brute force. he groaned in pain and pleasure, his wounds slowly healing while he continued to fuck you stupid. it seems that he was gonna break your cunt while pulling another orgasm from you.

logan could feel you clenching and unclenching around him and he pushed your back down, connecting your mouth with his. “go ahead and cum for me, doll. need to see you cum for me.” he pulled away and you whined, your vision hazy as your climax took over you. your ass clapping with each powerful thrust as he continued to give you dick.

the tighter you clung to his cock, the quicker his own orgasm came down on him and soon he was losing it. he let out the loudest growl ever, his claws unsheathing and sinking deep into the mattress; while he pumped your cunt full of his cum.

and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he pulled out and his claws retracted back into his skin, before you slid off of his sweaty body. your body shook and writhed as you still felt how intense your orgasm was—ropes of his cum starting to pool out of your, until he stopped it with his palm.

“need you to keep it inside. want you all round and plump with my kid inside,” he leaned over and kissed your tear stained cheek—eyes fluttering with sleepiness.

“don’t….don’t go to work tomorrow. can’t take it, ‘m gonna be sore for days.” he chuckled at your remark before pulling the covers over the both of you, cuddling up against your weak body.

it would be a while before you could take him again like this, but it was all worth it.

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[tothosewhoyearnforit]

framed - le sserafim chaewon & yunjin

2995 words

this was supposed to be a quickie, but this fucking yunjin picture had me fantasizing so much.

“Told you it’d work.”

“Didn’t expect it to work this well though.”

It was a surprise. A pleasant surprise. All the two girls had to do was take a selfie of their faces, both sticking their tongues out, letting saliva drip down the tip of their tongues, while they rolled their eyes to the back of their heads, making it seem as though they were drunk on pleasure.

The cherry on top? Those damned glasses and the fucking lip gloss, paired with the eye contacts and the make up. They were like hentai characters straight out of any man’s wet dream.

And right now, they were behaving very much like them.

“You’re so hard right now. smooch Soooo fucking hard for mommy. smooch”

Damn. That’s a pet name Yunjin never used before. But with those glasses, she’d definitely fit as a slutty teacher. One that was currently kissing the sides of your cock ever so tenderly. Her plump lips send sensation after sensation that drives you mad.

Chaewon doesn’t say a word and just eyes your reaction as she kisses your raging erection much closer to the base. The warm air that she breathes out with every exhale causes your cock to twitch in response in her hand, as her thumb teasingly rubs your slit with ever so painful gentleness.

All you can do is moan. Heck, you’re not even out of your clothes. Your shirt is still on and your pants are around your ankles. The girls straight up just put you onto one of the chairs from the dining table and knelt right in front of you. 

Yunjin eventually pauses the kissing and signals Chaewon to stop as well. She gives your cocks a few lazy pumps before gathering some spit in her mouth and releasing it on the crown of your cock. The slick liquid makes her hand strokes much smoother as she spreads her saliva along your length, prepping to take your cock in whichever hole she wants. You involuntarily find yourself thrusting your hips up to fuck her coiled hand as she painfully slows down her pumps.

Watching this, Chaewon remarks:

“Bet you can’t wait to shove your cock down our slutty throats.”

“Fuck. You have no fucking idea Chae.”

“Don’t worry oppa. In due time.”

She whips out her phone with the cheetah charm dangling off the case. 

“But first, a few pics for keepsake.”

Chaewon sizes up your cock against her face. The phallic object of yours is almost as big as her face, the tip just touching the middle of her forehead. She sticks her tongue out and turns the camera on selfie mode. 

click

“Stand up oppa.”

You follow her instructions like an obedient dog.

Yunjin positions herself under you and faces the same direction as you. She then looks up at you, or rather your ball sack that rests on her forehead and breaks out into a wide grin.

Chaewon hovers the camera just above and snaps what must be a porno cover worthy picture.

“I love how fucking big this cock is… Almost as big as my whole face.”

