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prettypinkporkchop · 3 days ago

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Can you do Embry X reader where reader's best friend is dating Embry and reader finally gets to meet him and the pack after 4 months so she goes to the beach where she Mets most of the pack and they just click better then her friend does with them And then shy Claire that doesn't talk to any outsiders tells reader how pretty she is and asks if she can site in readers lap and all the imprints are amazed because of the connection reader has to them already and they only normally feel that connection when it's with another imprint like sister bond but they all thought that Embry had imprinted already until he and her best friend show up late and he imprints on reader. You can choose all the other details

You're putting on your makeup, getting ready for this friendsgiving type thing. Your bestie, Lola, is sitting on your bed.

"Are you excited to meet Embry?" She gushes, typing away on her phone.

"Yes! But I'm nervous about all of the random people there I've never met." You look back at her from your mirror.

She clicks her tongue and waves at hand at you. "I've got you! They aren't scary. I'll be next to you the whole time." She smiles.

"Well, it's strange that they have secrets, and outsiders aren't allowed. It makes me feel intrusive." You reply.

"I asked. They said it's okay!" She giggles.

"Lola?" You turn around and face her.

"Mhm?" She looks up from her phone.

"Do you know their secrets?" You ask.

She awkwardly laughs. "It's tribal stuff." She shrugs and types on her phone again. "It's no big deal."

----

You stand there, staring at him. His eyes stare at you back.

"Alright! Let's go meet everyone else!" Lola grabs your arm and pulls you away. She leans in and whispers in your ear. "Do you think he's nice?"

"Yeah.. he seems like a good guy." You reply.

After you've met everyone, Lola ended up leaving you alone by the fire with a few other girls. It was super easy for you to click with them.

"Yeah! So, I came back home from school and me and Paul fell in love." Rachel giggles.

"You're so pretty! I like you!" Kim touches your arm.

You giggle. "Thank you! I love you three." You look at Kim, Rachel, and Emily.

You feel eyes on you so you look behind you. Standing there, staring is Sam and Embry. Your heart pounds, and you turn back to the girls. You notice they keep looking at each other. A little girl comes up behind Emily.

"Hey Claire!" She lifts her up onto her lap.

You give a small wave to the girl who is looking at you. She tilts her head slightly and then steps down. She walks over to you.

"What's your name?" She asks.

"Y/n! What's yours?" You smile down at her.

"Claire." She smiles and then crawls on your lap.

"Claire, what if she doesn't want you on her lap?" Emily says.

"No! She's okay! I love kids!" You reply and wrap your arms around the girl who's leaning back on you.

"You're very pretty, miss y/n." Claire says.

Your heart melts. "You are, too!" You giggle.

The three women watch you in amazement.

"This is interesting." Kim mumbles to Emily.

---

Since the party, you've been really close with Emily. She has been asking you to come over more often. Lola has expressed that it makes her jealous that they like you more. For some reason, she hasn't even been seeing Embry. She has explained to you that they're having "issues."

But you've met people she hasn't even met! Seth, Leah, Renesmee, and the Cullens. You've only met that family once when you were helping Renesmee pack her stuff to move in with Jake. That family was nice but seemed.. odd.

"Y/n? You're back again?!" Jared laughs while sitting at the table and grabbing a muffin.

"Yup!" You lean back in the chair.

"She's my new buddy." Emily smiles and winks over her shoulder at you. "Where are the other boys?" Emily asks Jared.

He pauses and looks forward. "They are talking to E about L."

You already know it's about Embry and Lola. "Do you know what's going on? Lola tells me everything. She hasn't said anything about this." You ask.

"This is a wicked situation." Jared replies.

"Jared, shut up." Emily hisses.

You begin to worry about your friend. You stand up and grab your stuff. "Sorry, I have to go see Lola."

Emily sighs and sets down the bowl on the counter. "Y/n, it's not a good idea." She says.

"I know her. She hates being alone when she's upset."

You said your goodbyes and drove off to her house. The way there you're thinking of every eye contact you've had with Embry. You feel bad for being attracted to him. You've never flirted or really talked to him. It's just glances. But you have this weird energy whenever you see him.

You make it to her house, and you knock on the door. "Lola!" You call out.

She quickly opens the door and looks over you. She seems fine. She smiles and pulls you into a hug.

You're confused but hug her back. "I thought you were upset." You whisper.

"Why would I be upset with you? Imprinting is nothing they can control." She let's you go and looks over you.

"Huh?" You ask.

"Well, he thought he imprinted on me until he met you. That's okay, though. You will forever be my platonic soulmate." She pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

"The hell are you talking about?" You ask and shut the door behind you.

"Oh, shit. You don't know." She bites her lip and then sits on her couch. "Fuck." She groans and covers her face.

"Lola, what is happening?" You sit beside her.

She lifts her face and looks at you. "They're wolves, y/n. Their tribe legends come from wolves. They shift when there are vampires in town. When they meet their soulmate, they imprint. It's a destined thing. I'm not supposed to tell you, but you're an imprint, so you can know."

You breathe out. Your mind is everywhere. It's beginning to make sense! The tattoos, the crazy strengths, the energy, Renesmee. Oh god.

"W-what... you know, but you're not.." You try to finish your sentence.

"I'll just have to keep my mouth shut." She purses her lips together.

"Lola?" And three knocks are heard at her door.

"Come in!" She calls out.

The door opens, and there stands Embry. He looks over you. He doesn't even acknowledge Lola. Your heart pounds as you eye his muscles and jawline.

"I've already told her everything. I thought she already knew." Lola stands up.

"That's fine.. I'm sorry." Embry finally looks at her.

"Hey, no hard feelings." Lola sticks her hand out for him to shake. "Just take care of my girl." She smiles.

He smiles back and shakes her hand. "Got it."

You stand up and look over the both of them. "This is weird to me. H-how can I even?..." You look over Embry.

He raises an eyebrow.

But Lola knows you so well. She giggles. "No, babes. Don't worry. No sloppy seconds. I didn't lie when I said I am a virgin."

Embry chokes a laugh and then covers his mouth. He then walks outside.

"Dear Lord." You lay your head on her shoulder. "You promise this isn't weird?" You ask.

"Girl, there are wolves and vampires, and you're asking if this is weird?" She wraps her arms around you. "If it were a regular human deal, yeah, I'd be upset." She laughs.

----

You and Lola step out of your car to walk to the beach where both of the packs are. Lola is nervous about meeting Leah because Paul has said shit. He's just so dramatic.

You see Embry in the water, laughing with Quil. You run to him and jump on his back.

He grabs onto your arms and turns his head back to you. "I missed you." He says.

"She literally sees you everyday." Quil laughs.

"Not enough." You look at Quil.

"Have you two even kissed? Been on a first date?" Quil asks.

"Nope. I'm moving my girl's speed." Embry chuckles.

You blush and peck his shoulder. You look at Quil. "There. Kiss." You giggle.

"Good gravy." Quil sighs and swims away.

Embry pulls you off of his back and looks down into your eyes. His hands meet your waist that's in the water, and he smiles. "Are you busy this weekend?" He asks.

You hold his arms and smile up at him. "Yes."

He raises an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

"Going on a date with you." You lean up and gently press your lips to his.

He kisses back and pulls you closer. His lips feel so good with yours. You felt explosions in your stomach. You didn't want to pull away. You'd want to do this forever.

His hands rise up to grab your face. You wrap your arms around his neck. Suddenly, he pulls away and looks at the sand where some of the guys are. He begins to smile.

"What? What is it?" You ask.

"Seth imprinted on Lola."

#twilight #embry call #jacob black #jared cameron #paul lahote #seth clearwater #sam uley #leah clearwater #twilight wolfpack #quil ateara #embry call x reader

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arminsumi · 15 days ago

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Another geto size kink vanilla smut please. I can't get enough. I always go back to reread yours it's so good

Oh, boyfriend Geto Suguru and his petite girl — who he's obsessed with.

+ warnings; size kink, panty-humping, some dirty talk

+ an; omg this was so yum to write, thank you for reminding me that Geto Suguru + a size kink exists 😋💗

Bf!Geto who's got one enormous hand resting on the small of your back during parties, his straight lips twisting into a grin when he looks down at you — a dirty grin that gets you tingly all over. Oh his heart lurches when you crane your neck to look back at him. As he commented when the two of you first met three years ago, "It's cute that you have to put in so much effort to look up at me."

... and pre-bf!Geto who used to randomly whisk you off your feet, big biceps twitching and flexing against your sides, as a 'joke' — yeah, yeah, it was just to surprise you. But he just wanted to have a sweet small girl in his arms, and wanted to show off how strong he was.

Just standing behind him and seeing his big broad back worked your imagination — how d'you think he'd look from the back while driving into your sloppy hole, how his muscles would flex?

And you know, Suguru was always aware each time you were staring even though you thought you were little miss slick, so of course he straightened out his posture — he had to remind you that he hits that 6'3 mark!

Bf!Geto's favorite thing is rubbing his thick fingers up and down your tiny clit through your innocent pink panties, making you shiver and twitch and whine in response to the subtlest friction as he's got you bent over his black-sheeted bed. It makes him smirk, it makes his cock stand stiff and upright in his pants, leaky cockhead dripping precum against his inner thigh.

It's in this bed that bf!Geto loves eating you out — of course, he likes to get you impatient, taking his time tying his hair up until you tug at the hem of his shirt and practically pull him into you for a hot, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss that he just melts into. In minutes he's sliding down, big rough n' calloused hands prying your thighs apart, dragging you closer to his face like you weigh nothing — because you do weigh nothing to a big boy like him.

You're especially reminded of his size kink when he thumbs your pussy lips apart, or when he stuffs his thick fingers inside you, rubbing against your favorite spots like it's just a fun little game for him. Or when he thumbs your actual lips apart to explore your mouth a bit before sliding his fingers in — "Get 'em wet for me, baby." he murmurs, eager to feel your tiny mouth.

Bf!Geto loves squishing his cock against your slit, dividing your soft lips until they sandwich him. Of course, he acts so nonchalant, blowing his hair out of his face as he looks down at the pretty sight of your pussy getting dwarfed by his thick girth.

When his black, sultry eyes drift up to meet yours, you feel your stomach drop and your face heats up.

"Feel me pulsing, baby?" he teases, "Aw, sorry, I didn't mean to make you shy. No, come on, don't be shy — " he giggles, leaning in for a fat kiss. "You're so cute."

As the thick middle of his cock's sliding through your folds, his free hand meets yours and pins it down, holds it tight — did you see that? Did you catch the glimpse of his bicep twitching when he squeezed your hand?

bf!Geto still goes crazy each time you grind your pussy back on his cock as if it's the first time all over again. He lets out a hot breath, presses his cockhead tightly against your hole, and rubs so hard through your thong that he half-fucks it into your gushing pussy. They're totally ruined with gooey cum and sticky juices by the time he's done obsessively rubbing his cock against you.

And bf!Geto loves your tiny thongs, loves pulling them back and letting them snap against your holes when he's got you in reverse cowgirl.

And he just simply loves how much smaller your clothes are. When you and him weren't dating yet, he'd let you wear his big t-shirts or hoodies for sleepovers — only to choke and drool the next morning over the sight of little you in his big clothes.

bf!Geto's got thick, thick muscular thighs that press into the back of your plush, smaller thighs. And his long legs? He loved flirting joking "... I think I'm too tall for you — yeah we'd have a hard time having sex, huh?" long before you and him were dating.

And it's true. It's pretty difficult, getting railed by a 6'3 thick-muscled boy like him — that's why sometimes he just resorts to lifting you and fucking you while standing, weighting you against the wall with his whole body and each thrust of his cock.

#🎵I NEED A BIG BOY GIMMIE A BIG BOY #;D #tw: smut #geto suguru #geto #suguru #geto suguru smut #geto smut #suguru smut #geto x reader #geto x reader smut #suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto x you #suguru geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut

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lxnarphase · 10 months ago

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can i get a uhhhhh smut where reader wont stop running from tojis dick and he has to manhandle them into being still :3 !!!

━━ ❝ take it...real slow ❞

☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, dirty talk, rough sex, husband!toji, toji being whipped for his wife, toji being super sweet but filthy at the time same, toji calls you 'ma' and 'mama'

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : i love love looove the 'don't run away from it' with toji, i have to fight the urge from including it in every single work of mine ❤︎ but have a little blurbie of toji being a big bully that loves his wife who swears she can take the dick as i try to get back into the flow of writing !!

f. toji knows it's big, he knows it so well. he takes him time to prep you each and every time, his thick fingers rubbing slow circles into your clit to build you pleasure, getting you nice and wet. he loves when you keen his name when he slips them inside. groaning when you gush on his fingers.

"fuck, baby, you're drippin'," he murmurs, mouthing at your neck. "all hot and sticky just for me? tsk...had you like this all day, yeah?" when you nod, he just chuckles, kissing right behind your ear. poor thing, having to work all day with your pretty cunt dripping like this. but he knew it was his fault, having woken you up with his mouth glued to your pussy. the feeling of his tongue running through your folds. but of course, he didn't let you cum, no, toji wanted you to be needy for him until you came home.

"you're doin' so good for me, mama. gonna be a good wifey for me and let me give you what you need?"

leaning over you, toji cages you in with his arms, waiting for you to focus on him. "look at me, doll," he gently commands. his hand cups your cheek, giving soft little slaps that have you giggling as you turn to nip at his fingers. "there she is," he so so sweetly coos at you, but that smirk he gives you is mean. "such a pretty little thing, aren't ya?"

pushing up one of your thighs, toji rubs the swollen head of his thick cock against your slick folds, teasing at your entrance. you look so pretty, so cute, all his...but he knows what's going to happen the second he presses into you, and the thought makes him throb. "jus' relax, mama, 'm gonna make it good for you," he hums, pushing his tip into your cunt.

as he pushes deeper, he leans closer to whisper to you, his breathe hot against your ear. "you gonna run from it again, baby? like you always do? or you gonna be good for me this time?" you swear up and down you don't run away, that you take it because you love it, glaring up at him but that defiant look is wiped off your face the instant he feels that you've completely relaxed, sliding aaaall the way in.

"tojiiiiii, y-you can't just push, mn, in like that...you're so mean!"

"mm...nuh uh," he teases, an almost evil grin on his face as you gaped at his childish response. toji can feel that you need him, he knows you just desperately need to be fucked into the mattress...so of course he's gonna give his pretty wife just what she needs.

his hands hold you in place as he thrusts into you with force, a predatory glint in his eyes as he coos your name. he just started and your eyes are already starting to roll back, crying out his name as thanks for finally, finally fucking you like you needed it. each time he pressed in you could feel his hot tip smushing against your cervix.

