#boxers or briefs or nah

[beefrobeefcal]

I need your professional opinion: what kind of underwear does Big Fish like to wear on a special night out? 🩲

Such a good looking question, Nevy!

What underwear?

Yours in sin,

Beefro👌🥩💜

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my boyfriend to wear lingerie?

Wow that sounds really fucking weird and this is weird but anyway

I (31M) am dating a guy (29M) and have been for about 4 years now, and we share an apartment. He's so beyond perfect and I am insanely lucky, and I'm planning on proposing to him this June.

Important to note that he is FTM. I am not, I'm very cis. He doesn't dress very masculinely, he likes dresses and skirts and stuff, which I like because he looks fucking hot in them and it makes him happy to dress like that. I haven't ever seen him wear ladies' underwear or anything like that before, only boxer briefs. I didn't really realize that till after this conflict though.

Lately I was in... a certain store for adults, picking up some undisclosed items, and noticed some lingerie that I thought would look really good on him. I ended up buying it as a gift.

When I showed it to him that night though his face just fell. He started tearing up and said he really didn't want to wear it and that he felt really insulted that I'd ask him to wear something like that. I apologized right off the bat, but I said was confused and I told him that he wears fem clothes the time. He told me that women's underwear made him feel really dysphoric and the lingerie had this thing, I forgot what he called it, but it basically makes the breasts more prominent like a wire or something (I grew up with two equally cis brothers and a mom who never talked about any of this so cut me some slack). He got top surgery years before he met me so I'm not sure what he's talking about.

Anyway. I apologized and put it back in the bag, told him I'd return it and I intend to. We ended up going to bed without having sex like we planned. He didn't touch me at all all night and didn't kiss me goodbye before he went to work the next morning.

I want to be very clear. I'm not trans, and I would never challenge him on what makes him dysphoric. But I do want him to explain what upsets him so I understand. I want to know what he's thinking so he doesn't just shut down on me.

One last thing. I know this is the drastic actions website but I don't want to see any of the "break up" comments or any sort of slander against my boyfriend. I love that boy and I am going to marry him if he'll have me.

Was I TA for getting him a gift? I wanted to surprise him but it did not turn out well. I would also appreciate any advice, especially from other trans guys. Thank you all.

What are these acronyms?

[coveredinsweetpea]

not to be a whore........... but imagine making out with Eddie's buldge through his underwear 😩

🥴🥴🥴 tbh I think there are two different scenarios and I wanted to choose only one to elaborate on but I couldn't so here I go: you're both either too lazy to care and this evolves from a sleepy cuddling session OR you're being needy and clingy, begging for his attention - just a whiny mess basically, and this is all that he's willing to give you. Both detailed under the cut 🥴🥴 (the 2nd one is pure filth, humiliation, degradation etc 18+!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

It's summer, Wayne's not in town and you have all the trailer to yourselves. But it's still early, no one's in the mood to party yet, it's hot and you're both too lazy to move. 

Eddie's starfish on the bed, a comic book having him completely under its spell, while you lay lazily with your head on his tummy, hoping sleep would envelop you. But it doesn't; Eddie's too caught up with a plot twist he didn't see coming, and ideas start coming to you. 

Your eyes fix the outline of his cock and without saying a word, you palm him in your hand, your fingers drawing random patterns on the material of his boxer briefs. 

Eddie doesn't react, at least not to your knowledge, but one eyebrow does pop up. You don't see it however and decide to keep going, moving your hand a bit to the side so you can rub the length of his cock. 

"Sweetheart?" Eddie lifts his comic book so he can look at you, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing"

You don't even look at him, just keep teasing him through his boxers, until he can't help but tense his thighs. "Love?"

"Yeah?" again, you answer without bothering to face him, but this time you do move. Just in the opposite direction, nonchalantly pressing your lips against his bulge. 

The gesture was light, not too sudden or too strong, but the reason he froze for a second is the pure confusion that washed over him. But he doesn't get a chance to ask, because when he feels what you're doing - understands that you're right now literally kissing the length of his cock, he can't help but chuckle. 

"Sweetheart, you know I can take those off for you, right?" Eddie teases, one hand on the top of your head as you keep going.

"Nah" you shrug and wrap your lips around his clothed tip. One of your hands slips lower, your fingers brushing against his balls as you start sucking. 

"Ah fuck" he gasps. But you don't budge.

You keep at it - licking, sucking, grabbing, your teeth lightly grazing the tip of his cock. 

"Baby, damn it" the comic book flies across the room, his attention now fully on you. "You wanna make me cum like that?"

But you don't answer. You just shove your hand up one of the legs of his boxer, cup his balls into your hand, and resume full on making out with his cock. 

The sheer feeling of him getting hard under your lips, the way he can barely control his breathing, how his thighs tense and how his abdomen clenches every time you apply just a little bit more pressure, makes you want to see just how far you can go. 

Brushing your thumb over the wet patches on his underwear, you look up at him, "Yeah, I wanna. Can I try?"

"Try?" he laughs and rubs your cheek with the back of his fingers, "Darling, you're halfway there"

You beam under his praise and resume your quest, eagerly sucking and tugging through the material as his cock visibly stiffens.

"But then you'll take yours off. You can play around all you want, but you know I can't stop until you've made a mess on my face, doll"

Fine by you.

OR

You being clingy isn't anything new. The planets sometimes settle so that some days the only thing you want is his attention and nothing else. And it's usually not a problem, Eddie being more than happy to oblige and give you what you so desperately crave, but there are also days when that is not possible. 

Like this one.

Busy with tasks Wayne left for him, the campaign needing some last minute fixes, Dustin asking for a ride and a Corroded Coffin concert late in the evening - this day is bound to suck for the both of you. 

You manage to compose yourself for as long as you can, but by the time you reach the venue for the show, you're almost out of your mind. Begging, teasing, whining, throwing yourself at other men to get his attention - you do everything in your power to get his attention. But you fail. Miserably. As once you finally get home, things don't play out the way you had hoped - at all. 

"So fucking desperate, like a fucking whore" Eddie scoffs, plopping down on the couch. He spreads his legs and nods, "Do your thing"

Normally, you'd whine and complain, but your brain isn't cooperating so you listen to his command. You kneel in front of him, undo his jeans, and then helplessly look up at him, bottom lip popping out. "Eddie…"

"Do you need help, kitten?"

You nod.

"Do you deserve it? You acted like a dumb slut all night. Why would I help you? You can't even take my dick out, why would I let you suck it?"

"Please, Eddie…" you cry.

"Look into my eyes, doll" he commands, his hand on your chin forcing you to face him. "Apologize for the way you've been tonight"

"I'm- I'm sorry" you sniffle, "Please-"

"Sorry for being such a cock thirsty whore that you can't even function unless you get to have my dick down your throat?"

"...yes"

"Say it, baby. You need to hear yourself saying it. And look into my eyes while you do it, love. Show me how bad you want it"

"Please, Eddie-" you blink, "I'm sorry for being such a whore, but I need it, please. Can I please, please, suck your cock, please?"

And your pleading might have been enough but you'll never know. Eddie doesn't even get a chance to fully strip before he sees the hungry look in your eyes. "Come here" he motions as he stands up, his jeans now pooling around his ankles. "Show me you want it"

For a second, you look up at him in confusion, but the way his cock stretches the material of his underwear has you feral all over again.

So you don't question it, don't complain, you just get to work. He's hard - throbbing almost, the wet patch of precum making your tongue tingle as you make out with his cock as best you can. 

"That's my girl" he grins, patting your head, "My good girl, keep going. Make me cum. If you can do it, you get to swallow it all, baby"

[nubsdolls]

cautiiioooon!!,, slighty touchin, hobies real sweet, some gentle teasing, reader gets high with hobie, jus some fluff slash smutt, i also do not smoke so i apologize if any of the smoking parts arent true!!! but other than that enjooy!!

your back's pressed up against hobies chest, nicely placed atop his lap, in one of his, definitely way to big in size, band tees and some boxer briefs, the warm skin of your thighs rubbing against him, one of his hands resting on your hip.

he listens as you ramble on about your day and how miguels an absolute dick as he takes a long drag of his blunt before tilting his head up to blow out the cloud of smoke, not to blow it into your pretty little head.

you kind of pause, youve seen him smoke before, but you had never tried it, straying away from the substance, for no reason in particular, you didnt have anything against it, but just watching him made you a little curious.

you shuffled around in his lap a little before he firmly held onto your hips, holding you down.

"luv?, whatcha doin?" hes not sure if your aware that your grinding on him just the slightest. "hey um, bie'.. do you think i could try smoking with you?" you mutter, kind of embarrassed, of never having had smoked before.

so a few minutes later, you were seated across from each other, hobie explaining what to do, and what not.

"you dont wanna keep it in too long, yeah? but dont exhale immediately." he explained, his hands gesturing and practically talking along with him, sliding the blunt into your hand.

bringing it up to your mouth, you take a sharp drag, before exhaling, coughing from the effect, it was sweet yet a little bitter, it had a strange aftertaste to it.

he chuckled, rubbing your back and patting it gently, "you did good f' ya first dove."

leaning back a little for stability, his hands propping his up as he watched you.

"it has a weird taste, its not bad but like its kinda bittersweet." explaining, smaller coughs escaping you, your eyes stung a little. hesitantly, you took another drag, a little deeper, but softer. waiting a moment before exhaling, to your surprise, not coughing.

your eyes lit up, turning to him, hands slightly raised. he sat up, eyes glistening in admiration, seeing you excited over something so small made his heart beat a little faster.

"i forgot to tell you, this is probably gonna hit tha' hardest since its ya first.. id suggest only 2 to 5 hits.." tilting his head to look over at the blunt in your hand, then back at you.

"nah i can handle it."

yet a few minutes later, it had hit. and it hit hard.

"how d'ya feel?" he mumbled, you guys were back on your bed and his hands were on your waist, playing around with the band of your boxers. "has i' kicked in yet?"

"mhhh, i dunno, like im floating, and.. im here.." only small sounds escaped from you from here on out, inaudible babbling and giggling as you practically sank into his touch.

he genuinely laughs out loud from the state your in. "christ, ya absolutely baked luv." he mumbled through giggles, his long slender fingers making it onto the skin above the boxers, simply tracing little shapes onto your skin.

impulsively, out of nowhere, you flip over and make it so your facing him, he lifts his hand up confused, but not stopping you, your hands around his neck before you just collapse onto him.

"ya' need me so bad love? coulda jus' said so." he mumbled, his voice teasing, he moved one of his hands to your hip while the other gently ran up and down your spine.

you just spoke nonsense into his collarbone, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, almost nipping at it.

maybe you hadnt noticed it but hobie noticed the way you started gently straddling yourself on him, he could feel the ache between your thighs, the sheer fabric of your boxers not dismissing any subtle feeling. the high combined with the grinding sensation made it so so much better, the waves almost melting your brain.

"baby.." he whines, almost pitiful, his girl's trying to get off by just pushing her hips against him. he plants the sweetest kisses to her neck, his teeth gently biting down but not breaking skin. his hands inching farther up your shirt, hands cradled around your tits.

he could feel his tip leaking with precum, she was just too precious like this, your eyes tearing up from the neediness or from the high, maybe both. you left out a frustrated whine, and who was he to deny his girl?

a few minutes of just straight, slow, sloppy, panting thrusts, filling your needy cunt all the way up, his hands on your waist, guiding you back onto his dick, your face up against the couch and holding onto the pillows to ground yourself.

while hes fucking you hes also slowly taking drags of a blunt. blowing the smoke onto your lower back as he picks up the pace, earning pornstar—worthy moans out of you. "bie—" you shuddered, so incoherent and tears almost spilling from how much pleasure you were taking in.

"cmon baby.. use ya words, yeah?" he grips onto your waist a little more, his nails digging into your skin, the warm blunt in his hand as he gently pulls out before slamming back into you, the sound of your juices and skin slapping almost a rhythm.

and when he finally cums into you its almost an out-of-body experience, like your floating, back arching so far you thought you were gonna snap. finally, he pulls out, your evident orgasms rushing down your thighs. he flips you over, gently placing kisses on your heated face.

hi guys!!! im sosososos sorry ive been gone, whole lotta school work nd i just got back from nyc.. also im not vry creative so pls send requests:( (im goin crazy)

[rafescvntyclubgf]

Relax, Sweetness - JJ Blurb

+18 Minor DNI

JJ x GF!Reader

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 Warnings: smut, language, pet names, gunplay, cum tasting, brief unprotected p in v

📖 JJ enlists his girlfriend (reader) for a little help christening his gun.

✨ “You don’t trust me?” He gives you a crooked smile, lifting the gun up to his head, pulling the trigger. You hear the clinking of metal on metal making you gasp. “So… We good? You gonna help me, angel girl?” ✨

700 words

Reader’s POV:

“Don’t you think it’s a little much, Jayj? Do you really need a gun?” You ask wearily, cocking an eyebrow at your boyfriend who’s a little too excited about his new gun as he moves around his room stealthily, aiming at invisible bad guys as you continue to read your book.

“‘Course I do, princess.” He gives you a smirk, cigarette dangling from his lips, nothing but some white boxers on his tanned body.

“Why though?”

“Protection, doll. Think of it like a condom. Yeah? Ya keep it in your pocket, just in case. Wouldn’t wanna risk not having one of those. Same shit,” he chuckles raspily; twirling the gun around his finger.

“Is it loaded?” You whisper.

“Nah… Used all the bullets up this afternoon.”

“Doing what, JJ?”

“Shootin’ stuff.”

“Like…”

“Cans, mom. I was shooting cans with Pope, alright? What are you so worried about?” He chuckles as he saunters your way, ashing his cigarette out on your metal bed frame. He turns his hat backward as he leans in a little closer, giving you a sweet kiss. “I know what you’re gonna say-”

“You, Jayj. M’worried about you. Why would you all of a sudden need a gun?”

“I’ve always needed a gun,” he mumbles. “And, could you stop bringin’ down the room? It’s fine. It’s fine. Alright? Nothin’ to worry about. Papa J is safe. Even safer now. One regret, though… One big ole regret. Never got to christen this thing.”

“Christen your gun… How do you do that?” You ask, apprehensively.

“With good pussy,” he chuckles, his response making your heart race as you puzzle together what he wants to do with your help.

“It’s not loaded… Like – Are you sure?” You ask weakly, feeling a steady pulse between your thighs, terrified but excited all at the same breath.

“You don’t trust me?” He gives you a crooked smile, lifting the gun up to his head, pulling the trigger. You hear the clinking of metal on metal making you gasp. “So… We good? You gonna help me, angel girl?”

