#back then i didn't even dare to mess with coloring
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khaopybara · 2 days ago
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KHAOTUNG THANAWAT as RAY PAKORN episode 10 of ONLY FRIENDS
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chososrightnipple · 3 months ago
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❝𝐤𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬❞
a/n: as usual, afab!body w/no gendered language. y'all i swear i'm back surely... i totally don't work five eight and a half hour shifts in a row after this... not at all.... anyway didn't include all of the hashira just because i don't want this to feel too overcrowded, might do a part two though if anyone wants a specific character. enjoy!
── დ ──
. *. ⋆ SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA
▸ face fucking. he loves taking his frustration out on your poor throat, especially after particularly drama filled hashira meetings. watching the way the spit dribbles past your lips and how your eyes roll into the back of your head so unashamedly.
▸ spit kink. he goes crazy for it fr. having you kneel in front of him as he takes ahold of your jaw. forcing your mouth open and instructing you to stick your tongue out before spitting. he moans so beautifully when you readily accept his gift and swallow.
▸ choking. he loves the feeling of wrapping his hands around your throat and squeezing, seeing how your cheeks redden. enjoying the choked gasps you struggle getting out with every thrust inside of you.
▸ degradation. he's got a mouth on him, that's for sure. insults upon insults thrown at you, practically babbling about how much you're a dirty whore- his dirty whore- the closer he gets to his orgasm.
▸ brat taming. breaking you down until your nothing but a shivering mess. you always just have to give him attitude, don't you? running your mouth until he's forced to put you back in your place.
. *. ⋆ GIYUU TOMIOKA
▸ hair puling. both giving and receiving. shamelessly moaning anytime your fingers brush against his scalp, yanking at the hair while his tongue licks at your trembling walls.
▸ body worship. he's so fucking in love with you and that's especially in the bedroom. he spends hours memorizing your body, trailing your curves, kissing at the dips in your skin. all before he even thinks of fucking you.
▸ bondage. intricately tying your wrists and ankles to bedposts, the roughness of the rope scratching at your skin with every pull. he'll stand above you for a few seconds after, just watching how you squirm against the restraints.
▸ cock warming. sometimes he's just so bone tired from it all. he just needs to feel you, nothing more. sitting you on his lap and sinking his cock into your welcoming walls. face burying into your neck and savoring the feeling.
▸ sensory deprivation. goes kind of hand in hand with his love of tying you up. he has an extensive collection of silk ribbons, in all kinds of colors, that he'll have you model for him later that night.
. *. ⋆TENGEN UZUI
▸semi-public. he's so daring with it, really. when he wants you, he wants you, and he's not ashamed of that. fucking you in too small closets as maids at the butterfly mansion pass by, or on the top of a roof where nightlife bustles below.
▸ size kink. he's fucking huge, towering over you in every sense of the word. seeing how your lips struggle stretching around his cock or how small your hand is compared to his- it drives him absolutely insane.
▸ breeding. my god please don't get me started on this.., he wants to cum inside of you so bad, anytime and every time he fucks you. thinking of how sexy you'd look all round with his baby!!
▸ humiliation. just like sanemi, this man has a mouth on him. seeing how your cheeks redden and you stutter anytime he calls you out on being such a whore for him- it's adorable, he just can't help it.
▸ orgasm denial. such a tease with it, too. lets you think he's gonna let you cum this time around, only to pull completely away from your skin as soon as your on that edge. cooing at how you cry at him, apologizing for being so mean, even if he doesn't really mean it.
. *. ⋆KYUOJURO RENGOKU
▸ breeding. best friends think alike, right? pls just make this man a daddy already. he's so desperate for it. rutting inside of you for the third time in a night, all to cum inside your pretty pussy.
▸ cunnilingus. oh, he is such a big pussy eater. sometimes it's just so much with him. large arms wrapping around the thighs that squeeze either side of his head, lapping at your pussy like it's his last meal and he's a man starved.
▸ eye contact. grabbing at your jaw, forcing your gaze to his, instructing you to keep it there. he's eyes are so intense, so fiery. boring into you with every thrust inside- taking in the dilation of your pupils and the flutter of your pretty eyelashes.
▸ overstimulation. most times he doesn't even mean to do it, y'know? you just feel so good, and he's chasing that high over and over again until you're jelly in his arms, feeling pleasure so painfully.
▸ dry humping. his favorite foreplay. the atmosphere thick as you both huddle close, grinding and frotting against each other. anything for friction. until he gets so desperate for your touch that he's ripping your clothes off right then and there.
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teamred · 3 months ago
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so contagious
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✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x reader | fluff | smut | 2.8k
SUMMARY | following the kissing from your movie night, logan takes you out on a proper date, while you take him back to your place afterwards. // part two of any other way
WARNINGS | smut, breastplay, oral s*x (female receiving), piv s*x, unprotected s*x // this is 70% fluff - 30% smut!
RATING | explicit
NOTES | i didn't intend to make a part two, but so many of you loved it, i had to give it a shot! this one is from logan's perspective. yes, i know this logan is a bit ooc, but, in my head, this takes place some time after worst!logan enters wade's universe and he's softened up. please leave some love if you enjoy it!
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Logan has absolutely no idea what he's doing.
Standing in front of the living room mirror, he debates if he should choose the pale blue plaid shirt he's currently wearing or one of his brown ones instead. But if he chooses the latter, it'd be too similar to the one he wore when you saw him yesterday. 
Overthinking isn't his style, and yet here he is, obsessing over something as trivial as his shirt color. It’s been decades since he’s been on a proper date, maybe even ever.
“Well, don't you look handsome,” Wade cuts through his thoughts with a grin and folded arms, peeling himself away from the kitchen door frame. He saunters over, reaching out to touch Logan’s hair, only for the larger man to shove him away immediately. 
“Not now, Wade.”  
Wade sniffs his hand dramatically. “Oh, my God–you even used hair product! This is so exciting. It's like witnessing a teenager on his first date. I feel like your mom!”
“Well, Mom,” Logan refocuses on the mirror, fixing the mess Wade made of his hair, “you can fuck off.” 
Wade points a finger at him with mock sternness. “Hey, watch your language, young man.” 
Then, to Logan’s surprise, Wade grows momentarily quiet as he stands next to him, both facing the mirror. “Also, the blue shirt’s the better choice.” 
“Yeah?” Logan quirks an eyebrow, glancing over at the brown plaid shirts laid out on the couch. 
“Yeah,” replies Wade softly, and Logan catches a genuine smile in the mirror. The heartfelt moment doesn’t last long though when Wade claps him on the back. “And don’t be so nervous, Wolvie. You already went to second base with her last night. The deal’s pretty much sealed.” 
Logan scowls. “I’m not nervous.” 
“Mm-hmm. You say that, but you’re being even more testy than usual. Dare I blame it on the hormones?” Suddenly, he plants a quick kiss on Logan’s cheek.
“What the fuck?!” 
Logan recoils, then almost lunges at him instinctively. However, Wade’s already retreating and walking backwards, making a beeline to his bedroom with a wave of his hand. 
“Be back by curfew, sweetie! But text me if you’ll be out late, or if you need anything. Some snacks, some condoms—” 
“Wade!” he growls, his patience wearing thin. 
Wade blows an air kiss, disappearing into his room. “Love ya! And you got this!” 
Logan mumbles to himself, “Yeah, I sure hope so.”  
Turning to the mirror for one final check, he adjusts his collar and straightens his shirt. His phone vibrates on the living room table and he reads the incoming texts from Laura: 
- hey sorry for the late reply - but if you haven’t gone out already, i prefer the blue over the brown - not that it matters though - she’ll find you handsome either way - don’t worry! it’ll go well :) 
Logan nods, reassured by Laura’s texts. It’s just a date with someone he’s already known for a little while; it’s not like a blind date or anything. He can do this. 
With one last look in the mirror to check his hair and beard, he grabs his keys and wallet, slings his dark brown leather jacket over his shoulder, and heads out the door.
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Logan pulls up in front of your apartment complex and gives you a quick call to let you know he’s here. When you step out of the building, his eyes can’t help but sweep over you—fitted jeans hugging your curves, an off-the-shoulder top that shows just enough, and that stunning smile that lights up your face.
He notices you checking him out too. Realizing that his hair might be messy, he quickly combs his fingers through it as you stroll over. 
“Long time, no see,” you joke, referencing how you saw him just yesterday.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Logan greets, trying to sound more relaxed than he feels. He holds a helmet out to you, but catches how his grip is more tense than usual. “You ready for a ride?” 
You nod, eyes sparkling with excitement. As he steps away from his bike to help you with the helmet, he finds it endearing how you lift your chin and pout a little, making it easier for him to secure the straps. He hopes his touch isn’t too rough, but when your eyes meet his and you smile up at him, he knows he must be doing something right.
With his hands so close to your face, his mind flashes to how he palmed your cheeks and neck last night as he kissed you deeply. It’s presumptuous, but he hopes for a repeat tonight. 
Once you hop on the bike behind him and wrap your arms snugly around his waist, he revels in the warmth of your body against his. As he weaves through the city streets, he occasionally glances back to make sure you’re comfortable. 
Logan thinks to himself how good this feels, to ride around freely with someone he cares for by his side. It’s been awhile since he’s let someone get this close to him… 
Maybe he could get used to this. 
Eventually, he pulls up at an old diner he’s grown fond of across town. The place gives him a sense of nostalgia, a reminder of simpler times (and, even though he tries not to think of it, it also brings back memories of that one time with Wade in the Void).
He offered to take you here because it’s familiar, cozy, and he didn’t want to overthink this date with reservations to some high-end restaurant.
Walking across the mostly empty restaurant, a waitress leads you both to a window booth, where you sit across from each other.
At first, there’s a bit of awkwardness—Logan recommends what’s good on the menu, and you take a moment to decide what to order. His foot taps on the floor as he peeks over the menu, sitting in the silence uncomfortably. 
But once the waitress takes your orders, conversation flows more easily, just like it normally does at Wade’s get-togethers.
You check in with how Laura’s doing, if he and Wade have been on any more assignments recently, and how his motorcycle is running since he fixed it last. 
Logan’s grateful you’re leading the conversation and asking questions; it’s always been easier for him to listen than to talk. 
But he’s putting in effort tonight—he takes it upon himself to know about your life outside of work, if you’ve been reading anything lately, and how you felt about the ride over to the diner.
“A little scary, but it was fun!” you grin, resting your chin in your palm. “I’m just glad it’s you driving it. Like I said yesterday, I always feel comfortable and safe around you, Logan.” 
As your foot brushes against his under the table, Logan’s gaze meets yours. You flash him a shy smile, and before he can think twice, his foot instinctively strokes yours in return. A flicker of doubt crosses his mind—Is this the kind of thing people do on dates?—but your soft giggles melt away his hesitation. The lighthearted game continues until the arrival of your food.
You dig into your food, and a random thought crosses your mind. “Have you ever used your claws to cut your food?” 
Logan pauses mid-bite, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. “You know, in all of my two-hundred years of living, I’ve never really thought to try it.” 
“Probably ‘cause you always have a knife around,” you say. 
“Probably,” he smirks. With a glint in his eyes, he unsheathes his claws and the sound makes you jump slightly in your seat. 
“Whoa,” you whisper, eyes widening in awe. Logan realizes you’ve never seen them before. Slowly, he extends his hand, the blades gleaming under the diner lights. 
“Go ahead,” says Logan softly. “Just be careful.” 
You reach out carefully, your fingers grazing the cool, polished metal. You’re both unusually quiet, your attention fully on each other.
Once you pull away, he turns back to his plate with a slight grin. “Okay, let’s see how this goes.”
With surprising finesse, he slices through his burger using his claws, the action both impressive and a little absurd to witness. 
You burst into laughter, the sound contagious as he joins in. “Logan, I think you need to stop before you break the plate.” 
He chuckles, retracting his claws and grabbing a sliced up chunk of his burger. “Yeah, probably a good idea. At least we know the answer to that question now.”
As you move on to dessert, you savor a slice of cheesecake while Logan indulges in a slice of apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. When he’s almost done, Logan takes a slow lick off his spoon and catches you staring at him. 
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” he asks with a playful smile, raising an eyebrow as he takes another bite of pie.
You scarf down the last few bites of your cheesecake before answering. 
“Okay, I have to ask—” you lower your voice and lean in across the table “—can you actually smell how horny someone is?”
Logan freezes mid-chew, remembering what happened yesterday before you left.
“Fucking Wade…” he mutters, shaking his head. After a beat, he sighs. “Do I really have to answer that question?”
You gasp, covering your mouth with both hands. “Oh, my God, you totally can…” 
All Logan gives you is a brief laugh and a shake of his head. He fishes for his wallet, tosses some cash onto the table, and then stands up with a grin. “C’mon, gorgeous. Let’s get outta here.”
As he pulls you to your feet, you ask half suspiciously and half in jest, “Are you saying that because you can smell something or…?” 
“Maybe, maybe not...” he teases. He grabs your hand, fingers intertwining with yours, and leads you to the door. “Either way, let’s head out. C’mon.” 
As you step outside and Logan helps you with your helmet again, you look up at him with a different look this time than before—one that signifies that the night’s only beginning. 
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As you fumble with your keys in front of your apartment door, Logan steps in from behind and grips one side of your waist. He leans in, pulling you close, and kisses the crook in your neck. You inhale sharply, losing focus as you melt into his touch. 
After you finally manage to unlock the door, Logan quickly shuts the door behind him before he presses you up against the wall. Initially, you share an intense kiss, but it soon becomes fervent and open-mouthed. Rough edges of his beard even brush against your lips at some points. 
Both parties quickly kick off their shoes. He peels off his leather jacket and aids you with yours. Still lip-locked, he then lifts you up and has you wrap your legs around his waist; his evident desire presses against your body. 
Logan drags your top off, his heated kisses trailing from your mouth, to your neck, and down to your clavicle. His mouth leaves love upon your breasts before he pushes your strapless bra down. You gasp as his push is so rough, the bra merely snaps off and falls away towards the floor.
But Logan doesn’t stop—he hones his attention towards your hardened tips, sucking and nipping with a fervor that makes him lose himself in you.
The moans that fill your entryway only drive him crazy further, along with your fingers tugging at his hair tightly. His hands are needy, kneading your other breast with a blend of tender and strength. After a moment, he pulls back, gently setting your legs back onto the floor.
He kisses his way down from your breasts to your stomach, dropping to his knees in front of you. Logan blinks up at you as he helps unbutton your jeans, pulling them and your panties off and tossing them aside. The sight of you, completely bare and vulnerable, only heightens his desire.
He kisses your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin as he moves towards your core. The scent of your arousal is unmistakable and intoxicating, but it’s the way your body reacts to him that drives him wild. Lifting one of your legs over his shoulders, he dives in without hesitation, his tongue exploring your wetness.