When Yunjin moves away to let you sit back down, you see that her face is already marked with some of the precum saliva mixture that she had so diligently pumped your cock with earlier, yet she heeds no notice. The true mannerisms of a slut.

“Finally we can start,” Yunjin says, bunching her hair into a quick ponytail.

Yunjin kicks things off. She immediately gets down to business, letting your cock part those plump lips of hers and welcoming it into the wet hotness of her mouth. She slowly shoves her face down on your cock as she holds onto your thighs for support. 

Chaewon is behind her stroking her head and spurring her on with soft-spoken words of good girl and just like that. She hollows her cheeks and looks up at you with those eyes that are just screaming at you: Don’t I look so pretty today that you just want to destroy me?

Your fingers trace her jawline, admiring how she has engulfed more than half your length within the wet warmth of her mouth while showing no signs of discomfort. She slacks her jaw some more, allowing your cock to slide even more into her mouth until you feel your cock hit the back of her throat. 

“Oh fuck!”

You find yourself making a short thrust once again, this time into her mouth as you try to chase that feeling of first contact with the back of her slutty throat.

Expecting her to gag in response, you’re instead pleasantly surprised as Yunjin doesn’t flinch, and instead increases the amount of suction on your member, hollowing her cheeks out as much as possible and forcing her head down until her nose is just nuzzling against your pelvis. 

She shakes her head left and right, as if showing off that she can take you all the way with ease, before unsheathing herself from your cock and letting go of the suction with a distinct, lewd ‘pop’ sound.

You throw your head when the assault of sensations ends, finally able to take a breather. Yunjin’s skillful deepthroat making you feel everything all at once with her toe curling throat skills. All you hear is your fastened heartbeat and the faint sound of Chaewon’s giggling in the background, probably laughing at how pathetic you are after just one go. 

What brings you back to reality is Yunjin stroking your cock once again. You look down and see her smiling widely, saliva and precum coating her chin and running down the sides of her mouth.

“Too much for you to handle, baby?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to reply before she wraps her luscious lips around your member and you feel your cock gliding back in, against her tongue as she takes you in faster this time. When her nose meets your pelvis this time, she starts bobbing her head up and down. 

“Fuck, wait! Not too -”

Your cries go unanswered as Chaewon silences you with a kiss. She’s straddling you, sitting on your pelvis just above your cock. Her nude body is completely resting against yours, you can feel her leaking heat, her stiff nipples poking against your skin. She’s completely distracting you and it’s working. You’re too aroused to even continue thinking of what to say to Yunjin. You just moan into Chaewon.

Your hands move to fondle and knead Chaewon’s bubblicious butt cheeks, the two perfect mounds so pliable within your hands’ grasp.

You spread and feel for her tight hole, teasing it with your middle finger, making her moan in response, before using your other hand to strike her ass cheek with a loud smack. Her tight body is truly something you can't ever resist.

All your ears can hear now are Yunjin’s sloppy head bobs on your cock. The velocity at which she is going at now causes more saliva to spill out as you feel liquid dripping down your ball sack. Her nails grip your thighs tighter as she acclimatizes herself. You can feel her flicking her tongue along the slit of your cock down to the underside of your cock as she moves her head. 

Paired with the suction she applies as she goes down, the lack of gag reflex as she works is how Yunjin just proves why she’s the best at giving sloppy toppy. 

The amount of moaning and groaning you’re doing is embarrassing, especially as Chaewon’s naked body does its best to distract you from the sensory overload happening at your crotch. It’s just too much, Yunjin is in max slut mode.

“Fucking love your slutty mouth Yunjin…”

You can feel her smile at that remark.

Ashamed to admit, you might cum even before Chaewon gets a chance to display her own oral skills.

Yunjin quickens the pace at which she works, furiously chasing your climax because she knows you're close too. She tightly grips your cock at the base with one hand, further stimulating every movement she makes with her tongue and lips. She knows every inch of your cock and exactly what to do to make you cum and how your cock would react just as it’s about to cum.