“Yeah-” He pushes you back on the mattress, flipping your skirt before you can change your mind. JJ loops his fingers around the string of your panties, tugging them away.

You feel the chill of the metal against your warm skin as JJ traces the gun higher and higher. Goosebumps spread across your body as he reaches your inner thigh, making you draw in slightly. “Relax, sweetness. You’re safe. Alright?” He mumbles as he crawls a little closer.

“Fuckkk,” he moans as the gun hits your slick, gliding through your folds. He plays a little more, collecting your essence on the muzzle. JJ swirls the tip gently on your clit, watching as you whimper and moan below him. Your eyes widen as he moves lower, assuming what’s to come.

“Uh – Jayj? I… Um,” you stammer as you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“My cock’s bigger,” he rasps, giving you a little wink before pressing it inside, making you toss your head back.

“Shit, JJ,��� you gasp.

“My girl likes it. Huh?” He lowers himself to your lips as he strokes nice and slow. Your tongue greets his, reeling as he swallows moan after moan.

You feel him draw it out completely, eyeing the weapon glazed with your wetness. “Beautiful,” he groans. “For you.” He extends it your way, your hand trembles as you take it off his. JJ rolls to his back, working his boxers off his hips, tossing them to the side. “Co’mere, darlin’,” he drawls.

You hover over his rock-hard cock, gun clasped in your other hand. “Now what, Jayj?” You smile. He clasps your hips, lowering you slowly down on his length until you’re fully sat.

“Look at you,” he praises. His baby blues brimming with lust. “Fuck. You look good.” JJ’s hands rest on the fullness of your hips, looking at you hungrily as his tongue glides along his bottom lip. “Let me taste it.”

“Jayj…”

“C’mon,” his lips part ever so slightly. The gun passing his lips. JJ sucks off your slick, eyes rolling back as a deep moan rumbles in his chest. His eyes flutter shut, sucking all the way back to the tip. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he groans as you rest the piece down on the comforter. He smacks your ass roughly, soothing the sting with his heavy hands as he grips your ass. “That’s how it’s done, baby.” JJ reaches up, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, towing you close. “How’d that feel?” He whispers as his lips graze yours slowly.

“Good,” you giggle breathily, still riding an indescribable high. You start to wind your hips, grinding on his cock as he smiles against your lips.

“Just another reason I needed that gun, Princess.”

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[kiesbrainjuice]

— AFTERPARTY ! tooru oikawa

➥ pr : timeskip!oikawa x famous!fem!reader

➥ syn : waking up with a famous model in your bed after a afterparty you didn’t remember ? hell nah

➥ wc : 3.2k

➥ tw : drunk sex (no description of sex lol), suggestive talks, make out session at the end, fluffy morning, kind of a oneshot??

➥ a/n : new baby : tooru. but the matter is that I love tooru from s4 only (like the mini moment) because he is prettier in the art of the s4 (like all haikyuu characters lmao)

The bright morning light streaming through the slats of the blinds was enough to make Oikawa Tooru groan as he stirred in bed, his head pounding mercilessly. He squinted against the intrusive glow, and his hand instinctively came up to rub at his temple.

How much did I drink last night?

The pounding headache was relentless, accompanied by a haze of fragmented memories from the night before. He remembered the match—Argentina against Japan. He’d played well, as expected. The crowd had been electric, the cheers still echoing faintly in his ears. After that? The after-party. It had been a lavish celebration, as it always was when his team won a match.

He groaned again, this time shifting slightly to sit up. Something felt off. The sheets bunched uncomfortably low around his waist, and… there was a distinct chill against his skin. All of his skin. That’s when it hit him. He wasn’t wearing any clothes.

Oikawa blinked once, then twice, as the realization settled like a heavy weight in his chest. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, his stomach twisting with dread.

His breath caught in his throat.

There, lying tangled in his expensive silk sheets, was someone else. A woman. Naked.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Long hair spilled over his pillow, framing a face that could only be described as breathtaking. Even in sleep, she radiated elegance and beauty, her features far too familiar to him.

He blinked again, harder this time, hoping he was hallucinating. But no, it was her. You. The internationally famous model. The model who had attended the match last night, who had drawn attention from everyone in the room, including him.

“The fuck did I do?” Oikawa whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, willing his brain to recall more of the night. Images flashed in his mind—brief but damning. He remembered you laughing, your hand brushing his as you leaned in closer. He remembered drinking, and then drinking more, the two of you at the center of the party. Dancing. Your hand in his. The way you’d looked at him, eyes sparkling with mischief and something more.

And then… nothing. A black hole of memory.

His heart raced as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, careful not to jostle you awake. His bare feet touched the cold floor, grounding him slightly as panic set in. He ran a hand through his tousled brown hair, muttering under his breath, “This cannot be happening. What the hell did I do?”

He stood up, wincing as the pounding in his head intensified. The sleek, modern apartment he called home suddenly felt far too small, the walls closing in as he scrambled to piece together what had happened. His mind raced with questions.

Did we…? He glanced back at you, your bare shoulder peeking out from under the sheets. The answer was obvious.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, louder this time. His hands tugged at his hair in frustration. What was supposed to be a simple celebration had somehow spiraled into this.

Oikawa moved quickly, grabbing his boxers and pulling them on with a sense of urgency. He needed to think, to figure out how to handle this before you woke up. The last thing he wanted was for the world to find out that Tooru Oikawa, Argentina’s star setter and public heartthrob, had spent the night with one of the most famous women on the planet—and couldn’t even remember how it happened.

As he reached for his sweatpants, he stole another glance at you. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent as you shifted beneath the covers. He froze, his heart leaping into his throat. But you didn’t wake.

He let out a shaky breath. Figure this out. Damage control. His thoughts were a mess, his usual confidence nowhere to be found.

All he knew was that this was a disaster waiting to happen, and he had no idea how to fix it.

The sound of running water filled the silence of the apartment as Oikawa leaned against the counter in his sleek, minimalist kitchen. A glass of cold water sat on the marble countertop next to a packet of painkillers, a necessary remedy for the throbbing in his head. His thoughts were still scattered, the events of the night before refusing to organize themselves into a coherent narrative.

How do I get through this without making things worse? He sighed, rubbing his temples.

But just as he was about to pop the medication into his mouth, a small cry from the bedroom jolted him upright.

“Ah!”

This was followed by a loud thud.

Oikawa’s eyes widened in alarm, and without a second thought, he abandoned the glass and rushed toward the sound.

Pushing open the bedroom door, he found you on the floor, tangled in a heap of silk sheets. You were rubbing your temple with one hand, clearly disoriented, while the other hand clutched the fabric tightly to your chest in an effort to cover yourself.

“Are you okay?!” Oikawa asked, rushing toward you but stopping a few steps away, suddenly unsure of how to proceed.

You blinked up at him, your expression a mix of confusion and discomfort. “What the…?” Your voice was hoarse, your gaze darting around the room. It didn’t take long for your eyes to land on him—dressed now in sweatpants and nothing on the torso, his hair still messy from sleep.

Your eyes locked. For a moment, neither of you said a word, the silence charged with unspoken questions.

Oikawa broke the stare first, clearing his throat awkwardly and running a hand through his hair. “Uh, you fell. Are you—are you hurt?”

You shook your head slowly, your fingers still pressing into your temple. “No, just… dizzy. My head is killing me.” Your voice carried a groggy edge as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. “Where am I?”

“My apartment,” he said quickly, before realizing how bad that sounded. “I mean, um, last night… we… Uh…” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, his face flushing slightly.

Your brows furrowed as you pulled the sheets tighter around yourself. “Last night?”

“Yeah…” He scratched the back of his neck, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. “It’s… complicated.”

You groaned softly, closing your eyes and leaning back against the bed. “Of course it is.”

Oikawa hesitated for a moment before walking over to his closet. “Uh, here,” he said, pulling out a neatly folded sweatshirt. He handed them to you, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. “You can wear these for now. I, uh, couldn’t find your dress.”

You glanced at the clothes and then back at him, one brow arching slightly. “You ‘couldn’t find’ my dress? Or did you not want to look too hard for it?”

“Hey!” he protested, holding up his hands defensively. “I swear I looked!”

You let out a soft laugh, your voice laced with amusement despite your pounding headache. “Relax, setter boy. I’m teasing.”

“Setter boy?” He blinked, surprised you recognized him despite the chaos.

You smirked faintly, accepting the clothes. “You’re Oikawa Tooru. Star setter for Argentina. Kind of hard not to know who you are.”

“Ah, well, I guess I’m famous.” He flashed a small grin despite himself, but it quickly faded when he remembered the situation. “Anyway, uh… you can change in the bathroom if you want.”

Once you were dressed in his oversized sweatshirt—which practically swallowed you—you emerged from the bathroom and followed Oikawa into the kitchen.

He gestured toward one of the high stools at the counter. “Here. Sit. I’ll get you some water and something for your head.”

You slid onto the stool, glancing around the apartment as the golden morning light poured in through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The view was stunning, showcasing the bustling streets of Buenos Aires far below.

“You’ve got a nice place,” you commented, your voice light.

“Thanks,” Oikawa replied, handing you the glass of water and the painkillers. “Volleyball pays well when you’re good at it.” He gave you a playful smirk.

“Modest, aren’t you?” you teased, taking the pills and downing them with a sip of water.

“Only when it counts.”

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, the initial awkwardness melting away as you both talked. You shared fragments of last night—how you’d ended up at the match, your thoughts on the game, and your blurry memories of the after-party. Oikawa admitted he didn’t remember much either, earning a laugh from you when he sheepishly confessed to drinking far too much.

“So let me get this straight,” you said, resting your chin on your hand as you gazed at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “You invited me to the after-party, we drank way too much, and now we’re here—me in your clothes, with no idea what happened in between?”

“Pretty much,” Oikawa replied, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms. “I swear this isn’t how I usually spend my mornings.”

“Sure it isn’t,” you teased, your smile widening.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re awfully confident for someone who woke up in a stranger’s bed.”

“Well,” you said, leaning forward slightly, “when the stranger is as charming as you, it’s hard to complain.”

Oikawa froze for half a second, caught off guard by your boldness. His ears turned red, and he quickly looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “Charming, huh? You must still be half-asleep.”

You laughed softly, enjoying how flustered he was. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just fun to mess with.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but there was a faint smile on his lips. “Drink your water before you pass out again.”

The golden light bathed the two of you as the conversation continued, the tension from earlier replaced by a surprising sense of comfort.

Oikawa leaned back against the counter, watching you sip the water he’d given you. He tapped his fingers absently on the marble surface, his thoughts still a little scattered, though the easy rhythm of your conversation was helping ground him.

“So,” he started, after a brief pause. “You’re a model. Internationally famous, apparently.”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “What gave it away? The fact that half your team was trying to talk to me last night?”

Oikawa rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Not my fault you showed up looking like…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely in your direction. “…that.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was,” he admitted with a small smile. Then, as if a lightbulb went off in his head, he straightened. “Wait, do you like matcha?”

The sudden change of topic caught you off guard, but you nodded. “Yeah, I love matcha. Why?”

“Perfect.” Oikawa pushed away from the counter, opening a cabinet and rummaging through its contents. “I think I have some matcha powder lying around. Someone on the team gave it to me because they thought I’d like it, but I’ve never actually bothered to make it.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “You don’t know how to make matcha?”

“Is that so weird?” he asked, glancing at you with mock offense.

“Yes!” you said, laughing. “It’s not hard at all. How do you not know how to make it?”

“Look, I’ve got plenty of other talents,” he retorted, pulling out a small tin of matcha powder. “But making fancy drinks isn’t one of them. Think you can handle teaching me, Miss ‘International Model Who Knows Everything’?”

You rolled your eyes, standing up and walking over to join him at the counter. “Fine. Let me show you how it’s done.”

Oikawa stepped aside, giving you room as you inspected the tin and found the necessary tools. He watched you intently, leaning slightly against the counter as you explained each step.

“First, you need a small bowl,” you said, grabbing one from a nearby cabinet. “Then you put a teaspoon of matcha powder in it, like this.”

You demonstrated, your movements confident and precise. Oikawa’s eyes lingered on you as you worked, taking note of how focused you looked.

“Next,” you continued, “you add a little bit of hot water. Not boiling, though—it’ll ruin the flavor.”

As you poured the water, he leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. “Okay, what’s next?”

“Now we whisk,” you said, grabbing a small bamboo whisk. You turned to him, holding it up. “You do have one of these, right?”

Oikawa blinked at the whisk, then at you. “I mean… I guess I do?”

You laughed. “Unbelievable. Anyway, you whisk it like this.” You began whisking the mixture in quick, precise motions, creating a frothy layer on top.

Oikawa leaned closer, peering over your shoulder. “You make it look easy.”

“It is easy,” you teased, glancing at him. The proximity between the two of you was suddenly very apparent—his face was only inches from yours, his warm brown eyes locked on the bowl. Your breath hitched slightly, but you forced yourself to focus.

“Here, you try,” you said, handing him the whisk.

Oikawa took it, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He hesitated for a moment, then tried to mimic your movements.

“No, no,” you said, laughing as you reached out to guide his hand. “Like this. You need to whisk in an ‘M’ or ‘W’ motion, not just stir in circles.”

Your hands covered his as you corrected his movements, and the closeness left you both a little breathless. Oikawa cleared his throat, his cheeks warming slightly.

“See?” you said softly, glancing up at him. “Not so hard.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, looking away to hide his growing embarrassment.

Once the matcha was ready, you poured it into two mugs and handed one to him. “Alright, moment of truth. Try it.”

Oikawa hesitated, eyeing the vibrant green liquid. “It smells… earthy.”

“Just drink it,” you said, rolling your eyes.

He took a sip, his expression instantly shifting from curiosity to regret. “Oh. Oh no.”

You burst out laughing, nearly spilling your drink. “You hate it?”

“It tastes like grass!” he exclaimed, setting the mug down and sticking out his tongue dramatically. “How do people drink this stuff?”

“Not everyone has the palate of a five-year-old,” you teased, still laughing. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“Well, I’m not acquiring it anytime soon,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

You smiled, leaning against the counter. “At least you tried. That’s something.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Next time, I’m teaching you something. Something that doesn’t taste like… whatever that was.”

“Deal,” you said, raising your mug in a mock toast. “But I’m still counting this as a win.”

The playful banter between the two of you continued as you lingered in the kitchen, the golden morning light washing over the space and reflecting off the sleek countertops. Oikawa leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, shaking his head as he watched you sip your matcha with an expression of triumph.

“You’re way too smug about this,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Well, someone has to be,” you teased, taking another sip and setting the mug down. “I mean, you’re the one who didn’t even know how to whisk properly. That’s basic stuff, setter boy.”