His tongue skillfully works over your most sensitive areas, each touch and flick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you. Logan is so immersed in the moment, he feels like he's freefalling, lost in the intensity of it all.
The need to be inside you drives him to a point of near frenzy, his own body responding with instinctive thrusts. Each lick and suck against your folds is fuelled by both the need to make you feel good and to be desperately inside of you.
“Logan, Logan—” 
You shatter and unravel for him, jerking your hips against his mouth. He holds you still, securing your orgasm rides out fully. Once you do, he stands up and kisses you gently, intermingling your taste with his tongue.
Dazed, you hook your fingers with a couple of his and lead him towards your bedroom. You lay yourself on the bed first, while he watches you as he strips his shirt and tank top. He sees the inflamed hunger in your eyes at the sight of his entirety. 
Crawling over to you on the bed, his hands roam your body, caressing you passionately before the next part. When he finally undoes his jeans and belts and throws them aside, he looks at you intently. 
“Do you have—?”  
You shush him with a finger, whispering, “Just get inside me, Logan.” 
A smirk spreads across his face as he aligns himself with your slit, teasing you slightly before sliding in. Being inside you draws out a low groan from him, while you throw your head back and expel a long moan.
When you finally acclimatize to his girth, he starts to thrust slowly and kisses you throughout. It’s so easy for him to lose control, to get this over and done with, but he wants to make sure it feels good for you as it does for him. 
But it doesn’t help when your hands dig into his back and your walls clench harder around him. 
“Faster, please,” you beg. 
He checks in with a smug grin, cocking his head slightly. “You sure, gorgeous?” 
You nod breathlessly, “Please, Logan.” 
And that’s enough to make him lose all restraint. He picks up the pace, his movements becoming more intense and primal. His thumb circles your clit, and the combination of his hard thrusts and gentle touch brings you over the edge in unison. He ensures you’re satisfied first before he pulls out and marks you with his release. 
Panting, he catches his breath, and grazes the back of his knuckles against your thigh. Logan turns to look at you. “You ready for round two, beautiful?” 
You laugh with disbelief and exhilaration. “Wait, round two alr—?” 
Logan cuts you off with a deep kiss, his grin wide and satisfied. He feels you smiling into his kiss, your excitement matching his own. 
Oh yeah—he definitely could get used to this.
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EPILOGUE — ONE WEEK LATER 
Back at Wade, Logan, and Blind Al’s apartment during another weekend get-together, you’re seated next to Logan at the dining room table, caught up in a quiet conversation with him amidst the animated chaos around you. 
Suddenly, Wade appears behind you, throwing his arms around you both and playfully squishing you together.
“Say ‘thank you, Mommy Wade for our beautiful dating life and we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you and I’m gonna name our kid after you and—’” 
“What the hell is happening?” you cut in, looking at your new boyfriend. 
“Just ignore him, baby,” Logan groans, shaking his head. 
“Already using terms of endearment? Y’all move fast,” Wade quips. “And is that any way to treat the person who got you two lovebirds together?” 
“Hey, I helped too,” Laura interjects from Logan’s side.
Wade waves her off dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. You might’ve mentioned something here and there, but I saw the vision, and not Wanda’s, might I add.” 
“I’m not gonna call you ‘Mommy Wade,’ but I will thank you.” You lean over and give him a quick peck on the cheek. He gasps theatrically and ruffles your hair with exaggerated affection. Times like these remind you why Wade has always been one of your closest friends. 
“Well,” says Wade, as he steps back to return to his seat, “at least one of you appreciates Cupid Wade’s handiwork.”
Later, while you’re chatting with Yukio and Ellie, you notice out of the corner of your eye Logan and Wade exchanging glances across the room. Logan gives Wade a small, grateful nod. 
“Thank you, Wade,” Logan mouths, his expression soft and sincere. 
“Anytime, Wolvie,” Wade mouths back with a wink, raising his beer in a mock toast. 
You catch Logan’s eye, and both of you share a smile that speaks more than words ever could.
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hypnagogics · 5 months ago
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before you read ▪︎ loose continuation to THIS
ultra loser!ellie x teasing(slightly sadistic tbh)!reader. reads fine as a standalone!! no fr sex, but still nsfw!!! loads of teasing, ellie's shy and flustered (also gave her glasses and piercings muahahah AND HAPPY TRAIL MENTION YAYYY), reader's a little insistent (but it's ok), mentions of masturbation, discussion of sex, REALLY horny making out at the end lol, heavy petting, they almost do it, tiny abby cameo, buildup AS PER USUAL YALL KNOW THE DRILL, kinda cliffhanger ending (its on purpose HAHA), different layout bc i cheated n looked at the poll oops...NGL TS HAD ME SWEATINGGG WRITING IT LMFAO don't think i have ever written something more horny....ok enjoy! + 2.2k wc
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apparently both of you missed the professor's class cancellation email on this fateful day… other students showed up too, but they left quickly after seeing it was empty. ellie stayed to catch up on some work, enjoying the silence and typing away on her laptop, which looked like one of those beefy gaming computers.
covered in stickers and the keys changing color, you thought it was interesting she'd lug that thing around campus with her, instead of opting for something light and sleek. and now that leaves you. you had no other plans for the day, and had already mentally prepared yourself for this class, totally unaware it was canceled.
you realized it wasn't a bad idea to copy ellie, and catch up on some of your own work. however you were more intrigued by her, to be totally honest with yourself.
watching her from a distance, she captivated you. she never seemed to notice your stares, too absorbed in her thoughts. you watched her type, efficiently and quickly, pausing only to push her glasses further up her nose with her slim fingers.
the truth is, she's hot. but no one was hearing you out on that, unfortunately. they'd say to you, “what a loser! i don't think i've ever heard her talk.”
you felt overwhelmed by the urge to strike up a real conversation with her—more that simple greetings or coursework questions— and it was the perfect opportunity to do just that. so you got up, sat yourself down in the empty spot right next to her, and put on the most charming grin you could muster up. she abruptly snapped out of her focus, almost flinching at your presence.
“hey! you're ellie, right? whatcha working on?” you got close to her to see, being met with a bunch of hieroglyphic-looking strings of symbols on the screen. woah, smarty-pants. “um, it's just…some project, i dunno. how d’you know my name?”
she finally looked at you, her eyes round, wider than the ufo saucer stickers on the back of her computer. they were so green, the hazel ring reminded you of a polished agate stone. the scattered freckles on her face were so pretty too, you'd never been close enough to her to really take notice. she nervously scanned your features, blotches of pink blush decorating the apples of her plump cheeks.
she was so cute, and noticing her evident shyness flipped a switch inside you, what if you messed with her a little?
you shrugged at her, “just seen you around. you're so mysterious.” you lilt, manipulating your tone to make it smoother on the ears, even containing hints of seduction if you dared.
she blushed a deeper raspberry shade and looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her rings. she was somehow getting more attractive by the second, your heart felt like it was about to burst.
“am i? never thought of it that way, you're funny.” she mumbles, her antsiness obvious. but you didn't wish to let up so soon, you were having a lot more fun flustering her than you'd ever care to admit, even wanting to see just how far you could push her.
“ooh, i love your rings. where did you get em?” “just…places. why are you asking me so many questions?” you sighed and rolled your eyes, “well, ellie. we both don't have anything else to do, gotta pass the time somehow. i wanna talk with you, is that okay?” she took a deep breath and nodded, visibly relaxing. she stretched out her arm to get rid of the tabs on her computer, close it, and put it in her bag, which is when you got a look at her forearm tattoo.
“also i'm obsessed with your tattoo, you have no idea how cool you are, how are girls not all over you?” you question, taking her wrist in your hands and examining the tattoo's intricate line work, tracing your fingertips over the pigment in her skin.
you heard her breathing change in tempo, quickening ever so slightly. but she didn't move her arm away, and let you continue. she took a second to respond. “um. thanks, i guess. i don't really know what you mean.” her voice cracked when she said the last part, igniting a flame inside you, one that you didn't know existed.
your mind wandered, you began wondering what she sounds like when she whimpers. was she really so starved of human contact you could mold her like putty, just with your fingers and tongue? you wanted to find out so badly, wanted to hear how she'd cry your name out if you fucked her into oblivion. was she a squirter or a creamer? you hoped to the heavens above you'd get to find out someday. maybe it was too much to fantasize like this, considering you formally met just now, but you weren't hurting anyone if it all never left the confines of your mind.
you were lucky you hid your own arousal well, nothing out of the ordinary showed on your face whatsoever. ellie wasn't so lucky—to her dismay, but to your delight—everything played out on her delicate features so clearly, it was nothing short of delectable. 
your eyes bore into hers, the intensity of the eye contact making her shiver, and attempt to break it. “ellie, ellie, ellie, may i call you els?” you didn't wait for an answer, and continued, “do you have a girlfriend?” you pouted your lips at her, feigning sadness as if her response was something you didn't already infer.
she was stuttering now, stumbling over her words, making less and less sense as the conversation went on. she was anxiously bouncing her leg, you could see her chest rising and falling, and her face had turned a lovely crimson color, it was so strong, the flush had spread down her neck and reached her ears, making her piercings stand out. good lord. 
“ahem- no, i don't have a girlfriend. actually never have, shocking i know.” she chuckles at her self-deprecating joke, and while her smile was enough to light up a room, you wanted to slap the doubt out of her. or rather, fuck it out of her. 
you exhaled loudly, “hahh, well isn't that a shame. you're so pretty, i'll just have to snatch you up for myself then.” she swallowed audibly, greatly taken aback. “sorry, what?” “oh, don't you know how much people love losers like you? tsk tsk tsk, you're so much hotter than you realize, i mean it, els. look at you! you've got these piercings, this tattoo, you're smarter than this whole class combined, seriously.” 
she just gaped at you, unable to process what she was hearing. no one had ever talked to her like this, it was only something she read about. and coming from you? this ethereal person who starred in all of her most intimate fantasies? she rubbed her eyes roughly, convinced she was hallucinating. her mouth opened and closed dumbly, her voice box failing to produce any sound. but you were affecting her so much, especially because she lusted after you to an extent she could only take to the grave.
flashes of her midnight escapades flickered in her mind, of her shoving her hand down her pants like an animal in heat, orgasming so intensely she'd black out, abusing her hole with nothing but images of you playing in her mind, and your name on her tongue. her cheeks burned with the embarrassment of her wild actions, and she shook her head to clear the thoughts away. 
you groaned and leaned back in your own seat, exclaiming, “god i'm so bored. and pent up, fuck. it's been so long since i had sex…” that was true. in any other situation you'd never say something like that aloud, but because you were alone with the clueless idiot you wanted so carnally, you let it slip. 
“...maybe you should take care of that.” you heard her cough out, her voice coming out strangled. “i could. but that's boring.” you opened your eyes again and smirked devilishly her way, poor girl looked like she was about to go on a trip with the ferryman. 
you grabbed her hand, examining it some more, commenting, “you play guitar, don't you? guitarists are very good with their hands, i will say.” you played with her hand, pressing it into a fist, then extending her middle and ring finger. gosh, what's gotten into you? “i bet you're sooo good.” 
you've never seen a person look more flustered than she did right now in this moment. her voice was impossibly quiet, barely above a whisper, “cut it out.” “okay, fine.”
some beats of silence passed, but a thought crossed your mind. if she really hated this interaction that much, she could have got up and left eons ago, yet she stayed here and endured it all. hmm. you blurted out, “els, have you kissed anyone before?” 
and again she stayed silent, even after you waited patiently for an answer. she kept looking away, her jaw tense. 
you decided to quit the teasing just for a moment, and speak to her gently, genuinely. you shifted to sit a little closer to her and asked, “do you want to?” her gaze locked onto your mouth, she licked her lips, then muttered, “if you're really offering and not just fucking with me, sure-” 
your patience broke and you didn't wait for her to finish her sentence before swiftly leaning forward and connecting your lips with hers, relishing the tiny gasp she made as soon as you did it. she tasted like a dream.
after a split second she kissed you back, it was inexperienced and clumsy, fueled by adrenaline, but she got into a rhythm soon enough. you took the lead and deepened the kiss, absent-mindedly tugging on her bottom lip with your teeth, coaxing eager whimpers out of her, pure music to your ears.
you succumbed to the sensations and increased the pace, your tongue dancing against hers. you felt her hands fumble by your waist, and she pulled you closer to her. your hands clawed at her chest, the beautiful symphony of panting, the wet smacking of your lips colliding, and her uncontrolled moans filled the empty room.
she gripped your waist so tightly, fingertips surely leaving small marks in their wake, you couldn't wait to find them later, and you shamelessly felt up her chest, your thumbs finding her nipples—perky, hard, and poking out through her thin shirt. you caressed and rubbed and squeezed, feeling her jolt under your magical touch.
she was fully whining now. spilling needy, high-pitched sounds, this was better than you could've ever imagined. neither one of you breaking the kiss for even a second, your hand trailed lower and landed on her stomach, slipping under the bottom of her shirt. you felt her defined abs tensing, and the whisper of a happy trail—now it was your turn to moan.
she got even louder and her kisses got sloppier, and you were about to venture inside her waistband before a sudden sound startled you both. 
your phone vibrated aggressively, and with great effort you separated yourself from ellie, long strings of spit connecting you to her still.
she whimpered from the loss of contact, chasing your lips, then huffing and quietly groaning while you took out your phone, her hands not letting go of your waist. when you checked it, it was a message from your friend, abby, just saying: URGENT. COME HERE NOW. ASAP.
fuck her. fuck her and her timing, was all you could think. really, now? you wanted to kill her.
trying to slow your breathing and racing heart, you explained apologetically, “ugh, it's urgent. im so, so sorry ellie, i gotta go.” she stared at you, speechless, but nodded meekly, reluctantly retracting her arms. you didn't want to leave, and stayed gazing at her for a little longer, and brushed a loose strand of soft hair out of her face. what a cutie, she looked all disheveled and dazed. you were about to look for a paper to scribble down your number to keep in touch, until your phone buzzed again, and started ringing with abby's repeated attempts to get ahold of you. couldn't she wait a minute?
you gave ellie one last devastated look, getting up and rushing out of the classroom before abby called you another seventeen times. 
ellie was left in the classroom, reeling from the encounter and what it had turned into. she was utterly bewildered at the events that transpired, her blood rushing in her ears, mind spinning, lips still puffy, glasses fogged over, hands trembling, and of course a sticky, uncomfortable damp spot in her boxers. she leaned forward to rest her head on the desk in front of her on top of crossed arms, to take a moment to cool down before escaping back to her place. 
“holy shit.” 
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im horny🧍‍♂️just like ellie after that. as soon as she got home, u best believe she came so hard she saw literal angels and deities LMFAOO (this is my favorite thing ive ever written gawdDAYUM)
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yall who wanted more, hope this suffices as a continuation! @stonerzdaze420692 @womenlvrrr
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DPXDC prompt. Adult!Danny x Sleep-deprived!Constantine: We seem to have a misunderstanding.