"always sayin' 'it's too much, it's too much,' but look at you," he mocks, not allowing you to wiggle up the bed and away from him. no, no, you need this, you need it so bad, the way your pussy is sucking him in, milking his cock. this was the best away to make you take it, to have you trapped under him unable to move away from his fat cock abusing your insides.

"nothin' 's too good for ya, mama, nah, you deserve every. fuckin'. inch."

even thought he's got you trapped like this, you still start to move, trying to angle your hips away from each hard thrust into you. "doll," he growls, grabbing your chin to make you look at him. he was actually starting to get sick of it...why wouldn't you be good and take it for him? did you need him to be mean?

"it's like you want me to fuckin' manhandle you t'' stay still. fuckin' slut needs her husband to treat her like a toy?"

one look into your eyes made toji snap. all he could see was that silent answer of 'yes' in your eyes.

"oh. oh. oh, you do, you do, don't you? yeah? ohhh, baby girl, you poor poor thing, just needed your big bad toji t' use you like a fleshlight," he groans, coming down to support himself on his forearms as he began to pound into your messy cunt, laughing breathlessly when you practically sobbed.

"'m not lettin' you run away, mama," toji grunts, his eyes squeezed shut. "mmph, i'm gonna pump this little pussy full of my cum, gonna mark up those insides. yeah, you want that? huh? ooh, i know ya do, pretty thing."

"h-hu-ooh, babyy," you whine, eyes barely focusing on his face. your hands are gripping his hair and you realize now you really can't move away. his subtle repositioning has your hips a little off the bed. he's so deep, he's stretching you do good, you don't know why you'd wanna run away from it, you really don't, it's just too good, you feel like your going to explode--

"look at you now, mama," he praises. "fuck, can't run from it anymore? c'mon, doll, i'm gonna teach you t' take it. mmh, not lettin' you run anymore, gonna teach this pussy t' take every thing i give t' it, baby girl, 'm done lettin' you get away from me."

#toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #🔪 ── toji.#˗ˏˋ ★ lxnarworks .ᐟ

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2-dsimp · 7 months ago

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/—-//——/————————

Smonophillia

/—-//——/————————

(Female reader!)

🔞MDNI🔞

/—-//——/————————

Cw: Overstimulation, excessive creampies, overstimulation, dacryphillia, degradation, praise, begging,

/—-//——/————————

The Dramatic Beggars

“Baby please lemme in there! I promise I’ll make you feel so good! Haah you teasing me? Are you really even asleep right now? Fucking having your slutty pussy suckle on the tip my cock but not letting me in any deeper—Ahn! Darling please make some room for me in that delicious cunt of yours. I’ll die if I can’t cum inside you”

He whimpered pathetically into the crook of your neck deeply inhaling your lovely scent as he rutted desperately against the crease of your ass. Trying to dig his cock deeper inside you whilst you lay there slumbering on peacefully. Unaware that you’re pushing your lover to the brink of insanity as your snatch clamped down harshly on the sensitive mushroom tip of his throbbing cock. Denying him of any further entry inside your welcoming wet heat due to how tight your walls constricted his movements.

The greedy opportunists

“Damn Doll you look so gorgeous when you’re stuffed so full of me. Awe look at you squirming n moaning in your sleep like a whore. Are you having a wet dream about me molding the shape of my dick inside your gummy walls or is my fat cock too much for you? If that’s the case… Don’t worry sweetheart I’ll make sure you get well acquainted with my size. By stretching you out every god damn night with every chance I get my precious little fucktoy”

He chuckled deviously delivering deep long strokes inside your squelching cunt. Making sure to pound his shaft roughly inside of your gooey plump walls hitting that spongey sweet spot that made you cream endlessly on his invading thick dick. That repeatedly ravaged your guts in an effort to make your cunt mold itself in his cocks image. As his fat tip kept kissing the tip of your cervix with every mean pelvic thrust.

The stress fuckers

“Oh fuck yeah that’s the good stuff! You always manage to brighten up my day with your pretty pussy babe. I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to take out all my frustrations and stress from work inside your tight cunt. Fuck! you really know how to treat a man right my sweet baby girl.”

He gushed lovingly as he continued to rub the tip of his cock up and down your puffy pussylips. Licking his lips with a happy go lucky grin as he gently but firmly wrapped his hands around your neck as you slept while he proceeded to ease his long pulsating dick inside your puckered slicked hole. Moaning in satisfaction as he began rocking his hips against your ass. Making sure to bury his long shaft deep inside your sweltering dripping snatch. Using you as he pleased as he fucked away all his earlier frustration and stress from work, abusing your pussy in the most ravenous ways.

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ilsanslut · 11 months ago

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proneboning—it’s HIS favorite position. there’s just something so very tantalizing about pinning you flush to whatever surface he can manage and completely ravishing you beneath him. and you? you love it just as much.

your pretty face pressed deeply into the sheets, leaving you to helplessly writhe and moan beneath the weight of your lover. your tiny fists fisting the sheets, bracing for every powerful, mind-numbing thrust as you feel his thick, heavy cock pounding the deepest depths within you. your shrill moans and pleasured wails becoming muffled by the duvet beneath you as you’re smothered beneath his hardy, masculine frame. you can feel his heavy weight and muscled chest boring down on your back, crushing and pinning you firmly into a mattress in such a delightful way as every one of his powerful, carnal thrusts, aided by gravity and his heft, pounds you further and further into submission—as if every singular one is bellowing MINE, MINE, MINE, from the lewd echos of your bedroom walls.

you can’t catch your breath, you can’t speak, you can’t even think. you’re reduced to a babbling mess, your weeps of sheer ecstasy matching that of your glistening, weeping cunt as it gushes around his thick shaft with every obscene clap of his pelvis PLAP, PLAP, PLAPPING against your bubbly ass.

“yeaah, that’s it.” you can barely make out his gruff voice as his lips press to the shell of your ear, his heavy pants mixing with near-feral growls as he struggles to maintain his own composure.

amidst his unforgiving pace, you feel his muscled forearm snaking around your waist, his meaty palm, and equally thick digits pressing against the fatty part of your lower belly to feel that prominent bulge that forms every time he bottoms out within you. “y’feel me in here too, princess? bullying that pretty womb of yours? haah, fuck. thaaat’s it. sing for me, angel. let me hear that pretty voice of yours.”

so you do. you cry, you shriek, you mewl—“singing” praises of his name, how big his cock is and how good his cock feels inside of you, how you can’t take it because it’s “too much," as well as contradictory pleas of him to slow down followed by depraved cries of “please, please, fuck me harder!”

that’s not good enough for him, though. c’mon, princess. use your dumb little brain. you think he can hear you when you're nose-deep in the sheets? don’t worry, he has a solution for that.

nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of a broad, bulging bicep snaking around your neck, the crease of its forearm and elbow resting tautly against your windpipe as he wrenched your head up from the sheets and began to squeeze. he balled the fist of his other hand and used his strength to pull back the latter, effectively locking you into an unforgiving headlock that made your toes curl and your heightened moans catch in your throat.

“say it again for me, pretty. y’like my fat cock fuckin’ you up? like me using you like the pretty pocket pussy you are? yeah? ngh, shit. c’mon, lighten up, princess, you’re chokin’ my dick here.”

“y-yes! yes, yes, yes! oh, f-fuck yess! m’gonna cum, hah, mpfh! m’gonna cum!!”

he raises himself onto his knees, caging your petite frame in between both of his muscular thighs as he pounds into you with more ferocity than before, like a ravenous predator claiming every ounce of his darling little prey. he was always so, so generous, most of the time. who was he to deny his little angel her precious orgasm?

“do it. c’mon, make a fuckin’ mess on my cock, you dumb slut.” he would snarl against you, his teeth and sharp canines grazing the shell of your ear.

you did so graciously; your moans mixed with babbles of useless speech along the lines of “thank you” and incoherent swears. your glassy eyes spilling with fat globs of tears that rolled down your cheeks could not register their surroundings, nor could your brain register him slamming his cock's head firmly against your squishy insides, pumping you to the brim with his virile seed that threatened to bloat your lil’ tummy.

he let you go in an instant, allowing your exhausted body to fall slack on the sheets before you, your head resting soundly on the crevice of his elbow between his bicep and forearm. he had yet to pull out of you, even after you had come down from your high, and his cock had long since ceased languidly pumping the ropes of his creamy, heavy seed deep inside of you.

“shh, i got you, angel.” he eased your twitchy frame and panting mewls with an affectionate, breathless kiss to your forehead.

“always such a good girl, f’me.”

blue lock: KAISER MICHAEL. SHOEI BAROU. nagi seishiro. KUNIGAMI RENSUKE. itoshi sae. itoshi rin. KARASU TABITO. EGO JINPACHI. otoyo eita. OLIVER AIKU. isagi yoichi. BACHIRA MEGURU. RAICHI JINGO. LORENZO DON. SHIDOU RYUSEI. jujutsu kaisen: nanami kento. GETO SUGURU. kamo choso. FUSHIGURO TOJI. OH MY FUCKING GOD TOJI. SUKUNA. SUKUNA. SUKUNA PLEASE GOD SUKUNA. GOJO SATORU. mahito. HAKARI KINJI. todo aoi. zenin naoya. genshin impact: WRIOTHESLEY. CHILDE. ALHAITHAM. kamisato ayato. ragnvindr diluc. ARATAKI ITTO. tighnari. SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER. HEIZOU. IL DOTTORE. PANTALONE. kimetsu no yaiba: SHINAZUGAWA SANEMI. UZUI TENGEN. rengoku kyojuro. RENGOKU SHINJUROOOO. IGURO OBANAI. KIBUTSUJI MUZAN. akaza. kokoshibo. DOUMA. HANTENGU CLONES. GYUTARO, tokyo revengers: mitsuya takashi. KAWATA NAHOYAAAA. SHIBA TAIJU. BAJI KEISUKE. HANEMIYA KAZUTORA. haitani rindou. HAITANI RAN. RYUGUJI KEN. sano manjiro. SANZU HARUCHIYO. akashi takeomi. imaushi wakasa. TERANO SOUTH. sano sinichiro. HANMA SHUUJI.

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star-crossed-sluts · 6 months ago

Text

Matt Murdock X Chubby!Fem!Reader

Contents: 2.2k words, love confession/discussion, cheeky reader, giggly sex, chubby female reader, slight insecure reader but that's quickly solved, mentions of bullying regarding weight though very brief

Minors DNI

You are responsible for your own media consumption

You've dealt with strange looks all your life. It wasn't surprising their whispers had infiltrated your mind. Often you managed to catch yourself, stopping the thoughts that weren't quite yours. When you first met Matt, the most frequent one was, of course, you could only get a blind man to like you. It was cruel, and you tried to chase it away every time, but there was a small part of you that thought, if only I can keep him from touching me, we can go on like this.

Because you were a fool.

He always grabs your hips first, almost a warning of the devil to come.

“What’re you doing up,” he rumbled against your neck, voice thick with sleep. You're half-sure he’s subconsciously tracking how long you've been away from his arms every night, waking himself when the timer passes your usual bathroom breaks’ duration.

His hands push even further, rubbing your sides until he's gripped two handfuls of your soft stomach. Bare chest plastered against your back, his grip manhandling your hips back to meet his. You used to shy away from his touch, wanting to keep the you from reality separate from the you he's crafted in his mind's eye.

Little hard to feel ashamed of your body when he was rocking his hard-on against your ass.

“You're insatiable, Matthew.”

His groan was pained, like you were terribly twisting his arm instead of letting him fondle you in the kitchenette. “Don't call me Matthew,” he griped, one hand searching for the bottom of your nightshirt. “Reminds me of my priest.”

You leaned into him, a fond smile playing on your lips as he found the edge of your panties, starting to leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Because you’re such an altar boy,” you joked as his fingers trailed the hem, outlining the curve where your leg met your mound. You know the moment he thinks of a retort, because his lips twitch against your pulse.

“Well, I do seem to spend a lot of time on my knees-” He burst into laughter as your elbow came back at him, letting you attack his ribs to distract you from the way his hand explored your upper thigh. “Abuse,” he accused, “attacking a blind man!”

“It’s alright, I know a great lawyer.”

Matt chuckled against the thrumming vein in your neck, his grip on your stomach pulling you tighter against him. “Yeah? You know, my rates are pretty steep, but I think we can come up with some alternative payment.”

“I was talking about Foggy.”

His laugh flew out of him, taken completely off guard, and sent you into manic giggles right along with him, throwing yourself back against his chest to hold you upright. “You're terrible,” he cackled, tugging you to shuffle backwards to the bedroom with him. “Come back to bed, trouble.”

“Oh, don't you start with me,” you faux-threatened, but still gave in and helped him navigate the living room. “You're so much more trouble than I am.”

He pretended to mull it over, hmm-ing and mmm-ing between soft kisses on your neck. “Alright,” he decided, “I'll let you have that one. Y'know, since you obviously need a win right now.”

You hit the mattress, helping each other climb into bed like you hadn't been in months, as opposed to the twenty minutes it took you to make and drink your sleep aid. Only when you were wrapped in each other's arms again did you gush, “oh, yes, obviously. How can I thank you, Matty?”

Who could ever think you were anything but beautiful - that he thought you were anything but stunning - when he got such an eager, bashful grin at the suggestion. When his entire face lit up with a pink hue, as if he hasn't helped himself to your body any chance he got. How long have you lived together, and he still got that cute crinkle in the corners of his eyes with the force of his beaming as he dove for your lips.

“Y'know,” he murmured into your mouth, “I was disappointed when I woke up and you were gone.”

You dragged your hands down his bare back, snapping his waistband with a grin. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he emphasized, like he was offended by the teasing tone you took with him, snapping your underwear. A warning that he was ready to give as good as he got. “It's not nice to leave your boyfriend all alone in bed.”

You hummed, pretending to really consider that as you let him pull you to straddle his hips. He helped you out of your night shirt, tossing the thin fabric aside and letting out a pleased groan as you plastered your chest to his. You dragged your lips softly over his jaw, a smile twitching into place as he chased you, trying to catch a kiss. “Are you saying you think I should make it up to you?”

“I'm saying it's been entirely too long since you've sat on my face.”

A laugh burst from you at that, even as Matt peeled your underwear down your thighs. “Oh, yes, it's already been several days!”