Oikawa let out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “I’m a volleyball player, not a barista. Cut me some slack, Miss Perfect.”

“Perfect?” you repeated with a smirk. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t meant to be—” he started, but stopped when he saw your grin widen. He huffed. “Fine, it was a compliment. Don’t let it go to your head.”

You laughed, stepping closer to him as you leaned against the counter. “Too late.”

Oikawa shook his head in mock exasperation but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. The conversation felt effortless, the awkwardness from earlier replaced by a surprising sense of comfort.

As the laughter died down, you reached for the mug of matcha again, only for your fingers to brush against his. Oikawa had moved at the same time, intending to push the mug further aside, and the sudden contact startled both of you.

“Ah—sorry,” you said, pulling your hand back.

“No, it’s fine,” Oikawa replied, his voice quieter now.

You both froze, the playful atmosphere shifting into something else entirely. You were suddenly acutely aware of how close you were—close enough to see the golden light catch the warm brown in his eyes, close enough to feel the faint heat radiating from him.

Neither of you moved, and neither of you spoke. The air between you felt heavy, charged with an unspoken tension.

You weren’t sure who leaned in first—maybe it was him, maybe it was you—but the distance between your faces vanished in an instant. Before you could second-guess it, your lips brushed against his, soft and tentative.

Oikawa stiffened for a fraction of a second, clearly caught off guard, but then his body relaxed, and he leaned in further, pressing his lips more firmly to yours.

The kiss was hesitant at first, like neither of you could quite believe it was happening. But as the seconds passed, it deepened, the tentative nature giving way to something more passionate. His hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek as he tilted your head slightly to deepen the angle.

Your fingers curled into the muscles of his toned torso, pulling him closer as his lips moved against yours. His other hand found your waist, the touch gentle but firm as he pulled you flush against him. The heat between you was undeniable now, your breaths mingling as the kiss grew more heated, more desperate.

Your back pressed against the counter as Oikawa crowded closer, one hand braced against the marble to steady himself. The other remained on your waist, his fingers curling slightly as if he were afraid you might pull away.

But you didn’t. If anything, you leaned into him more, your hands moving to tangle in his hair. He let out a soft, almost surprised sound against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening in response.

Time seemed to blur as the kiss turned into a full-blown makeout session, the golden morning light casting everything in a dreamlike glow. The taste of matcha lingered faintly on your lips, but it was quickly forgotten as Oikawa consumed your attention entirely.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting together as you tried to catch your breath.

“Well,” you murmured, your voice slightly breathless, “that… wasn’t in the plan.”

Oikawa let out a soft laugh, his lips curling into a small, lopsided grin. “Yeah, definitely not.”

He kisses you again.

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his. “But you’re not complaining, are you?”

“Not at all,” he admitted, his voice low and warm. “In fact, I think I could get *kiss* used to this.”

Your lips quirked up into a playful smile. “Careful, setter boy. You’re starting to sound smitten.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, surprising even himself with his honesty.

The golden light continued to spill into the room as the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s presence, the rest of the world forgotten for the moment.

Ⓒkiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[shinakazami1]

Transcript of IGN Handsome Jack QnA

This thing doesn't have the whole text but - questions and some of my fav Meg-Jack interactions :^] I tried to write their speech patterns as close as possible

Transcript under the cut:

0:30: Question: Is Buttstallion the best horse ever Jack : Well it’s my horse. That I made her ( <- FACT CHECK: he bought her) out-out of diamonds, so…

0:45 Q: What it’s like wearing a face (mask - though in video it's funnily shown) J: It’s not a mask, it’s a freaking face! Do people think I’m wearing a freaking mask on my face? MEG!! I’m kidding. You’re cute tho. You know what it’s like—do you ever put a onesie on right out of the dryer? (whisper) it’s like that. (normal volume) It’s cosy. It just feels right. And a cool thing about wearing a face is – you can swap them out with however many people you kill in course of an afternoon or a week or whatever. You get off that face – you put on another one! (laughs mid-sentence) It’s fantastic. I can look at whoever. I could look like you Meg if I wanted to. I might later. Wear your face.

1:43 Q: Boxers or briefs? J: Commando!

1:50 Q: What dead celebrity would you bring back? J: Tom Cruise. (learning he is still alive) He’s not dead. Oh. Well-well let’s kill him and then I can bring him back to life or whatever.

2:10 -2:52 (Off top) J: Where did you get these pretzels Meg: From the Hyperion vending machine J: They’re delicious. (long silence) They’re good. (longer) I promise someone will clean it up – my God that’s what happens If you drink beer at lunch, people!

(….) J: Pandorian, people are dumb but loyal. M: I’m loyal sir. I’m very, very very- J: Nah, so much of this. M: Oh yes, sir.

2:15 (Answer 3:25) Q: Do people recognise your voice in public? J: I’m all over the fucking place. I’m in megaphones, I’m in-in like convenience store, vending machines so—yeah. Yeah uh, I have to say. Yeah.

3:48 Q: Favourite type of weapon? J: What do you think, Meg? M: Uhh-anything that kills, sir. J: Well, I would say Hyperion would be a good start, wouldn’t you. M: (louder, nervously) That would be a very good start. J: There you go. Smart… uh. (Awkward horrible silence he prob wanted to say ‘smart girl’ and im glad he didn’t say it cus Jesus Christ man how much cringe can you spout out of your mouth). Anything made by Hyperion and anything that and anything that inflicts, like you said. Fairness to you. The most damage possible.

4:09 Q: (person wanted a greeting for her cat Tunses) J: Hey Tunses.

4:30 Q: Which Vault Hunter do you hate the least and which the most? J: I try not to play favourites. I hate them all the same. M: They’re all pretty terribl- J: (growling) They’re all equally hateable. M: They’re all pretty terrible. (you go girl say your lines) J: Each and every one of them. M: They all want to kill you, sir. J: God I hate them so much.

(Off top) J: (soft laugh) I enjoy your company M: You would make a great voice actor, sir. J: You know I’ve heard that! Yeah yeah yeah – people tell me sh# t all the time. You know. Like : , uh- I (chuckles) get that you, babe- M: You can cook, sir?! J: I- uh, um, I, uh – yeah. I'm really quite handy in the kitchen. M: Yeah? J: Yeah. M: What do you like to make sir. J: I find it- I find it z-zens me out after coming home and washing all the blood out of my clothes.

5:25 Q: Why are you so perfect? J: I don’t know, ask my mom. (pause) You can’t – you can’t because she’s dead, I killed her – but if she was alive, you could ask my mom.

(offtop) J: (playing the game) Where is my oxygen level? M: So, your oxygen level isssss – where the hell is it? J; Come on Meg – I cannot with your (Meg breaks out laughing) you stupid little sh#t like this (they both laugh) and you’re letting me dooown. M: Oh my God I’m the worst!! J: No it’s right over (chin upfront sounding voice idk how else to call him becoming a goblin) it’s right over there, did your little brain fall out of your head, Meg? M: Sorry, should be on your map. J: (genuine soft sounding) Why am I so mean to you? M: I don’t know, sir. J: (still soft, but cool persona) AAA that’s cus of what- that’s what I do.

J: How does Handsome Jack butt slam? M: I think youuuu- J: Anyway he likes (laughs) M: (chuckles) Yes, yes, exactly- J: Joke right there. Welcome

(…) J: That’s what the hip kid say. Instead of , they say (he becomes sonic and laughs like him). Did you know that? M: No, sir J: Yeah. That’s what they do.

(…) M: (after Jack killed a few monsters) Good job! J: Thank you Meg! Thank you for being such a loyal supporter. M: Absolutely sir: J: Really appreciate you, Meg. M: You do sir??? J: Claptrap (HEEEELP THE TIMING??? WHY DOES HE SAY THIS) M: That’s great. Oh- J: I appreciate you Claptrap.

(…) J: Gotta get some things- M: Yes. J: Gotta get some uh- hopefully some grenades. I love- I love the grenades! I got to say, I’m a huge fan (starts chuckling) blowing sh#t up.

7:25 Q: Is Handsome Jack happy? J: (laughs) That’s a great question. It’s deep, isn’t it? Um, there’s a lot of smiling going on here (chuckle) but really, I’m dead inside. It seems like everything I say has just a weird connotation to it. Some kind of inappropriate connotation to it. (sincere) Did you- did you ever noticed that? M: No, sir. J: Good answer! (laughs)

(Offtop) J: Ah for f#ck sake (kills a skag) M: That’s where you’re supposed to go. J: That’s – so I got to go outside. M: Yeah, you have to go outside. J: So you were right. Before. First time for everything, Claptrap. M: Yes. Yes sir. J: Yes siiiir.

(…) M: You’re doing great, sir. J: Atta girl. (pause) I got- I got to stop saying that. (laughs) Okay (nervous chuckles continue) M: And you got another badass rank so you can use that as well. J: Oh, okay – that’s see- now that is some useful information. M: (joyful and surprised) Really?? J: Yeah!

(…) J: (Asks about a game feature. Ben, someone out of the mic, answers before Meg in a monotone voice) Why is Ben so much smarter than you. Ummm- (nervous chuckle turning into silent cry-laugh between Meg and him) M: I’m doing my best sir. J: Ay-ay.

(…) J: What the f that just happened here. That just- I just picked that and now I can-okay. M: You have- you have- you have multiple. So it-do-does it— J: Oh, you’re God, how do you make so much sense when you say things. (…) J: (talking about enemy name pronounciation) Had to do an r-roll with that criiiticic crrrretin (??? im sorry I cant hear it well 9:15 pls help ) M: That’s very – that’s very fancy, sir. J: Mmm. You know what I am? M: What are you? J: I’m so fancy. M: You’re- J: I’m schmancy. (Meg snickers) You cut that one out too, Ben. That was- that was some bullsh#t (laughs) M: You’re so fancy, we already know.

(…) J: (About game dialogue) I don’t know who that is but I find them (emphasis) extrrrRRREMELY annoying. M: Oh they are the Vault Hunters si- J: (immediately) God they’re f#cking annoying, aren’t they. M: They are really, really annoyin- J: I feel like they’re trying too hard, that’s the thing. That’s the thing that’s standing out for me here. M: Yes, I think you should kill them. J: It’s one thing to be naturally funny and then there’s another – it’s another thing to- to be like – you know what I mean like – put yourself out there too much, feel like you’re overcompensating is the world I’m looking for. M: Don’t think you have to worry about that at all. J: (smooth convo swap) You know what I’m liking the most about this game? M: What do you like- J: The lack of Claptrap. M: Oh-uh, well, he is, he’s in here, if you want to- J: Listen, that’s fine – I’m in a good mood run right now, you don’t have to ruin it byyy talking about how I’m going to run into Claptrap. M: (silence) Okay sir. I’ll be quiet, sir. (pause) Yes. (pause) OH!! There’s Claptrap (in-game) Claptrap: HELLOOO- J: Oh you little son of a b#tch. Welcome to the pit of pseudo-solid sorrows, that is some alliteration. That’s a literary term for (long sign) all you people that didn’t finish school. Meg. Arena – of, partially see-through Triumph, the Hippodrome of marginally tangible everything else. (quieter) Do that make any sense to you? M: (joyful) No sir.

(…) Axton (in-game): Is it going to be a LONG story? Gaige (in-game): Yeah, just give us the Bluff’s Notes. J: (Jack is mimicking Axton’s voice) Wait, is it going to be a loooooong story? M: Yeah, they just keep talking- J: Axton is a handsome guy. M: Kinda looks like you sir- J: A little TOO handsome, if you ask me. M: He’s not as handsome as you. J: Well- I mean (chuckles) good luck with that, right. M: I mean, he might sort of be but- J: Oi! (pause) Slow your roll, sister. All right – wait, I was too busy talking, cus I love the sound of my own voice, now the f#ck am I doing? Am I loaded for bear? (Meg is trying to talk) Oh wait- M: I feel you are. No, you’re full (on amo), oh- J: Oh yeah, okay. That’s what she said. (immediately quickly nervously) Joking there. Okay if you want to, TAKE IT MAG feel free take it. M: No, that’s- J: (forceful) TAKE the joke, MAAG. M: I-I- J: Take the joke or you’re fired, Mag – or wait actually – take the joke or I’ll set you on fire, Meg. M: (playful) That’s what she said, yeah? J: God it just-it just sounds so much better coming from you for some reason.

(…) J: I think living on the moon would kind of suck. M: Why? J: I mean uh- I mean if you had to run like this all the time, you’d think it would be more advantageous or better than uhh, running –uh, say with like, uh, gravity? M: (smacks lips) Yeah, but you can do- J: Yeah but gravity Meg, is something it’s-it’s a force of energy that keeps the- it’s the Earth and the moon create, and it keeps things on the… neverm- ff, M: That was a great explanation, sir. J: (defeated) That’s fine. M: I have no idea what the hell you just said. J: (chuckles) It’s really – it was really scientific, wasn’t it? - M: It’s a thing! J: It’s a thing with the… M: I think it’s a good place to wrap this up.

(….) J: You want to do another-another thing? M: Uhh, I don’t, I don’t think we have time to do another thing, sir. J: Is that because I’m so busy and important that I have to go do stuff that is, I have people to do, and places to see- M: You’re- J: Places to see and people- I mean, places to go, people to see, things to do. M: All that. J: Yeah. M: All that more. J: Correct (laugh) Well listen, kids, first of all – you’re welcome, because this has been a real treat. Sorry about- what was your name again? M: Meg. J: Yeah, she tries real hard but uhh- let’s face it. Uhhh I don’t know. We will see. M: Thanks. J: You still might get a retirement package out of this. M: Oh- that’s great. That’s uhh- J: But it’s been a lot of fun, will go to build homeless shelters, and, (pause and rapid speech) dig wells. M: In Africa. J: Yep. M: And by Africa, we mean Africa on Pandora. J: (giggle) Yes.

[woodle-isbae]

Hi! I’m a huge fan from ages and I have a request, if you’re comfortable ofc!

So could you do male reader (top) x Joost (bottom) smut, where reader get jealous at a party cause this girl flirts with Joost and Joost says it’s nothing so reader slowly works Joost up during the night to the point that he is really needy and kinda desperate for his touch. Reader then takes him into the bathroom and proves who’s in charge. (sorry if that sounds weird)

Please and thank you (I love your work sm, don’t stop 🙏🙏🙏)

🎐anon

You entered the costume Party with your Boyfriend , Joost , him dressed as a man in black and you as a vampire

The party alive and wild , with people playing crazy beer games and couples all up on eachother in the corners of the house

"I'm gonna go get us drinks..be right back"

He hummed in confirmation, allowing you to dissapear off into the dimly light house.