Warlock was willing to admit that the Phantom’s company was mostly useful and not unpleasant. Because of the specifics of his work they had to meet quite often. It was nice to be at least a little sure that you wouldn’t get stabbed in the back. The new ghost king seemed to be amused by the World of the Living and that was quite useful. In addition, the Infinite Realms had a history of endless conflicts with Hell, so when demons was messing with him, Phantom was happy to put sticks in their wheels.
However, the current enemy of the League was another alien. Both John and Phantom happened to be nearby. But it seems ghost had no reason to help Hellblazer now, as this fight had nothing to do with his kingdom. Given that Batman had explicitly instructed John to stay on the battlefield, it seemed that if John Constantine wanted to count on a weekend, he would have to use his trump card now.
Constantine: In view of the urgency of the situation, I would like to make a proposal. Life offers many challenges. I know I can meet them if you're willing to face them with me. In the spirit of saving time..[holding up a ring] This is for you. You in?
Phantom: I..I don’t know, John. I mean i want to say yes but It’s all so sudden. Please gimme some time to think, okay? And let me help to deal with these invaders first and then we’ll talk about it.
John: ..Sure?
~~~~~
Tucker: Whoa crazy battle dude. John: Civilians are not allowed here. Danny: It's all right. We were going to meet at a cafe, but now, well, there is no cafe. I mean, he's with me and not so civilian, okay?Ehem..John, meet my best friend Tucker. Tucker, meet my..Em, this is John, and he's kinda my John. It's new for us.
Damn. He was in a hurry and offered more than he should have. It turns out the ghost had an interest in protecting the city. It is unlikely that he would allow the destruction of the place where one of his humans lives.
And worst of all, Phantom did not accept the ring (for which John had to hunt for several months) as payment. Constantine got it specially in case he needed a favor or a way to calm the anger of the spirit he was starting to get along with. Like, really, John spent a fair amount to own the artifact which would have neutralized the consequences of wearing a ring of rage. But Ghost didn’t want it? Why? And yet he helped. So John was in debt.
And how it's all at a bad time. The peace treaty and the treaty of cooperation between the States and the Infinite Realms was concluded only recently. Of course John didn't even have time to discuss the terms of their deal because the blushing ghost flew away to fight but to say that he won't pay for the service is like admitting that you want to start a new conflict. Constantine was starting to have a headache. He'll think about it when he gets at least a couple of hours of sleep. Whatever payment the ghost needs, it can wait a couple of hours.
~~~~~
But as it turned out, the ghost couldn’t make up his mind and decide what he wanted from him. He started showing up at John’s place and looking at him thoughtfully, also recently dragged him to pick out a suit. How he could be mistaken for a stylist John did not understand but preferred not to unnerve a potential ally.
Moreover, for some reason the chaotic creature decided that he had the right to condemn John for always forgetting to have dinner or take a bath. This scoundrel dared to lock him in a bathroom with strange scented candles and colored water. Whatever these bath bombs were, dumb spirit failed to poison him but now John smelled like peaches. Disgusting.
After breaking down the door he found the same mess with candles on the kitchen table. Phantom fought a fierce battle with the green goo in the pot that he brought to John's house, but eventually gave up and they ordered delivery. All in all, it was a pleasant evening. Of course John didn't admit it but for some reason Danny decided that he could make such a mess every Friday.
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~~~~~
Danny: So..me and Morningstar are friends now. Do you mind? I know you don’t get along very well. John: Why should I care? Your friends are your business. Considering you’re crazy about the stars I’m surprised you’re not sleeping with their maker.
Danny: Hell no, Lightbringer is great. And I’m glad he’s sharing with me what I wouldn’t find in books but I would never cheat on my partner. John: Good to know. (Wow, who knew the Phantom has a lover.)
~~~~~
Morningstar: I have no idea what you see in this arrogant man, stardust.
Phantom: I don’t know. It’s interesting to be around him. You never know what’s going to happen tomorrow. And his determination and sarcastic nature are really charming.
Morningstar: Well, I’ll get rid of some of his contracts for your wedding but only because I like you and not because I’m willing to deal with this liar.
Phantom: Thanks, Luci,  you’re the best.
Morningstar:That’s true. But it's not free. I need you as a babysitter to keep Spawn busy while, well, Detective and I are busy.
Phantom: No problem :)
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enmie · 4 months ago
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*♡∞:。.。 Just a Nap 。.。:∞♡*
➶ bllk's Sae, Kaiser, Rin, and Shidou and their goofy selves try to make you prove your love
➶ they fake sleep and you carry them back to bed
➶ poll results. cw: cussing. insults. implied fem reader
𓅪 first bllk fic lesgoo
𓅪 this took three polls. THREE.
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
Sae Itoshi's
Each tick of the clock, each breath from your lips, each blink of your eye— you watched Sae's sleeping presence. He looked so peaceful you didn't dare disturb him, no matter how much of a trouble maker you were to him. There was something so off and comforting about his shallow breaths, in comparison to his usual stoic attitude, the one that pushes you away. But you stay anyway.
And he thinks he's such a little trickster.
Sae's eyelids flutter to to take a peek at what you were doing, his breathing shallow and soft to make the act convincing. Of course he's fake sleeping. He would never fall asleep in front of you.
He flinches. No, he doesn't jump, but he internally flinches when you attempt to stand him up from the couch, his one arm flung over your shoulder. It was one hell of a movie night, but every movie you watched was plain trash.
He could've spent the night practicing, yeah, but who was he to turn you down? All that's in his head now is fuck, fuck, fuck, I need to wake up—
— but everything's too good. He needs to know what happens next.
You struggled to lift him up. What was he, double your weight? You were tiny compared to this man, what the hell were you thinking trying to get him up? With a groan, you stand up, your weak knees trembling as you lift one side of his body, the other side hanging. But you notice he was on his feet. Maybe it was a reflex.
"Alrighty, let's get ya to bed," You say more to yourself than to him, each step excrutiatingly slow. Slow and shaky, your breath more ragged than his. Why were you even putting in this much effort?Effort wasted. Because you throw him onto the bed, hands on your knees as you panted. You thought he was a light sleeper, initially.
Vulnerability wasn't something he usually showed, yet here he was now, spread eagle on his twin-sized bed, hair in his face and his arm red from your tight hold. You did have a harder time.
And that's why you hated, hated him for opening his left eye, and he had his lips in a smug little smirk, that shitty bastard. You grumbled, throwing a pillow at him.
"What's wrong? You're surprisingly strong, y'know," He remarks, sitting up to fix his hair. Sae ran his fingers through the magenta strands, his eyes looking tired but accomplished.
"Lose some weight so I can carry you next time." You muttered angrily, sulky as you sat on the edge of his bed. "There's a next time?" He slips himself down the bed to sit next to you, gauging your reaction. And that goddamn smirk is still on his face, to the point where it seems his eyes are smirking, his ears are smirking, his cheeks, too. So annoying.
"Hopefully..."
"Not,"
"Yes,"
"No,"
"..."
"Fine." He eventually sighs. "I'll come over again, pendejo."
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Michael Kaiser's
It was the first time you ever saw him asleep. Of course you wouldn't know this grown ass man still takes naps in the afternoon. The sun was up and blazing, glazing its color on Kaiser's undershirt, his muscles bare and exposed. You've never seen him like this, vulnerable, not teasing you, not absolutely annoying you. It was comforting in a way.
But Kaiser thinks he's such a clever man. He stifles a laugh, sensing how you're admiring his sleeping form, his fake sleeping form. He's supposed to be practicing with some people today, but he chooses to mess with you over anything else. It's just how he shows his love.
So it surprises him, really, when you start to stand up and grab his waist and back, supporting his body as much as you could. Were you really going to take him to his room? He lets out an audible groan, but keeps his eyes closed for convincing effect.
With every step you take, he drags his feet across the wooden floor, your grunts loud and strained. Why does he have to be so heavy?
You immediately let go of Kaiser once he was in his room, collapsing the supposedly sleeping body on the mattress.
Then this jerk starts laughing. Boisterously. Disturbingly. Honestly, you feel so shocked that you could only blink slowly and process everything that's happening, the man you thought was sleeping was laughing so hard it pisses you off.
"Jerk!" You exclaim. "Oh, you're such a comedian! You really do love me!" He says, sitting up to see that reaction he found so cute. "I was helping you, fucking bastard,"
"That's me," He says confidently, flexing his bicep. And it annoys you.
"Now, if you excuse me, I got to practice," He stands up, getting dizzy at the sudden adjustment. But before he even leaves, he wobbles to the drawer unexpectedly, pulling out a face towel with cute rubber ducks on it. "Here, saviour. For your sweat."
"I really can't tell if you're trying to be nice or pissing me off," You groan, wiping your forehead and your sweaty neck.
He looks at you with some sort of... admiration, in his eyes. And he laughs again, softer and more genuine this time. "I think you should come watch me practice." You roll your eyes. "After I tore all my muscles carrying you? You wish, asshole,"
Kaiser's never felt this way. Why was he finding your anger so cute? He puts on his jersey for practice, his long hair getting snugly stuck underneath the neckline. So you go and untuck it, getting dangerously close to this man.
Yeah. He thinks he's in love.
"You're so damn small, it must have been a miracle when you carried me here," He whispers. Kaiser doesn't whisper. He yells. A lot.
"Miracle, me?"
"... Yeah, you."
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Rin Itoshi's
One turn of a head, and he's fast asleep? That was so unlikely of him, you think. Because, you're talking about Rin Itoshi here, asleep, beside you, so close you could feel the faint pitter patter of his heart and the even fainter breath. So deep into that slumber you felt bad even thinking of waking the striker up.And he doesn't usually mess with people.
But he wants to see that reaction that he finds ever-so-slightly, cute. When you scrunch up your nose in frustion, your eyebrows furrowed and your eyelids low. He loves it. It's one of the only things he finds himself looking for in every living moment he spends. But he doesn't quite know why, why he adores your long hair and every curve of your body he longs to touch.
He's cute, too. But Rin doesn't know that. Only you do. Or, at least, you're convinced you're his biggest fan, his best-est friend, or even something along the lines of.
That's why— he's currently trying to peek at you, while also trying to keep pretending he's asleep. Oh! He shuts his eyes tightly, once you turn to look at him. No, no, if he gets caught without saying it himself, it'll be embarrassing. So maybe... maybe he should just come clean already, and—
Panic, panic, panic.
You can hear his breath hitch softly and his eyelashes flutter faintly. Maybe he just does that. You take him by the arm, throwing it around your neck and over your shoulder to take him to his room, to let the pretty boy fall asleep. And oh, how you struggled.
But Rin thinks he's struggling more, trying desperately to stop himself from getting too flustered at the proximity he didn't expect. He makes himself lighter so you didn't have a harder time. He'd usually weigh himself down purposefully, or not fake sleep at all, but he found himself acting different around you.
Not too different. Only... less indifferent. You were more tolerable than the rest.
So once he plops down onto the bed, free from your helping grip, he feels this longing. This yearning. Your touch was too much for him, and now he wants more and more and more. You begin walking away, deciding to let him sleep, but—
"Sorry." Your head snaps in his direction. You'd almost gotten whiplash.
"Huh?! What happened to your sleeping ass?" Still half-lidded, Rin fiddles with the hem of his sweater, avoiding all form of eye contact with you. He just tricked you. And he was guilty. So unlike him. "I wasn't asleep."
You cross your arms with a smirk on your face, oh you knew well. That look on his cute face says it all, that he enjoyed how you were nice enough to accompany his heavy weight up the stairs and into his bedroom.
"You act better than I thought," You tell him. He just hums in agreement, coming back to his original attitude.
"Little trickster."
And when he looks up at you— oh, you think you're about to fold.
"I know."
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Ryusei Shidou's
He's snoring loudly, smiliarly to an old man. Damn this boy. Was he serious or was he serious? You think it's very Ryusei Shidou of Ryusei to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation, because not even ten minutes into the topic of leopards, he's passed out, his head facing the side. No wonder the idiot's snoring.
But it's all an act.
Ryusei is wide awake. He may have underestimated how hard closing his eyes for more than a milisecond was, but he is more than determined to see if you'd kiss him with a true love's kiss. Like a fucking Disney princess.
You groaned, standing up with your hands on your hips. You theorize that he's fake sleeping, since there's a goddamned smirk on his face, but you believe it anyway. "Holy shit, you fell asleep, you asshole." With a sigh, you decide to snap a photo of him before deciding to be a nicer bitch for once.
He accidentally opens his eyes and groans when you start lifting him up, but closes them tightly as to keep the act up. Where were you taking him? Upstairs? Ryusei hears your grunts as you desperately try to grab him. He falls back on you anyway, his back pressing against your chest and tensing up. Not like you felt it.
"Alrighty, here we go," This man is eighty percent muscle mass, and you were attempting to carry him?
Get this, he was so comfortable despite your struggle, that he actually falls asleep. For what seems like a mere split second, his breath shallows and his snores get quieter, and his muscles relax on you. You're confused.
The floorboards creak with every step you took, dragging the blonde by his waist weakly. Maybe if he didn't go to the gym so much. With a grunt, you throw him on the bed feeling strained as hell. "Fuck you, honestly."
Walking to the edge of the bed, you pull out your phone to see the picture, and there's this laughter. His laughter. You sigh as you shake your head, knowing your first thought was right after all. He wasn't really sleeping.
"What? Had a hard time?" Ryusei teases, the volume of his laughter baffling you. "Shut up."
"No, no, I'll sleep, I'll sleep," He makes a snoring sound again, but not before laughing his ass off. You're extremely annoyed. You regret being nice. But, you have to admit it, his laugh did bring a smile to your face, in some weird way.
He sits up to peek at your phone not-so-sneakily, chorting. "Ya even took my pic!"
You squeak, and find Ryusei immediately at your side, looking at his fakely asleep self on your phone. His hand is on your waist instinctively, as he stares with that smile, that grin you used to hate. But you love it now.
"You're so obsessed with me," He says. "You gonna make it a wallpaper like a lovesick simp?"
Turning your head and smirking, he blushes. Yeah, he might just be into every other girl, but you're the only one who made him blush that much.
"Maybe so,"
"... Fuck you."
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ⒺⓃⓂⒾⒺᛌⓈ bllk fanfic
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agere-fics · 2 months ago
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Pretty Kitty
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pairing: cg!logan howlett x little!reader
word count: 683
content warnings: cursing, usage of "daddy" and "dada", mean guy judging both you and wolvie
summary: you paint logan's nails!
@sleepyboy-stuff you seemed interested in this so i tagged you!
For years in the making, an after battle nap became routine. He couldn't just nap anywhere, though. It had to be on brown, leather couch in the x-mansion living space. The couch was old, worn, tattered, even blown up a few times. But damn if it didn't lead to the best sleep Logan's had in ages.