“Exactly: it's been days,” he groaned, offering his hands for you to balance as you tossed around to escape the cotton around your knees, working them down one leg, then the other.

“Next time,” you promised with a soft kiss, nimble fingers working the strings on his pants. “I drank my-”

“Your sleepy girl mocktail?” He grinned like he could feel your embarrassed glare, kissing the pout off your lips. “Can taste it. You added honey tonight?”

“I needed something to make it sweeter,” you huffed. A tap on his hip and he lifted them for you, helping you work his pants off. You couldn't help a smile as his dick slapped his stomach, leaving a smudge of pearly precum on his smooth skin. “You're such an evil man,” you accused, wrapping your fingers around his base to watch the way his hips jerked into your palm. A stroke with your thumb along that thick vein and he leaked another stream, dripping down the side of him and onto your hand. “You're this hard when you've been teasing your poor girlfriend?”

Your hips moved on their own when he slid two thick fingers between his lips, grinding against him as he laved his tongue over the digits. That smug grin you hated to love spread across his face as his wet fingers fit themselves to your slit, one rubbing soft shapes into your clit while the other pressed inside you. “My poor girlfriend,” he mused, “who never gets off on teasing me?”

You shut him up with a kiss, trying to smother his chuckles that told you he knew exactly what you were doing. Still, it didn't stop him from taking advantage, pressing his tongue into your mouth, tasting every inch of you. The bitterness of the tart cherry juice and the sweetness of the honey from your drink dancing on his tongue, disappointingly hiding the taste of you that he's begun to crave. If he pushed deeper, he could almost imagine he found it again, in the back of your throat where nothing could reach but him. Somehow it felt even more intimate than the way you worked each other up with your hands: being the only one to know what you taste like behind the toothpaste and soda you cycled through daily.

Matt's no idiot. He hears the comments you get, feels the stares - sometimes even more than you do. He wished he could find a way to tell you how wrong they were, but how would he even begin? How do you tell someone that when you wake up alone, the first thing you do is listen for where your girlfriend’s gone? That you could sculpt her exactly from how much you touch her, desperate to commit her to memory. How do you tell someone that even without your sight, your every sense is devoted to her?

He supposed he could settle for making you see stars while he figured it out.

You grinned against Matt's lips, a slight giggle falling out, as he rolled you onto your back. You were always tempted to make fun of him for his favorite position, but there was nothing Catholic about the way he took you.

Your hands kept working his cock as he arranged you - hooking your knees over the crooks of his elbows so he could feel your thick thighs pressed against him - to hear him curse under his breath. “Careful,” he warned, kissing his way down the side of your neck, “or we'll be up all night,”

“Mm, is that supposed to discourage me?”

A strained laugh against your tender skin as you gave a particularly harsh tug. “You think you're so cute,” he managed out, trying to sound anything other than reverent.

You shared a chaste kiss as you guided him between your thighs. “I'm adorable,”

“Yes, you are. Arms around my neck, angel.”

You always ended up the same way when one or the other needed some love. Nose to nose, lips glancing off each other like you were shy teenagers again. Your legs over Matt's arms gave him the feeling of holding you completely, letting his hands wander to feel every reaction your body gave him. Your arms around his neck, letting you claw up his back or card through his soft hair, pull his mouth wherever you wanted it.

A match made in heaven.

Matt had long since broken you of your bad habit to muffle yourself, the breathy moan falling unhindered from your lips as he pressed into you like coming home. Your voice rang in the empty bedroom, more beautiful than any song, perfectly accompanied by the slick sounds from your cunt as he started a slow, grinding pace. Your hands clenched and unclenched, scratching the base of his neck as you lost yourselves in each other. Lips connected in passing swipes, sharing a deep kiss and almost separating before diving back in. His fingers traced every curve, dip and fold of your soft skin, reveling in your body the way only a man truly in love could.

The word haunted him until he told you. “Love you,” he managed through heaving breaths, soft and quiet in the privacy of the bed you shared. Then, as if afraid you hadn’t heard him, he said it louder. “I’m in love with you, y’know that?”

“Matty,”

A great big grin spread over his face when you whined, ankles locking together behind him like you thought he’d stop talking if he fucked you deeper. “Why so shy,” he hummed, stealing another wet kiss. “You didn’t know that? I don’t tell you enough?” He felt your feet kick and your lips turn into a pout, laughing at your mini fit.

“‘S different,” you insisted, dragging him back to your lips, only to pull him back once you’ve thought of a defense. “In love is bigger than love.”

It’s a conversation you had in the early stages, when friendship was just barely turning into something more, when you were both stuck dropping hints, hoping the other would make the leap. You didn’t think he remembered until he managed to quote you with his hips pressed into yours. “‘Love is a feeling you can’t control, being in love is a choice- a commitment,’ I know.” He plunged into you as deeply as he could, bringing your lips to his with his palms cupping your round cheeks. He only pulled back when you were both struggling to breathe, searching each other’s air for anything you could get from it. “I,” he enunciated carefully, making sure he left no room for misinterpretation, “am hopelessly in love with you, darling. I choose you every hour of the day. I would choose you in a room of women, I would choose you if you were a worm, and in every other ridiculous scenario that you let keep you up at night.” He heard your lips part as your jaw went slack, smelled the salt of your budding tears as he ranted to you. He pressed a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I know it’s bigger, and you don’t have-”

“I’m in love with you.”

He felt his heart thump in his chest, beating its way out as you dragged him down to your level, smacking a hundred split-second kisses to every inch of his face. “I love you, I am in love with you, I would pick you- I love you so much, Matty!”

He pulled your hips up higher on his lap so he could get closer to you, arms wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest until there wasn’t a breath of air between you. His firm body pressing into your soft one like he could make a home in your chest, let you surround him until you would never have to be apart.

“I hope you realize we’ll definitely be up all night now,”

“I’m not the one who has court tomorrow,”

A giddy laugh smothered in the crook of your neck as his hips started pumping into you again. “You are trouble,”

You pressed your lips to his temple. “Perfect match for you, then.”

“Yes, you are.”

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always-just-red · 21 days ago

Note

Hi!

Can I request a fic where the reader starts realizing they have feelings for Sylus and gets so nervous around him that they can’t resonate anymore?

And Sylus thinks that the reader is scared/disgusted by him again so the reader is forced to confess their feelings to not create a bigger misunderstanding

Thanks!

- 🌻

The moment I got this request I was like HELLO— sunflower anon, you just get me 😌 Anyway! Am back from my break and I hope everyone’s ready for some Vulnerable Sylus™️, because I have got him hot to go!!!

A Gentle Touch

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You really can’t let Sylus into your head this time— he’s living there rent-free already.

Genre: Angst + Fluff (& some Luke and Kieran shenanigans because they were not feeling the angst)

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, injury detail, mentions of possible trauma, humour, some intimacy at the end 😘, Luke and Kieran are having the time of their lives

| Word count: 3.2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

If you asked, Sylus would tell you.

You catch glimpses: dark, sharp flickers of something monstrous, maybe even infernal. Blood, everywhere— thick in your mouth and your nose. All over your hands. You feel it, too: a yearning, so intense, and you couldn’t say whom it belongs to. Then there’s death. Searing white. Bottomless black. In the middle of all of it— crimson eyes like dying stars.

Every time you resonate, it envelops you, is laid out bare before you: a nightmare you’re caught in the centre of but forced to watch from outside. An other, a spectator. It’s a show, just for you, but it isn’t quite ready yet; someone’s still rehearsing their lines.

If you asked, Sylus would let you see it. It’s a power you have over him, a constant, self-sacrificial: you want it? It’s yours. So you don’t ask. You never ask. Like words mumbled in a haze of wine or sleep, you let him hold onto it. His hands are open, yes, but you don’t have to take.

Besides, you have your own, world-changing little secret, and he’s going to see it too.

He’s slumped in front of you, blood sheeting down from two bullet wounds just below his shoulder. He catches his breath— one, two— before he peeks over this desk you’ve overturned for cover. You should be peeking over as well: should be counting your enemies, scouting your next move.

Instead, you’re looking at him and holding back. One minute ago you had no idea where he was, how he was, and it’d been eating away at you from the moment you got separated. Now he’s with you— he found you— and the relief is desperate, gushing; it has to escape somehow. It drips: forbidden daydreams, one after the other, like…

How you want to hold his face and urge him to speak so you can just hear his voice.

How you want to press a hand to his heart and feel the beat of it beneath your palm.

How you want to kiss him, want to taste the blood on his split lip, because this is your story, isn’t it? Messy. Violent. Defiant.

He looks at you, that same blood carving a thin line through the pale of his chin. It drops down onto his silk shirt. “What are you thinking about, kitten?” he grins. His best guess: “This is a fine mess we’ve gotten ourselves into, hmm?”

It’s a fine mess he got you into. “Yeah.” You make yourself look away from him, glancing over the desk to assess how much worse the situation is getting. The answer? Significantly.

Sylus chuckles, drawing your eyes back as he reloads his gun. “Don’t say I never treat you to anything, sweetie.” He fires a few rounds towards the encroaching danger.

Voices go up across the room. Gunshots ring out, louder. Sylus slinks back down, wincing, holding his shoulder, and his fingers turn red. He deftly undoes the first few buttons on his shirt, peeling it back so he can examine his wounds. His jaw clenches; the punctures aren’t closing over fast enough. It’s too much blood, too quick, and he’ll—

He catches you staring. There’s a sheepish sincerity in the way he smiles, as honest and vulnerable as the holes in his shoulder. He holds out his hand. “Time for an energy storm, don’t you think?”

“No,” you snap. “Save your energy. We might need it later.”

“Oh?” An eyebrow perks up in interest, and it’s just like him to spot a double entendre in the midst of all this chaos.

But you’re staring at his chest through his open shirt and you’re such a hypocrite. “Things might get worse,” you explain.

“Worse?” he repeats as bullets fly over your heads, striking the wall across from you and scattering plaster over the floor. He watches it crumble. “Paint me a picture, kitten— what would worse look like?”

Even Rafayel might struggle with that particular creative prompt.

“Come on,” Sylus insists, using the excuse of your silence to push his hand closer to you. “Now’s not the time to play coy.”

“Sylus, I really don’t—”

He grasps your hand, his fingers locking with yours and squeezing tight. Your heart jumps at the touch. It strangles the protests in your throat and stays there, strung up by anticipation and dread.

You’re feeling so much that it takes you too long to realise nothing is happening.

Sylus’s eyes are fixed on your connected palms. He’s squinting, concentrating, and when that doesn’t work— when your hand is paling in the vice of his— he loosens his grip, his thumb feathering over yours as he mumbles a quick: “forgive me.”

He doesn’t let you go. You can still feel him, all of him, imploring to just let him in.

You don’t, and his eyes meet yours, for a moment— like another bullet has bitten through his flesh. Your mouth drops in fake surprise; you’re always so innocent when you pull a trigger on him.

This time, there’s no wound you can push your hands against in a guilty effort to staunch the bleeding. You have to apologise. Have to stitch it up with every word you’ve been guarding, saving, and it isn’t supposed to be like this. “Sylus, it’s not what you think. I—”

Something metal clatters across the floor behind you, bounces like a failing, stuttering heartbeat, then explodes.

…

“Good news, boss! We figured it out!”

Sylus groans, looking up from a report he’s not really been reading as two figures crash into his room. Not good, he thinks, as Kieran flings himself into the nearest armchair. Whatever this is, it’s not good. Luke settles on its arm.

With a sigh, Sylus removes his reading glasses. They stay, hooked on a finger, as he pushes his hair back like he can feel a headache coming on. His eyes flutter closed, and when they open, the twins are both leaning forward, bristling with excitement.

“Ask us,” Luke whispers in a way that makes Sylus think he might not realise he’s speaking out loud.

Another sigh. “What did you figure out?”

Kieran whips out a tired-looking notepad from behind his back. He clears his throat— “ahem!”— then starts to read: “Reasons why Miss Hunter was not able to resonate with you. Number one...”

“How did you find out about—”

“Sshhhh,” Kieran interrupts, putting a finger to where his lips should be. Sylus’s eyes widen in indignation, and Luke comes to his twin’s rescue, silently indicating Mephisto with a few tips of his head. The crow shrinks down on his perch.

“Number one,” Kieran repeats, matter-of-factly. “Your height.”

“My… height?”

Luke nods solemnly as Kieran continues: “humanityandconquer.com/power-dynamics describes tallness as a ‘natural advantage when trying to dominate a smaller individual.’ You are very tall. Try crouching when you speak to Miss Hunter.” He glances over the top of his notepad. “If you approach her at her level, she’ll know you mean no—”

“Nope. Next,” Sylus dismisses, waving his hand in a fast-forward motion. That headache is coming on.

“Reason two,” Kieran acquiesces, gaze falling, “your eyes.”

“Oh, for gods’ sake—”

“They’re red,” the twin pushes on, “and red means danger. In fiction, red eyes are symony—” he stops, spells it out— “synonymous with the supernatural. Vampires especially. Plus, lots of bad stuff is red.” He’s going off-script. “Blood. Fire. Sunburns.”

“Sunburns are pink,” Luke muses.

“No, like, bad sunburns, y’know?”

“Oh right, yeah.” There’s a shrug of agreement.

Sylus’s will to live is hanging by a thread, and they really don’t have a care in the world, do they? It must be nice. “Thank you,” he murmurs, “for your little investigation. If that’s all, I would—”

“Reason three!” Luke chirps, wiggling the same number of fingers, and Sylus’s head lolls back against the sofa.

“Miss Hunter is struggling to separate this version of you from your first impression,” Kieran says.

Sylus looks up. “What?”

Luke is rubbing his hands together eagerly, like they’ve finally gotten to the good stuff. “Well, you remember how you and Miss Hunter met,” his twin explains.

Words won’t do it justice, apparently, because the man begins to act it out. He reaches to grip Luke by the throat and Luke pretends to choke, fingers clawing at the grasp. Then Kieran stands up— throws Luke down into the chair and pins him there with his foot before snatching up his hand.

“See what I mean?” Kieran asks over his shoulder. “I mean, it must have been pretty traumatic. You kinda tore her away from everything she knew. Forced her to use her power, et cetera, et cetera.”

Sylus has gone quiet. He’s vaguely aware that the twins are moving, saying more, but he can’t hear it. He feels sick. Then he feels something different: someone poking at his arm. A hand is waved in front of his face, but he doesn’t react.

“Oh, we so got it,” Luke whispers conspiratorially behind him.

“Hell yeah we did!” Kieran whispers back.