You were mixing up some drinks all together for you and Joost until a softer voice came up behind you.

"Your gonna drink all those by yourself?"

It was some chick dressed up as an angel , the extremely short pink dress and white wedge heels.

"Uh..nah I'm drinking these with my..uh friend"

She giggled at what you said , mabye it because you were awkward about it or the fact you said it in a dumb vampire accent

"Your really hot...you got a girl?"

"Well-kinda?"

"Would she mind?"

You were kinda taken aback by her boldness , she really expects you to cheat on your partner for some one night stand? Jeez.

"Well-I have to go-"

You couldn't even bother to give her a smile or anything , wasting no time to get lost in the crowded living room. Trying your best to find some platinum blond hair in the wave of bodies before you.

In the corner of your eye you saw your boyfriend laughing with some blond girl , not being able to tell what they're talking about but it seems entertaining.

Just as you began walking towards them, they began walking to the dance floor , dancing all up on eachother. Placing the drinks down on the table before you pushed through people to get to them , throwing your arm over his shoulder

"Exuse-"

"Who do we have here?"

You looked over at the girl and it was the same chick from the drink table. She moves on fast. Turning back to face your boyfriend who was avoiding your gaze

"You wouldn't mind if I stole him huh? Great ,thanks."

Not even giving her a chance to speak before you pulled him away from the dance floor , shoving him into some seat.

"Fuck around and find out"

"Wha- what do you mean?"

You simply shrugged at his question, helping him get up from the seat before brushing your hand behind his neck , face being dangerously close to his collar bone. Moving away from him with a cheeky smile as he was about to grip onto you.

This continued on for the rest of the night, constantly sending him lingering touches and being all up against him. He was ready to explode by the time you let your touch linger longer than the rest.

. . .

"Where are you taking me?"

"I fucking need you."

You held back a chuckle , for his sake , allowing him to shove you into the bathroom. Locking it with haste before he turned over to face you , his outfit was absolutely ruined , his tie sitting loose and shirt slightly unbuttoned.

"Your a mess"

"I wonder why."

"Watch your tone."

Sloppily making out with him against the bathroom counter , clothes flimsely being removed before Joost stood before you , only in his Vest and briefs. Wasting no time to unbuckle your belt and drop your pants , boxers following suite

"Fuck prep , just do it."

Taken aback by his need , you allowed it. Turning him over to face the sink mirror , staring him in the eye as you entered him, shockingly easy to get in but obviously not with full prep.

"R'you sure?"

"Fuck- yes! I'm sure."

The desperation in his face evident as he bucked his hips back into you, your own following the steady rhythm. In a blink of an eye the taller man beneath you was ruined , face pressed into the sink and hands held behind his back.

"This what happens when you try f'king around."

Your anger proven in the harsh thrusts and grit of your teeth , the way you shoved his face down and held his hand with the other hand. Hips not giving out the slightest.

"Flaunting around , y'tryna fuck someone?"

Pulling his head up by his hair , forcing him to look at you both in the mirror. The sly smirk on your face enhanced by the dark red contacts and the dimly lit bathroom. His face red and covered in tears , moans choking out of his puffy red lips

"They know you liked to get fucked? Like some whore , always wanting me..even at parties"

"N-no! -fuck- I won't do it again-pleasepleaseplease-!"

His voice cracking , barely being able to form a full sentance , too fucked out to even thunk about what you said , all the things he did earlier in the night far from his worries

"You can cum , you deserve it after all huh? Say it."

You were also nearing your end , unable to hold back anymore but still wanting to torture him a little bit more.

"I- fuck - I deserve it...I deserve to cum"

Those words were all you needed to hear , letting go of his hands and turning him over , kissing him as he came all over your torso.

A few more pumps and you pulled out , gasping out as you came in between his legs , coating his inner thighs with your cum.

After cleaning up and getting redressed you both left the bathroom separately, Joost heading over to some corner of the house to regain his composure while you went to get some drinks.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

Blood

Tags/warnings: lingerie kink, unprotected anal sex, little bit of fluff. Written based on a prompt from @murdock-and-the-sea for @frattweek ! 😀 "Would Frankie like it if Matt surprised him by wearing lace boxer briefs? 👀"

Sorry for any mistakes.

It hadn't got past Frank that there was something off that evening on patrol, but he couldn't put a finger on what exactly it was. The devil was out in full force, and even though he was always non-lethal in his means, Matt was taking no prisoners… and what surprised Frank more was even when he was kicking criminal ass and doing his adorable little backflips he was also flirting shamelessly with him. In front of people. Well, assholes.

When the streets quietened and the sirens faded, all that was left were him and Frank, both standing on a rooftop marked in blood. Matt's chest and shoulders heaved as he panted, his lip curling with a slight snarl as he roughly pulled the cowl from his face as if it was hindering him. Frank still kept his distance as Matt tilted his head to the side in that imitable way, licking his tongue over his lips like he was scoping out prey. It wasn't something Frank disliked, in fact it excited him, but it was something he'd only tolerate from a scarce few.

“‘The hell's got your panties all in a bunch?” He asks, wiping some of the blood away from his nose.

“Funny you should say that.” Matt's lips are slightly parted, breath puffing past them from prior exertion. His lips twist into a smirk.

“Come and get me.”

Frank snorts. “Say that again, altar boy?”

He's already game for this challenge. After the night of relentless teasing he would love nothing more than to shut that damn sweet mouth up with his own, and yeah, maybe some other things.

Matt throws his helmet off to the side, rolling his shoulders. “Get. Me.” he growls, and suddenly Frank is like a coiled spring bursting forward, lunging towards him as the devil takes off leaping across to the next roof.

It's not long in the frantic chase until Frank realises he's being led back towards home, and when he thunders down the stairs (discarded helmet in hand) his infuriatingly hot target is ready and waiting, leaning up against the kitchen counter looking smug.

“You getting slow, Frank?”

Frank chuckles as he moves closer. “Nah, just pickin’ up after you as usual.” He says, casually throwing the helmet onto the couch.

“Well, that meant you didn't get me.” Matt taunts. He slides a hand along the counter, smoothly pivoting on his feet to turn and stick his ass out in Frank's direction.

“Oh,” Frank says flatly, clamping his hands firmly around Matt's hips, “I think I've got you now.” He purrs low, his chin wedged into the crook of Matt's neck like it belongs there. “So what's with you tonight, huh? You're all… riled up ‘bout somethin'.”

With Frank's scruff scratching his skin and his warm breath tickling at his ear, Matt's quickly ripping off his gloves so he can reach back and feel the heat of the other man right under his fingertips. “Can’t I just be riled up about you?”

Frank runs his fingers up the front of the blood-red suit, pressing his blunt nails into the fabric over Matt's nipples making him bite back a barely audible moan.

“Hmm, I guess so.”

Frank's hands continue to trace their way to the back of Matt's neck, taking a hold of and dragging down the zipper of his suit as Matt is working on toeing off his boots at the same time.

“Hmm,” Frank hums, his fingers following the line of his spine until he reaches the small of his back, pushing the suit fabric down to free his hands and then halting.

Frank’s brows arch up the highest they've ever gone as he smooths his calloused fingers over something new, the black lace that's covering the familiar curve of Matt's pert ass cheeks and the tops of his thick thighs. A pretty package all wrapped up… just for him.

“W-wha-where'd you get these?” he manages to stammer out.

These ‘invitations’ came often from Matt, subtle and some not so subtle hints that would regularly make Frank lose his goddamn mind, and that usually resulted in Matt reduced to a satisfied, messy wreck.

Matt arches his back a little more, pushing into Frank's currently far too gentle touch. “Does it matter?”

He's right, Frank is far too busy enjoying the feel and look of it all to care about details. Tracing the patterns that stretch over his private domain.

“Guess not…”

Frank yanks the rest of the suit down to Matt's ankles, bunching it there and rendering him temporarily immobile. He lifts his hand away before swiftly smacking it down sharply on Matt's perfect ass making him hiss out.

“Fuck!”

“Ain't you just full of surprises. That too hard for ya, sweetheart?”

Matt chuckles then, shaking his head back and forth. He's trapped, right where he wants to be. “Not even close.”

Frank swiftly reaches around, cupping the bulge of Matt's obvious erection that strains hard against the soft lace. A grin splits his face as a slight whine escapes Matt's throat..

“Liar.”

He hoists him easily over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, striding purposefully to the bedroom, throwing him down on the mattress and hastily stripping the rest of that dumb red suit off as well as his own clothing. The lacey shorts are the trigger that turns Frank into an animal, mounting the Devil of Hell's Kitchen like a predator toying with his prey.

He wrecks them completely, ripping them apart with his teeth and hands, tongue thrusting through the tear and teasing that tight little furl of muscle revealed to him. Frank takes him apart, roughly eating Matt out until he's almost screaming from the intensity of stimulation. Matt feels like he's going to combust, tears soaking into the pillow from the relentless prodding and lapping of Frank's tongue, the hot burn of his beard against his sensitive skin, and the possessive grip of his strong hands as they spread his ass cheeks open until Matt's cock twitches and drools all over the remnants of black lace underneath him.

He's a picture. Skin flushed pink, hair mussed as he lays on his front with his head turned to the side, breathing shallow and fast. He can sense the tension and power in the muscles of Frank's shoulders as he moves. Matt briefly battles with letting his own body go lax and submissive like he needs to, and being a contrary sonofabitch and fighting this.

“I got you, I got you…” Frank repeats, pulling Matt's hips back gently and it's the truth, he has him, he's all Frank's and whatever he wants to do with him. Giving in makes Matt feel so untethered, but despite how far gone he is already, Matt is still in tune with his surroundings, and his surroundings are Frank. He smells him, clean even underneath the blood and the new sheen of salt sweat that's just starting to break over his brow and chest. He feels him warm, warmer still as he returns from reaching to the bedside cabinet for something. He knows it's the lube and yet there's something else missing, something he can't smell that causes Matt to groan in absolute anticipation.

He relishes in the soothing sting of cool lube before the hot press of the other man's cock head slowly stretches him open, filling him so full his eyes roll back into his head. It's raw and bare, no barriers between them. Frank wants to make him feel every single element of him, and Matt is so weak and willing for it.

The sure, slow and steady motion of Frank's hips rolling into him kicks up pleasurable embers around the base of Matt's spine into hot sparks that seem to set every other part of him ablaze in turn like a wildfire through the underbrush.

“Oh god, you're too much- god, I can't, I-”

Frank softly curls over his back in answer, one arm sliding around under Matt's chest to lift him slightly. “Shh-shh,” his own voice is starting to strain. “Told ya I got you…”

Frank observes the beauty in the shifting and firming of Matt's back and arms muscles, the thick raised veins in his forearms as his hands splay out and claw into the sheets trying to grab an anchor somewhere.

If Matt could even speak he'd swear their very atoms were merging, that you couldn't tell where he ended and Frank began.

When Frank pulls him up flush with Matt's back against his broad chest, skin to skin, he's close. Frank's thick cock is hitting a new angle of ecstasy, heavy balls pounding against him in a maddening rhythm, his own drawn up tight, ready for release at any moment.

One of Frank's big paws is still wrapped firm around him, the fingers sneaking up and making his body shudder as he teasingly circles a nipple. The other is curling around his neck, thick fingers exerting just enough pressure for Matt to continue to communicate his want in needy grunts and moans until Frank knows almost exactly when he's about to break.

Frank kisses his neck, it's more mouthing at his skin than kissing at this point, a gentle scrape of teeth becoming sharper and harder as he starts coming inside him. Matt gasps suddenly, his body jerking in his hold as he feels Frank pulse inside, his fingers digging in as he holds onto him so tightly as he's filling him up with a strangled groan. He doesn't stop, burying his cock so deep, his chin resting in the crook of Matt's neck and watching him cover the remains of those black shorts in drips of thick creamy white.

“Attaboy…” Frank murmurs in encouragement as he slows down, his hot breath in Matt's ear, surprisingly gentle as he's bringing him back from blissful oblivion.

“F- Frank-” Matt mumbles, those beautiful hazel eyes still softly closed. His throat bobs as he swallows, mouth dropping open to speak.

“Just breathe, sweetheart.” Frank husks, as he's gradually softening inside him enough to slip out. He guides Matt to lie down, settling beside him, a hand running through his hair helping him ground again.

“You got me.” Matt says eventually. His body sinking into the mattress, he feels so heavy Iike he could keep on falling through it. He can sense the boyishness of Frank's smile next to him, tracing it with his fingers and returning tenfold.

[ange1sang]

a little to the left

2.6k words, gallavich + brief appearance from liam

; canon compliant/post season 11, domestic gallavich, hurt/comfort, trauma, dissociation, vomiting, gentle mickey milkovich

Most days Ian doesn't notice them. The blanks, the disconnect in his mind, the gaps in his memory like potholes in a road filled with oil slick and rainwater. They've been there since his late adolescence, weaving their way into his consciousness and embedding themselves into the membranes that separate his brain from his skull, so that he's used to them. He doesn't have to notice them, not when he can get by just fine without acknowledging them. But that's only on most days. 

Some days the blanks are deep and pitch black, tripping him up or even swallowing him whole. His mind becomes a black hole, everything in disarray and stretched, twisted, deformed until it's all unrecognisable. His childhood is a jumble of scenes from a movie watched on a drunken night, parts of it covered with lumpy, expired Wite-Out and others blotted with blood, smeared and dirty. The confusion makes his head pound and bile rise in his throat. For the longest time he didn't connect the two things. He's been having depressive episodes since he was seventeen, always accompanied by aches and nausea, and it was easy to lump the blanks and gaps in with everything else the depression brought on.

But he's older now, taking medication and watching his routine so that the depression rarely rears its ugly head anymore, yet the days of darkness, confusion and agony persist. They come when he least expects them, when he has a day full of errands to run with his brother or a day he's promised to spend babysitting his niece or nephew. He goes through the motions the way he's taught himself to do on even the hardest days, but it feels like wading through raw sewage in nothing but his boxers, grime and filth splattered against his thighs and clinging to the inside of his nose. He barely survives it, throwing up everything he eats, sometimes before he can reach a toilet bowl, and crawling into his bed deaf to the worried murmurs of his husband. 

It takes him years of survival, white-knuckled and tense-jawed, before it begins to make even a little sense to him. 

"Hey, Ian."

Liam's voice pulls Ian's attention from the comedy rerun he and a sleepy Mickey are watching on the TV. He looks to where his youngest brother is sitting at their kitchen table, school laptop illuminating his face and an old, chewed-up pen in his hand. 