He wouldn't consider himself a light sleeper but something definitely triggered his consciousness. Shuffling, movement, soft mumbles. Someone was here.
He groaned and squinted his eyes open, tensing at the blurry figure next to him. He shifted away from it quickly. Who would even dare to- oh.
"Don't move, daddy, you'll mess up my artwork!" you whined.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Logan wasn't under attack. It was simply his sweet little bub kneeling beside the couch, holding his hand and painting red onto the nail of his pinky finger.
"Hey, bub." he muttered.
You turned to look at him with bright, sparkling eyes. You were so happy to see him. "Have a good nap, daddy?"
"You know it." he rumbled.
Your eyes shifted back to your task at hand. You brushed a bit more red onto his pinky finger, trying very hard not to get polish on his skin. Daddy wouldn't care but you knew you would care. It's got to be perfect for daddy!
"Whatcha doing?" he asked.
"Making daddy a pretty kitty." You picked up his limp hand and showed him your work so far. Logan didn't mind the nickname. He liked anything you gifted him.
However, he did quirk his brow at a certain implication. "Wait a minute, I thought you said I was already pretty?" A sliver of a smile poked through his serious facade. He can't actually be serious with you, you're way too cute for him to be all grumpy, wumpy. You've got him tied around your finger and he's a-okay with that.
"Wait but you are, daddy! You are! I'm just uhhhhh...." You looked around the room, aimlessly searching for an answer. "OH, I'm making you even prettier! The mostest prettier ever!"
The sliver of a smile turned into a full grin. He sat up and observed his now painted hand. "What colors did you use?" He wouldn't be your daddy if he didn't test your knowledge just a little bit.
"I used some red and pink and blue, oh and orange, and only a little yellow cause it's basically empty, see?" You turned the bottle upside down and shook it before tossing it to the side. "Do you like your nails, daddy?"
Logan lifted his hand, moving it this way and that. Up, down, left, right, sideways, up ways, down ways, more ways. You patiently waited for his approval with wide eyes. "Of course, I do, pumpkin. It's perfect."
You pulled him closer by his shirt, jutted your lip, lowered your brows, and squinted your eyes. With your other hand you pointed at him very sternly. It took everything in Logan to not coo at your cutely angry expression. Your face was scrunched, just like your daddy does sometimes. "Never take it off, daddy."
"Don't worry," he giggled. "I won't."
"What's happening here?" came a voice.
Mr. Butern... the professor of mutation genetics. When did he get here? "Turning into a pretty little princess, huh, Logan?" he scoffed and began to walk away.
Logan moved quickly and shoved the professor against the wall. His claws came out to play, pricking at the meanie's neck.
"Say another word and I will slice your fucking head off-"
"Daddy, that's a bad word!" you scolded.
Your daddy turned to face you. "Apologies, pumpkin." He turned back round. "Now, you tell my little one how good of a job they did."
The other guy stuttered, shaking so bad he must be a milkshake inside. "You d-did a good j-job."
Daddy dragged him to the tattered couch and shoved him down. "Sit your ass down."
Daddy's face immediately went from angry to mushy mush as he looked at you. "Bub, I think you should give him a makeover, too."
"Right on it, Dada!"
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shutit-haha · 1 year ago
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"Katsuki," you swayed, "I think I might have been roofied."
"What!?" He gives himself whiplash from how fast he turns, neck cracking and muscles giving a slight pull. The two of you are in some damn frat house because someone invited you and you REALLY wanted to go. Knowing full well that you would stay here for an hour tops, half-hour if everything was already in full swing. This was certainly knew though, I mean 45 minutes in and you've been ROOFIED!
"I said," you leaned against him. Closing your eyes and attempting to take deep breaths even though those very same breaths seemed to make it feel worse. "Sorry Kat," you grabbed at him tightly with your hand. "My stomach's getting all swirly."
He goes into full fucking panic mode. His large hands wraps around your arm a little too tightly dragging you into the crowd with him. He's moving like a fucking linebacker just shoving whoever's in his way. The blonde takes a sharp left turn around a corner yanking you into a hallway with him. The lights here are shut off making it damn near pitch black. His shoulder slams into strangers making out and dry humping and the two of you cringe at the moans that come from the many bedrooms. The floor underneath your feet is sticky, and with the way you feel right now it's a fight just to rip yourself off the wood. Your muscles feel heavy, eyes barely open. The world keeps swirling and spinning, bright colors popping out at you even in the darkness. There's this terrible throbbing between your legs, making your thighs tremble slightly.
"Kat," you whine. He kicks open the bathroom door throwing out the couple currently occupying the space.
"Yea," he gently guides you over to the toilet bowl. "Wait actually don't fucking touch anything in here, it's all disgusting. Bastards don't know how to fuckin act." He's tugging you out into the hallway again, the couple from just a few seconds ago scurrying back in.
"Katsuki," your legs are struggling to keep up. You feel weak in the knees, stumbling over yourself as a result. Your hearing comes and goes, a war between absolute silence and migraine inducing noise. "Bakugo I can't," air escapes you in huffed breaths. "I can't keep up, please," you beg him.
The blonde -still rushing for a reason you don't understand anymore- scoops you up in his arms. "I'm gonna get that shit out of your system, and kill that asshole. Fuckin scum, piece of shit doesn't deserve to walk the earth." He grumbles clutching on to you even tighter. Your brain is so fuzzy you giggle at his silly words. "What," he looks down at you for a quick second.
"Hot, Kat. Tired," you yawn. Moving with large strides Bakugo carries the two of you out of the fraternity. You shiver the moment the cool air hits your sweating skin. "Cold," you whine curling into him and wrapping tightly around his neck. The poor man chokes with the grip you've got him in. How the hell is he expected to breath in a condition like this?! Not only that but you're pressed flush against him with the way you've twisted yourself around.
"HAH, didn't you jus' fuckin say you where hot?!"
"I'm hot on the inside Katsuki," you screech and wail. You say it like it's common knowledge and it kills him a little. "Wait," your hands fly outward. "I got throw up." The man damn near drops you, only half careful of how he's handling you. Your feet hit the ground and you bend at the ankles and then knees. Just as you're situated it all hurls itself back up. It's ok though, because he's here to hold back your hair for you.
"Gotta get your dumbass home," he mumbles under his breath. You whine bringing your hand up to your mouth to wipe away the mess, only for Bakugo to grab at your wrist. "Don't you fuckin' dare, that shit's gross."
"How am I supposed to clean myself," you look up at him with big blown pupils. Your lashes leave long shadows on your face from the streetlight, lips puffy from whatever drug was forced into your system. There's water lining the bottom of your eyes, a result from emptying your guts, and you're still so hot.
"Just hold on a minute, dammit." His head whips around in search of something, though to no one's surprise there's not much to clean with on the front lawn. His eyes fix onto the door, resignation settling in. "Don't you fucking move from here," he points down at you aggressively. "Do you understand?"
You nod absentmindedly, hand coming up to your mouth once again.
"Don't do that shit! Just sit still dammit, I'll be right back." He hates having to run back into that fucking mess of a party. It reeks worse than it did before, the odor much more noticeable after breathing in some fresh fucking air. He fears that if he makes the wrong step he'll roll his ankle from the sticky floor, and then theirs all the bodies. These jiggling, sweaty bodies, in sync and yet still so far off beat. He's quick, bulldozing through all those extras to get to where he's going. You've been fucking drugged by one of these damn creeps and part of Bakugo worries that they'll find you while you're all alone out there.
"Katsuki," big gooey smile, when he emerges back outside. A shiver racks through him, the cold catching him off guard. He immediately steels himself right afterward determined not to let it happen again. "Katsuki," you sing, "kat-suki, suki, kat. kat, suki," you giggle and then smile. You're clearly out of your damn mind, body rocking back and forth while your hands grip onto your ankles tightly. You look like a fucking kindergartener, at the thought of that he snorts.
"Here," he throws the whole paper towel roll at you.
"Thank yoou," more singing, and an even bigger grin.
He only spares you a couple seconds to clean yourself before he's yanking you up onto your feet. The rough skin of his hand wraps around your elbow, and you stumble right into his side. The roll is hugged close to your buddy like some sort of stuffed animal, thighs pressed together tightly. "Can you carry me again?" Your eyes fall shut sleepily, cheek resting against his hard shoulder.
"Hah!?"
"Please," your hip presses against his now. "Please, I'll kiss you if you'll do it for me."
"Don't say that shit," his cheeks dust pink like a school boy.
You giggle, "I'll kiss you even if you don't pick me up." Paper towel roll still pressed against your chest, you lean into him lips grazing under his jaw. "I wanna kiss you," you hum breathing in his scent.
"Don't say that shit!"
"But I wanna kiss someone," you whine.
"Someone?"
"Anyone," you kiss the flesh at his jaw and neck.
"That shit's getting to you."
You nod absentmindedly again, placing another kiss on his warm skin. "Mhm, I think so."
"I'm taking you home," he bends at the knees slightly begrudgingly picking you up.
"Mmmm," you hum, "I like the sound of that."
He squeezes your thighs harshly receiving a slight hiss from you. "Gotta fucking behave if I'm gonna be doing this shit for you. Not gonna fucking baby you for you to be a brat."
Your arms wrap around his neck bringing yourself as close to him as possible. That damn paper towel roll still smooshed between the two of you. "Does that mean you're gonna punish me?" It was said so innocently, still made his cock twitch.
"Don't say that shit," he growls at you, jostling your body as a way of adjusting himself.
"I'm sorry," you kiss his neck, "I'm sorry."
"Don't do that shit either."
"But," you grind against his abs, "I need to feel something."
"Not me! Take care of yourself later," the thought of you touching yourself quickly popped into his head. Once again he was jostling you to adjust his pants.
"You feel so good," another innocent comment as you grind yourself against him.
"What's I say about behaving," he snaps at you.
"But you said to take care of myself."
"Later!"
"Are you gonna punish me now?"
Thank god the car was coming into view. "Oi! I'll fucking drop you!" He hakes his head, "the hells your obsession with that shit."
You shrug, "like how your hands feel on my ass." Another kiss to his neck, and then your hips jolt on their own grinding against his hard abs. This time you just can't stop yourself, the pit of your stomach feels like it's on fire and the way your muscles are contracting- you just have to. You need too.
"Hey," some part of his subconscious had clearly been paying attention to you. The part about his hands, and the punishment, because his hand came up and then down in one sudden slap. You could hear it whoosh in the air, and then that crackle when it met your rear. You stilled, moaning and arching your back. He nearly fucking dropped you, the one hand holding you completely unprepared for that hell of an arch.
"Fuck," you panted. Your lips kissed a trail up his neck and then nipped the skin behind his ear. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry d-" You bit your lip, suppressing what so desperately wanted to be said.
He fucking dropped you.
Your legs where shaky, knees buckling soon as your feet hit the floor. You expected to fall onto your knees just like you did on the lawn, but he slammed you up against the car. Your back roughly hit the metal, one hand keeping your hip trapped against it, the other hand keeping hold of your wrist. "You're driving me fucking crazy you know that," he spat in your face. His breath fanned against your skin, eyes burning. "I have no clue what that fucker gave you but-"
You kissed him, hips wiggly in his hand in search of friction. He bit your bottom lip, teeth sinking into plush, your back arched. "Fuck me, please. Please just fuck me, swear I'll stop after that. It'll make it stop just fuck me please just-"
He leaned back in, mouths smashing together, teeth clinking just before he forces his tongue in catching a taste of your mouth. Aphrodisiac, "bastard gave you a fucking rape drug."
You shake your head, hips wiggling with more vigor. "No want it," you breath heavily, "want it."
He shoves you aside, opening the passenger door for you, "just the drug."
"No," you're crying now. Hand venturing down to your waist band to give yourself some kind of relief. "Want you," you bite your lip when your hand grazes your clit. "I-" pant, "want you." All your weight is held up by the car, eyes shut to better see the fantasies. "Fuck," you groan.
He doesn't know what to do, he's kind of just watching you. It feels gross, feels wrong but, fuck he likes it. Mouth agape while you fuck yourself to him. It's not real. He's gonna wale up. It's just a wet dream, a movie.
"Wanted you since-" gulp, "that compression shirt, at the- at the gym." You whimper at that, "sweat, nipples were hard." Your eyes open all half lidded and hazy, pupils having consumed whatever color was once there. Your sclera isn't even visible anymore. "You're such a whore," as if your fucking pussy wasn't literally squelching right now.
That was it for him, you weren't gonna fucking insult him like that. As if you were some fucking saint. Yeah, right. He slams the passenger door shut, the back door flying open followed by him quickly shoving you into the car. Your back bounces on the leather seats, one hand quickly rushing to yank down your pants and underwear. The burly man climbs in right after you moving with quick hast, he shuts the door behind him with another loud slam.
"Keep that fucking mouth shut," hand squeezing a the sides of your throat. He's fucked once or twice, never like this. In the back of his car, cock aching, in such a hurry. With the way you were acting it seems like it's only take a couple strokes before you tapped out, you had already been edging yourself in a way. (I mean with you grinding and whatever else and him stopping you every other five seconds.)
He unbuttons his jeans, briefly thinking about turning on the air-conditioning only to decide against it. Fuck it, let the windows fog up. (That'd be new too.) Katsuki doesn't even unzip his pants he just tugs at the sides and forces the zipper to go down itself. You brely catch a glimpse of his boxers before those too are tugged down his muscled thighs. Damn gym rat.
He rudely slaps away the hand you have between your legs, only to smack his dick against your clit. "Condom," you mutter.
"Didn't I say to shut up," it's a nasty snarl, yet still you have the balls to smile at him.
"Please," you spread your legs for him.
"Didn't bring one," fuck please don't tell him this is what's gonna cock block him. He'll fucking destroy this car with the amount of anger that wants to blow. Yet you ever so seductively reach into your bra and pull one out.
"Here." You take it between your teeth tearing at the packaging while he pumps himself. You pass it over to him, the wrapper gracefully falling somewhere underneath the seat, condom rolled on in a blink. No prep, just his dick getting shoved into you.
It's a stretch, a painful, hissing stretch. Your tugging at his shirt pulling it off of him while you adjust, his hands sliding up and under to unhook your bra. "Move," it's a command, an order. And despite his big fucking ego, he listens to you. One large hand placed next to your head, the either forcing your shirt up as it ghost over your body. Your scratching at his back, and rubbing his scalp. It's an odd combo of pain and pleasure for the both of you as a result. "More," you're shouting now, "more," you gasp.
"Take your shirt off," his voice is gravelly and out of breath. The hand once fondling with your breast is now gripping under your thigh. It's pushing your legs up and up and up, till they're resting right on top of his strong shoulders. Your pussy clenches around him upon feeling the muscle moving under your legs. His mouth comes down to suck your right nipple, eyes staring dead into yours.