“Fuck, Yunjin. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum,” you moan out, turning your attention to the throat demon at your crotch. You feel it coming, the floodgates are opening. Your throbbing member has been waiting far too long for this.

But all of a sudden, Yunjin releases herself from your cock, leaving it angry and twitching in the cool air of the apartment. 

“Fuck- No!”

Your hips thrust up again, trying to find Yunjin’s mouth pussy for that one last push you need but you buckle in your seat in failure, Chaewon on top of you moving along with your failed thrust. She’s unbothered, having left small bite marks on your neck and collarbone while you were chasing your climax.

“Sorry baby. Can’t let you cum without Chaewon having a turn,” she chuckles. Yunjin’s parting gift before she lets Chaewon take over is a truckload of more saliva and precum which she bubbles on her lips before spreading it on your cock.

She gives one last kiss on the underside of your crown before she stands up and Chaewon takes her place between your legs.

“Finally. I get this dick all to myself,” Chaewon smiles excitedly. She slaps your dripping cock on her face, hitting those framed glasses in the process and leaving a small trail of sex liquid on the lens. Her tongue sticks out and she runs it along the underside of your cock in one long lick.

You were excited for Yunjin to take Chaewon’s original place, eager to play with her ass and suckle on her brown areolas but it seemed that Chaewon had other plans.

“Stand up oppa.”

Both of you stand up. 

Chaewon tiptoes to your left ear and you lean down to get a good listen of what she’s about to say. 

“I want you to use me oppa. Use my slutty mouth pussy as your fleshlight and fuck your cock so far down my throat it hurts.”

You look down at Chaewon in disbelief of what she’s just said, eyes looking at her with the ‘you sure?’ look.

All Chaewon says is one mischievous little ruin me, destroy me and kneels back down, tongue out and waiting for your cock.

You can feel all the blood rushing down to your cock, her words spurring on a horny rage within you. Taking your rock hard cock in one hand, you slap it against her face a couple more times, making her wince. Your other hand is reaching for the back of her head, holding her head steady as you line your cock up with her mouth. You rub your cock all over her lips, tracing the lip gloss, taking a moment to look at how pretty she is before you fuck her face.

“Can’t wait to choke all over this fucking cock.”

Once your cock is in, your other hand reaches back as well. You push your whole length all the way in at once, her lips completely wrapped around the base of your cock. She’s still staring at you through the lenses of those fucking spectacles, the slutty hollowed-mouth expression of hers telling you that she can take it. You pause at this point, relaxing and enjoying the heat and wetness around the whole length of your shaft.

“Such a good girl, taking oppa’s cock in without any issue,” Yunjin says, watching from another chair as she starts to draw circles around her pussy lips while she sits on the dining room table.

As you draw your shaft backwards, you find it harder to pull your cock out. Not because you want to stay in her mouth forever, but because the cum slut herself is sucking so damn hard on your cock like a vacuum.

“Fuck, Chae- Please.”

She eventually yields, letting you take your cock out of her mouth, a trail of saliva following suit that eventually drops on the floor. 

“Come on oppa. You’re not going hard enough. Just keep thrusting daddy. Your good girl can-”

Her talking that much was your cue to shove your cock right back down. But Chaewon doesn’t even choke or gag. She’s a certified slut after all.

It’s not that you wanted to stop or take it easy. Yunjin’s previous assault was already so relentless, and Chaewon was just stockpiling the ecstasy you were receiving. At the rate you were furiously fucking, you were going to burst at an embarrassingly quick rate.

You just love how your cock disappears with every thrust into her mouth and how she moans against your shaft. Her eagerness to take it is such a turn on and the glasses are somehow amplifying that. 

“You better pound us that hard later,” you hear Yunjin say, her now playing with herself at an even faster rate.

“Fucking sluts the two of you,” you say, in between clenched teeth as with each thrust, you fight off the pleasure demon that is Chaewon’s mouth.