"What's up?" Ian asks, lifting a hand to run his fingers through Mickey's hair. His husband grunts softly, pressing his face down against Ian's shoulder. Liam takes a breath, hesitating before he speaks again.

"You know the club you worked at?" he asks. Ian feels Mickey tense against him, and has to stroke his thumb against his forehead to keep him from cussing at the kid.

"Yeah, what about it?" Ian asks, trying to keep his voice lighthearted. "You aren't thinking of getting a job there, are you?"

"No," Liam says quickly, grimacing at the suggestion. Ian feels something in his chest relax. "I'm writing a paper on CSA for my psych class - you think it'd be okay if I interview you? Interviews get us extra points."

"CSA?" Ian asks, raising an eyebrow. Liam hesitates again, looking sheepish and guilty all of a sudden. 

"Childhood sexual assault," he clarifies after mulling it over for a long minute. The second the words leave his mouth Mickey lifts his head from Ian's shoulder and glares at the teen.

"Write a paper on those fuckin' drooling dogs or something, man," he says, which would be funny if it weren't for how his jaw clenches once the words have left his mouth. "Leave your family outta that shit, we got enough people lookin' at us like social experiments already."

"Right," Liam mumbles, but his eyes don't move from Ian, who feels his face stiffening like concrete. "Okay, sorry."

"Nah, it's fine," Ian whispers, his voice barely audible even though he tried to speak normally. He turns his head away from his brother, back to the TV. The blue light of the screen suddenly takes on a purple tinge, spotlights moving against the inside of Ian's eyelids and illuminating dark, dirty floors soiled with bodily fluids and pills that had been crushed beneath someone's shoe. His veins throb in his arms, skin suddenly too tight for his flesh, like he's waking up with a bad hangover, dry-mouthed and disoriented.

"Ian."

He feels his lips forming a frown on his face but they don't belong to him, invisible fingers pulling down the corners of his lips to turn him into a sad mime. Mickey's hand, warm and rough cups his cheek. He blinks and the dirty floor disappears, replaced with worried blue eyes and dark, furrowed brows.

"Hey. Baby."

"I'm fine," his reply comes, automatic and without thought, before he even thinks the words. Clearly, this does nothing to soothe Mickey, eyes darting around Ian's face. His thumb rubs Ian's temple, stroking the vein that feels like it's about to burst. "I'm... I'm fine."

Mickey draws in a sharp breath, looking like he's ready to scold him, but he doesn't say anything. He shoots Liam a brief but withering look, before leaning in to kiss Ian's forehead. 

"Okay," he mumbles, and slumps back against the sofa, but not without guiding Ian's head to rest against his shoulder. 

Ian's chest is tight and aching, but he's fine. He's totally fine.

When he wakes up the next morning it's to Mickey yelling from the kitchen.

"Ian! You want coffee?"

He stiffens in their bed, his husband's voice sounding foreign. 

"Ian?"

No, it isn't his husband's voice. It's the name. Ian. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to recall the last time he heard that name, but all his mind can offer are broken, fragmented memories of strangers whispering Curtis or Clayton or Benjamin in his ear, their breath hot against his skin. The familiarity of the names is soothing and torturous all at once, and before he knows what's happening his stomach is squeezing, pushing. He sits up but barely manages to lift his head from his pillow before a stream of weak, beige-green liquid pours from his mouth, puddling on the sheets and dripping down his chin. He stares at the pool of vomit, gears moving in his head like he's looking at an old friend. 

"Hey, man, you want coffee or-"

Mickey's voice stops just as abruptly as his movements, the man standing in the bedroom doorway like a statue. Ian turns his head to look at him, the small movement dizzying, and feels that same squeeze in his stomach. This time he has the foresight to move his hands, catching the little mouthful of hot, caustic stomach acid in his palms. 

"Ian, c'mon, don't do that," Mickey whispers, approaching slowly and taking hold of Ian's wrists. He allows himself to be manoeuvred, watching as the vomit sloshes from his palms and lands on the bed sheets. The name on Mickey's lips makes Ian's skin prickle, and he curls into himself. He's too big for it to really work, but he must have been small enough once. Must have been small enough to fold into himself like an ashen baby bird, all skin and bone and ruffled feathers. He tries to curl into himself further, trying to remember where the instinct comes from, but all he sees is a bottomless pit. Panic curls around his throat like barbed wire. "Come on, you gotta wash your hands. I can help you."

"No, I..." Ian mumbles, his own voice startling him. He stares down at his palms, feeling fabric against his skin. Expensive fabric, yarn woven into fine cotton with 2% spandex, fabric he's never been able to afford, not even on his wedding day, but that he must have touched at some point. Blearily, he looks at Mickey, meets his worried gaze through thick tears that refuse to pour down his cheeks even as he blinks over and over. His breath catches in his throat. "I don't feel right."

"That's okay. I got you," Mickey reassures him. Lips press against his forehead in a sweet kiss. "Come on, babe. It's okay."

Mickey takes his hands, not recoiling or frowning when the still-warm vomit touches his skin. He smiles, soft, small, scared, and helps the redhead stand up. 

"You're fine. I got you," he repeats, and kisses the dense patch of freckles on Ian's shoulder. The touch is familiar, and this time the familiarity is comforting without also being nauseating. He holds on tight to Mickey until their hands are under the running water of their bathroom tap, and as soon as their palms are separated he finds himself leaning into the other man, curling up again, trying to make himself smaller. He can feel Mickey watching him, gauging his condition, taking in his expressions and reaction to every little touch. "You're okay, Ia- baby."

Ian looks up, looks at Mickey's wet lashes when he bites back the name on the tip of his tongue. He doesn't understand why or how, but Mickey always knows what to say and, more importantly, he always knows what not to say. He drags in a deep breath that doesn't really reach his lungs and drops his head so he can hide his face against Mickey's shoulder. Hiding. Even if he can't seem to think of much right now, he knows he's good at hiding.

"Sorry I threw up," he mumbles into Mickey's shoulder, which makes his husband chuckle.

"I've seen you puke before, man," Mickey says. "That fuckin' sushi Debbie made us all eat last year? Playing drinking games with Sandy?"

Ian recognises the memories like the face of a quiet classmate in a yearbook - he can place them in the right environment, but can't picture them doing anything, not even opening their mouth to say 'present' for attendance. He winces, the effort of  trying to pull forth images he knows are there making him dizzy.

"C'mon," Mickey whispers, turning off the tap. "Let's get some breakfast in you. Pepto Bismol with your meds maybe."

"Wait," Ian pleads, not ready to open his eyes and face the world yet. Not when he can't remember his place in it. Again, Mickey takes it in his stride. He pulls Ian into a hug that's firm enough to ground him and gentle enough to remind him that Mickey loves him. The reminder is enough to ease the jelly feeling in his joints just a little, Mickey's thumb moving back and forth against his shoulder blade like it's all he's ever wanted to do, and Ian takes a deep breath. The just-woke-up smell on Mickey, a smell that he knows he's always loved, even if he's never been sure why.

"I love you, man," Mickey murmurs sincerely. Ian relaxes just a little more.

"I love you too."

The day goes by slowly, every bit of it like pulling teeth. He downs his medication and food Mickey gives him even though his stomach twists nervously with each swallow. They watch cartoons on the sofa and Mickey smokes through a pack of cigarettes before dinner, his eyes flicking back and forth between Ian and the TV so often that he must not be getting any of what's on the screen. The vigilance is comforting, a reminder that he really is sitting on their sofa and not just dreaming up the four walls around him, so he doesn't mention it to Mickey. 

By the late afternoon he's falling asleep, tired just from keeping his eyes open and his food down. He lays his head on Mickey's lap, nose pressed into his husband's thigh and shuts his eyes when fingers immediately find their way to his hair, running through his curls and brushing stray hairs from his forehead. 

"You wanna head to the clinic tomorrow, check your meds?" he asks.

"Maybe," is all Ian can muster the energy to say. Mickey hums, thumb rubbing his brow bone.

There's a long pause, long enough that Ian almost falls asleep, before Mickey speaks up again.

"You did good, Ian."

Ian. The name finally sounds familiar again. No bile rises at the sound of it and there's no ache in his chest as he tries to place it. Relief washes over him, icy and overwhelming, and pulls him under. 

The next day he wakes feeling disoriented but not nauseous. His head is on Mickey's chest, his heartbeat steady and reliable where it thumps against his cheek. He takes a deep breath in and lifts a hand to trace a fingertip along the tattoo of his name on his husband's skin, his heart fluttering the same way it used to when they were kids and Mickey would show up at the corner store looking for him. His body feels like his own again, every organ, capillary and freckle back in its rightful place. 

He makes coffee while Mickey sleeps in. He knows after a day like yesterday that Mickey must've been up half the night, watching him sleep as though his next breath might not come, and feels a little guilty at the thought. When he carries two mugs of coffee back to the bedroom and a pack of Oreos pinched between his teeth, Mickey is waiting for him, a smile on his lips.

"Morning, mister," he grumbles, voice sleep-rough in a way that makes Ian giddy. Ian drops the Oreos on the bed and leans in for a kiss, hungry for Mickey's touch more than anything else.

"Good morning," he replies, handing Mickey his mug and settling in next to him.

"You feelin' okay? Wanna hit the clinic after breakfast?" Mickey asks cautiously, watching Ian's expression for any telltale signs that he's hiding something.

"Nah, I'm... I'm okay," Ian mumbles, shrugging. "I don't know what was up yesterday, it was like everything was a few inches to the left or something. I couldn't remember shit."

He looks at Mickey and smiles at the crease between his worried brows. 

"I'm okay now, Mick. Seriously."

Mickey grunts, frowning in a way that lets Ian know he's sorting his thoughts into words that make sense. They're halfway through their coffee before he's ready to speak, but Ian doesn't mind the waiting. He doesn't mind much when it comes to Mickey these days, at least not as much as he claims to.

"Y'know, Svetlana had days like that," he says, slow and unsure. "She'd get pukey and shit, couldn't hold a conversation... It was weird, 'cause she was always so fuckin' headstrong y'know? Seein' you like that..."– Mickey pauses, reaches out to cup Ian's cheek for a moment and rubs his thumb over the freckles on his temple. –"Maybe you should see a shrink, talk about the stuff that happened at the club."

Something clicks in Ian's head at the mention of Svetlana, all of the blanks, disconnects and gaps in his mind making a little more sense now.

"Yeah. Maybe," he sighs, and turns his head to press a kiss to Mickey's palm. "Thanks for not freaking out."

"Anytime," Mickey says with a small, worried smile. Just a couple of years ago Ian would've felt guilty for being the cause of his worry, but he understands it now. They're husbands. They're always going to worry about each other. 

"I love you," he tells Mickey, which earns him one of those shiny-eyed smiles he adores with all his heart. 

"Love you too, Red."

Maybe tomorrow he'll book himself an appointment at the clinic. Today though, all he wants to do is make up for the time he lost yesterday.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I woke up on the weird side of the bed today so, yeah. I don't usually write like this. But change is the spice of life, right? I read this as many times as I could to make sure I got everything. If I missed anything that should say "he", "him" or "Mikey", please let me know! I initially didn't know who I was going to make this about and I may not have caught all of those things. Thanks!!

C/W ::: Mikey (Tok_Rev) x F.reader/roommate, language, pillow licking & sniffing, dirty day-old boxer fucking, masturbation, lip biting (vvv brief mention of blood), oral F->M & M->F, quick deepthroating, anal, fingers->ass, names: slut, whore, little fuck, pet names: good girl, F->begging, "gonna punish you again if you ...", overuse of italics

WC ::: 2,100 (ish)

You walk out of your room, sleep still heavy in your eyes. Mikey is in the kitchen, pouring himself a 2nd cup of coffee. "Hey," you say releasing a big yawn, "pour me one? Please?"

He looks up and smiles at you, taking in your cute, soft body stretching the material of your worn old band shirt. The writing on the front is so illegible that you can't even see who the hell the band was to begin with. It hugs you perfectly, they think.

"Sure." He reaches out to the shelf in front of him and pulls down a cup to fill for you. You're already pulling the creamer from the fridge, probably giving them a fair view of your ass in your cute little panties. If they were looking, that is.

But there's no shame between roommates, no. You're both mature adults who can maintain a platonic relationship with one another.

"Thanks," is all you say as you stir the milky white flavoring into the dark liquid. You take a sip and wince at how hot it is against your tongue. "Fuck, is that a new coffee maker? It's hot as shit. Could have warned me, man."

You start heading back to your room, but then stop. "What uh, what time will you be home today?" It's a seemingly innocuous question. Though it strikes Mikey as odd. You never really ask when he'll be home.

"Why? You gonna have a big party while I'm out?" He jokes.

Blinking at them with a blank stare you fake a laugh. "Ha, yeah. You know me. I'm a party animal. Anyway, when?"

Mikey narrows his eyes, "I dunno. Around 5? Same as always. I gotta run. I'll see you." Hes pick up his backpack and coffee and heads out the door. You hear his bike start and pull out onto the street until it gets so quiet you can no longer could make out its rumble.

Glancing at the clock on the wall above the kitchen table, it's 7:40 AM. You have all day before he comes home. Finishing your coffee, you walk down the hallway and stand in front of his door.

There is a voice screaming in your head about how you need to stop doing this. How it's a complete violation of Mikey's privacy - and not to mention, just pretty fucking disgusting. But you can't.

You can't stop climbing into his bed after he leaves for the day. You can't stop burying your face in his pillow while you rub yourself on his most recently worn pair of boxers. Mikey's scent has far exceeded intoxicating to you by this point. And though you can't even remember how long you've been doing this, you do know that it's been happening for too fucking long.

Lately, you've even caught yourself slipping up. Talking about something you saw in his room that you don't think you were even supposed to be aware of.

There's not a doubt in your mind, you need to stop. But first, you need to be more careful.

However, today is not that day. You turn the knob on his door and help yourself to the bed as if it were your very own. His room still smells of that heavy sleep smell. Morning breath and man sweat and BO. And it doesn't turn you off like it probably should. Nah, it turns you on in the sickest way.

You pull the blanket back and see the outline of his body imprinted on the sheets. It's still warm from when he was there not so long ago. You take your clothes off and lay there, imagining him. Imagining that he is still here, in bed with you. That he is holding you and that he wants to fuck you just as badly as you want to fuck him and not his stuff.

You grab his pillow and shove your nose into it, taking in his scent as close to the source as you could get without swallowing him whole. There's a little splop of drool on his dark gray pillowcase and you lick at it. Anything at this point to have a piece of him inside of you.