Fuck you're cuming, quick with his name on your tongue. "Not fuckin' done," he groans, grinding into you with another thrust. "Don't even think about movin' didn't-" He hisses, "fuck, didn't get to cum yet." Another grind and then he's bringing a calloused finger to your clit.
"Katsuki..."
"Yeah baby," it's low and husky, drawing more slick from you.
"Was lying about the condom." He gives you a harsh thrust at that, clearly fucking pissed. "Don't give a shit about it," he nearly pulls all the way out to slam back in. "Just wanted to-"
"Get to the fuckin' point," other hand squeezing at your throat.
"Want you to come in me," you're fucking yelling. "Please," begging.
"Fuck baby, that's enough to make me come on the spot."
You whine at that, "no."
"No?"
"No, please. Inside please."
He pulls out, smirking when he sees how your walls clench around the empty space. "Missing me," he teases rolling off the condom carelessly dropping it onto the floor. In a snap he's back in, three strokes and then he's gone.
The liquid is fucking hot, it's scorching. You wanna taste, wish you would have gotten the chance to. The thought of that has your walls fluttering and coming a second time. Your eyes are all dazed and glossy, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. Carefully Katsuki pulls your shaking legs off his shoulders, while your hand reaches up to push his hair out of your face. "Fuck you're a brat," your lip tint smeared all over his lips.
It makes you smile all soft and gooey. "I'm tired now."
He snorts, pulling your underwear back onto you. "'Course you are," he tugs on his boxers and jeans. "Don't let any of that shit spill out you understand me?" He's pointing at you, face back to that scowl. You nod, pulling your pants back on. The both of you tug on your shirts, he moves to the front while you remain laying in the back. You find a sweater of his and tug it on while he starts the car, rolling down the windows to air the thing out.
"We're doing that shit at least one more time," he says pulling the car out of park.
"You're place or mine," you smile at him through the rearview mirror.
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lostbookmark · 1 month ago
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MDNI 🔞
Main Masterlist here
WHISPERED VOWS MASTERLIST here
Summary: You thought planning your wedding was going to be a magical memory. You didn't realize that it might make you second guess everything.
Pairing: Fiancée Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader
Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Hurt-Comfort
Warnings: Explicit Sex, Toxic Family, Arguments, Sex Toys, Self Doubt, Over Thinking, Unprotected Sex, Yoongi Overworking, Reader Needs To Speak Up,
SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT
The smell that hit you as soon as you and Lisa walked into the flower shop earlier had hit you like a ton of bricks. It was a mix of sweet floral, citrus, a powdery smell that you couldn't identify, and damp earth that permeated through the main room that caused you to scrunch your nose in distaste. You think that flowers are pretty to look at, of course, but you prefer to do that from far away. You hate the smell of them, and all the different scents coming at you all at once are almost nauseating. You never understood why people always smell them or always give them as a gift. What better way to show someone you love them than buying them something that will eventually die. It just seems sad.
“How much do people usually spend on flowers?” You ask the florist who was walking around with you showing you the large varieties of blooms that she had in the store.
“Well, that's hard to say,” she says, looking at you with kind eyes. “It all depends on how many you want and what exactly you want to use them for. I would say a standard wedding will roughly cost about 3,000 dollars . If you want to add a grounded arch or have flowers that line your aisle. Are you going to have them as centerpieces at the reception? How many bouquets? Boutonnieres? All that will raise the price.”
You swallow thickly at her answer. For a 3,000 plus dollar estimate, they better last until your first anniversary and not be dead within the first week of buying them. The very few times that you have had flowers or plants for that matter, you have always forgotten to water them. They just ended up a brown wilted mess in a vase by a window that you would eventually throw away once you stopped being lazy.
Your stomach twists and turns anxiously as you look at the different bundles of flowers displayed in buckets and vases throughout the room as you contemplate the price that she told you. Walking around, you look at the roses in various colors, white orchids, pink peonies, rare flowers, and flowers flown in from different countries that you have never heard of. Why do they need flowers from different countries? They probably did it so they could charge more, and you also know people are more than willing to pay that price. It seems like such a waste, especially all for one day. All of this for just one day.
The pretty florist is staring at you with a patient smile, and you gently reach out to touch a hyacinth. It makes you tilt your head as you stare at them. Yeah, you don’t know how to pronounce that. You turn your attention back to her and give her an awkward smile. You can't tell her that you hate flowers and you definitely don't want to spend that much money on them. You don't want to offend anyone. She seems really nice.
“Yeah, so, thanks for your time. It was quite educational,” Lisa says cheerfully with a fake smile on her face. She plucks a card from the counter before waving goodbye. “We will be in touch. We have a lot to think about with all these beautiful options. Have a beautiful day!”
Linking your arm into hers, Lisa walks you out of the floral shop. You take a deep breath of the cold, crisp, fresh air that hits your face in hopes of calming the nerves inside of you. You can’t justify spending this much money on flowers. Do they know how many bills you can pay with 3000 dollars? How can people just throw away money like this? You dared not to even tell your mom about this trip. She probably would have wanted the flowers from a different country. She would have wanted them to be in crystal vases sitting at every table at the reception. She would have wanted whatever the ground arch was.
“You know,” Lisa says as she stops walking and stares at you over the hood of her car. “When I get married, I want roses. Hundreds of beautiful, deep red roses on every surface available, including my honeymoon suite, but that's just me…not you. You don't have to have flowers at all if you don't want them. Yoongi doesn't seem like a flower guy anyway.”
“What about the bouquets that we have to hold?” you ask. “Wouldn't it look weird if we weren't holding onto anything?”
“Sweets, we can make them with fake flowers. People probably wouldn't even be able to tell the difference,” Lisa answers. “With Pinterest and a hot glue gun, I can be unstoppable. I won't let you down.”
You start to laugh at her, finally feeling at ease, and she joins in. Thanks to Lisa, you think you can officially cross flowers off your list.
The noodles in the togo container from Yoongi's favorite restaurant are starting to burn your hands as you hurry down the hall to his studio. One of the things that has been worrying you is that Yoongi is not eating when he works like he does. He thinks it's okay to run on two hours of sleep a night, and a cup of coffee is enough fuel to get him through the day. As passive as you are trying to be at the moment, you can not let him do this to himself. You will not let him starve himself for the sake of his work.
Upon entering the familiar studio and kicking off your shoes, you see that he is asleep on his back with his arm thrown over his eyes on the couch as music faintly drifts from the abandoned headphones on his desk. You shut the door as slowly and quietly as you can without waking him up. The room is a bit darker than normal, so you move extra carefully so you don't knock into any equipment that was strewn around the floor. You place the noodles quietly on his small table in front of the couch and wave your burning fingers in the air, trying to soothe the slight burn. Looking around, you quickly find a piece of unused paper on his desk to leave a quick note for him. Your butt barely hits his chair when his voice makes you jump slightly.
“Baby?” his tired voice was deep and raspy.
“Sorry, I tried to be quiet. I brought you some food. It's noodles from your favorite restaurant,” you tell him with a sigh, putting the paper back where you found it. You no longer needed to leave him a note after failing your mission.
Yoongi doesn't answer. Instead, he holds his arms open, an invitation to join him. You climb over his body and onto the couch beside him. He situates himself onto his side, trapping you between his body and the back of the leather couch. Your face is buried in his chest with his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. You can feel the steady rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your face. You wonder if he fell back to sleep, but you don't want to move to find out. Closing your eyes, you contemplate drifting off with him as you let your body relax.
“Thank you,” he says suddenly, kissing the top of your head. “Any wedding updates? More million dollar venues?” he jokes.
“No. Lisa and I went to a florist on my lunch break. I discovered that I really don't like the way flowers smell, and they are just as expensive as the venues,” you tell him, and you can feel his chest shake with laughter. “It's all just a lot of money to spend on one day.”
“Most people like the way they smell,” he informs you. “I told you not to stress out over the cost.”
“They stink, and I can’t help it,” you complain. “Are you okay if we skip the flowers?”
“That's perfectly fine,” he says as his hand runs through your hair. He opens one eye and looks down at you. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I…I don't want a lot of guests there either.”
“Me neither,” he admits. “I don't have to invite industry people. Your mom doesn't know what she is talking about.”
“So, maybe a venue that holds like…50?” You ask him hopefully. “I came across a small winery online. It looked really pretty and they have availability for our date.”
“Perfect,” he whispers, looking at you.
“How do you know it's perfect? You haven't even seen it,” you ask with a small smile.
“If you like it, then it's perfect,” he tells you.
Yoongi reaches under your chin, tilting your face up to him. Leaning down, he presses his mouth firmly to yours. You internally sigh at the feeling of his lips against your own. You miss the kisses like these. Those lingering kisses that you never want to end. The ones that are filled with so much emotion that they make you weak in the knees. The ones that make you feel safe. The ones that make you remember how much you love him. How much you miss….him.
Yoongi changes position on his couch. Laying you back, he lays himself on top of you. His body presses you further into the cushions as he balances himself on his forearm. His free hand wanders down your leg that is clad in black tights that you wore under your skirt.
“Of all days that you had to wear these,” he says, pinching the black material and pulling them away from your leg only for them to snap back in place. “Can I take them off?”
“Yes,” you whisper, but your eyes glance to the door nervously. The embarrassment of last time still lingers in your mind. It would be just your luck. Jimin would walk in on you again or worse….Jungkook.
“No one else knows the code,” he chuckles, placing his face into your neck and licking a wet stripe up to your ear, making your breath hitch before lightly biting at your lobe. “We won't be interrupted.”
Sitting up on his knees between your legs, Yoongi's hands travel up under your skirt, grabbing the top of your tights. Lifting your hips, you help him out as he carefully pulls them over your ass and down your legs. He finishes by slipping them over your feet and tossing them on his table by the forgotten food container that you brought in for him. He turns his head back to look at you laid out before him and just drinks you in.
“Yoongi?” you question quietly.
“I'm just looking at my beautiful fiancée,” he whispers. “My future wife.”
He smiles at you and leans down, pressing his mouth against yours again. Your arms go around his shoulders, holding him close to you as his tongue slips into your mouth as it twists and twirls with your own. Pulling away from your mouth, Yoongi rests his head against your forehead. His eyes stare directly into yours.
“Let me just please you and….we will see what happens,” he says softly and looks away from you quickly. You think that he is embarrassed.
“We don't have to do anything,” you say, trying to comfort him. “I know you're tired. Your sleep is more important than this.”
“No, I miss this so much,” he says quietly and kisses you again desperately as his tongue delves in for another taste of your mouth. “I miss the way you feel,” he pulls away to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. “I miss the way you taste,” a kiss to your jaw. “God, I miss the way you sound,” a kiss to your neck. “Please, baby.”
You nod your head yes, and he finally slithers his way down, your body dropping to his knees on the floor with a light thump. Yoongi flips your skirt up and hooks his fingers into your underwear, pulling them down over your now bare legs, exposing you to his gaze. He stuffs the thin material into his back pocket and smirks at you. You don't even want to know what he will do with them if he doesn't give them back. The thought makes you blush a little bit.
“It will have to be quick,” you inform him with a teasing voice as he kisses the inner side of your knee. “My boss won't like me wasting company time.”
“I think he won’t care….at all,” he smirks at you and moves up to nip at your inner thigh. “In fact, I think that he just might even encourage this. Mandatory once a week now.”
Diving between your legs, Yoongi doesn't waste any time. Using his hand to spread you open, his tongue starts licking at your opening hungrily. His hot breath fans over your exposed core, making you squirm around on his couch. Yoongi places your legs over his shoulders and then slowly moves his hands up your body. He reaches up and gently grabs at your covered chest. Palming at your breasts the best he could over your clothes. You arch your chest up into his touch as you grab the back of your knees, bringing them up and closer to your body. Opening yourself up more for him.
“Oh, shit,” you whimper as his tongue finally pays attention to your bundle of nerves flicking it back and forth. “It feels g..go…good.” You stammer.
He moans around you as he sucks it into his mouth. You let go of your right knee to push his dark hair out of his eyes before pulling his head closer to your core despite the fact that he was already as close as he could get. You bite your bottom lip as he stares up at you. The look of undying love and adoration is still there in those lust blown brown orbs. Even though you want to question it at times, it's still there. Yoongi suddenly pulls away with a surprised and slightly dazed look on his face. You follow his line of sight as he looks down at himself. His sweatpants do nothing to hide the hardness that is there.
“Fuck, yeah,” he says with a pump of his fist.
You would have laughed at him, but you are just as excited as he is. Yoongi doesn't even bother to undress, so you stay exactly how you are as well. Instead, he opts to just pull his pants down to his knees and hike up his white t-shirt before positioning himself back on the couch between your spread legs. Taking himself in his hand he slaps his cock against your pussy that's still coated in his saliva a couple of times before he dips the head of his cock into you shallowly before pulling back out.
“Fuck, I have I neglected you that much?” he hisses at the tightness that he pulled away from. You don't bother answering because you both know the answer.
He licks his fingers before letting them gently enter you. Twisting and opening you up as he prepares you for his intrusion that you haven't had in so long. However, you needed him, and you didn't want to wait any longer. You reach for his hardness and gently pull him back to you. You push at his wrist and line him up as he removes his fingers. You stare up at him in anticipation, desperation in your eyes, chest moving up and down rapidly. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you nod your head at his silent question.
“It's okay,” you whisper and run your hand up and down the front of his body.
“Are you sure?” He asks breathlessly.
You bite your lower lip and nod your head. Yoongi groans, taking himself back in his hand, and pushes back into you slowly. Even in his neediest moments, he is gentle with you. You hear him take a deep breath and exhale slowly when he bottoms out in you. His eyes are closed tight, and his body feels quite tense. You experimentally roll your hips against his, and he gasps out. You think you might enjoy seeing him like this. Like he will come undone any single moment.
“Don't move yet,” he whispers brokenly. “I need a moment. I can't ever wait this long again.”
“Yoongi, it's okay,” you say again. Pulling him down, your lips meet his. Your tongue sneaks its way between his lips, making the kiss deeper, needier. You smile at him as you pull away. “Fuck me.” you whisper.
With a sharp inhale, Yoongi finally starts moving his hips against your own. His thrusts were hard and fast, unforgiving, acting on the wants and needs of his body. You grab a hold of his biceps and hold on firmly, trying to anchor yourself to him. The thrusting of his hips makes you slide a little further up the leather couch with each contact his body makes with you, making him have to pull you back down to meet him repeatedly. It was almost too distracting for you. You tap his arms, and he is immediately off you with a look of worry etched in his features.
“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly, thinking he hurt you. Without a word, you turn over to your knees and look back at him over your shoulder. “Fuck.” he whispers and gently pumps himself in his hand as he stares at you waiting for him. You teasingly sway your backside at him and he bites his lip, still watching you. “Fuck,” he whispers again.
“Yoongi,” you whimper.