There’s the sound of them high-fiving, and it spurs Sylus into action. He’s up out of his seat, out of their shadows, and then the door as well— long before they can stop him. He needs to breathe. He needs the cold night air and the quiet, and his strides drive him towards it, but not fast enough.

He’s about to use his Evol. To let himself evaporate so he can be whole again somewhere else, somewhere easier, but then he stops. He’s by an open door, glancing in at a decadent living room, where you’re sprawled over a black leather couch. This isn’t easier. This hurts, and it hurts more as he forces himself to close the distance between you.

You’re still asleep. You’ve been unconscious ever since that grenade went off, and it’s for the best, really; getting out of that place was… messy. Sylus’s shoulder still aches, the blood on his shirt now crusty and dark. Some of it’s his. Some of it’s yours.

He’s not sure why he’s still wearing it.

The twins did a pretty good job of patching you up, but— looking over you— he would have done better. It was his role, after all. His duty to you, or maybe just a reason to get close to you. He couldn’t do it today. Couldn’t touch you, no matter how noble the intention. And a little part of him was glad for the excuse; his hands always shake.

A blanket is half on your legs, half on the floor, and Sylus stoops to collect the edge of it. He draws it over your shoulder, adjusting it around your arms— at rest by your face. He’s close, now, and he…

He can’t help himself. When has he ever been able to help himself? He lifts his hand slowly; he wants to kiss you. Even though your blood is still drying on his shirt and it’s all his fault.

…

Someone’s hand is on your face.

The touch draws you back into consciousness, tender, careful, then suddenly sharp. “Ah,” you hiss. “Sylus?” Always first on your mind and your lips.

“Not even close,” quips the shadow above you.

“Kieran?”

“Bingo.”

You use your hand to block some of the room’s light as you open your eyes— a birdlike silhouette taking shape through the gaps in your fingers. “Where’s Sylus?” you ask, teeth clenching as the twin applies a thin strip of surgical tape to a cut on your cheek. “Is he ok?”

“Sheesh, relax. He’s fine,” Kieran tuts, then seems to reconsider, “well…”

“He’s brooding,” chimes a voice from behind you. “Out on the balcony.” Luke.

You rub at your eyes, still drowsy with sleep. “Why’s he brooding? What did you do?”

“Told him he traumatised you,” they speak in unison.

“What?! Why would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true,” Kieran shrugs. “That’s why you and boss couldn’t, you know…” He twinkles his fingers.

Resonate? Ugh. You slide your feet onto the floor, sitting up straight for a solid second before you bury your face in your hands, omitting a few, pained whines. This is such a mess, and it only got worse while you were asleep. First that stupid grenade, now the twins.

A hand pats at your back. “There, there,” Luke soothes.

You turn to glare at him. His hand retreats.

Forget it; you have to find Sylus.

…

You step out onto the balcony, head full of apologies you’ve had all of a minute to prepare, and it isn’t enough. It felt fitting, in the middle of a shootout— everything was allowed to be frantic and from the heart. Here it’s calm, and if you ruin something— break anything— it’s going to be obvious. There’s no other violence to blame.

Sylus must hear you join him, but he doesn’t turn. He’s leant forwards against the rail, one arm folded upon it, the other outstretched: sporting a glass of liquor that hangs from the tips of his fingers and that he swirls gently, his gaze far away.

The twins really weren’t kidding.

“Hey,” you greet, and it’s sort of pathetic, but you don’t know what else to say.

“Hey,” Sylus returns, “are you—” he looks back at you over his shoulder— “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “I mean, the twins are giving me a headache, but that’s, like, standard.”

He smiles back: a courtesy. You’ve seen him grin through almost every type of pain imaginable, but this one is new. Think about what Luke and Kieran said. What he must be thinking. “Sylus, I—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he stops you, turning his body towards you. “Honestly, I’d… rather you didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he chuckles, masking a deeper hurt as he lifts his glass to his lips. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

You are; you hold his gaze as he takes a deliberately slow sip of his drink. He smirks, surrenders at once and admits: “I’m really not that strong, sweetie. That’s why.”

“What if I want to explain?”

The smirk falters, and his eyes make their own, sad, silent confession. If you want to explain? He’ll let you. He’ll stand here, listening patiently while you call him a thing of nightmares. While you break him, bit by tortuous bit, by reminding him just how frightening he is.

He turns back to the view, shrugs, but none of the tension leaves his shoulders. “Go on, then.”

“Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

“You don’t scare me, you know.”

His hand tightens around his glass. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Pity me,” he grimaces. “I don’t need it. I know what I am. I’d just… forgotten what I was to you.”

Your captor. Your monster. Except that was a lifetime ago and he’s been so many more things to you since then. Tell him. “Sylus…”

“I felt it,” he snaps, because your voice is still so reluctant, and he’s going to save you the trouble. “When we tried to resonate, I felt it— your fear— just as deep as it used to be. I heard that same voice in your head, the one saying you wouldn’t let me in, couldn’t let me in, so don’t tell me I don’t scare you, sweetie.” The term of endearment tastes sour, you can tell. “I know how you feel. I know—”

“I like you, Sylus.”

“…What?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. “I like you,” you say again, and your heart is beating too quickly for eloquence, so you just have simplicity. “You don’t scare me at all, Sy. I care about you. A lot.”

Sylus stares at you, his eyes wide. There’s no confidence. No smile or drawn-out breath of relief. He sets his glass aside on the railing, gaze leaving yours for a moment, and you get the feeling he needs that moment as much as he needed the drink itself.

Then he looks at you again. Asks in a way that makes you ache: “do you mean it?”

Look at him. Your throat stings. “Of course I mean it.”

“Say it again.”

“I mean it, Sylus. I care about—”

His lips are on yours and the rest of your words are lost in his mouth. You, you say with the way you kiss him back, soft and slow, like you’re relishing something that might slip away. You, you insist— your hand finding his face, his hair, as he kisses you deeper, and you, you, you, when he doesn’t stop.

“Is this alright?” he murmurs, his fingers around your chin and his thumb tugging at your bottom lip.

“Mmm,” you confirm, equally breathless.

He laughs as he withdraws a little, still caressing your face like you’re something of a dream. “You’re not making this easy, kitten.”

“Worried you might traumatise me again?”

It's a low blow. He scoffs. “Luke and Kieran said—”

“Luke and Kieran once bought arts-and-crafts feathers for Mephisto because they thought the colours would make him, and I quote: more aerodynamic.” You pinch his ear playfully. “I can’t believe you let them get to you.”

“I know,” he groans, lifting your hand so he can press chaste kisses along the line of your knuckles. “Not my finest moment.” He guides your palm to his cheek— leans into it as he leans into an idea. “They said you hated my eyes,” he pouts.

You can’t help giggling. He frowns. “I mean— aww, no,” you scramble, but you’re still laughing. You can’t stop. “Your eyes are… yeah. So pretty.”

“You had to think about it?”

“There were just too many adjectives, y’know? I was struggling to—”

He kisses you again, saving you: crushing your laughter with his own, lightheaded smile. His hand finds yours as his lips move against you, your fingers interlocking as you resonate— chasing an instinct, a need to be impossibly closer— and you let him see everything. Feel everything.

It’s a mad tangle of opposites. Heaven. Hell. Life. Death. You don’t know what any of it means, but it’s yours and it’s his and it doesn’t scare you half as much as it should. Sylus breaks your kiss. He pushes his forehead against your own with a sigh of contentment, and it doesn’t scare him, either.

Savour each second. Think of some better adjectives, while you still have the time.

He’s going to earn every single one.

…

✨Epilogue✨

Inside, staring out through the floor-to-ceiling windows that separate the room from the balcony, Luke and Kieran stand, looking awfully smug.

“Mission accomplished,” Kieran nods, flipping closed his notepad, aptly titled: 101 Ways To Get Boss Laid! (There are only, currently, fifty-two.)

Luke’s arms are folded. “We’re like, the best wingmen ever.”

Kieran is silent. He repeats carefully: “Wingmen. Wingmen.”

The beaks of the crow masks gradually turn to face one-another. There’s a mutual epiphany, and both twins almost fall over laughing.

#🖋rach is actually writing #🌻 anon #sylus x reader #sylus #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #sylus x mc #sylus x you #lads x reader #lads #lnds #l&ds

972 notes · View notes

nanaslutt · 1 year ago

Note

hear me out.. gojo w a mommy kink

oh em gee nonnie………

i wasn’t sure if you wanted sub or dom gojo but i hope you like what i cooked up :p

pls enjoy<3

contains: fem reader, mommy kink, use of ‘mama’, ‘mama’s’ as well, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), coming inside, bully!gojo, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, a liiiiitle cervix fucking, squirting, stomach bulge briefly mentioned, begging, whiney!gojo

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

it honestly started as a joke, maybe less of a joke and more of him testing the waters per say, “yes mommy” he chirped, humor and teasing laced in his tone when you asked him to take out the trash one afternoon

when you didn’t protest against the name, not giving him a usual snarky remark, he turned around to look at you, not expecting to see your blushing face, fidgeting from where you stood in the kitchen, looking embarrassed at the nickname he called you,

unbeknownst to you while you stared at your feet, a smile full of mischievousness was creeping onto gojo’s face, lightbulbs going off in his head

ohhh this is fucking perfect, he thought

he never knew how to bring up that he wanted to try this with you, it’s not like you would’ve taken him seriously anyways, he can picture how the conversation would go vividly in his mind,

but gojo was more than slightly to blame for the frequency in which you dismissed him. satoru was incapable of being serious to save his life

all thanks to his little ‘joke’ you were now currently in this predicament:

gojo’s massive palm shoving the side of your face into the mattress, tears and spit smeared on the sheets below you, other hand braced on your lower back, pushing you into the meanest arch as he fucks right into your gspot,

“you like that mommy?” he cooed, “like when i fuck your pussy like this? huh?” he teased lightly, laughing at the loud whimpers getting knocked out of your lungs each time his hips pulled his thick cock out of you only to bully his angry tip back right into your walls, rubbing you just right,

he was giving you the meanest backshots, feeling even more aroused than normal from not having to hold back this side of him anymore, “asked you a question mama’s,” he repeated, emphasizing his need for your response with a mean thrust,

“y-yeah f-feel ‘s good toru,” you moan out between his deep thrusts, “squeezin me so good mommy, fuuuuck.” he laughs when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him for the fourth time that night, “you gonna cum? you- o-oh fuuck.” words getting cut off at the intense feeling of your cunt gushing your squirt out around him,

“haaaaa, didn’t even warn me that time mama.” he grit his teeth, fucking you through your orgasm with newfound vigor, hand coming down to rub quickly back and forth against you clit, making your juices spray all over the bed underneath you,

“toruuuu, ‘m sensitive g-give me a second p-please.” you manage to stutter out, crying out when he doesn’t let up his assault on your overstimulated cunt, “nooo,” he moans pouting his lip down at you before smiling, “don’t think i wanna,” he finishes, leaning over you, moving his big hand off the side of your face and onto the bed next you you for leverage, other hand coming up to go grip your jaw and smash your lips into his,

he hums against your open mouth as you protest his malicious thrusts, fucking you like he’s trying to poke a hole through your guts. the new angle pushing his impossibly big cock ever deeper, kissing your cervix in painfully pleasurable thrusts,

“feel good mommy? huhhh?” he breathlessly whispers into your mouth, doing most of the work in kissing you as you were too fucked out to put in any effort. his tongue slipping into your mouth, sucking your lip into his and biting it between his teeth as he groans, “you feel me in ur stomach mommy?” he questions with a grin when he sees your shaky hand slide under your body to press against the bulge in your tummy,

“s fucking deep ‘toru p-please,” you begged, not really understanding yourself what you were asking for, but he just nods and hums agreements into your mouth, “m gonna cum inside you now.” he babbles against you lips, losing his sensibility bit by bit the longer he’s inside of you, butterflies flying around in his stomach when he feels your soft pussy clench around him tightly every time he uses the nickname, glad you’re getting off on it as much as he is,

“tell me you need it mommy, tell me- fuck- tell me you want me to fill this p-pretty pussy, need you to say it,” he’s gaping into your drooling mouth. your eyes having trouble staying forward in your eye sockets with how much pleasure you were getting from this,

“give it to me t-toru please, give it to me.” you somehow got out, barely coherent to someone if they were a foot away, luckily for gojo he was pressed against your face, whimpering ‘uhhuh?’’s repeatedly into your mouth, “cum inside mommy,” you slurred out, feeling his sloppy thrusts speed up,

loud echos of your wet cunt filling the room as he stills inside of you, whining and groaning out profanities hearing you call yourself by the nickname he was so insistent on, hips stilling deep inside you, cock feeling like it was inside your womb as he humps his sensitive dick against your ass,

“o-ohmygodd f-fuck meeee.” his whiney voice cries, rotating his hips in circles and simultaneously massaging your gspot while he lets the last spurts of his cum shoot deep inside you,

pushing his torso off of your back and leaning back while he pulls his still hard cock out, seed spilling down the back of your thighs as he spreads you pussy with his thumb to get a better view of it drip out, “fuck mama,” he laughed, biting his lip at the mess he made out of you, “gotta hear you call urself mommy again,” he smirks, pushing his sensitive dick back inside you, making you both gasp, “made me cum so fucking hard.” tipping his head back, breathing heavily as he steadies both his hands on your hips,

“not letting you leave till you have me shooting blanks inside this pussy,” he giggles into the air, you had no idea what you were in for.

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princessbrunette · 6 months ago

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when did you know you loved me? pt.4/4 ♡

it was rare bunny!reader and rafe got a day off like this. one where the kook princess’s boyfriend wasn’t running off on business, dragging her along or leaving her to run her own personal errands — like getting her nails done or shopping. today, the two of them relaxed on rafe’s boat in the hazy june sunshine. bunny stares off over the water, pondering..

you’re snapped from your thoughts when rafe arrives at your side, giving your ass a little swat and grab the way he always did as you looked over the ledge across the water.

“you good, kid?” he enquires casually as his hand slides up your back to grasp your shoulder, hooking his sunglasses back into his shirt.

“mhm, just thinking.” you muse, leaning into his side a little. you always went a bit brainless around rafe — it was second nature. he did the thinking, it was his job as a provider — well, that’s what he’d tell you anyway, and he’d drilled it into your head enough times for you to remember it.

“m’yeah? thinking about what?” he converses. he’d always get worried when you looked a little too pensive. rafe was an overthinker like that, the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him not to let you think too hard, because you’d uncover all his flaws and leave him. though you knew that could never be the case, rafe had some unpacked abandonment issues that often sat at the surface.