You begin to rub your clit. It's already wet and thrumming at the thought of him. Of his smell in your nose, his spit on your tongue. You keen as you get yourself closer and closer to cumming. You can feel it building in your belly, you're getting so close.

Your breaths are coming quicker, your tits are jiggling as you bounce yourself around on your fingers - that will never measure up to what his cock would feel like being fucked into your cunt. You bite your lip and you taste blood, but you don't care.

You cum hard, harder than you have in months. You're moaning his name over and over and over, wishing he was here to fuck you like you want him to. Like you NEED him to.

And you hear the front door as it opens. You hear Mikey's voice call out to you and it all comes crashing down.

"Hey, I forgot something, just ran back to gr-" he says, until he walks into his bedroom. "Y/n, what ... the ... fuck ... are you ... doing?"

You scramble to cover yourself as you try to make up some excuse for why you were in here. But it's too late. You know it is.

"You sick, sick, little fuck."

"I - I - I - I ..." you stutter out, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"The actual fuck do you think you're doing in here? In my bed." Mikey looks at what's between your legs, "and my boxers?"

You get up, pulling on your clothes as quickly as you can. Your hands are shaking and your heart is racing. You don't know what to say or do, so you just leave.

You walk passed him, to go, you feel a hand come down on your ass. "You fucked up, big time. And now? You're gonna fuckin' fix it." He gestures for you to go back to their bed. "Go on. Slut."

You do as you're told, hoping he won't kill you after what you'd just been caught doing. And as you watch Mikey take his clothes off, you realize that this might not be going the way you expected it to. But it might be easier if he did just kill you.

"Knees." He orders.

"What?"

He raises an eyebrow at you, "Fucking. Knees."

You obey and drop to your knees, your face level with his dick. "Suck."

Without saying a word, he opens your mouth and shoves himself in. Mikey grabs the back of your head and pulls you forward, making you gag. And he doesn't care. You deserve it for being such a little slut.

He fucks your mouth, thrusting his hips into your face, slapping his balls against your chin, until he pushes you off. "Up."

You do as you're told. "Face the bed. Bend over."

Again, you do as you're told. You feel him spread your ass and rub his cock against you. You can feel it pulsing between your cheeks. "Please. Please ..." You say softly.

"You don't deserve mercy, you little whore. Unless you're begging for something else? What'd you have in mind, hm? You gonna make this up to me? You fucking pervert."

You can't see it, but Mikey is smiling at your exposed cunt. It's dripping wet and begging to be filled. He spit on his hand and rubbed it on his dick before spitting on his fingers and rubbing it around your asshole.

He pushes two fingers into you, slowly, while rubbing your clit with his other hand. Mikey pumps his fingers in and out of you, stretching you open. You moan and whimper at the feeling of fingers inside of you, at the sensation of being touched like this.

"Fuck me, please. Fuck me. I want to feel you inside of me. I've wanted it for so long." You whimper. You sound so pitiful but can't help yourself.

Mikey laughs at how pathetic you sound. He pulls his fingers out and spreads your ass again. "Beg for it. Beg ... for my cock, slut."

You feel him press the head of his dick against your hole. It's throbbing and you're about ready to explode. "Please! Please fuck me!"

Mikey eases his cock into you slowly. You gasp at the feeling of it stretching you open. It hurts ... but it's so fucking good. He thrusts into you hard and fast, filling you up and fucking you like the little whore you both know you are.

Mikey grunts and moans as he pounds your ass. You can feel him getting close as he pulls out of you and cums all over your back. It drips down between your cheeks and onto the floor. "If you were a good girl, I'd have cum inside of you. But here we are," he whispered against your skin.

He smacks your ass and you feel his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Turn around. Lay down."

You do as you're told and lay down on your back. He climbs on top of you and straddles your hips. "Open." Mikey says, grabbing your jaw.

He spits on your tongue, "Swallow."

You swallow his spit. "Good girl. Now, let's see, ultimately, just how good you can be."

He grabs your tits and squeezes them, pinching your nipples and pulling on them, assaulting your chest, leaving marks and bruises. You moan and arch your back, loving the feeling of his weight on you. The attention he's finally giving you.

Mikey kisses and licks and bites his way down to your pussy and buries his face between your legs. His tongue wandered around on your clit and he put a finger in your pussy, making you squirm.

He pulled back and smiled, "You like that? Don't you, you little slut?"

You nod your head and whimper, "Yes."

Chuckling, he spits on your clit and rubs it with the pad of his thumb. He starts lapping at your cunt so feverishly that it sounds like a dog drinking water from a bowl. Licking and sucking and biting at your clit so dedicatedly that you feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm.

"Please, please, please let me cum. Let me cum," you beg him.

Mikey looks up at you, his face soaked from your juices, "You want to cum? You want me ... to make you cum?"

You nod your head furiously, "Yes, yes, yes."

"Did you not? Earlier, I mean. Because your pussy was pretty fucking wet when I walked in."

You whimper and shake your head, "No, not like this. Not with you."

He smiles, "You're such a little fuck, you know that?"

You furrow your brow as he starts to rub your clit again. He sucks on your tits, making you writhe beneath him. He's biting and nipping at your sensitive skin. It's the most exquisite pain you've ever felt.

"Do you want to cum now, baby girl?" He asks, as he rubs your clit, harder and faster. Faster and harder.

You moan and nod your head, "Y-yeh-hess, please! Please, please."

He smirks at you and stops touching you all at once. "You gonna stop breakin' into my room and fuckin' my dirty clothes?"

The question caught you off guard. Fucking his day-old boxers was the furthest thing from your mind right now. "Wh-wha -"

He starts in rubbing your clit again, even faster and harder than before, "I asked you a fucking question."

"Yes! Yes, I'll stop! I'll ... I promise to stop, Mikey."

He smiles at you and keeps rubbing your clit until you feel that warm, bubbling feeling in your stomach again. "Cum for me, baby girl."

You twist and turn beneath him as you cum. Your pussy clenches around nothing as he keeps rubbing you until you feel like you can't take it anymore.

As you come down, he looks at you and gives you a sly smile. "Good. You wanna be a good girl for me, huh?"

You nod your head. "Yes. Yes. Yes ... I'll be so good for you."

Mikey chuckles, "You better be. Or else."

He gives you a long kiss on the forehead and stands up. "I'm going back to work. Don't do anything stupid. I'll be home in a few hours."

You lay there, naked and spent, unable to even think about doing anything but sleep. "Yes, sir." You say softly.

Mikey walks out of his room and goes back to work, leaving you in a state of blissful exhaustion.

"Wait," you call out, "what if I can't be good for you? What if I just ... can't stop?"

He turns and looks at you, a calm look on his sweet face. "Well, I guess you'll just have to learn your lesson all over again, won't you?"

Taglist ::: @darkstarlight82 @viburnt

[thus-spoke-lo]

cw: NSFW/minors DNI

“I can’t believe you put me up to this.”

You grin as you watch Shanks unbuckle his belt slowly, almost provocatively if you didn’t know better. He raises an eyebrow at you, the beginnings of a blush spreading across his cheeks. Shanks was not an easy man to embarrass by any means—he’d seen it all, heard it all, and, you suspected, done it all—so seeing this warmth in his face that wasn’t just the by-product of too much alcohol felt satisfying beyond compare.

“Tch, you knew I was a gambler, Shanks. You’ve known that since the day you met me.” You lean back in your chair, hands behind your head, biting at your lip as your take in the view from across the table. The bunching muscles of his shoulders, the hardness of his chest, the tightness of his abdomen—he had the build of some ancient god, the kind they dedicated statues to, and here he was standing before you like a mere mortal.

“Well of course, but I didn’t think—”

“What? You didn’t think I was any good?”

“I never doubted you for second, sweetheart.” He unzips his trousers and takes his time sliding them down his lean hips. “I just didn’t expect to be losing my shirt here.”

“And your pants.”

He glowers at you, the devious smile on his lips betraying his feigned irritation. He rests his hand on his hip, letting you take in the full spectacle of his form, giving you a little turn to allow you the privilege of admiring his thick, muscular thighs and the taut curves of his ass, all scarcely contained by his body-hugging boxer briefs. A heat rises in your cheeks as your eyes are drawn to something else—something decidedly more obscene: the outline of his cock is blatantly visible through the thin fabric. The blood starts to drain from your limbs as you find yourself unabashedly staring at it, and you drag your teeth across your lower lip, wondering how it would look rock-hard and slapping against your tongue.

“Do you like what you see?” he asks, his voice low and smooth like expensive whiskey, the kind you could never afford but always wanted to taste.

You clear your throat and gather yourself, quickly averting your sinful gaze. “Well, I certainly have no complaints.”

“You know, this doesn’t feel very fair,” he chuckles as he sits back down at the table. “You’ve got quite a view all for yourself and I, well”—he eyes you, his gaze settling on your chest—“I’m just sitting here with only your pretty face to look at. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Would it make it better if I take something off, too, handsome?” You wiggle your fingers at him. “Maybe one of these rings? Or my bracelet?”

“You’re hilarious, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Plenty.” You shuffle the deck of cards, twirling them between your fingers with ease. “Oh, I know! How about I let you win one? Least I can do is offer you a little show for all your troubles.”

“Nah, I don’t need your pity, honey.” He raps the tabletop with his knuckles. “I’m gonna earn a glimpse of you fair and square, one way or another.”

[griefabyss69]

steddie rated m or e 😈

not gonna be picky but maybe something inspired by this line: “you would forget your underwear”

Mostly because I believe in my heart that you could write something devastatingly sexy about something so very silly. Congrats on 100 followers!!!

Hiiiii~ this is probably still more silly than sexy but they're like, horny about it <3 So I hope you still enjoy!!! Steddie - Rated: M - 1121 Words

(Full thing under the cut!)

contains: One terrible moment of wordplay and Steve pushing Eddie's buttons (sexy)

"Listen," Eddie begins as he turns his back, hands at his waistband. "I know you've got jock socialization, but maybe close your eyes or something."

Steve hears that, and sure, of course he'll do whatever makes him comfortable – but they've changed in front of each other like a hundred times by now. He could literally go out and buy the exact same brand and size of boxers that Eddie wears if he wanted, if wasn't Sunday and the stores weren't closed.

"Alright," he says, turning his back too for added security. "You wearing something lacy tonight?"

It's a joke.

It's only a joke, but Steve thinks if Eddie said yes then he wouldn't be walking out of this room until his jaw was sore and he owed Eddie a new pair of lace underpants.

It gets a reedy laugh out of him though, makes the awkward air between them a little tense in another way, but sadly Eddie squashes his hopes and dreams before he can get too carried away brainstorming how to convince Eddie in a totally no pressure way that he should let Steve put his mouth on his cock.

"Nah, I uh," Eddie laughs, shaky. "There's just… nothing."

Nothing.

Well, that's a hell of a lot sexier than his boxers, that's for fucking sure.

Steve bites his lip, nods in encouragement before he remembers they're not even facing each other, and puts a smile on his face so it comes through in his voice–

"You would forget your underwear," he says, maybe overkill on the teasing but he practically hears the sizzle of Eddie's blush from here. "You get distracted by a sick guitar riff while getting dressed?"

Eddie groans, and it sounds like he finally bites the bullet, his belt clinking as he works his pants off.

The zipper, the denim brushing against itself, against all of Eddie's bare skin, that's a sound that would get Steve to skip his briefs in the morning.

He'd skip everything else too.

"No, you asshole," he says, but he's got a chuckle in his voice and there's the soft rustle of him pulling a pair of Steve's sweats on. "Just a super-duper miscalculated laundry day."

"Ohhh, I see. You got lazy at the wrong time," he continues to tease, and once he's sure Eddie's not all balls-out, he turns to gauge how red he's made him.

It's not as red as he knows he can get, and he seems tense in a specific way, like that time he got a major hard on in the middle of movie night and nothing he did would get rid of it. Steve still thinks about when he had to jerk off in the upstairs bathroom on slow days at work.

"Hey, I'm usually really good at laundry!" Eddie says, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Uh huh," Steve says, just to be a bitch, even though he believes him, doesn't really care about it either way. "Maybe you didn't forget at all."

Eddie scoffs, kicks at his leg.

"I literally just said I didn't forget. I ran out, and didn't think you'd want my dirty underwear in your bed."

Well… he's right about that.

"So thoughtful of you," he says as dryly as possible. "Do you think it would be sexier if you wore lace in those jeans, or was today sexy enough for you?"

He narrows in on the crimson spilling over his skin like someone tipped over a paint bucket, the way his mouth opens a little bit in shock, the way his eyebrows furrow at him with a hunted look.

Steve could hunt him for real, sink his teeth right in, with how crazy it makes him.

"You talk like that in the locker room, Harrington?" Eddie asks, shifting restlessly, and – okay.

Steve's distracted from the last name thing because Eddie's cock swings when he moves, clearly starting to get hard, totally free under the sweatpants.

"Never," he says, eyes locked in, unable to even pretend he's not pushing like a million buttons right now and hoping nothing blows up in his face. "Answer the question."

"Jesus," Eddie mutters, rubbing his hand over his face. "Are you having fun with this?"

Steve looks up long enough to meet his eyes and give him the most sincere nod he can muster up.

"You're the worst," Eddie laughs, gathering his hair up to get it off of his hot neck, before he lets it all drop in a sweep, way too graceful for the condition it's in. "And… I think they'd be two different kinds of sexy, you can't really make them compete."

It's such an unexpected answer and it also makes so much sense. It's like Eddie's thought about it before, and isn't that something.

"So it was sexy? How long were you free balling?" He asks, taking a step closer just to see what Eddie does.

"All day," Eddie's voice doesn't really crack, but it fries, and Steve wants to push right up against him to see what else he can get it to do. "It was… too uh… I just felt kind of exposed."

God.

"Well, if you still feel like that, you can always borrow some shorts," he says, because while he's riding the line, he wants Eddie to have the option to step back behind it. "Or is it different since you're just in my house?"

Eddie blinks rapidly as if he's building a shield with his eyelashes, making some lightspeed decisions that Steve guesses he'll never hear about.

"I'm okay," he says, shifting from one foot to the other in such a subtle movement that if Steve wasn't studying him then he wouldn't notice the purpose of it. "Also these are a lot softer than my jeans."

Steve laughs, even as he watches the outline of Eddie's shaft twitch. He's getting a little harder.

"Your poor cock," he says, drawing up all of his strength so he doesn't offer to soothe it with his mouth. "It needs to get used to it, huh?"

Eddie's mouth does a wry twist, his eyebrows furrowed like he's perplexed, but there's something brewing in his skull that Steve knows he's going to pretend to hate.

"What, like commando training?" He asks, and Steve bites his lip.