“Yeah, shit,” he said, finally snapping out of his trance.
Moving your fallen skirt back up, Yoongi whips his shirt off and over his head to get it out of the way. His hands return to you as he places one hand on your hip to hold you steady and inserts himself back into you with the other. Moaning at the angle, you push your hips back against him until your bottom meets his pelvis. You press your own face and chest further into the cushions, making your back arch more, bringing him deeper into your burning core. Yoongi gasps. He grabs the front of your hips and pulls your ass up to meet his every thrust as he begins to move within you again. The tip of his cock kissing your sweet spot with every push of his hips.
“Yoongi,” you cry out in a broken sob as your body jostles around from his handling of you.
“That's it,” he rasps as the sound his hips smack against your ass fills his studio. Tingles start to spread over your body as your muscles start to tense. You feel your body suddenly drop, and Yoongi moves to hover over you further. His breath hits your cheek as his face drops down to yours. “I love you. So, fucking much.”
Reaching behind you with both hands, you grab a hold of the back of his bare thighs. Your nails dig into his pale flesh as you desperately try to hold onto him. Yoongi's lips press against your cheek as his hand dips under your skirt. HIs fingers press on your clit, drawing quick circles along it.
“YOONGI!” You cry out and cover your mouth with your hand. You are scared to be too loud even though you know his studio is soundproof.
“Let me hear you,” he grunts against the side of your face.
Your walls start to contract around as you begin to brokenly sob out his name, causing his own hips to stutter in response. You hear him groan out a couple of “oh fucks” in your ear as he stills as he emptied himself into you. His breathing is hard, warm breath puffing against your cheek as he tries to catch his breath. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. Slowly, he pulls out of you after a moment and sits back laying his head against the back of the couch trying to calm down his fast beating heart. You close your legs tightly as you turn onto your back and try to catch his attention.
“Umm,” you say, your face starting to turn red. “It's leaking.”
Yoongi looks at you, then between your legs, and starts to laugh at you. Standing up, he pulls up his pants and grabs some tissues by his desk. Cleaning you up, he hands you your underwear and tights before he puts his own shirt back on. You shyly get dressed in front of him as he sits back and watches you with a half lidded expression of pure satisfaction. Straightening your skirt and smoothing it down, he holds his hand out to you once again. You grab a hold of it, and he gently pulls you onto his lap.
“I miss you so much, baby. I'm trying my hardest to finish this damn album so I can help you,” he says, and you nod and rest your head against his shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper and hold onto him just a little tighter. You don't ever want to let go.
“Well if that wasn't the longest lunch break in history,” Seungkwan says, giving you a side-eye as soon as you open the door. He knew damn well what you were up to.“
"Very funny,” you say, walking into your office and sitting at your desk across the room.
“Your phone has been going off nonstop,” he tells you.
You groan and throw your head back in exasperation. Picking your phone up, you see that your mom has, in fact, been nonstop calling you and has sent one text. Calling her back, you hold your breath. You have to be prepared for what could end up being a fight.
“Y/N, where have you been? I've been calling you all afternoon,” your mother's voice came from the other end of the phone. “I called the venue with the mountains and gardens. I told them we were interested and I needed a date to tell her.”
“I….I’m going to be booking my own venue. It's at a small winery just out of town on August 1st, a black and white color theme, with no flowers,” you tell her in one breath. You did it. You told her, and there was no going back after this.
“WHAT?” She exclaimed so loudly that you had to pull the phone away from your ear.
“I have to work goodbye,” you say quickly before she can continue and turn your phone immediately off.
“No, flowers?” Seungkwan questioned you with a bewildered look. “You don't want flowers?”
“No, they are way too expensive, and I feel bad for spending that much,” you explain.
“My sister is a florist. Let me talk to her, and I will give her your number,” he said. “I'm sure that she will give you a discount.”
“You don't have to,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “I really don't care if I have flowers or not.”
“I want to, even if it's just your bouquet. That's what friends are for,” he says, giving you a soft smile before turning back to his computer and continuing his work.
You rest your head back against your seat, and your eyes look at the picture of you and Yoongi sitting on your desk by your computer monitor. It was a selfie that you took from the balcony of that beautiful Paris hotel room. You could see the Eiffel Tower lit up in the background as he held you in his arms while you stretched your arm out to take the picture. There’s a small pit in your stomach as you look at it, and you can't figure out what it is as you look at your smiling faces. You just hope that it goes away soon.
A/N: Well, I've finally started chapter 7 of Vows. Updates will still come about every two weeks or so. Also, I wasn't sure about my tagged readers from SECRETS and if I was supposed to tag you in this new story. I guess I don't know the protocol.
Tagged Readers:
@svnbangtansworld, @futuristicenemychaos
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mosaickiwi · 7 months ago
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Fall Unto Me (part three)
Part one, part two
I said I was on break but then a lot of things immediately fell out of my brain cause of stress so now I feel silly... sowweeeeee 🤡 Part four WILL be the last part I swear. If you see more Angel!Angel and Demon!Ren from me after that (and da infodump if i get to it) genuinely tell me to shut the FUCK up!!!
yes i am probably writing the NSFW version it'll be in my compendium post if it happens
cw// religious themes
14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI
Your resolve was getting harder to hold on to, but you kept it. This would be the last time. You couldn't part from heaven again after returning. Atonement was waiting for you, eternal devotion to your duty right after.
Another few weeks went by as you stayed with Ren a little longer, the sea of flowers outside your bedroom window changing little by little each day. So many of them were already fully blooming, most of their petals stretched open to show off a myriad of colors while others curled inwards to hide from you. Practically a taunting mockery with how they took their time. As if insulted you would dare leave once they painted the horizon with their beauty.
It made it all the more painful that you'd never see them again. Or the companion that now felt like a piece you'd been missing.
Something about that encroaching deadline had affected the devil, too. Ren was calmer in some ways. They still brought you gifts and knowledge like usual, but he seemed to be taking his time just like the flowers. Simple answers to your curiosities became thorough while he held you close and urged you to ask more questions about whichever object took interest. 
He'd offered to revisit trinkets you loved as well. Until you were as familiar with using them as he was. You couldn't understand it. 
Your time together was draining away by the second. Didn't they want to make exciting memories? No matter how much you enjoyed it, mastery over human instruments or crafts served no purpose. Heaven wouldn't let you bring those things home, nor could you ask a higher power to recreate them for leisure.
Maybe your love was in denial of your departure. Or maybe spending little mundane, quiet days and nights together like this was their way of coming to terms with it.
Today, you chose to fiddle with one of the oldest gifts while chatting with him. The sun was just beginning to set, casting the room in the faded, flaming gold hue you'd only now gotten used to. 
“—Love?” He was calling you, the end of his tail swaying gently in front of your face to get your attention. You’d missed a few words.
“Hm?”
“You've gotten much better at this,” the pink haired devil hummed above you. His chin was resting atop your head as they cradled you in their lap on a frayed rug, his back against the bottom of the couch.
You looked over your work. The woven red string wrapped around and through your fingers took the shape of a pointed star. You knew real stars looked differently, but the human interpretation was interesting.
“Truly, it’s better than before,” you said with wholehearted agreement. The first time you'd tried—only on the third day of your visit to earth—had simply tangled the string to a knotted mess stuck upon your fingers for Ren to deal with while you apologized, embarrassed beyond belief. 
The patterns they taught you were almost easy thanks to your afternoon of trying. You unwound the string and painstakingly wound it again into one that often graced your practice: an angel. He'd been particularly smug about teaching you the motions of that one.
“An impressive self portrait,” Ren joked and squeezed you tighter in their embrace. “Although it'll take more than some thread to capture your divine beauty.”
Naturally, you rolled your eyes even though the soul it was meant for couldn't see it. A mortal gesture you'd gotten the hang of quicker than anything, as he so favored innocent teasing before expressing his deepest sincerities.
You untangled the string and tossed it to the side, then turned in their lap to make a face this time for their benefit. “I’ll do a painting, then. I’ve had enough of this toy.”
He relaxed his hold long enough for you to wander across the room in search of new distractions, but innocently called after you, “We’ll have to light quite a few candles for you to see well. Unless you plan to have me mix paints for you in the dark.” A second passed before he spoke again. “It’d be a pleasant surprise, I’m sure.” 
“Something else?” you replied, making a swift turn towards the bookshelves. You came back with a couple of novels and sat beside them with your treasure. “Is this really all you want to do? You’ve read every book here before.” 
Even the books he’d bought with strange, flimsy paper currency for you, Ren had said so casually, were already familiar territory. Tedium hardly described how boring you thought these weeks must be for him. But he never objected to anything you chose, as long as you both stayed close to home during the day. 
And you always kept your wings hidden in case a human roamed nearby. You'd never seen one come close to the cabin, or even the field of flowers, but he insisted your safety—and proximity to them—was of utmost priority. It was hard to remember the last time you let loose your wings at all after walking on the beach with him. They interrupted your thoughts once more.
“My sweet, delicate angel, I’ve had all the time in the world to do anything I want.” Their blue eyes narrowed with a smile as they spoke and you knew more teasing was coming. “We could even sit here in silence all night, if you asked me nicely.”
“How kind of you, my darling demon,” you teased them back. 
Another jesting response in his gaze faded to something different as you pulled him down for a kiss, gently at first. The books you’d brought over lay forgotten, soon shoved under the couch in favor of your new activity.
Kissing the demon you called yours felt like second nature now. There was no sting that ever came, no homesick aching in your back anymore. Only the flood of tender emotions he gave you, tainted by your own guilt and fears of parting from him.
You needed more. A stronger distraction. Your hand on his shirt tightened, determined to keep him. To stay in this moment as long as possible.
Ren exhaled, a muttering of blasphemous praise you dare not repeat whispered from his lips to yours, along with one word. A word that sounded odd to your ears. 
You'd heard it countless times over the months, but it didn't feel strange until after the first kiss you shared. He must have said it earlier, too, when you were occupied with that damned little red string. Demonic language was much different, it certainly wasn’t that at all. And the sounds of the word did feel similar to mortal languages, but nothing came to mind. So naturally, you could only assume it to be another of their pet names, but…
The thought fell to the side as you focused on him. He was all that needed to matter right now.
Their comforting warmth that called of your sacred home, your nails curling into the bottom of his shirt just to fall lower, an iron, almost nectar-like taste that flowered on your tongue—did you bite him this time? It felt good. 
Desperately, you brushed your hand over his thigh, getting dangerously close to where you knew things risked going further. You caught yourself and froze. You wanted him, you’d known since that day in the rain. In every way a being could yearn for another’s love. And of course he felt the same. But could you really go home if it happened? 
“Before I…” The words hung in the air and what remained weighed in your throat. Before I leave. Departure was looming on the horizon, sure as the sun would rise tomorrow. You dare not mention it to the one you loved again. You opened your eyes to meet theirs, cautiously as you wondered, “Is this alright?”
“Yes,” they answered, longing clear as the evening sky in his voice. “I couldn’t bear—or ever want—to deny you. Little angel, all you desire of me is yours to take.”
Without another word you did just that. You thought nothing of the faint, staggered line you felt under your fingertips that seemed to start somewhere along his shoulder blade as you lifted the shirt away and pushed him to lay on the rug. Your hands pressed their ink-stained arms flat next to the disheveled mess of pink hair and horns. Ren grinned at your audacity to pin him, but held still for your much needed exploration. 
Eyes half lidded with patient lust, mouth parted to show off pointed fangs, the devil looked to be the very picture of your sinful desires.
To be one with them, even just once, was a memory worth making. No matter what punishment waited for you at heaven’s boundary. You skimmed your fingers from the base of his collarbone, down over their stomach, and began to undo the buttons that concealed what you’d been waiting for.
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apomaro-mellow · 2 years ago
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Eddie's been on cloud nine as of late. Things were going great with Steve and they were going even better with Wayne and Steve. Eddie thought there might be some tension, and there was, but only briefly.
His uncle was a great judge of character. And Steve's character was perfect, if Eddie did say so himself.
So imagine his surprise when he comes back to the trailer, Steve's eyes red and wet from crying.
Eddie came in from a hard day's work and since he saw Steve's car waiting was prepared to be greet with a kiss. He heard a weird shuffling, then saw Steve sitting next to Wayne.
"Steve?"
"Eddie, it's not what you think", Steve said quickly.
"It's not? Because it looks like my uncle made you cry. And I think I can imagine why."
"Oh?", Wayne raised a brow. "Do tell."
Steve was looking back and forth between them, like he was afraid of a fight breaking out.
"It looks like you gave him the talk every father gives their daughter when she brings her first serious boyfriend home. Like you told him about your hatchet collection just in case he every breaks my heart."
Steve's eyes widened. "Your what?"
Wayne just rolled his. "I had a brief stint as a lumberjack. And two axes hardly count as a collection."
"You still didn't hafta threaten him. You know Steve now. You know he's good to me." What if whatever Wayne said scared him off? It probably took a lot to freak him out but Eddie had never seen him cry before. Ever.
"Well maybe he could use a little warning, just in case."
Eddie frowned and went over to Steve's side. "I can't believe you'd treat him like that. After everything I've told you and everything you've seen-"
"Wayne didn't do anything!", Steve blurted.
That made Eddie pause and Steve took a breath before he pulled something that had been hidden between his back and the couch cushions. "He was showing me this."
Eddie knew what was in the book already but opened it anyway. A photo album, filled with pictures from the day Eddie was born all the way to his first couple of years of primary school. The later years were in another album.
"You were crying....because Wayne showed you my baby photos?"
Steve nodded.
"Can you blame him? You were a handsome baby", Wayne said. "Needed him to know you weren't always funny lookin'."
Eddie looked over Steve's shoulder to shoot him a playful glare before looking back at his boyfriend.
"Sweetness, I truly got myself hitched to a sap. I mean, this made you cry?" He held up the photo of himself, halfway to bringing a spoonful of mashed potatoes to his mouth. The mess around his face and on his hands told the story of his very valiant efforts to feed himself.
"You were adorable", Steve whined, eyes getting a little misty again.
"Alright, alright. I can understand the secrecy now. I'm not a huge fan when Wayne pulls this out. But for you and only you, we can peruse my early childhood. Anything after I turn ten is off limits!"
Eddie pointed a finger at them both, daring him to challenge them.
"Why can't I see middle school Eddie?", Steve asked.
"Oh he was really funny lookin' then", Wayne answered. "Went through this whole phase where he claimed purple was his color."
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loveandleases · 3 months ago
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Oh no, now I'm getting ideas about fantasy MC-
MC going through the whole cheating and falling out with their family, who are nobles, and leaving. Having no money or anyone to rely on since Cam went rogue. Becoming one of the most sought after courtesans, being so pretty and smart and well spoken. Cam hides on the brothel cuz he was being chased or following a lead. Asking for a courtesan to blend in and end up face to face with MC.