“Your slut daddy,” Chaewon says when you finally pull yourself from her mouth momentarily. You don’t even need to thrust back because the slut finds your balls to latch on and suck. Her mouth just does not wish to ever detach itself from your cock.

Yunjin climbs down from the table and kneels next to Chaewon. You grab Chaewon’s phone from the table and take a picture of the lewd sight before you, two good sluts before your phallus, ready to play face fuck roulette.

After taking the picture, you immediately place a hand behind each girl’s head so they don’t know whose mouth pussy you were going to use first.

“Fuck you’re both so fucking beautiful, so fucking slutty,” you say before thrusting into Yunjin’s lips with one powerful action. You then pull out and shove your cock into Chaewon’s smaller mouth, while Yunjin gasps for air after expecting you to choose Chaewon’s mouth pussy first.

“Fucking love being ahegao sluts hmm? I’ll treat you both like one.”

You repeat the same sequence. Pistoning your cock between Yunjin’s lips, then into Chaewon’s inviting cavern. 

Yunjin. Chaewon. Yunjin. Chaewon. Chaewon. Yunjin. Slut. Slut.

Even your mind is failing to function properly, hips just thrusting into whoever's slutty mouth your eyes meet. 

The air is filled with slurps on slurps of cock. You toss your head back in pure bliss, not even looking where your cock is going because you know that if either of the girls see your cock moving in the wrong trajectory, they’ll move to intercept it, knowing rightfully where your cock needs to be at this moment, in either one of their throats, all the way in till it reaches the back.

You can’t fight your urges anymore. You tilt your head back down at them, the two damsels just staring up at you or your cock, saliva dripping down the corners of their mouth, their chins already full coated. Some of the sticky mixture is trailing down their chest in the valley between their breasts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” is all you scream out as your pace begins slowing down. The girls notice this and take matters into their own hands, taking turns fucking their faces onto your cock as you begin lazily thrusting instead. They’re still looking at you with anticipation, knowing you’re so fucking close.

“Gonna cum, huh? Gonna cum all over our faces?” Yunjin says as Chaewon slurps you up. 

“Cum for us daddy. Paint us with that thick, creamy load of yours,” Chaewon says as Yunjin has her go. 

“Cumming. Cumming. Fucking-”

You don’t even get your sentence out, or your cock fully out of Yunjin’s mouth as the first spurt is released in her mouth. The second load flies far across Yunjin’s face, covering her glasses, her forehead, and her cheek. You quickly move to face Chaewon as the third, most powerful spurt causes her to wince and jerk back when it splatters right smack on her face, dripping down her glasses as well. Both of them are making the same ahegao expression as the selfie they sent before, tongue sticking all the way out to catch your cum and eyes rolled back like sluts. Some of your cum splashes onto her neck, your aim abysmal through the feeling of release. You turn back to Yunjin as the remainder of your load empties out. 

“Give it to me baby, give it to mommy,” Yunjin spurs you on, helping you stroke your cock now. She manages to milk a few more spurts out of you and onto her cheek, before letting go. 

You fling your cock at Chaewon, making sure not a single drop is wasted, before letting go of your wet shaft to admire your two artworks. Chaewon gives you one lazy long slurp, humming happily while your cum trickles down her features. She simply just refuses to let go of your cock. You can’t even see her left eye because the left lens of the spectacles has a huge drop of cum on it.

Yunjin feels a dab of cum just to the right of her mouth and uses her thumb to swipe it into her mouth.

You slump back into the wooden chair, catching your breath after not realising you were holding your breath throughout your climax.

"Thanks for the load daddy."

The two girls kiss each other sloppily through cum coated lips, completely unbothered that they’re covered in cum, some of it in their hair.

“Holy fucking shit. That was-”

“Not the end of it,” Yunjin says.

You watch as they both get up and reach for some items.

Chaewon pulls out a bottle of lavender massage oil from a cabinet, while Yunjin holds a pair of stockings.

We’re just getting started daddy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

im trying to churn out a few more fics but i keep getting distracted by other idols when i start a new draft. anyways i hope y'all enjoy this one.