That's actually kind of clever. All of Eddie's worst puns are, because that's how they get stuck in Steve's head.

"You're fucking terrible," he sighs, just to give him the reaction he wants.

Eddie beams.

"Nah, I'm incredible," he says, sarcastically flipping his hair in a way that he used to do to make fun of Steve.

Now he just does it all the time like, ironically, or so he says.

"Incredibly terrible, yes."

[toxicbrothel]

carter dreams of sweet pea.

800 words, carter x f!reader

A/N: 🫣 this is joel's fault for doing stuff in front of him. Unedited. *bites fist* too juicy for main.

WARNINGS: I8+, sexual dream - grinding, tension, masturbation

Carter’s sitting on the old sofa in his underwear, gun in hand on top of his thigh. He’s trying not to listen, but it’s too easy to hear you and Joel, and it sounds like you're having a very nice time. He sighs and adjusts his balls through his boxers briefs. It's late, and the day is catching up with him. He begins to nod off.

—-

💤💤 dream 😴 💤

Your silhouette approaches from the kitchen, wearing only a nighty, nips blazing. When your face comes into view, he sees your gaze land between his legs. He inhales sharply and presses his gun against his hardening bulge, forcing himself to look away. But he can still feel your stare.

He clears his throat. “Where’s Joel.”

“Asleep,” you whisper and lean with your back against the wall.

He looks at you. For the first time, he lets his gaze linger and really takes in your form. You slide down the wall and sit with your knees up. Fuck, you're not wearing underwear. His heart races. He adjusts himself and you smile shyly.

If Joel saw this. . .the thought does nothing to ease the throbbing ache in his lap. He takes a deep breath and palms himself. His voice is deep and breathy. “Whatcha doin’ here, sugar?”

You stand up, then suddenly, you're right in front of him. His head tilts back and he relaxes into the sofa, but his heart is pounding. You look down at his lap, and he rests his hands on the sofa, one of them still gripping the gun, out of the way for a better view. You bite your lip, still looking down. He glances down at himself, then back up at you.

You step closer and run your fingers through his hair and your light touch on his scalp feels like heaven. Then his breath hitches - your hands are on his shoulders and your tits are at eye level, poorly covered by your thin nightie. He shakes his head no, just barely. He’s so hard now, straining against his boxer briefs. “Damnit,” he whispers.

You straddle him, planting your warm crotch right on his hard cock, oh fuck. You sit there for a minute, not moving, not talking. He stretches out his arms on the back of the sofa, still holding the gun in one hand, as though to tell himself he's not doing anything. Then your wetness seeps through his boxer briefs. “Jesus,” he mutters. His hips subtly press up into you. “Fuck.”

He wants to gently get you off his lap, but he can't move his arms. He tried lifting you with his pelvis, but me can't muster his full strength and the swell of his clothed cock against your bare cunt only makes it worse. He can't move at all. You slowly rock your hips. He can feel how much precum he's leaking. He can't move, he can't breathe, he opens his mouth and words don't come out. He glances behind you to the kitchen and hall, and his heart races. You lightly grind on him, and you let out an all too familiar sigh.

He closes his eyes and finally catches his breath. He brings one hand to your face, swiping his thumb across your lips.

“Shhhh,” he whispers. Then he looks at the ceiling and back at you. “This ain't right.”

You look down and your eyes go wide as though you're realizing what you're doing. You rest a hand on his bare chest.

When you get off his lap, his free hand lands on his considerable bulge, pressing down for relief. You watch him with watery eyes.

He sighs. He reaches into his boxer briefs but doesn't pull them down. He massages himself with his massive hand straining the fabric. Joel coughs down the hall and Carter's heart jumps to his throat.

-

Carter wakes up sweating, hard as hell, with his hand in his underwear, shaft throbbing madly under his palm. Nah, he can't do this.

But he can't not relieve himself at this point. So instead of you and him, he imagines Joel coming in, shoving you against the wall, and urgently tugging his pants down to free his cock before shoving it into you with a long sigh.

It takes Carter less than 30 seconds to cum on his stomach with a breathy shudder, after the briefest intrusive thought about Joel walking in and deciding you can take them both if you want it that bad.

[becauseimswagman1]

Study Session.

You are an intelligent girl. The second smartest in your class, the first being Mark Lee, so why was he standing outside your door asking for you to tutor him?

“Um, Mark?”

He could only stare at you in your after-school clothes, he’s never seen you in anything other than your uniform.

“Mark? Hello?”, you waved your hand in front of his face, even though you knew he was staring at your exposed legs and braless chest. He coughed and rubbed the back of his neck, face flushing red up to his ears, “Yeah um hi. I was hoping you could help me in advanced chemistry?”

You were confused since he was the first place in the current class rank, but you decided to indulge him anyway, getting a kick out of him staring at you, “Yeah come on in. I would love to help you.”

He stepped in, removed his shoes, and took a look at your house. He honestly didn’t know what to expect from it, but he knew it didn’t matter when he planned to get to your room.

“Are your parents home? I didn’t see either of their cars in the driveway.” “Come on Mark, we both know you didn’t come here on the night my parents weren’t home to get a tutoring session. It’s okay, you can say what you want.”

He could only blush more, “Nah, I really came here to study. I’m not understanding Stoichiometry all too well.”

You only rolled your eyes, “Follow me.” On the walk to your room, you could feel Mark’s eyes staring at your ass. You could only chuckle to yourself.

Mark sat on your bed as you sat in your desk chair in front of him, “Mark, you really came here to study a topic we haven’t even covered in class yet?”

Before he could say something, you continued, “I know what you came here for. Let’s not act like we haven’t been giving each other the eyes or that you weren’t the one that told all your friends you wanted to fuck me,” his eyes grow wide and you chuckle, “Yeah, Hyuck can’t keep a damn secret to save his or your life apparently.”

“So what if I did come over here to have sex?”

“Then strip.”

Mark was taken aback by your straightforwardness but he can only assume that you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you, so he stripped down to his boxer briefs. You bit your lip at his, admittedly unexpected, good body, “I didn’t know you had all that under your endless hoodies.”

He flushed pink and nervously chuckled at you, “I work out with Jeno sometimes. Just to give me something to do whenever I have free time…which is actually often so-”

You cut him off before he could start rambling by standing up and taking off your shorts, “I thought you came here to fuck, not tell me your life outside of school.”

He eyed you in just your underwear and a shirt and bit his lip, his semi-hard-on becoming fully erect, “Uh, right, you’re right. What do you want me to do?”

You wondered if he was a virgin, which wouldn’t be a problem if he was, you’d just want him to tell you straight up, so you asked.

“Are you a virgin?” “No, but I like catering to my partner's needs. Whatever they may be.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his answer. His need to serve his partners matched your need to lead them.

“Lay down then.” You watched as he got comfortable on your bed, a sight you’d love to have more often if tonight went well. Getting on the bed and sitting on this lap, you admitted how good he looked under you, another sight you wanted to cherish. You slid your hand up to his neck, fingers hovering over the pressure points to have him see stars before his actual orgasm, “Can I?”

He nodded his head, but that’s not gonna fly with you, “Use your words before I use your mouth and make you unable to speak.”

You felt his dick jump under you, “You’d like that wouldn’t you? For me to use you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna use you, just in a different way.” you stroked his cheek a little, “Maybe next time I’ll sit on this pretty face.” then moved your hand back to his neck. “Now… can I choke you?”

“Yes.”

You wrapped your hand around his neck firmly and squeezed, just to test how he reacts to it. He lets out a “harder” and it shocks you a bit. Mark being a sub is one thing, but liking choking this much is another. You let your fingers tighten around his neck until you felt his hands gripping your thighs tightly, then you released. He sucks in air and rubs the outside of your thighs with his thumbs, “Fuck. Any longer and I honestly think I would’ve come.”

You got off his lap and got a condom out of your bedroom table drawer. That was all the signal he needed to take his boxers off. He laid back on the bed and watched you take your underwear off. While opening the packet and sliding it on him, his dick twitched in your hands. You thought it was cute that he was sensitive, it made you fantasize about testing just how sensitive he might’ve been.

You slipped your underwear off and got back on top of him positioning yourself so you could slide him inside of you, “You ready?”

When you got no answer, you realized he probably nodded. That just won’t do, you think he would’ve learned by now that you need to hear him, “Words or I get myself off and make you watch.”

“Yeah! Yes, I’m ready.” He gripped your hips to help you balance while you slid down him.

“Shit, if I knew you were packing this then I would’ve made the first move.”

After pausing to adjust, you started to ride him. A little slow at first to find a rhythm, but once you did Mark didn’t know what to do with himself. His small, notable thrusts upward paired with how good he felt inside you had you closer than you’d like to admit.

“You feel so good, Mark.” you rocked your hips faster, chasing the high that approached you. You clenched around him more and more, a sign to him that you were on the edge of release.

“Wait, shit, slow down. I’m gonna come too fast.”

You slowed down enough to just grind against him, “It’s okay Mark,” you leaned down to move his hair off his forehead, “you can come all you want to.”

Sitting back up to resume your pace, Mark could barely handle it. Every time you rose up he could see the way your wetness coated his dick, he could bust at the sight. Every time you dropped back down, the tightness around him felt like he was being suffocated.

He threw his head back, on the verge of losing his mind. “Fuuckk,” his words damn near slurred at how good this felt. His hands gripped your hips tighter as he was about to come, “fuck I’m gonna come.”

“Come on, Mark. Do it.”

The look on his face as he comes is damn near picture-perfect. The muttering of your name, the stuttering of his hips, and the little indents of his fingers against your skin you feel that are gonna bruise has you wanting to see what else you can get out of him.

So you pick up your pace once more, wanting to feel what he feels.

“Oh fuck, I’m too sensitive. Slow down. I’ll come again.”

“You got another in you, don’t you baby? Be a good boy and come again if you want to okay?”

You start to rub your clit at the same speed as your bounces, you’re so close you can taste it.

“I’m close Mark! You’re gonna make me come. Shiiit.”

A few more bounces and you come. Mark also comes again. You almost collapsed on top of him from how surprisingly intense it was. You caught your breath and rolled over next to him. You saw his eyes closed and toes still curled, “Are you okay?” His voice sounded so small when he muttered a “yes”.

You let out a tiny laugh, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” You went into the bathroom and cleaned yourself up, then wet a washcloth for Mark. You could’ve sworn you weren’t gone for even five minutes, but when you got back he was fast asleep.

Slowly wiping him off, you thought he would’ve slept through the whole thing, but when you got to his tip he woke up and spurted a bit more cum out on your hand. You licked it off and he groaned, “Don’t do that. I don’t have the energy to come again.”

“It’s okay. There’s always next time.”

You finished cleaning him off and sat next to him in bed when he started to sit up, “I should probably get going before your parents get back.” “Nah, not only are they not home tonight, but they won’t be back til next week. Tomorrow is Saturday too, so just stay tonight. It shouldn’t hurt right?”

Mark rolled his eyes, “Yeah cause I have no life right?” You sighed, “Yo, it’s not even like that. I was just hoping this wouldn’t be a one time thing.”

You lay down and held your arms open, “Now, come on. You look wrecked." He blushed at your words, he was also hoping you two would continue to do this, “I am not cuddling. Let’s just lay next to each other like you didn’t fuck the shit outta me, okay?”

“Mark, you’ll get your energy back a lot faster with a cuddle and maybe you can fuck me back in the morning.” He perked up at that and happily got in your arms. “You know I could get used to this.” “Cuddles only happen when my partner falls asleep after we fucked.” You were lying, but he didn’t need to know that.

“You’ve done this before?!” his sudden outburst had you looking at him like he was crazy. “Not like I expected you to be inexperienced or really experienced, but done this before in the sense that somebody has fallen asleep afterward with you before?” So, Mark is used to hooking up then immediately leaving? Yeah, that's gonna change.

“I mean, yeah. I’ve only had three other people fall asleep on me. It freaked me out the first time so cuddles became a regular occurrence.” Okay maybe it wasn’t a total lie, but still.

“Wow. Um, so, do I just go to sleep now?” “Yes, you do.” you rubbed his head to help him sleep and soon enough, he was out once again. Softly snoring against your chest. Eventually, sleep found you too.

Maybe this will become a regular thing between the two of you.

[thekinkyleopard]

Late Night Tickle 2

A non-canon Snz Fic Remi x Levi Sequel

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Messyish SnzFet, Smut, Drunk Sex

Author’s Notes: Mmmkay so by popular demand you guys said to allow Geez to pick a prompt and she chose the sequel to Late Night Tickle! Which was originally inspired off a prompt! So here we are hope you all enjoy! 😊 as always @aller-geez owns Remi, and did the cover art.

Description: Based loosely off this prompt with a smutty twist~

“HAHA!! No cause that’s so fucking true!!” Levi could be heard laughing loudly outside the door with a pair of muffled voices. Stumbling into the early morning of 3am was the small cat and his best friend Draeko, and his sister in law, Meeko.

“I know it is!!!” Draeko lazily slid against the other male as they shared their laughter, Meeko giggling along side them but starting to look more at her phone as the leopard struggled with the keys on his snow leopard printed lanyard.

“I had so much fun you guys, we have to do this more often…” Meeko smiled gently at the both of them before she continued “but I def gotta get back home to my partners…” the ginger haired woman winked before bumping Levi with her shoulder. “Have a good night you two!” Waving them off before she turned to walk toward her house on the large property they shared with Levi and Remi.

“Dijuwanna come in and watsh sum tv or you’re free to crash in the guess roomb, Drae,” Levi slurred extensively as he managed to push his front door open after seemingly struggling with the lock. The problem was he never had locked it. So he went to unlock it, but locked it, then had to unlock it. He was drunk. This took about 8 minutes while Drae hummed before shaking his head.

“Nah, Imma have Al come get me, cause Imma convince him to convince Nai into a 3 some tonight…” winking suggestively in the direction of his equally drunken friend, the two of them sharing a look of amusement before tossing into giggles.

“Hmmmm speaking of…yeah just make yourself comfy while you wait for Al, I’m, going to go do just that as well…minus the third party,” they both shared yet another good chuckle as their scuffling feet carried them through the threshold, and the mutt found his way to the couch.

“Word, good luck in there, night Lee!” Draeko threw up a peace symbol with his index and second finger before making himself comfortable, and scrolling through his phone.