The tea is boiling Myriam 🍵
I'm loving the ones I have in my inbox atm. (more below the cut because I got carried away)
Cam doesn't dare let his guard down. Knowing that someone had been tailing him this long and this far out was surprising, especially considering he was positive he hid his tracks.
The rogue scoffs when he thinks of how close he got to having his neck slit just minutes before. For once, he would like a damned break. He sits at one of the low tables, waiting for the courtesan to come out to meet him. His eyes carefully scanning the other patrons'. Bodies pressed together, lips whispering sweet nothings. The room was warm, too warm for him really. Or maybe it was because he wasn't as used to the company as he liked to think. He had been in a brothel years ago, back when he was still young and naive, back when he knew nothing of another persons body under him. The thought alone causes him to shake his head. Knowing the reason he had even bothered to sleep with someone then was to get another person out of his mind, not like it worked. "C'mon, c'mon." His leg shakes anxiously under the table, one elbow propped on top, his hand holding a pint of ale, while the other rest in his lap, close to his dagger if needed. His eyes scan the entrance, good for him it was the only one. So he wouldn't be completely caught unaware. The voices of those around him begins to fade away to hushed whispers. The tension in the air thick, though with what it was hard to tell. Eyes trace a figure walking over to his lone table. Shit, do they know who I am? He carefully averts his gaze, instead facing the wall. Hoping the courtesan won't linger much longer, or he very well might be screwed once the assassins catch up. Soft footsteps stop beside him, a gasp from the table in front of him makes his stomach drop, he really doesn't want to bloody up the place. The person sits, hands carefully lifting up the the dark red fabric of their clothing. The color of blood. Not a speck of dirt in sight. His eyes soak in their very presence, their knees tucked neatly under them. Their hands unmarred, fingers delicately laced together. "Well, I take it I'm pleasing to the eye then?" The voice asks, causing his eye to furrow as he is about to refute. Then, it's as if his very breath is stolen. Those eyes, he had seen them before, haunting him in his dreams. Eye's he imagined when he was in his first bordello. It's as if they only see him. Which couldn't be the case, not with the mess he looks like. Hair a knotted wreck, his pale freckled skin marred with scars from over the years. "Why are you here?" "You called for a courtesan did you not?" Cam looks them over again. His throat bobbing as he forces himself to swallow, his pierced tongue darting out to moisten his lips. "Sorry, I must have heard you wrong. I could have sworn you said courtesan." He lets out a laugh, awkward and miniscule. Once he realizes MC isn't laughing with him his eyes bulge. "You can't be serious!" The other patrons' shoot a glare, some's eyes lingering on MC, at the bare skin poking out from the slits in their clothing. Bare skin that Cam is trying his best to ignore and yet his eyes still find them. He stands abruptly, yanking MC up. "What do you think you're doing? You didn't pay for rough se-" Cam's hand clamps over MC's mouth. "Don't you dare. Don't say another word." As they make their way to the doors, Cam peeking his head out looking to see if any assassins dare lurk by. MC leans closer, their breath warm among the cold night. "Sex." They whisper, causing Cam to jump, jerking MC behind him as he tumbles onto the cobblestone path. Even though the streets are dark, the light from the lanterns overhead highlight the redness of his cheeks, as he coughs into his fist. "What-" another dry cough. "what did I say!" He squeaks. Causing Mc to chuckle, patting Cam on the back.
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mrssylvatica · 4 months ago
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alfons - petplay
978 || NSFW.  alfons pet play.  fem!reader.  first and probably last nsfw piece.
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◇ CW: NSFW, pet play?  that was my original intention, pwp, blowjob, some praise, alfons being alfons, etc.  forgive me i've never written smut before.  bit ooc but it doesn't really matter because it's smut
“How about a game, little one?”
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
“My, my…”
Your body is completely bare, curled up on Alfons’ lap.  His thighs are soft, almost like a pillow.  The smooth silken bedsheets are soothing against your skin, the leather collar resting against your neck.  A candle's flame dances atop the nightstand, a beacon in the darkness.
He has trained you well.  He scratches under your chin, grinning with satisfaction as you enthusiastically rub your cheek against his hand.  You can feel the coldness through the glove.  Alfons’ other hand drifts from the top of your crown to the nape of your neck, but you decline his offer with a shake of your head.
“Not today?”  You're met with a pout and a forced sigh.  If you didn't know any better, you would assume he was genuinely disappointed.  No, he’s just messing around, as always.  “Ah, very well.”
He returns to playing with your hair, humming to himself.  You start to unbutton the buttons of his dress shirt one by one.  Alfons’ chest is marred with numerous bites and hickeys from his “friends”, and unsurprisingly, his back also harbors scratches.  How you wish you made them instead.  Out of sheer curiosity, you press an ear to his chest.  His heart pumps strong, in contrast to the calm façade.
Usually he's the one teasing you until you're squirming and needy, but today it's your turn.
To start, you remove his gloves with your mouth, pressing kisses to each of his fingertips and even licking in between his fingers.  In return, Alfons scratches you behind the ears, a proud expression gracing his features.
Then you slowly, ever so gently stroke him through his pants, triumphantly locking your gaze with his.  How dare you tease him like this.  You're just so adorable, with your eyes twinkling up at him mischievously and…
He just wants to break you right now.
“How about a game, little one?”  Alfons whispers, tugging your hair up to look at him.  Him, and only him.  To sear this into your memory.  “Whoever finishes first, loses.  If I win, I punish you however I like, but if you win, I’ll do whatever you like tonight.  How about it?”  Alfons directs one of your hands to his belt, letting you undo the buckle on your own.  Ah, but you're certainly taking your time.
You drag the moment on longer, kissing a trail from his chest back down again.  Perhaps a little bite there, with a lick to soothe it…  squeezing his thighs, ghosting your fingertips over his legs…
Alfons has always been patient.  Today you were determined to steal away the last of his resolve with those feathery touches of yours.
But you free his aching cock at last, its leaking precum glistening under the candlelight.  You give his tip teasing kitty licks, making him shiver in anticipation.  One of your hands busies itself fondling his balls.  “You naughty, naughty kitten…”  You give him a coy smile in response and plant a kiss on his length, making it twitch with need.
You enjoy tormenting him, don't you?
You lick up and down his length, running your tongue over the thick veins.  Clearing your hair away from your face, Alfons grabs a handful to steady himself and watches as you slide your soft lips onto his twitching cock, groaning once his tip hits the back of your throat.  You drag your warm lips along him greedily, stopping every now and then to pay special attention to his tip.
He looks so beautiful like this.  It's always fascinating to watch Alfons’ calm demeanor melt away, his blissful expressions irresistible as he struggles to contain himself.  His glistening skin dampens with sweat, his raven hair askew.  With his face colored with a slight blush and his lips parted, struggling to draw in air…  one could even call it endearing.  It almost makes you forget how much of a menace he actually is.
“You're doing so well.”  The sudden praise makes your heart race in your chest, your face flushing pink.  The motivation combined with the lewd sounds make your core slick and wet.  You bob your head rougher, a tear dripping from the corner of your eye.  Your teeth brush against his length a few times, making the searing heat burn in his stomach.
One hand gripping the bedsheets and the other forcing your head down on his cock, Alfons begins driving himself deep into your throat, lost in his own pleasure.  It was unlike him to lose control so easily.  Your jaw begins to ache, some fluid dripping down your chin.  If you could only look at him, you would see his lips quiver so exquisitely.
No, no…
Just when Alfons is about to finish, he rotates your collar to the back of your neck and tugs on the cool metal ring.  He can't lose here.  It's tempting, but not now.  The harsh leather digs into your skin, making you whimper.  The vibrations go straight to his cock, making his breath catch in his throat.  He wipes your tears away with his thumbs.  “What a good girl.  Lick it all up.”  You collect all his fluids, licking your lips before pulling away.  What a mess you've made, leaving his cock cold, wet, and painfully hard.
“What a lovely expression…” Alfons feels his high seeping away as he guides your dripping nectar on top of him, your chest flush against his.  He takes his time admiring the view.  Your slow blinks, the pleading pout.  The candlelight dancing across your bare skin.  It's all on purpose, isn't it?  You're driving him positively mad.  Alfons absentmindedly traces your thighs, his cold fingers making you shiver before giving your bottom a loud slap, earning himself a delicious whimper.
He grabs your chin to make you meet his crazed, glimmering silver gaze.
“You'll do whatever your master tells you to do, won't you?”
“Yes, sir.”
◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇
Author's Note
beata maria you know I am a righteous man of my virtue I am justly proud
happy birthday alfons
my sincerest apologies to everyone who reads this 😔😔 don't expect me to write more nsfw
yk this is my first smut piece... it's very different from how I normally write. usually I pile up on descriptions (like the end of this one) but apparently not supposed to do that??? idk man
these poor souls (affectionate) wanted to be tagged for this specific post so here
@sh0jun @lycemagee @sapphire-323 @rubia8 @floydsteeth
@letter-from-afar @mxrmaid-poet @shadowylakes @tako-cafe
masterlist
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travelling-wanderer · 7 months ago
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・﹒・ i hate you
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Summary: It's been a while since you joined the digital circus landscape and had made friends with everyone despite the situation of never returning home. However, you could never get along with Jax, he was an asshole. He always annoyed you and pissed you off. Yet, why can't you get him out of your head?
Warnings: None
Pairing: Jax x GN!reader
Notes: Hi I'm back...ish
In the world stored on a computer that you now permanently resided in, it was hard to find a private place to just relax. Sure, it was pretty big, but get bored enough and needing a break from everyone, you're bound searching for a place to find some peace and quiet. That's what you did and you found a neat little alcove far away from the main stage in the tent and as the digital days went by, you found solace in it. It was your little hideaway from it all and for you to just be yourself. Sure, you had your bedroom, but anyone can just bother you, and not to mention- Jax has keys to everyone's rooms.
Jax. You hated that rabbit. He always went out of his way to piss everyone off and annoy them just for his entertainment. Especially you- he picked on you so much it got on your nerves, you needed space. So here you were, sitting and messing around with a bouncy ball, throwing it on the wall and catching it. He especially got on your nerves today as he thought it would be a good prank to scare you by coming up from behind and screaming "Boo!" while you were talking with Pomni.
Sighing, you caught the ball and stared at it, thinking about your new life here again. You often did here, but also made sure to not think about it too much, as you still valued your life. You don't even know how time was passing outside of here, was it a week? Two? Three months? Years? Caine does have a day and night cycle to at least keep some sense of time for you guys, but it wasn't enough to not make some go crazy.
Your mind kept drifting back to Jax though, no matter how hard you try to not think of him, he kept popping up in your mind unwillingly. You hate him, that's that, so why did he continually keep showing up in your mind? The things you kept thinking about him had slowly started to drift from hatred to having this strange...warm feeling in your chest. Your thoughts started to spiral as you realized you actually missed when he wasn't around. Why was that? He had nothing positive or say or do, yet you felt a strange sort of longing for him despite the last you saw of him was him trying to scare you. There was a draw that you had towards him, not understanding why, you dare say you almost...enjoyed his asshole self.
"Day dreaming now?" You didn't realize how much your head was in the clouds when the voice startled you, causing you to jump and swivel your head around to face the rabbit you were just thinking of. Shit. How did he find this place? How did he find you? Jax had a smug smirk on his face as he walked closer, watching you with his black eyes. Trying to act cool, you rolled your eyes and took in a huge breath, turning back around to mindlessly throw the ball. In all reality, your heart was still beating incredibly fast. Why now?
"Oh come on, the silent treatment? Really? This is where you go to hide away from everyone?" His monotone voice made you sigh, he was really insisting on pissing you off extra hard today. Taking a deep breath, you turned your head to see Jax walking and standing right next to you. You really didn't want to deal with him right now. Growling, you throw the ball at him, hitting him in the shoulder, causing him to yell out.
"Hey! That was rude ya know?” You could tell he was genuinely getting annoyed with you, which peaked your interest greatly. He was always an asshole and abrasive, sure, but rarely he actually got annoyed with anyone back.
"Oh THAT was rude? As if you don't tick me off at any given chance and this is the result of it" You scoffed and shuffled yourself so you faced the colorful wall of soft blocks, wishing he would just leave. Why didn't he leave?
"Oh please, don't even start. You talk about me all the time, don't think I don't know" You freeze, his words hitting you like a wave of ice cold water. How does he know? Sure, you rant to Ragatha and Pomni and Gangle but, they wouldn't tell him. Would they? No, they wouldn't. Taking a deep breath in, you stayed silent as you exhaled, thinking of how to respond without making a fool of yourself.
"Well, it's nothing pleasent, but you would know that since you seem to know everything. It's not my fault I can't get you out of my head" Shit. Why did you say that? Your heart started to beat faster as you watch him smile and chuckle, you're doomed.
"You think about me all the time, eh? For some reason I don't think its just about how much you hate me, am I right?" He leaned closer to your face, causing you gulp and shuffle backwards, but he kept the closeness and only followed you.
"N-no! It's just about how much I hate you, of course! Everyone hates you!" You really were trying to save this, but the wall hit your back and he closed in, placing both hands next to your head as he stared at you with his dumbass smug smirk.
"Oh really? Why are you nervous then? If you hate me so much, you would push me away right now. Go on, do it" For some reason, you just couldn't bring yourself to do that, the seconds ticked on as he waited patiently, chuckling when he realized you weren't going to storm off in a rage.
"Oh I freaking knew it. You have a crush on me! Hah! You disguise your stupid little feelings for me as hatred, oh that's hilarious" You began to grew frustrated again, this time you were also extremely flustered and in no way put together. He just had to be an asshole for anything, didn't he?
"Fine, I do have a crush on you, ok? But if you're going to act like that then I will" You did it. You accepted that you liked him. He was totally right, you were disguising your feelings for him with hatred. But his attitude made you push him away, causing him to slightly stumble as you pick up your bouncy ball and start to leave your now comprised space before you felt his large hand wrap around your smaller one. Turning your head, you saw as his face was full of panic.
"Wait! Don't go. I'm-I'm sorry, ok?" He sounded strained as he apologized, obviously not used to it. Looking at him, you felt conflicted because what if he just continues to act like a dick?
"Look, I don't know what your deal is, but-"
"But, my deal is that...I like you too, ok? I act rude because I don't know how to fricking show affection, got it?" You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering if he was being genuine as it was incredibly hard to know with him. Maybe you should give him a chance...maybe. Maybe you should.
"Ok, fine. Got it. So uh- what do we do now?" He lets go of your wrist and you rub it, he wasn't gripping hard but it was still fairly firm, and look at him. I mean, where DO you know now? After all that?
"Well, we could ya know...do a little making-" You slapped him playfully before smiling and chuckling, shaking your head now relieved that the tension was gone. It honestly felt freeing to finally admit that you liked him now that it was all over, you were just in very heavy denial about it.