“us.” you hum simply, and his hand slides off your shoulder.

“well what — what are… why?” he struggles his word his concern, a frown forming between his brows.

“jus’ that i love you a lot, and i was thinking about how much i love you.” you shrug, not taking in the edge in his concerned tone. he relaxes a little, nodding though you weren’t looking his way as he draws in a long breath.

“right, yeah… yeah.” he plays it cool, scratching at his cheek before stepping away in the direction of the mini bar, deciding he needed a drink to take the edge off. “well, daddy loves you too, yeah?”

the casual assurance in his tone makes you bite your lip, gaze snapping over to him as he wanders away — and you speak once more, only wanting to prolong the time spent by his side.

“when did you know that you loved me rafey?” it’s a demure request, spoken hopefully through pouty lips and batting lash extensions. he spins around, blinking at you a few times before shrugging his shoulder.

“look, uh — i don’t know. i just did, alright?” he turns his mouth down like he hadn’t given it any thought and your face falls. you forget rafe wasn’t like you. he was a man of logic. fact over feelings (thats what he’d tell people, anyway.) he didn’t have time to ponder such things.

“oh.” you whisper, nodding your head. it wasn’t a big deal. you just wished he would gush over you the way you did him sometimes. he licks his lips, hesitance in his body language when he turns away once more this time, wishing he never saw that disappointment on your face at the way he brushed you off. he was still trying to get used to the whole being open with your feelings thing. his father hadn’t exactly lead by great example.

he cracks open a beer, and five minutes later he’s lounging on the white couch out on the deck, an arm strewn along the back of the seat and the other holding the bottle, reaching out towards you to gesture you over to him.

“come sit with me, dunno why you’re so far away.” he welcomes you, and you quietly pad over in your pink bikini, never once shying away from the unabashed way he watches your body move towards him. “mm. looking good.” he comments quietly before you’re climbing onto the couch and snuggling up to his side. there was no ‘thanks daddy’ or glossy kisses being pressed into him like usual, you were pensive, distant, thoughtful. he knew he’d brushed you off and you were trying so hard to seem like it hadn’t phased you, bless your little bunny heart. after a sigh, the kook begins to speak.

“it was after the whole thing with me getting arrested. you know the… the thing with the sheriff.” he relays, staring ahead over at the water even when you turned your head to gaze at him, blinking slowly in relaxed confusion as to what he was talking about.

“i…i wanted people to respect me, you know? like- like i had proven that i was willing to do anything to protect the people i care about. anything. enough to get me sent to fuckin’ jail, right?” he rambles, before shaking his head with his tongue in his cheek, thinking. you stay quiet, curious as to where this was going. you wanted to give him space to open up.

“but like…ahh, i don’t know. when i got out, people…people didn’t wanna hang with me anymore. i used to be that guy, right like — like everyone wanted to talk to the rafe cameron but after i got bailed out i… people were scared of me. thought i was some… violent, unhinged creature like… like i was some killer.” he squints, shaking his head in disagreement.

a few moments pass as he gathers his thoughts, before he speaks once more, this time glancing at you.

“so a little while after that i was down at the club, you know just… just tryna socialise again, blow off some steam. shit, i even told everyone that beers were on me, you know? free for everyone at the club. went back to go get my golf club, came back n’everyone had left. clearly they still saw me as some kinda monster.”

whilst you was unclear on why he was telling the story, you remembered clearly this time how hard it was for rafe to drag himself back up. he wouldn’t talk about how hard things were, and sure — eventually things had blown over and he was the life of every party once more, but you remembered the shift in atmosphere clearly. it was strange.

“uh…” he clears his throat. “so yeah i uh, i come back and you’re there, right? you’re just sat there by your self at the table… and shit you… you just looked so happy to see me,” he chuckles, shaking his head fondly at the memory. “like, i had left for two damn minutes and you were still happy to see me. you didn’t even — even care that everyone else had left… and that’s real ride or die shit, okay like — someone… someone who’s not gonna just up and leave you when shit gets tough like sarah did with my dad. nah, nah you stuck around. s’when i knew i wanted to put a fuckin’ rock on that little finger.” he takes your hand suddenly, holding it between the two of you like he’s envisioning the ring on your second to last finger, taking a moment to indulge in the fantasy.

you’re grinning ear to ear, understanding the significance of the story now as you flutter your eyelashes.

“rafey…” you coo softly and he shrugs, his wall fighting to come back up.

“yeah, well. you wanted your story, there’s your story.” he brushes it off casually, but even his lips curl up a little into a fulfilled smirk, catching your gaze with an unspoken awe.

“guess what, i loved you the second i saw you so i win.” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, pulling you into his chest.

“yeah? shit i didn’t know it was a competition.” he banters lightheartedly over your giggles, his cold heart thawing at the sound.

#8k celebration ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ 𐙚 ა #rafe cameron prompt #bunny!reader

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jlheon · 7 months ago

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୨୧ — hoodie (psh)

pairing. brothers bff! park sunghoon x fem! reader synopsis. you're going out & need a hoodie genre. fluff wc. 974 notes. ft. hee library.

“hee?” you called out as you walked down the hallway to your older brother’s bedroom. “can i borrow your black hoodie?”

twisting the door knob of heeseung’s room and bursting through the door. eyes naturally shifting to your older brother’s desk since he was always on his computer when he was home.

only to be met with an empty chair and a figure on the bed that was certainly not your brother.

“he’s in the shower,” the boy on the bed spoke up.

“oh thanks!” you smiled awkwardly, unable to recognize which one of heeseung’s friends was currently talking to you. “who are you?”

“you’re not wearing your glasses are you?” he got up from his spot on the bed and made his way towards you.

as the black-haired individual got closer your breath hitched. he stopped directly in front of you and towered over you. his hair slightly messy with bangs barely touching his eyes and glasses.

it was none other than park sunghoon.

“hoon?” you questioned, he looked extremely different from when you had last seen him.

his hair was shorter and looked nice enough that you could tell he had just cut it recently. it was fluffy and probably a little tangled, sticking up in some places around his head. though the glasses were completely new, you had never seen him wear any before.

“didn’t recognize me?” he let out a low chuckle, his voice making your stomach flip.

“you cut your hair,” you reached your hand up to his head attempting to smooth one particular strand that was poking out. “since when did you get glasses?”

“a couple of weeks ago,” he brought his hand up to bring down yours that was trying to fix his hair. sunghoon’s hand clasped around your wrist, keeping you from doing anything further to his newly styled hair. “why aren’t you wearing yours?”

“they’re in my room,” you said, eyes flickering to the light hold he had on you and then back up at him.

“you’re practically blind,” sunghoon joked. “how could you not recognize me?” he brought the hand that was holding your arm to his chest pretending you were stabbing him.

“you just look really different and blurry,” you defended yourself. “plus you are also blind now too if you need glasses!”

“it’s a stylistic choice ____,” he dropped the grip on your arm, removing the glasses from his face, and placed them on your face. “they’re fake.”

you looked around the room to see that your vision had not at all been affected by his glasses. everything looked just as fuzzy as before.

“you said you needed a hoodie?”

that was right. you got so distracted by sunghoon’s new look that you forgot that hyeju was on the way and probably almost at your house. you were wasting time, but you couldn’t help but gush in your head about how pretty sunghoon looked.

you took his glasses off and placed them back on the bridge of his nose.

“yeah i have to leave soon but hee’s not out yet.”

“why don’t you just wear mine,” sunghoon suggested.

you moved your gaze from his face down to his hoodie. it was plain black, nothing special but you must admit it looked comfortable. but maybe the fact it belonged to sunghoon made it more appealing to you.

“are you sure?” you asked meeting his eyes again.

instead of answering you, he stepped back slightly from you and held the bottom of his sweater. as he removed the garment over his head you couldn’t help but notice when his shirt got caught, lifting and revealing a faint glimpse of his abs. heat rushing to your cheeks.

“here,” he said once he finally had the black hoodie off completely.

he saw the remnants of blush that spread on your cheeks and laughed. you stood there unmoving, causing sunghoon to raise the hoodie to your head and put it on for you.

you poked your arms through the sleeves while still keeping eye contact with him. putting the piece of clothing on caused your hair to get staticky, so sunghoon returned your gesture from minutes before and combed his fingers through it to smoothen it out.

“thanks, hoon,” you finally spoke. “are you still going to be here when i get home so i can give it back to you?”

“probably,” he started. “but you can keep it, you look cute.”

again you felt heat rush up your neck and spread past your cheeks. you let out a nervous smile as you fiddled with the sleeves. the smell of his cologne wafted off the material and filled your senses.

sunghoon gave you a brief pat on your head and ruffled your hair. the moment quickly turned into a comfortable silence with his fingers still running through your hair.

the sound of your phone ringing in your back pocket broke the silence between the two of you. hyeju was probably outside waiting for you.

“bye hoon!” you yelled walking out of the bedroom and down the stairs. “thanks for the hoodie!”

“don’t forget your glasses ____,” he reminded you.

sunghoon watched as you emerged back from the stairs, and back into your room on the opposite end of the hall.

heeseung had stepped out of his bathroom and caught a glimpse of you in a hoodie that was neither yours nor his. he looked over to see sunghoon was now clad a plain white t-shirt, recalling that he had been wearing a hoodie when he had gone to shower.

“why is my sister wearing your hoodie?” heeseung raised an eyebrow at his friend, ruffling his hair with the towel around his neck.

“why not?” sunghoon smiled, going back to rest on heeseung’s bed.

heeseung let out a loud sigh and threw his wet towel at sunghoon’s head.

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cowboybeepboop · 23 days ago

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Kiss the chef

"Oh God...keep doing that..."

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5.7k

Summary: Clark is your best friend, who you suspect of being Superman.

a/n: Guys I’ve been like obsessed with writing but I have zero time 😔 it’s torture and I’m also running out of ideas for the names of each oneshot they’re getting crazy 😭 Also yes, I’m aware I shift perspectives a lot, thats a stylistic choice 👍

Clark hums softly as he moves around the kitchen area, his hands working diligently as he prepares dinner for the two of you.

He glances over his shoulder, his eyes catching a sight of you lounging on the couch, completely engrossed in your phone, a smile forms on his lips as a gasp escapes yours.

"Almost done in here," he says, his voice laced with a hint of contentment. "You find anything interesting on there?"

He turns his attention back to the meal, stirring something in a pan on the stove while sneaking glances your way, curious to know what's capturing your focus.

“Actually, yes.” You reply, hopping up and joining him in the kitchen. “There’s new photos of Superman that were just released.” You gushed, he knows about your crush on the hero, yet doesn't know that you’re imagining him as Superman.

Clark quirks an eyebrow, a slight amused smile on his face as he pretends to be surprised at the news.

"Really?" he says, feigning intrigue, not that he would need to fake it. "New photos, huh?"

He watches you from the corner of his eye as you join him in the kitchen, the mention of Superman stirring something within him.

You lean against the counter, your eyes locked on the screen. “Mm, it smells good.” you murmur, setting your phone down and looking at the food he’s prepared, your mouth nearly watering at the sight.

"Thanks." Clark replies, a proud smile spreading across his face as he watches you eye the dish with appreciation. He glances in the direction of the screen, seeing a glimpse of the photos of Superman before returning his focus to you.

"Hopefully it tastes as good as it smells." He teases, scooping up a spoonful of the food from the pan and offering it for you to taste.

You eagerly open your mouth, holding onto his wrist as you taste the flavor, you let out a satisfied noise. “It’s really good, like really good.”

Clark can't help but chuckle at the sound you make while tasting the food, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you hold onto his wrist.

"I'm glad you like it." He says, a hint of pride in his voice. "I put a little extra love into it just for you."

He scoops up some more food and offers it again, watching your reaction intently.

You step closer, taking the spoon into your mouth again, enjoying the way he’s feeding you small bites. “I should hire you as my private chef.” You sigh, licking your lips as you look at the pot.

"Careful, I might take you up on that offer." Clark replies, his eyes following the movement of your tongue as it licks your lips.

He sets the spoon down, then leans against the counter next to you, his arm casually resting next to yours. "Just imagine me cooking for you every night." He muses, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Sounds like heaven to me.” You grin at him, reaching for your phone as the screen lights up.

"Heaven, huh?" Clark muses, he glances at the lit-up screen, the photo of Superman once again catching his eye. He clears his throat, trying to keep his composure. "So, uh, what's so special about these new photos anyway?"

“You can see all of his muscles..” you murmur, eyes fixated on the photos. “I mean they’re such high quality, just look.” You show him the screen, your cheeks flushed a slight pink.

Clark swallows the words and the photos you show him causing a stirring within him. He struggles to keep his expression neutral as his eyes flick between the screen and you.

"Yeah, they're really uh, really high quality." He clears his throat, his eyes lingering on the image, specifically the muscles you mentioned. "You really like this guy, don't you?"

You nod, turning your phone off and slipping it into your back pocket. “I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to meet him..” you shiver at the thought.

Clark's heart flutters at your words, a mix of guilt and amusement playing within him. He can't help but wonder what your reaction would be if you knew the truth.

"Meet him, huh?" He remarks, his voice low and a touch hesitant. "What would you even do if you ever met him?"

“I can think of a couple things,” you reply suggestively, wiggling your eyebrows for further effect.

Clark blushes slightly at your suggestive reply, a mix of flustered surprise and amusement on his face. He glances away for a moment, trying to regain his composure.

"A couple things, huh?" he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I doubt the Man of Steel has time for...whatever it is you're thinking."

“Every man has time for..” you grin, “What I’m thinking of.” Clark's blush deepens at your response, his heart skipping a beat.

He scratches the back of his head, trying to remain cool and collected, though he can't entirely hide the effect your words have on him.

"Uh, yeah, well," he stammers, a bit of nervous energy in his voice. "I'm sure the Man of Steel has much bigger priorities than...meeting fans and fulfilling...fantasies."

“Maybe.. Or maybe he has all the time for his eager fangirls.” You pull your hair into a ponytail, slyly exposing your nape to him as you notice how flustered he's becoming.

A wave of heat washes over Clark as you expose your nape to him, and he struggles to keep his composure. His eyes linger on the exposed skin for a moment, his thoughts swirling with a mixture of desire and restraint.

"Eager fangirls, huh?" he teases, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. "You certainly seem eager enough."

You giggle, watching as he turns off the stove. “I do, don’t I?”