“You too, D!” “….Now….wheres that big bad wolf at….” He snickered lustfully under his breath, his feet making light as they tip toed through the home, up the stairs and into the bedroom he shared with his lover, Remi. He eerily started to creak the door open steadily. His thin body slipping through the crack. Once inside he noted, long before entering, it was dark, but also, that Remi was fast asleep in bed, with his breathing at an incredibly audible decibel. Levi knew that sound. He was mouth breathing. Which could only mean one other thing, his lover was feeling a tad bit under the weather, or maybe allergy season, either way he could hear the subtle wheeze behind his exhales.

“Oh my poor lover….” The freckled, drunken man clicked his tongue sadly. ‘I leave for a few hours and suddenly…his immune system crashes…,’ he shakes his head, talking to himself inside the safety of his own head. Least Remi wake up to him having a conversation to himself. Slowly the smaller of the two, began to strip himself of his night time attire, the blazer, the tshirt, the tie…left with just his snow leopard print boxer briefs. He slowly slipped into bed, and instinctively the wolf opened up his limbs and then gracefully trapped his mate inside. Grunting weakly as he did so.

Levi bit his lower lip and tenderly closed his eyes, although, finding it to be a struggle while his head spun a million miles an hour. However, his hands searching and discovering Remi's and threading their fingers lovingly together he couldn't help but feel immediately comforted. His spins subsiding enough to allow him to peacefully close his lids once again. Yet, just when the cat was blissfully slipping away into dream land, he heard a soft, gentle, snuffle coming from behind him. Remi's hot, opened breath ghosting over the sensitive surface of his neck, his body shuddered.

The wolf was still clearly asleep and he was grasping tighter to the leopard while his body suddenly began to twitch, and spasm. His nose tickling, Levi could feel the wolf twisting and stretching his nose to avoid it taking over. He could also hear the shallowness in his breath, and each exhale sent goosebumps down his arms. "R-Rem?" he whispered behind his nerves as he tempted to see if the other was stirring in consciousness.

He wasn't, he didn't answer and the sound of his breathing only got more labored as time passed. "H--...Hih'...." Levi heard from behind him. Could it be? He held his own breath, his cerulean eyes staring into the darkened distance with anticipation. "hh'….!" Remi was fighting against them, pushing his leaking face against Levi’s shoulder, forcibly stretching his nose against the other’s moistening flesh as each second passed. It helped, but it didn’t cure. He snuffled, and continued to keep himself restrained. Until he felt it fighting back against him.

Remi, still not fully conscious or aware of his surroundings, felt as if the leopard next to him in the bed was asleep, and he was struggling to make sure he didn’t disturb the cat. Little to his knowledge that the male was just simply unable to rest in the first place. “H’GXNT!!” Remi shoveled his face into the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, muffling the sound, but putting himself completely on blast. There was no hiding it.

So when the feeling came back with its vengeance, the wolf had to blow the top of his lid completely off. “Huh'GDTS'ue!!” the dark haired man sneezed directly into the crook of the other's neck once more, slickening it with mess and sick. Though half expecting it, half thinking it was a waste of time to wait up for....Levi was startled by the sudden sound echoing in the canals of his hearing organs. Yet, unlike usual, his eyes rolled back and the feeling of the saliva raided areas cooling with each passing second, only brought him closer to sin.

"Bless you baby..." he whispered languidly, before rolling his hips back in a flirtatiously slick fashion. This caused the larger to stir and grunt, his hips instinctively moving to match Levi's motions. His opened maw only produced more hot air that was sending the cat into an almost frozen state of horny paralysis. He couldnt help it with the other at his neck like that.

"—hd'ISCHhh! Hh'iSHH!" Certainly this time the wolf would be awake from the insistent flood of onslaughting sneezes. Levi’s shoulder wet, decorated in the man’s spit and other misc ick he was sure. Typically something like this would make the smaller cringe and immediately wake the wolf from his slumber. Yet, another powerful wave of pleasure rolled through his spine.

“Rem…” he sighed outwardly, now finally turning around to actually face the other whose eyes gently peeped open at the movement of his partner.

“Hn?” He grunted once, looking lazily at his boyfriend in front of him now.

“You sick baby?” Levi asked gently within the darkness of their room.

“Juss…aller…g—hdt’ishhhh!” Now directly into the leopard’s face, leaving the wolf to blush profusely and bringing a corner of the blanket up to wipe off the mess he made. “I’m so sorry…” he winced, almost like he was expecting the other to get mad, but he didn’t. Levi simply giggled and pressed his forehead to the other’s and looked at his lover with hooded eyes.

“S’ok baby…bless you,” kissing the tip of Remi’s leaking nose, before dusting a few strands of hair from in front of his tired emerald eyes. Oh , it was starting to make sense why the other wasn’t cringing and trying to clean himself up immediately.

“You drunk?” Remi asked, smelling the extensively strong scent of alcohol between them.

“Mm’spossible,” he returned with yet another crinkle of his nose and a short snort before wrapping his arms around the other’s strong neck. “I missed you….” Nuzzling the tips of their noses together. Remi couldn’t help but melt under his adorable partner. How is he so extra cute when he’s drunk? The wolf wasted no time, wrapping his arms tightly around the other’s thin waist and pulling him tightly to his chest.

“I love when you’re drunk…sndf,” he snuffled lightly into the side of his mate’s neck again. Levi inhaled sharply, his lips pulling into a careless toothy smile, licking his lips as he felt the other’s chest up against his own.

“I love you!” He giggled kissing the side of Remi’s unsuspecting face, who could only laugh in response, but quickly he found himself under attack. Like a bursting flame through a pipe, he felt the sensation trickle down the base of his nose.

“I love you mo— Hah'ISSchuu!!” At the very least able to crook his head sharply to the left into the direction of the pillow, the sound still loudly audible.

“Bless you, Handsome~” Levi purred leaning over to nip, and lick at the other’s jawline. He pulled himself back enough to bring his thumb up to wipe below the other’s nostrils, swiping away the slickened mess there. Bringing the hand back down to wipe it across their sheets. He could wash those later.

Afterwards, playfully, his hands came up to entangle and thread through the other’s strands of raven hair. Remi shuddered, sniffling loudly afterwards to rid himself of the possible onslaught of slickened ick that was still inside him, despite the other’s help.

“Kitten….you’re playing with fire again…” he warned the small male that he was getting to his limit. Between his partner being half nude pressed up against him, being so sweet and specifically horny for his vulnerable state of being, he was finding it harder to return to his last state of relaxation. He needed Levi and he was getting closer to just taking it.

“I wanna get burned,” the leopard whispered with a huskier undertone than he had previously speaking. The wolf growled low in his chest, his hands around the other’s waist now trickled down to grip aggressively at each of Levi’s rear cheeks.

“Yeah?” Remi questioned the other teasingly, pushing him closer yet again, more or less just bumping their bodies together.

“Yeah,” the white haired male responded with an innocent sparkle behind his diamond eyes while his gaze switched between Remi’s still open breathing maw, and his glossy emerald eyes.

“Aren’t you just— tch’ISSH! iit’shHIEW! Fuck…” trying to remain an air of Dominance, but only being completely and utterly derailed by the explosions of irritant. Truthfully, it wasn’t anything within the usual, it was their first year out in Alaska, and this time of year a particular weed grew on the property. Levi hadn’t realized he made it worse coming home.

“Fuck…” Levi whimpered as he witnessed his suffering partner blast another short series of messy sneezes across their pillows. He bit his lower lip, his eyes lidded and Remi couldnt help but smirk seeing the display of arousal.

“Yeah? You like that?” Bringing a hand up and pushing it under the leopard’s neck, slipping his hand behind the other’s head and taking a gentle fistful of hair, tilting Levi’s skull upward.

“I do..” his thin pierced lips parted with anticipation as he watched Remi’s darkened expression deepen into his own.

“So fuckin naughty…” his nose twitched, Remi swiftly pushed and was suddenly atop the gapping cat, his fist still gripping his hair. “Ready?” His mouth pulled tightly closed as he encouraged his nostrils in a circular motion using centripetal force. Trying to trigger the unwanted pollen inside to slip through the ticklish sensors.

“Ready..?” Slightly confused by the question before he started to eventually realize what he was in for and his eyes widened.

“Open your mouth…H’hih…,” Remi demanded of his smaller partner, struggling against letting it out too soon, his malicious glowing greens making it practically impossible for the cat to deny.

“Re-,” it didn’t mean he wouldn’t try though, was he truly ready to expose himself to be such a slut ? He hesitated, almost sobering up, but the drunken devil inside his head picking at the insistent itch within.

“Open your fucking mouth,” there was no denying the man his request, that was being made extremely clear as the hand in his hair tightened substantially. Remi’s voice threatening and cold.

“Yes sir,” Levi dare not disobey his lover, so, obediently, the leopard opens his mouth and waits patiently as his eyes gaze over to see Remi, indulging while he tickled and tempted his nostrils by stretching and swiveling across his own face.

“H—hH…-h’dtTISHh!!” There it went, a mistral spray of ick and wet came flying at Levi’s open lips. It landed gently onto his flesh what one could assume TV static felt like in small doses. Levi whimpered and his whole body flinched upon impact but, the buldge in his boxers flexed and pushed up against Remi’s. “S’right, eat it, slut,” Remi hissed behind his gritted teeth while he bared down his hips and pushed their clothed lengths together roughly.

Levi shuddered with his entire being, his glossy cerulean eyes rolling in the back of his head as he licked his lips clean of Remi’s mess. “I love watching you lick up my sneezes off your own face,” he smirked shoveling his legs in between Levi’s, who instinctively wrapped them around the eager, still sniffling wolf. His nose and throat vibrating as they tickled deep within his sinuses. Trying his best to overpower the sensations as well as his mate.

Remi sat up a moment enough to bring his hands at the leopard’s boxers, making quick work of them and himself, spitting in the palm of his hand. “Tell me you like being my tissue,” he glared down at the wiggling and whining cat who looked at him with hooded eyes.

“I love it….” The sound was strained and it wasn’t done with enough passion for the wolf’s liking.

“Hm? I can’t hear you…And to whom are you addressing, Kitten? Don’t forget your manners,” Remi clicked his tongue in a condescending manner, tsking the smaller male with slight disappointment, which made Levi whimper in response. The wolf violently ripping their boxers clear off their bodies, taking his hands now and spreading his boyfriend’s ass apart to see his wanting hole puckering at him.

“I love being your tissue, Mister Connors….” It almost came out as a whine, the way it sounded. It went straight into Remi’s cock, hardening the inpatient organ.

“That’s what Daddy likes to hear,” spitting directly now across Levi’s spread open hole, legs pushed up to his delicate sternum. “Keep your mouth open, and your eyes on me—…Hd’IZTSsHHhhh’ih!!” Sliding his thick rod inside of the other, Levi’s dangling against his body, crying out, but meeting his lover’s demands before a waterfall of misted saliva fell down upon his face. “Just like that….HI’DTSCHIEW! -h’dtTISHh!!” As the larger wasted no time burying himself deep inside his lover’s hole, he spread and exposed his allergen attack sneezes across the smaller once more. He cared not where it landed, how it landed, the density….Levi let out a pleased hum, trying not to sound too desperate but his body continued to meld and match with each rough thrust inside himself as he was slickened by his mate.

“Re-Remi….” He gasped with a weakened mewl, reaching his hand down, he waited patiently, open palm in between the two waiting desperately for more of the wolf’s allergen triggered explosions.

“That’s my good—..Hh—hEhTXSSHhh’ih!! ih’TTSSHH!! Boy…” his praise interrupted by another shot of spattering saliva that came cascading across Levi’s bare stomach, but also the hand that was out stretched waiting. Once it was slickened the smaller made quick use, and brought it to his already leaking length. “Yeah baby? Am I making you that horny? SnDfF…” as the male hovered the other, he sniffled obnoxiously, trying to keep himself from dripping snot into his lover’s unsuspecting face. Luckily he could keep it down.

“Yes, Baby…I can’t stand it, you’re gonna make me…fucking cum….” Levi panted between each heavy, and aggressive thrust. It was almost enough to send the wolf into a bloody rage but he swallowed the pools that collected under his tongue. Knowing he’d get stuck with the cleanup. Instead, he drilled his cock into Levi’s tightening hole, all the while he could feel the younger getting closer to his limit.

“I can feel you….kitten…you’re getting so close aren’t you? —‘izTSHH!!” That one sneaking up from behind him as it took him by complete surprise, and Levi as well. The sneeze splashed the leopard across his unsuspecting features, and between the rough strokes, relentless usage, and assault of his prostate the cat was just unsuited for holding out any longer. He came hard over his stomach while the wolf shoved his hands down onto each side of Levi’s head, hooking himself forward and in as he rushed to his own orgasm, trying to follow closely behind the leopard.

“Fuuuuuckking shit….Remi…” He whined under a clenched jaw, his claws ripping the sheets underneath his grasp, and his other hand milking his spraying length. “Please.. baby…please I want to feel you fill me….” He sounded anguished as his hips continued their motions of meeting each hardened thrust.

“Shit that’s gonna do it….” Remi releases a hot steaming load inside the other’s ass, filling him with his seed. “Riiiiiight there….” He hissed. Shortly after he spent himself inside the cat, they both went limp and Remi collapsed ontop of his sweet boy. Levi wrapping his arms around the man’s strong, sweating shoulders. “I feel so much better…” he whispered breathlessly into Levi’s equally sticky and clammy flesh.

“Good…” Levi couldn’t help but notice he felt a hell of a lot more sober than he had before, and slightly grateful for it because it meant sleep would be much easier to obtain. “Me too….” They both gasped with labored breaths, their hands clasping around forearms, shoulders or necks just to feel grounded in someway. So nobody would float away.

“Sorry to mess you all up right when you get home…” Remi chuckles loosely as he looks up to hopefully meet eye contact with his boyfriend. Levi stretched his neck enough to look down at his mate, smiling back before shrugging without hesitation, he responded quickly.

“It was a benefit to us both, darling, like always,” running his thin fingers through the wolf’s blackened strands.

“I love you,” Remi let out a gentle sigh, exhaling through his mouth, as his nose was still blocked up from his previous fits in the night.

“I love you, more,” Levi giggled from under him, Remi’s head snapped up to look in his mate’s direction and dead in his eyes with the world’s most serious expression.

“Don’t,” he said shortly, followed slowly by a sarcastic toothy grin.

They both laughed together, the sound like wind chimes blowing in the wind, before silence fell amongst them and they wound up crashing in this strange position of the much taller male sleeping half on top of the other’s small body. Content, they still clasped each other’s arms as if forever reaching for one another.

The End 

Author’s Notes: I know it’s kind of shorter than I usually write? But I hope you guys enjoyed it 😭 I know y’all are on a hell boys kick so I hope this isn’t a Remi x Levi P.2 that goes unloved. LOL Expect the AlxKoxNai series next!!!