"Yeah, we aren't there just yet, Rabbit"
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generalsdiary · 9 months ago
Text
09:07 am
gn!reader x Dr. Ratio
warnings: none
word count: 600~
a/n: pure brainrot, not beta read, jamming to sparkle’s theme
description: you do his eyeliner, drabble (fluff)
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„hold still“ you dictate under your breath, your hand holding his chin in place.
he sighs. „I am very still-“ „yapping means you are not being still, I'll mess up the line, Veritas“ causing a glare from him. your other hand was resting on his cheek and attempting to make a perfect red line on his eyelid.
it looked... good enough when you were done. you moved your hand away, placing the brush on the nightstand and relaxing your posture. „there“
Veritas brings a small mirror to check your work, „hmm... I've done better. of course I do it every day“ his eyes leave the mirror and catch you glaring at him, „it was a bonding moment, Doctor Ratio“ your tone of voice revealing sarcasm and a hint of annoyment.
„that doesn't clear you away from criticism, especially if you wish to improve.“ his hands pull you back onto his lap, his eyes, the color of an eternal sunset, turning soft, „which would be good for you, you could then do it more often.“ Veritas smiles showing the gentle reasoning to his somewhat harsh sounding words. his swift change in behavior catches you slightly off guard.
„so hot and cold“ responding in a teasing tone.
„ah, I'd say I'm more hot than cold right now, aren't I,-“ his hand cups your chin, „my dear?“
a smile is apparent on your face, as is the eye roll, „and cocky it seems“ making him scoff at your words and look away. „don't worry Veritas, that is one of the reasons I... tolerate you“ you communicate those words in the form of a kiss on his cheek. Veritas' expression relaxes, his eyes closing.
„who's the hot and cold one now?“ his voice but a mere whisper. „unlike yourself, that isn't one of the reasons I like you.“ he waits for a response, patiently scanning your face to see if you'll try to guess. „then what is?“ guessing game isn't worth it at this moment, Veritas very obviously has a specific reason in mind and you feel excited to hear it.
„your kindness. and tolerance, towards... idiots“ to him, those words are completely true, despite his aloof character and at first glance rude behavior he cares a lot. he made sacrifices that benefit… well the whole universe; solving an energy crisis, creating serums, fixing centuries-old issues, and to him, most importantly, he continuously tries to make knowledge available to all people. of course, Ratio would appreciate those same qualities in his partner, not seeking a ‘genius’ necessarily, but rather just a humanitarian, sensible person.
Veritas' words don't fail to make you laugh and ruffle his silky soft violet hair, „and you! are my favorite~“ you exclaim proudly, with a shit-eating grin on your face, knowing he will react to the provocation.
„oh?“ he smirks as well, his hands moving from your sides to your back, he lays back and pushes you with him, making you gasp sharply. „what was it- I didn't catch that, what am I?“ he teases, his voice playful.
„an id-“ Veritas doesn't let you finish your thought, his lips crashing against yours, and when you start enjoying the kiss and the sweet taste of his lips - he pulls away, keeping it painfully short.
„hm... you were saying?“ his hand goes to the back of your head, rubbing your nape.
you frown, how dare he limit the kisses, „an idio-“ once again Veritas doesn’t let you finish the thought, pulling your lips onto his again. you can't help but chuckle and softly mumble between your lips meeting, „my favorite~“, „you mean the only one“, a laugh bubbles up your throat, even in a joke he wants it to be factually correct… or is it a hint of jealousy? doubtful, he isn’t a jealous man to your knowledge. food for thought perhaps.
„yes, the only one.“
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thepenultimateword · 10 months ago
Text
Sugar and Spice
Henchman dusted the flour off his hands and gave the spiced apple mixture a quick stir. Looked like the juices were releasing nicely with the sugar. This should be a perfectly gooey filling once he finished the crust.
He set out the first pie pan and had just picked up the dough when the double kitchen doors shrieked open. "Henchman, you're needed in the weapons room for cleaning."
Henchman barely gave Other Villain a glance. "Um...no?"
"Excuse me?"
He pressed the pie dough into the pan and took up a knife to trim the excess. "I'm supposed to finish 12 pies before dinner. If I leave the kitchen, I won't meet my deadline. Besides, weapons isn't my department."
"You're department is doing what you're told."
"And if Supervillain doesn't get his pies for the dinner tonight are you going to take responsibility?"
Other Villain's whole body quivered, and the next sentences came out through gritted teeth as if holding herself back from exploding. With her combustion abilities, she just might be. "The weapon's combat team failed another mission. They've been entirely dispatched. If you don't want to follow in their footsteps, I suggest you listen to your superior before I report you for insubordination."
Henchman sighed heavily but set aside the trimmed crust and ran his hands under the sink faucet, scalding away all the crusted flour. He hated it when people pulled the "villain" card. As if the title meant anything more than their abilities being active rather than passive. But until big bosses like Supervillain stopped treating combat abilities as the bar for worth, Henchman couldn't do much about the system's power dynamics. "Can I expect help? I can't spare more than an hour."
Other Villain gave a self-satisfied smile, quickly followed by an annoyed glance at Henchman. "I'll attempt to siphon help from a few other departments, but it may take some time."
Henchman sighed again. "Of course." He placed the bowl of apples in the fridge, pulling his apron over his head and hanging it on the wall hook on his way out the door.
Luckily, all the dough and the fillings were finished, and the oven could fit several pans at a time. He didn't have much faith in Other Villain finding him help--she'd always looked down on the culinary department's contribution even while happily scarfing down booster gelatin before each training session--but perhaps if he gave the weapons room the bare minimum he could make it back before dinner.
That hope disappeared as soon as he entered the weapons room. It was like no one had cleaned it once since the organization was established. Pockmarked targets and half-crushed practice dummies strewed the room. Weapons stuck into walls or laid discarded on the floor. Some were even dispersed throughout the tiered seating area. Henchman scooped up a scimitar by its hilt. Tsking as he twirled it in his hand. They didn't even properly clean--Was that blood?
Henchman dropped the weapon with a loud clatter. His insides chilled as he took in the rust-colored flecks spattering the flat of the blade. Not so much like a weapon that had met flesh as one that had tasted the aftermath of its owner's demise before it could even defend them. Similarly colored smears decorated the walls and flooring.
Other Villain's comment about the latest weapons team's fate rang through Henchman's mind, and suddenly the mess didn't seem so much their fault. Henchman didn't want to think about what actually went down here, and even if he did he shouldn't dare.
Ok, Henchman. Get in, get out, bake your pies.
First thing first, collect all the weapons dispersed throughout the room. Henchman picked up a pair of spears, wrenching one out of a thick practice mat with a spray of foam. He sighed. More mess.
He threw down the spears against the wall and moved for a half-crumpled metal shield. Did Supervillain come personally? No, don't think. That wasn't his job. As much as he hated Other Villain's attitude, she wasn't entirely wrong. His job was to do what he was told, with as little inquiry as possible.
He found an empty quiver at the top of the bleachers, the arrows scattered in tiny pieces among the seats. He'd have to get a broom for those later. But where was the bow? He ducked down to peer under benches but other than a snapped bow string and some close-up splatter that was definitely blood, he found nothing. Maybe it got thrown to the bottom when Supervillain...did what Supervillain did to "parasites."
Henchman skipped the steps two at a time, picking up a dagger teetering haphazardly over the edge of a bench along the way. He jumped down to the training mat with a loud POFF! Loud enough that he didn't notice the sound of the door opening until the flame-haired figure was almost right in front of him. Her hair was pulled into its usual thick braid crown, wound and wound like an endless coil of rope. Meanwhile, she stood on edge, a dog ready to attack, double-colored eyes flicking rabidly around the room. Finding Henchman the room's sole occupant, they eventually settled hungrily on him.
Henchman's heart skipped a beat, clutching the dagger in both hands, tip down, in front of them. "Sir? Er, Ma'am? Villain?"
The green eye looked ready to skin him, while the brown one spun webs of thought.
"Did...Other Villain send you?" Henchman could cringe at the ridiculous question, Villain outranked Other Villain by about a quadrillion stations, but he couldn't think of any other reason why she would be here.
"You're a henchman, right?" she said.
"Um...yes?"
Her gaze flicked to the dagger in his hands, and she turned on heel back toward the door. "Come with me."
Henchman blinked. What was up with villains being bossy today? Well, he took pissing off Villain much more seriously than Other Villain. Maybe she had further instructions for dealing with this mess. Or maybe he wasn't supposed to see this mess, and she'd been sent to deal with him. In any case, he couldn't say no, so he trailed numbly after her into the hall.
She didn't stop there, leading him around several bends, all the way to the stairwell, and down several flights of stairs. When they emerged they were on ground level.
Henchman scrambled to keep up with her stride out the door and into the parking lot. "Um, eminence," Henchman panted, finally remembering the correct title, "do you need help carrying some things upstairs? I could call you a couple runners if you need."
Villain popped open the passenger door to a steel blue coupe. "Get in."
Henchman obeyed on instinct. "Um--"
Villain closed the door on his question, circling around the front of the vehicle and sliding into the driver's seat. She jammed the keys into the ignition and roared the engine to life.
"Wait, are we leaving?" Henchman exclaimed, jolting out of his dronish obedience. Cleaning the weapons room was one thing, but leaving the building to who knew where was another. He really didn't want to be killed for completing neither of his responsibilities today.
"We have somewhere to be," Villain said, eyes fixed straight ahead as she wove through the lot. As she turned out on the main road, the car went from 10 to 100 in a matter of seconds. "A mission."
"But I have work!" Henchman yelped, the acceleration pressing his back into the warm leather seat.
"Not anymore."
"But Supervillain--"
"Has different orders."
Henchman tried to unravel that statement. Supervillain had never wanted him on a mission. This had to be some sort of mistake.
"You're sure?" he said. "Supervillain wants me to go with you?
"Yep."
"Because you kind of made it seem like you didn't know who I was?"
"I don't, I'm working off descriptions."
"Henchman?" Henchman offered. "Did he say Henchman?"
Villain lifted one hand off the wheel, pointing at him with a little knowing tongue click. "That's the one. You're my support."
"Oh." Henchman took a few quiet moments to swallow that. Support made more sense. Maybe this was some sort of away mission. Henchman's bakes didn't pack as much oomph when they were stale, so maybe Supervillain had sent him along for optimum power. It must be something really important if that were the case. But then why didn't anyone inform him? Did Other Villain send him to the weapons room out of spite, hoping he wouldn't be told in time? "What's the mission?"
"Hero agency infiltration. One of the big ones. We're going to have fake identities, safe houses, everything."
Henchman frowned. That sounded like a mission with lots of planning involved, not a spur-of-the-moment run-out-the-door sort of thing. "Is it far?"
"Very far." Villain turned sharply onto the highway's entry ramp. "And top secret. So you can't call anyone."
Henchman's insides twisted. He didn't get this far in a villain organization without being able to feel when something was off. But he also didn't get this far by asking too many questions.
"Ok."
Villain didn't say anymore after that. Henchman half pondered asking if he should turn on some music but decided against it. He leaned his head back against the seat rest, taking in the rumble of the engine and the muffled whip of the wind along either side of the car's sleek body. Villain breathed from her side of the car, but he tried not to think to hard about that. He'd barely interacted with her more than a handful of times, and only ever in passing or with a group. None of which he expected her to remember. Supervillain knew who he was because he knew how to utilize him. Villain didn't need to know any of that to do her job, which was to be the most lethal weapon in Supervillain's arsenal.
Henchman struggled against heavy eyelids, the soothing glide of the car and the exhaustion of the day hitting him all at once. He'd been prepping those pies for hours before Other Villain interrupted him. The apples were going to go bad if he wasn't back in a couple days. He couldn't even call one of the other chefs to finish them for him with this no-call rule, not that they'd have full effect without him doing each step anyway.
He yawned widely.
What sort of things...did Villain...like...?
Henchman didn't remember dozing off, but when he came to, the sky was dark and his face was pressed up against his window.
"I'm going to make you clean that glass," Villain said.
Henchman raised his head drowsily, squinting at the drool smear for several long seconds before shooting up completely straight in his seat.
"I'm sorry!"
Villain rolled her eyes. "You don't need to grovel about it." She pushed open her door and stepped out into the night. "Anyway, we're here."
"Here?" Henchman said, quickly getting out after her.
Villain nodded at the building with its glowing red overhead sign: Azure Inn. "Hotel."
"This is our safe house?"
"This is on the way to the safe house," Villain said, then shooting him a glare. "Stop asking so many questions."
Henchman bit his lip to stop from asking how much further they had to go tomorrow or where they even were now. He simply trailed her into the office as she purchased their room--two twin beds--and then continued after her to room 109.
Everything was blue. Curtains, bedspreads, carpets; it was no wonder how the hotel got its name.
Villain headed straight into the bathroom and Henchman plopped down on one blue bed stretching his long legs to the end with a soft groan as his thoughts wandered once again to the kitchen. This time to the pie dough, sitting in the open air in its tin. It was probably dry by now. His eyes flicked to the wall clock. 12:20 a.m. Supervillain's dinner was over by now too. How did they manage?
The bathroom door creaked, and Villain stepped into the main room, long hair loosed on her shoulders, framing her face in a thick, kinked mane.
Henchman's heart skipped a stupid beat.
As if hearing it, Villain's eyes whirled in his direction, pinning him to the mattress like finely whetted blades. "What are you doing?"
Henchman slowly pushed himself upright."Going...to bed?"
"You're support; you need to keep watch."
"For what?"
"For heroes, moron!" she snapped.
Henchman flinched. "Oh. Right. Um. They know we're coming?"
Villain stormed across the room, yanking back the covers and throwing herself violently onto her mattress. “We don't know, but it's better to be safe than sorry. You already slept in the car, so just stay awake until morning.”
“Right.” Henchman watched Villain snuggle beneath the covers locks of hair fanning like licking flame across her pillow. He cleared his throat. "One more question."
Villain sighed. "What?"
"What do you expect me to do if a hero does show up?”
“Fight them?” she said in a tone that reeked of suspicion that Henchman might actually be stupid.
“Ha, yes, that would seem obvious,” Henchman replied, attitude sneaking into his own tone. “If I knew how.”
Villain shot upright. “What?”
“Combat isn’t my speciality.”
“But you’re a combat henchman!”
Henchman furrowed his brow. “Nooo.”
"What do you mean? You were in the weapons room!”
"Yeah, because Supervillain killed them all! And apparently there was no one else around to clean up the mess!”
“He…?” Villain drew up her knees, leaning her elbows on the caps and rubbing her thumbs hard into her temples. “No, no, no, no. He’s further ahead than I thought. Has he already…? No. Maybe…”
“Villain?”
She jerked her head sharply toward him. "What do you do?"
Henchman wet his lips, the sheer contrast of Villain’s expectations, of this entire mistake, hitting him all at once. He looked down at the mattress sheepishly. “I bake."
Part Two
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