Clark tries to ignore the way your giggle sends a shiver down his spine, turning his attention back to the stove instead. He swallows hard, desperately trying to keep his mind from wandering.

"You certainly do," he replies, his voice slightly strained. "And I have a feeling you're pretty relentless too."

“You know it.” Your grin grows as he plates the food, grabbing both in his hands as he leads you back to the living room. Clark balances the plates as he moves, he places them on the coffee table, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the way your grin makes his heart race.

"Should we watch something? A movie perhaps?” he clears his throat as he changes the topic.

“Mm.. yeah, you pick what we watch.” You settle on the floor in front of the couch, your back pressing against his knee.

Clark can't help but savor the feeling of your back against his knee, a mix of contentment and desire swirling within him. He grabs the remote, flipping through possible options but not really paying attention, his mind too preoccupied with the proximity of you and your intoxicating scent.

"How about, uh..." He struggles to think of a suitable movie as he glances down at you, his heart rate increasing. "How about that one?" he points to a movie at random.

“Sounds good.” You agree, focused on the food in front of you.

Clark tries to focus on the movie as it plays, but his attention is constantly drawn to you, the way you sit, the way you eat, the way your scent fills the air. Every little detail seems to distract him.

As the movie progresses, he finds himself inching closer to you, his knee pressing more firmly against your back. He tries to act nonchalant, hoping you don't notice his increasing closeness.

As you finish your food, you lean back against his leg further, playing on your phone. “You know, I’ve been thinking..”

Clark stiffens slightly as you lean back further against his leg, the feeling sending a thrill through him. He tries to remain nonchalant as he responds.

"Thinking? About what?" He glances down at you, his eyes flicking to your phone before meeting the back of your head again.

“You’re a reporter.” You begin, turning to look at him. “If you ever met Superman, would you tell him about me? Put in a good word..” you’re hoping that prompting him might reveal his secret.

A pang of guilt hits Clark at your question, but he forces a smile, trying to maintain composure. He knows the truth, that he *is* Superman, but hearing you talk about him like that, asking him to put in a good word...it's both endearing and painful.

"I...uh, yeah, sure." he says, his voice a bit strained. "If I ever met him...I'd definitely mention you."

“You’re such a good friend.” You smile, turning your attention back toward the tv though your mind is obscured with disappointment.

As you turn your focus back to the TV, Clark lets out a shaky exhale, the words "good friend" stinging a little more than he expected. He remains silent for a moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.

He glances down at you, the mixture of guilt and affection swirling inside him. He can't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out the truth.

You reach for your wine glass, taking a small drink of the crimson liquid. Clark watches as you take a sip, the way your lips touch the glass making his heart skip a beat. He clenches his fists, fighting the urge to reach out and touch your face, your hair, anything.

"You, uh, like the wine?" he asks, trying to keep his mind from wandering.

“It’s actually really good, I usually hate wine.” You reply, “Where did you get it?”

Clark watches you take another sip, a hint of surprise on his face at your admission. He glances over at the half-empty bottle on the coffee table.

"Oh, it's from a small vineyard in Italy.” he answers, trying to keep his voice casual. "A friend gave it to me, said it was a special blend. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion, actually.”

His eyes linger on you once more, the sight of you drinking the wine stirring something within him.

“Then why did you waste it?” Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to look at him, confusion painted on your face.

Clark’s heart flutters slightly at your question, a mix of surprise and affection coursing through him. He tries to maintain his composure as he speaks.

“W-waste it?” he repeats, his voice slightly hoarse. “I don’t think sharing it with a...a friend is a waste.” His eyes meet yours, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze as he wonders if you can see through his facade.

“But it’s not particularly a *special* occasion, is it?” You cock your head to the side, shifting your body to face him.

Clark swallows, feeling your gaze on him as you turn to face him fully. He can see the curiosity in your eyes, the subtle hint in your question.

“I...I suppose not.” he admits, his voice soft. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.” He studies your face, his heart racing as he wonders if you suspect something.

You narrow your eyes at him, scanning his features. “Clark..”

Clark feels a hint of alarm as you narrow your eyes, your gaze intense as you seem to be studying him. He can sense your suspicion, and it makes his heart race even faster.

“Y-yes?” he replies, his voice slightly shaky. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can’t quite hide the nervousness that’s beginning to show.

“You look..” you lean closer, eyes glued to his every movement. “You really do look a lot like him.” biting down on your lip as you rest your hands on his knees.

Clark’s heart stutters at your words, his breath catching in his throat. He tries desperately to maintain eye contact, but he can feel his resolve slipping away under your intense gaze.

“Like who?” he stutters, knowing full well you’re talking about Superman.

“You know who,” you roll your eyes at his response, leaning closer to peel his glasses off his face, your fingers brush over his cheekbones. Warmth pools in your stomach as you consider the consequences of pushing him any further.

Clark's eyes widen as you reach for his glasses, he swallows hard, feeling a mix of panic and anticipation. He knows he should stop you, but he can't bring himself to move as you draw closer.

You fold them up and set them on the coffee table behind you. “You’re really handsome.” You murmur under your breath as you gaze up at him from your position on the floor, hands itching to touch his skin once again.

Clark's breath hitches at your compliment, his heart fluttering as he takes in your words and your proximity. He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks as you look up at him, the mix of nervousness and desire swirling within him like a tempest.

He can't help but respond, his voice barely above a whisper. "You..you think so?" He reaches out, catching a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it around his forefinger.

“Of course.” You smile, leaning your elbows on his knees. “Clark, we don’t have any secrets between us do we?” your breath seems to get caught in your throat, dropping hints isn’t working anymore, you’ll have to be more direct with him.

Clark tries desperately to push down the panic that rises in his chest at your question. He knows he should say something, anything, but the words get stuck in his throat.

His gaze flicks around the room, trying to find anything other than your eyes to focus on, but it's no use. He can feel your expectation, the way you're searching for the truth. He glances down at you again, the sight of you leaning on his knees making his heart flutter,

"N-no," he stutters, his voice strained. "No secrets."

You can tell he’s not being truthful, your expression faltering. “You’re lying.”

Clark swallows hard, the wave of guilt that washes over him nearly overwhelming. He can see the disappointment in your face, the way your expression falters, and it guts him.

He can't keep lying to you, not like this. He looks away, unable to meet your gaze, his voice small.

"I...I am." he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What is it you’re hiding?” You murmur, eyes locked on his beautiful blue ones.

Clark can feel his facade collapsing with each passing second. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks back at you, your gaze intense and searching. He can almost feel the truth on the tip of his tongue, threatening to burst out.

“You can tell me anything.. Clark, we’re friends.” You move to sit next to him on the couch.

Clark takes a deep breath as you move closer, sitting next to him on the couch. The feeling of your proximity, the warmth of your body next to him, it's both a comfort and a source of anxiety.

He gazes at you, his eyes betraying the mixture of emotions raging inside him. He wants to tell you, to share this secret, but he's also terrified of how you'll react when you find out you’ve been crushing on him. You place your palm on his leg, offering some comfort.

Clark feels your hand on his leg, the touch sending a wave of warmth through him, calming his nerves slightly, but not enough to quiet his worries.

"I..." he begins, his heart pounding in his chest. "I don't know how to say this, but..." He takes another deep breath, his voice soft, low, and filled with trepidation. "I'm Superman."

“I knew it!” You gasp, eyes widened as you straighten up next to him.

Clark's eyes widen at your exclamation, the suddenness and volume of your voice taking him aback. He hadn't expected such an immediate reaction, let alone you to believe him so readily. He watches as you straighten up next to him, a mix of surprise and relief washing over him.

"Y-you did?" he stutters, his heart still racing.

“I mean of course, I’ve had my suspicions. Every time I speak of Superman it makes you turn pink.” You tease him lightly.

Clark feels his cheeks flush with color at your statement, the truth of your words hitting him hard. He blushes even more red as a result, the heat in his face growing in intensity.

He glances at you, a mix of embarrassment and relief in his expression. "I, uh, I didn't think it was that obvious," he mutters, his voice sheepish.

“Only because I know you so well.” You grin proudly. “But, I have another question for you.”

Clark can't help but feel a pang of affection as you grin at him, your confidence and familiarity with him making his heart flutter. He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Ask me anything," he says, his voice slightly more relaxed now that the secret is out.

“Does the man of steel really not have time for one of his fans?” You bite down on your lip.

Clark's heart stutters at your words, the change in your tone sending a wave of desire through him. He can feel his own heart rate spike as you bite down on your lip, your eyes filled with a mixture of teasing and want.

He sucks in a breath, his voice slightly hoarse as he manages a response.

"The man of steel has plenty of time for his...biggest fan."

“Biggest fan hm?” You question, sliding onto his lap and straddling his hips.

Clark's breath catches in his throat as you slide onto his lap, your body settling on top of him. He swallows hard, his heart racing as he looks up at you, your face so close to his he can almost taste your breath.

He places his hands tentatively on your hips, his fingers gently gripping the fabric of your clothes as he responds, his voice thick with desire. "The biggest. And the most beautiful."

“Clark..” you lean down, nose brushing against his. “Can I kiss you?”

Clark can feel your breath on his skin as you lean down, your nose brushing against his. His heart hammers in his chest, the sound of your voice sending a wave of anticipation through him. He gazes up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration.

"Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "Please...kiss me."

You cup his face, fingers dancing over his skin as you connect your lips softly.

Clark's eyes flutter shut as you cup his face, your fingers tracing gentle paths on his skin. The softness of your touch ignites a fire within him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that's both gentle and passionate.

He lets out a soft moan, his hands moving from your hips to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

The kiss quickly turns hungry, your lips part to let his tongue in. Your body is pressed flush against him, hands tangling in his hair as you tug on the roots gently.

Clark's tongue explores your mouth with a hunger that takes him by surprise. He tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you closer against him, his body reacting to every move you make.

He lets out a low moan as you tug on his hair, the feeling sending a wave of pleasure through him. He responds by biting your lip gently, his hands slowly caressing the skin of your back.

You pull away for a breath, Clark's chest heaves as you pull away, his eyes opening slowly to take in the sight of you. Your lips, swollen and glistening from the kiss, make his heart stutter, the need to kiss you again almost overpowering.

He gazes at you in awe for a moment, his breathing ragged, before speaking, his voice slightly hoarse.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers, his hands still holding you close.

“I think I have some idea,” You tease, glancing down at the tent growing in his slacks. “I can feel it, you know.”

Clark follows your gaze, his heart skipping a beat as he sees the effect your presence has on him. He swallows hard, his eyes darting back up to meet yours, a mixture of embarrassment and desire playing across his face.

He responds, his voice low, his fingers gently caressing your hip.

"That's...that's all your fault," he says, his words laced with a hint of accusation and appreciation.

“My fault?” Your hand begins to trail down his chest. “Then I guess I should take responsibility, take care of it.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss his neck.

Clark's breath hitches as your hand trails down his chest, his heart rate quickening in anticipation. Your touch is fire on his skin, igniting every nerve.

He groans softly as you lean forward to kiss his neck, his head tilting to give you better access. Your words and the feeling of your lips on his skin send a wave of desire through him, his body reacting to your touch.

"Responsibility, huh?" he manages to reply, his voice strained. "I like the sound of that."

“I can finally do what I’ve been dreaming of doing to you..” you whisper into his ear, your hand finally making contact with his erection.

Clark's breath hitches at your words, the sound of your voice in his ear sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel the heat of your body as you lean in closer, your hand finally making contact with his hardness.

He lets out a low moan, his body responding to your touch with an intensity he's never felt before. "Oh fuck..." He looks at you with hooded eyes, his voice thick with need.

You reach for his shirt, pulling it off of him. “Holy shit, Clark.” Your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you stare.

Clark feels a wave of heat as you pull his shirt off, the air cool against his skin. He watches as your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, the look of desire in your eyes making his heart race.

He knows how strong he is, how powerful his body is. But hearing your reaction, seeing the effect he has on you, it's something else entirely.

"You like what you see?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice, his muscles flexing under your gaze.

You lean forward, kissing his chest. “You have no idea.” You mutter, fingers trailing over each muscle as your other hand continues to massage his clothed hardness.

Clark's breath catches in his throat, his body reacting to your touch, your kisses on his chest sending waves of pleasure through him. He can't help but arch into your touch, his muscles responding to your caress.

He lets out a low moan, his voice strained as he speaks, "Oh God...keep doing that..." He's lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you.

Clark's breath catches in his throat as your kisses move lower and lower down his stomach, each touch sending a wave of pleasure through him. He gasps as your tongue teases over his abs, his eyes watching your every move.

His hands grip the edge of the couch as you work on his belt, his desire for you growing with each second. He lifts his hips slightly to help you remove his pants, the feeling of your hands on him almost too much to bear.

Once his pants and boxers are removed, he's left naked in front of you, sitting on the couch with his legs spread apart. He gazes at you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

He's completely under your spell, his entire being focused on you and only you. "Come here." He reaches for you, his voice soft and needy.

You bring your lips to his once again, the kiss passionate and hungry. Clark responds to your passionate kiss with a fervor of his own, pulling you closer against his body, his hands roaming over your back, your hips, everywhere he can reach. He's lost in the kiss, in the feeling of your body against his.

He can't get enough of you, his need for you growing with every passing second. He moans softly into your mouth, his body reacting to your touch, his hard length pressed against your thigh.

You reach to grasp his erection, his thick cock barely fitting in your grasp. You begin to move your hand, slowly jerking him off as the kiss becomes more intense.

You pull away from his lips to catch your breath, your eyes hooded in desire. “You’re huge..”

Clark's breath catches at your words, the praise sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel your hand on him, stroking him slowly, the feeling overwhelming yet perfect.

“It’s perfect.. you’re perfect.” You slip off of his lap, settling between his muscular thighs.

Clark's heart flutters at your words, affection washing over him. He watches you move down between his thighs, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you so close to his cock. He reaches down, gently running his fingers through your hair, his voice soft but filled with need.

"I could say the same about you," he says, his eyes meeting yours, his body alive with anticipation. "You're...you're incredible."

You lean in closer, wrapping your soft lips around the head of his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as you taste the salty sweetness of his precum. The room is filled with the sounds of your gentle slurps and Clark's moans of pleasure.

Your hand grips the base firmly, stroking in sync with your mouth as you take more and more of him in, inch by glorious inch. You feel him swell in your grip, the veins pulsing with his excitement.

You moan around him, the vibration sending shockwaves through his body. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding your pace as your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the sensitive spot beneath the head.

You look up at him through hooded eyes, watching his reaction as you deepthroat him, his face a mask of pure ecstasy. The intimacy of the moment is intoxicating, both of you lost in the sensual dance of your mouth and his cock, the tension building as the pleasure crescendos.

With every bob of your head, Clark's moans become louder, his eyes never leaving yours. The connection between you is palpable, the intimacy of the moment amplifying every sensation.

His cock grows in your mouth, the taste of him driving you wild. You savor the feeling of his hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, the power of his grip speaking to your desire. His eyes, filled with lust and admiration, bore into yours, creating a silent conversation of pleasure that needs no words.

Your tongue laps at his shaft, tracing the veins that stand out against his skin, your mouth creating a warm, wet heaven around his length. Each stroke, each suck, each flick of your tongue is a declaration of your adoration, a silent promise to bring him to the brink of ecstasy and back again.

The room feels like it's spinning around you, the air thick with passion as you both give into the carnality of the act. Your cheeks hollow with the effort of taking him so deep, but it's a challenge you eagerly accept, the thrill of his pleasure reflected in every whimper that passes your lips.

You continue to worship him with your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. The way his hips buck slightly with each deep throat, the way his abs tighten as he holds back, it's all driving you crazy. The sound of his breath hitching and his fingers tightening in your hair sends a thrill through you, making your pussy throb with need.

You moan around him, the vibrations echoing along his length, and he can't help but thrust a little deeper into your welcoming heat. The taste of him, the feel of him, it's all you can focus on as you give him the blowjob of his life, eager to show him just how much he means to you, to show him the depth of your desire.

You feel the tension in his body building, the way his thighs tense around you, and you know he's close. The air in the room crackles with energy, the heat from both your bodies blending into an intoxicating cloud of lust.

You don't stop, you can't stop, you want him to remember this moment, to feel the intensity of your passion every time he thinks of you.

You continue to devour him with your mouth, your eyes locked onto his, which are filled with a mix of disbelief and pure bliss. The connection between you is electric, your every movement a silent testament to the desire that's been simmering beneath the surface.

Each time your lips meet the base of his cock, you can feel his thighs tense against your cheeks, and the soft groan that escapes from his lips sends shivers down your spine. You're both drowning in the intensity of the moment, your hearts pounding in time with the rhythm of your mouth and his hips.

You can feel him swelling even more, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to this peak sends a thrill through you. You suck harder, faster, each motion a silent plea for him to let go. And when he does, with a final, desperate thrust into your throat, the salty warmth of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow eagerly, relishing the proof of his pleasure.

You pull back slowly, licking your lips, watching as he comes down from the high with a sigh of satisfaction. The air is thick with the scent of sex and love, and it's all you can do to not climb onto him and feel him deep inside you, to complete this perfect moment.

Clark pulls you to him, his lip moving to your neck as he gently slides his hand under your skirt. The fabric whispers against your skin as he reaches for the waistband of your panties, his touch sending shockwaves through your body. His fingertips graze over the soft fabric before he hooks it with his thumbs, pulling them down slowly.

His eyes never leave yours, filled with love and a desperate need to feel all of you. As the last of your barriers fall away, his erection pressed against your bare thigh, hot and demanding. His hands caress your skin as if it were the most precious thing in the world, his kisses trailing down to your collarbone, each one a promise of the passion to come.

The air is charged with anticipation, your hearts beating in sync as you both give in to the intensity of your desires. He lifts you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight as if he never wants to let you go. You can feel the head of his cock nudging at your wet entrance, begging for more, but he takes his time, kissing you deeply and savoring the moment.

His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples in time with the rhythm of your kisses, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. The room is a whirlwind of passion and love as you both succumb to the depth of your feelings, the promise of ultimate intimacy just a breath away.

Clark's hands hold your hips as he guides you down onto his cock, the thickness of him stretching you open as you moan with pleasure. He's gentle, so gentle, as he makes love to you, each thrust coming slow and steady, as if he's savoring every moment. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down in a firm but tender rhythm that sends electric jolts through your body.

You lean back, gripping onto the couch cushions as he fills you completely, the sensation of his warmth and size overwhelming your senses. His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you growing stronger with each shared breath. Each stroke of his thumb sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and your moans become more desperate, your body begging for release.

His own breathing becomes more ragged, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you come apart in his arms. The room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the perfect harmony of love and passion.

Clark’s eyes bore into you as he carefully guides his cock inside you, his movements tender and deliberate. The way you straddle him, the way your pussy clenches around him, it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. His thumb continues its delicate dance on your clit, his touch a masterpiece of passion.

Your eyes are glazed with lust, your breath coming in short, needy gasps as he takes you higher and higher. Each stroke is a declaration of his love, a promise of the intensity to come. Your moans become louder, your body moving with his in a rhythm that feels like it's been written in the stars.

His thumb presses harder, his hips moving faster, and you feel the first tremors of your orgasm beginning to build. The tension in the room is palpable, each touch a spark that ignites the bonfire of desire within you both. You lean into him, your breasts brushing against his chest, your body craving the closeness that only he can provide.

The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the air, a testament to the love you share. You're both lost in the moment, in the symphony of your bodies, and the crescendo is just within reach. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you get closer, your breathing shallow and erratic.

And when the climax hits, it's like a supernova, explosive and all-consuming, leaving you both gasping for air. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a balm to your soul as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

555 notes · View notes

defmaybe · 3 months ago

Text

Cherry

NMIXX’s Oh Haewon x Male Reader

2.5k words

A/N: Dawg. Another BFH fic, I promise I’ll reduce the output rate lol. Also, thanks to @djnayeon for inspiring this with a fucking Shrek gif lol. Thanks for reading!!!

—

Haewon tosses a torn piece of paper with a scribble on it.

My dorm, 602

—

You stand in front of a dormitory, exuding malice with its structure–black, trapezoid, dystopian. A buzzer then signals you to enter. The glassy doors slide open, giving the sight of its stark interior.

You trail through the rotating stairs, seeing your destination up high. Each step grows heavier, as her room comes closer and closer. Fatigue sets in. Fuck.

But just as you’re about to give up, the number appears on the door right in front of you—602.

Thank fuck.

You knock on the door, as the customs—three times, knock, knock, knock. You wait. You wait. You wait. It’s an eternity of ten seconds. Before the door swings open, giving you the sight of an olive-haired woman, dressed in a tight, cream top, with the pants that leaves little to your imagination.

“Get in,” Haewon orders, annoyance spreads on her expression. “Don’t fucking ogle me right now, keep it to when I fuck your brains out.”

You settle yourself inside her room immediately. It’s tidy, perfect for a lone living space–bed over here, bathroom over there, table by the bed. It’s everything you’d expect from this type of room. Then, you catch the Imaginal Disk vinyl sitting above a player, with other ones: Alvvays, Emotion, Keepsake.

“Come,” Haewon orders, snapping you out of the trance. “Eat my cunt.”

—

“Fucking pervert,” she huffs, as the wet squelches of your tongue lapping up her tangy nectar carry through the room. Her tempting lush folds only heighten your lust further. And despite the nonchalant verbal expressions, her quivering nails gripping on your scalp seem to have their objections. Oh, the woman that you are, Haewon.

Long gone, her lower garments, leaving her in a cream top. Every blow of wind would give the view of her erect nubs from time to time, What a sight. Not to add, her luscious, creamy thighs only sate your unquenchable thirst.

Right now, your world is only her—her glistening cunt, to be exact. You need to take all of her for yourself—every square millimeter of her velvety flesh, every strand of her silk, every drop of her salty liquid gushing out in arousal. You alternate between her juicy folds and the swollen nub, sweeping her sensitive area for all you can. “Ah! Fuck!” And you earn a wailing from her.

You’re sure that the crescent marks are going to be visible until at least the next week, eliciting some laughs and giggles from your prudish peers. But they will never know what an ecstasy it is to be eating Haewon’s pussy like this, with the mixture of your fluids running down your chin.

“F-Fuck, yeah, just like that, boy toy,” Haewon moans. “Keep eating my pussy like this and I’ll fuck your ass until you can’t walk.”

The promise of her plastic phallus pushes you up among the clouds. God, her artificial cock plowing your ass, making you her bitch. Every thrust ramming your prostate to your own brim, as you moan like a fucking cockslut you are–hungry for her domination.

You part her wet folds at an even quicker speed. “F-Fuck, boy toy, you’ve improved, haven’t you?”

“Life is a learning, mommy,” you answer through the act. Haewon lets go of your sore head, instead using her palms, softly pressing your head onto her instead.

“Witty, I like that.” And you just whimper out in response.

Her stream of lubricant won’t seem to stop, and it’s like you’d complain about her taste–tangy, intense, robust. While the scent, far from the flowers of the springs, only shackles you by the throat to keep eating her cunt like there’s no tomorrow. It’s intoxicating, she’s intoxicating, fuck.

Queued, her legs shake, signaling the pending orgasm on your face. “M-Mommy’s gonna cum soon, boy toy. Keep eating my cunt just like that,” Haewon commands.

With her words, your touches become more intense, eager to please your mommy to her climax. You wait for her torrent on your pretty face.

And just like that, her legs shake, a fountain of her squirt paints your features. You let your tongue out to taste her liquid–clear, yet intense like her aggression.

“Fuck, yes, drink it up, you dirty cuntslut,” she grunts, body still convulsing from the pleasure. God, quite a thesaurus she has.

Her squirt flows for a few more heartbeats into your welcoming mouth until she comes down from her climax. Her juice comes out just as slow as her subsiding breathing.

“F-Fuck, that was good, boy toy,” Haewon huffs, smiling, before her voice would become low again. “Now get on the bed, get that asshole ready.”

On a whim, you jump back first onto her bed, with her plushies jumping a bit upon your landing. You quickly push your pants off, and your cock springs out. Not to mention your eager puckered hole, so ready for her rough pounding.

Haewon picks up a harness with a dildo on it–daunting in its length, outrageous in its girth. You aren’t walking normally to your dorm today.

“I-It’s so big, m-mommy,” you whimper.

Standing, latching her strap, she bends forward to speak, “A slut like you deserves to be stretched out, don’t you?”

“Y-Yes, mommy.”

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.” She finishes the last lock of her strap-on, before discarding her creamy top, displaying her tits in glory.

“Give me the lube, it’s above your head,” she orders, and you toss her the red bottle from the cabinet above you.

“Ready?” Haewon asks, stroking her plastic cock with a strawberry-scented lubricant.

“Yes, mommy.”

Boldly, she pounces on your thighs for a grip–so tightly. Her glistening length is merely an inch away from you. She grins–so malevolent.

Boldly, her length pierces your tightness, inch by inch. Fuck, it’s stretching you out. You’re fighting the urge to moan, like you haven’t been under her assertion all this time.

“Hmm~, so ready for mommy.”

Boldly, she buries her plastic cock up to the hilt, hitting the little spot called the prostate. It sends shocks through you, and she seems to be satisfied with your contorted expression.

Boldly, you moan, so loud, too loud. And she giggles at the sight.

“Can’t handle my cock, baby?” she says, as she slowly slides the length out.

“Ngh,” you cry out. The filling inside you agonizingly disappears. But as you thought she’d pull out all the way, she rams herself back into you. “Ahhh. Fuck.”

Haewon chuckles at you, pulling out again. And it begins, the rhythm of her dominance.

You become pliant for her–to touch, to play with, to fuck. She gains her tempo in messaging your inner walls. “Keep moaning like that, boy toy, It’s a song to me.”

Your mind is lost in the stars, only moans and whimpers to follow her orders. “Ngh, ahhh, mmmh.” Her pounding is so rough, yet it only fuels your fire further.

“Y-Your cock is so good, mommy.”

“I know, boy toy, I know you’d love my cock like a slut you are,” Haewon responds with a chuckle. Her hips strike your ass faster, hitting your prostate at the bullseye with each jerk. “Say it, who’s my little slut.”

You take a deep breath, before responding, “I-I’m your slut, mommy.”

“Louder.”

You take another deep breath, before shouting this time, “I’M YOUR SLUT, MOMMY.”

“Good boy, good fucking boy,” Haewon says, before dragging out her pace as she pants.

“Wha-What are you doing, mommy?” you ask, voice shaking with worry.

“I-I need your cum inside me, c’mere,” Haewon huffs, as she pulls in your thighs until they press against hers. The plastic cock points up along with yours.

“Can’t have your cock go soft before I, ugh,” she grunts, forcefully attempting to unbuckle the strap from herself. “Why the fuck is it so hard?”

“Nghhhh, mommyyy, please just fuck me already,” you groan out, being pulled away from the precipice second by second.

A forceful slap lands on your ass, “Ah! Fuck!”, the red mark of Haewon’s hand is probably imprinted on a canvas called you.

“You’re in no position to exert your needs here, alright? Shut the fuck up!” Haewon shouts, voice raspy, and you can do nothing but comply. “You’re so fucking lucky that I let you get a taste of my cunt. If you’re pulling some shit like this again, I’ll fucking hang you on the edge, alright?”

“Y-Y-Yes, mommy,” you whimper, voice shaking.

“Now, let me get this ugh- fucking strap off.” She struggles with it a bit more, until she finally tears it off, revealing her aroused sex for you once again. “Fucking finally.”

And it’s quick—the way she quickly envelops your cock within her drenched folds. And it plays out by the cowgirl’s book—her supple ass sliding up and down your cock, your moans, her moans (even if hers are in a much lower register–more like a groan per se).

“Nghhhh.”

“Fuckkkk.”

“M-Mommy!”

“Ah!”

The cacophony fills Haewon’s room, combined with the mess of fleshes clapping into each other. The allegro tempo makes it easier for you to make your eyes flutter in raw, unscathed ecstasy. The storm is still far away, but you can see it. You can see it. Lightning. The sound of it. The small drops of water on your arms, signaling the whirlwind of a release in the distance.

With her movement, your eyes keep alternating between her bouncing, luscious mounds and the sight of your cock disappearing into her. This shit is fucking hypnotizing.

“Don’t you dare go fucking other slut, understand? I-I only have you.”

Her first tinge of genuine affection. Your heartbeat quickens even more at her words.

“Y-Yes, ah, mommy,” you respond.

And somehow, boldly, Haewon captures you with her cherry-flavored lips–ardent, confident, ass still grinding on your filthy cock. She keeps gasping for air, but her tongue sweeps every square millimeter of your dirty, lustful mouth. She cups your face tight.

But before you can revel in the act, Haewon pulls back from the kiss. Her face is now flushed, eyes elsewhere with hands wiping the saliva away. And you smile.

“The fuck you’re smiling at, huh? Just fucking cum inside me, boy toy, fill me up.”

Your voice isn’t shaky anymore, reinvigorated by the kiss. “Okay, mommy.”

Haewon rides you faster, upping the tempo of yourselves clashing together. Her tight, velvety walls are calls of the storm. It’s raining now, and flashes and flashes of lightning can be seen from afar.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum,” she moans, as her body atop of you shakes–violent, unyielding. She keeps the pace for her sex to be impaled by your length. Her juicy thighs lose their controls. Her breaths grow shorter. And her wanton cunt is quivering.

And she cums, “Fuck, shit!” Streams of clear juice leaks out in a torrent, legs trembling once again. Her whole body convulses, mouth open, you’d do anything just to see this again.

But she won’t stop just here.

“Now, your turn.” Haewon recollects herself up to a languid pace, opposite to the frantic tempo earlier. She’s definitely fucking with you now.

“Oh, my toy is frustrated because I’m not riding him fast enough?” Haewon pouts, and of course it is a sarcastic one. She doesn’t seem to let you have your pleasure yet.

“What if I–” Haewon swipes her lips with a finger, gathering a hue of coral on it. “–do this?”

Slowly, she docks the digit on your needy lips, pasting the tinge along them.

Slowly, she pushes her finger into your mouth, giving you the taste of cherry.

“Like that, you slut?”

“Yes, mommy.”

Slowly, you envelop her slender digit with a warm welcome–eyes closed, humming through the act.

Slowly, she sweeps your cavern, spreading the fruity paste everywhere, and you surely forget about how slow her tight cunt is pressing onto you right now.

“Mmmmmm,” you moan, sucking her digit. The taste only entices you more.

“Yeah, suck mommy’s finger like a bitch you are,” she says, and you just can’t deny that–her finger and the title.

Here you are, surrendered to her conquest, sucking her finger with an incomparable hunger. The submission just becomes innate now; you are so ready to give her the full control.

Without a warning, she finally ramps up her pace, slamming her wet, dainty cunt down your cock with more frenzy.

“Ah, ah, nghh, fuck, mommy~” you cry out, so lost in the haze.

“Breed me, fucking breed me.” Haewon looks up onto the ceiling as her groan fills the room. “I want to feel your seed hitting my womb, only yours.”

Thunders start to strike the ground with each thrust–bang, bang, bang. Each one has the determination to set the fire inside you alight.

“I-I think I’m cumming, mommy, a-are you sure about this?” You can feel it, the spark of it.

She huffs, “F-Fuck yeah, I want a creampie this time, boy toy.”

You start to grow greedy, despite the fear of her punishment. Still, it’s like you’d care right now, with any of her so-called disciplinary actions only pushing you towards the edge. You pump your cock upwards to match her slams.

“Hmm~, putting in some work too?” Haewon bends down to ruffle your hair, pouting. “So adorable for mommy~.”

Again, she captures you with her lips, every moan, every whimper, every cry is contained within the connection. You can feel it, the little fires everywhere. It’s only a matter of time until it merges into a raging inferno.

“M-Mommy~.”

And it burns, deep into her womb. Your cock paints ropes and ropes of essence within her needy cunt, as you scream deep into her lungs. The blaze consumes both of you, still fighting with your tongues. Your hips jerk with each shot, “Ngh, ngh, ngh,” and your back becomes an arch.

Eventually, the fire is gone, only the remnants of the burns left. Haewon pants against you as you do so, foreheads touching, smiling.

“You’re just fucking fun to use, you know that?” she says, before latching onto your quivering lips.

Long gone, the ardor buried within you two, replaced by something else, something you can’t quite pinpoint. Haewon kisses you, and you kiss her back with the remaining passion for her that’s left inside you.

Finally, she pulls back from you, a string of saliva connects you two in the separation. She’s smiling.

“I love being your little boy toy too, Haewon,” you say, she laughs. Before she gets down from the ride, lying next to you. Your cum leaks out of her cunt onto the bedsheets.

“Wanna do this again?” Haewon asks.

“Definitely, maybe.”

“Maybe?” Haewon furrows her brows, getting up to look you in the eye. “I fucking dicked you down until you moaned like that and you say ‘maybe’?”

You chuckle with the statement, before turning your back to her, “Cuddle me please, mommy.”

“Sure.” Haewon says, smiling, as she lies down again, hugging your frame from behind, ready to go through this nocturne together.

—

#haewon #haewon smut #nmixx #nmixx smut #nmixx haewon #nmixx haewon smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader #male reader smut

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jayybugg · 6 days ago

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drunken confessions

Theodore Nott x FemRavenclaw!Reader

Summary: Theo drinks a little bit more than he should....

Warnings: Drinking, No use of Y/N, Only mentions being in Ravenclaw once, and very cute???

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: Long time no see, my loves! I took a really long hiatus abruptly because life was kicking my ass badly. I decided that my first fic back should be a Theo fluff because who would I be if I didn't give this boy all of my attention? I hope you guys all enjoy it.

Banners by @cafekitsune

Music boomed through the Slytherin common room as you tried to navigate the sweaty bodies and screaming teens. You were trying to find Theodore, the person who had invited you. It was a celebratory party for Slytherin winning the quidditch game against Hufflepuff. You were in the Ravenclaw house but are good friends with many people in Slytherin.

"Oy," Draco pulled you to the side, "Looking for Theo?"

"Yeah, you've seen him?" you asked, gripping his arm so no one could separate you both. Draco nodded, pulling you to a separate room where Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo sat.

"Finally, you're here." Daphne pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear, "Drunk pants over there have been asking about you for the past hour."

You glanced over at Theo, who was very drunk. "He never drinks this much." You whispered back to Daphne. She shrugged. "He caught the stitch. Winner of the game tonight."

You nodded, walking over to Theo and sitting next to him. He immediately grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. "I've been waiting for you all night," Theo said, speaking slowly so his words didn't get slurred.

"I'm sorry. Why'd you drink so much without me?" You asked, tapping softly on his wrist. "I didn't mean to." Theo said, "Won the game, so people had given me a bunch of drinks."

You nodded, allowing Theo to go back to being the life of the party. Enzo sat down next to you, to keep you company as the party continued.

"So, what's your excuse for not being at the game tonight?" Enzo asked.

"That project for Transfiguration. My partner is an idiot who waited last minute to do his part, so I had to help him. I feel bad for missing it." You said, taking a sip of your water.

"Theo was upset that you weren't there. Probably what motivated him to win the game. That boy is obsessed with you," Enzo said, nudging you. You cleared your throat, feeling a sudden sense of nervousness. "We're just friends, Enzo."

"For now." Enzo wiggled his eyebrows. You laughed at him, rolling your eyes.

Did you like Theo? Yeah, but you didn't think he would like you back. He had a lot of girls on him and he could choose any of them. You were so wrapped in your mind and your conversation that you didn't notice that Theo had wandered off until you heard your name being called.

"Take Theo back to his dorm, please!" Blaise pleaded as he and Mattheo held a nearly blacked-out Theo up. You hopped up, grabbing Theo from them.

"Oh, hey, pretty girl." Theo drunkenly grinned at you. You smiled back. "You should've stopped drinking, Teddy."

"Really should've." Mattheo agreed. "You know where his dorm is. Don't worry about cleaning up down here, we got it."

You nodded, saying your goodbyes to everyone before walking upstairs to Theo's room.

"Pretty girl." Theo dragged out the pet name. "Your hair is so soft."

"Thanks, Teddy." You opened the door to his room, switched on the lights, and put him on the bed.

"Come on, let's get you in pajamas." You tapped his nose lightly, making him smile at you.

"You're so pretty, pretty girl. That's why I call you 'pretty girl' because you're so fucking pretty. Sometimes I think you're otherworldly because of it," Theo gushed, falling back on his bed. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the compliments flowed from Theo's mouth.

"Thank you, Theo. Here, put this shirt on." You handed the shirt to Theo, who shook his head no. "I like to be shirtless."

Theo pulled his shirt over his head and threw it in the hamper. You tried your best not to stare at his chest before handing him a pair of pants.

"You're taking good care of me, pretty girl. I wish you could always take care of me. Merlin, I love you so much." Theo spoke again. You felt your eyes widen as you looked at him. "What?" You said softly.

"I love you like I'm so in love with you. I just want to be with you all the time." Theo continued. You cleared your throat, pushing him under the covers. Theo was clearly saying anything to you because he was drunk. If Pansy or Daphne were here, he would probably say the same thing. You forced yourself to repeat that to yourself repeatedly so you could believe it.

"Get some sleep, Theo, goodnight." You switched off his light as you swung his door open. "Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you." Theo said.

You quickly shut the door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. You didn't know how to interpret what had just happened. Theo admitted to being in love with you. Or did he? He was drunk, so he probably wasn't serious. Yeah, he was drunk. You took a deep breath before making your way back downstairs.

Mattheo saw you hurry down the stairs and raised his eyebrow at you, "You good? Is Theo okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. I'm just gonna go back to my dorm," You said. Mattheo eyed you, "What happened?"

"What? Why would anything happen?" You asked, diverting your eyes anywhere but to Mattheo's.

"..."

You sighed, glancing down at your feet, "Theo said he was in love with me."

The room froze as everyone turned their heads to look at you. Suddenly, you felt tiny. "What? Why are you guys staring at me like that?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just...." Daphne glanced at everyone, "We didn't expect Theo to confess that when he was drunk."

"Yeah, I had galleons on an angry confession followed by an angry, passionate kiss," Draco said, causing Pansy to hit him in the arm.

You blinked. Confess? Confess as in.... he's been holding this in for a long time?

"Wait, so he's telling the truth, and you all knew it?" You asked. Everyone made noises in agreement.

"I mean, everyone can see how head over heels he is for you. You were the only one denying it." Blaise said. Your face felt hot, and you shook your head, "I'm going to my dorm."

Everyone laughed, bidding you goodbye.

Theo woke up the next day with a terrible headache.

"Ahh, there's our champion." Blaise's teasing voice caused Theo to groan.

"Why would I ever drink that much?" Theo asked, mainly to himself. Enzo laughed, setting a cup of water and some medicine on Theo's bedside. "I don't know, but it was quite entertaining to see you get taken care of by your pretty girl." Enzo's voice was teasing and light.

Theo's face immediately heated at the idea of acting like a fool in front of you. "Did I do something stupid in front of her?"

Blaise and Enzo shared a look before shrugging. Theo looked at both of them. "What? What did I do? Oh, Merlin, tell me I didn't embarrass myself."

"I wouldn't say you embarrassed yourself," Blaise said.

"But sober Theo definitely wouldn't have confessed to her that he's in love with her," Enzo said.

It took Theo a moment to realize what Enzo had said before his face turned completely red in shame and embarrassment.

"I told her I was in love with her?" Theo groaned loudly. That was not how he pictured confessing to you. Well, he never pictured confessing his feelings to you because he was scared and had no intentions of doing it.

"It's a good thing, don't you think? I mean, she finally knows." Blaise said, "Although she might need some convincing because she thinks you only said it because you were drunk and probably didn't mean it."

Theo hopped out of his bed, finding the nearest t-shirt before slipping on his shoes. He had already confessed how he felt and if it's already out there, there's no point in hiding it.

Theo spirited to your dorm, not muttering a good morning to anyone as he pushed past them. Finally, he got to your dorm and banged on it until he heard your feet shuffling.

"Teddy?" You asked groggily before focusing your eyes on the out-of-breath and frizzled Theo in front of you, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I meant it."

"What?"

There was silence between you two. He knew you knew what he was talking about, so it didn't take long for realization to take over your face.

"I meant it." Theo repeated himself, "Every word I said last night while I was sloppy drunk was true."

"I have been trying to work up the courage to say something about it for the last year or so. Granted, I didn't think it would be while I was drunk."

"How long?" You tilted your head to the side, with a hint of amusement gracing your face.

Theo's face flushed pink, as he knew you were teasing him, as well as being genuinely curious. "Since first year. When I saw you on the train to school."

"You didn't even speak to me until third year."

"I was nervous." Theo let out a breath. "I watched you, though."

You held back a laugh as Theo immediately turned even more red. "That was creepy. I didn't mean it like that! I just— we've shared a lot of classes and— I'm going to shut up."

You stood on your tippy toes, kissing Theo's flushed cheeks. "I've had a crush on you since second year."

"Really?"

You nodded, smiling. "So what now?"

"Um, will you go on a date with me? Maybe next weekend after the quidditch game?" Theo asked, feeling more nervous than ever.

"I would love to, " you smiled. And I won't miss this game, I promise."

"I'm holding you to that." Theo smiled back.

You gave Theo another kiss on the cheek. "It's still early. I'll see you later, okay?"

Theo nodded, and you smiled, closing your door. Theo stayed there for a few more seconds until he realized he probably looked crazy for just smiling at your door.

Who knew getting drunk had some perks?

#theodore nott #slytherin boys #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #theodore nott x reader #jayybugg fics #slytherin #fluff #theo nott x reader

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 1 month ago

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The Best Friend Showdown

Season four had many, many flaws. One of the big ones was the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict where Ladybug starts relying on Alya more and more, basically using her to replace Master Fu. We get a sense that Chat Noir feels inferior to Rena Rouge because of this change, but it’s never directly addressed. The most we get is this conversation from Hack-San:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right.

Which is actually a really weird bit of dialogue because - as far as I can tell - nothing in the episode revealed that Scarabella knew Ladybug's identity. She hands out miraculous all the time and no one knows who she really is. Why would this time be different? Ladybug could just show up in costume, explain what's up, and then hand off the earrings while using yet another miraculous.

Anyway, the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict is “resolved” by Rena Rouge being outed again (and I guess that matters this time), leading her to give up her miraculous so that Gabriel can’t steal it away, which of course leads Gabriel to steal it away and fully disempower Ladybug’s larger team, leaving Chat Noir her only teammate.

How satisfying! This is such good, character-driven story telling!

It’s not. This is plot contrivances to the max with no meaningful character beats, but we’re not here to talk about that. We’re here to do one of my favorite things: gush about a relevant Kim Possible episode! Today’s topic is episode 12 of season one: Pain King vs. Cleopatra, the episode that introduces Kim’s female BFF, Monique!

This was a bit of a shocker for me because I didn’t realize that Kim and Monique weren’t pre-series friends. Turns out that, much like Alya, Monique is a new girl, which isn’t a bad call. This was a nice way to delay Monique’s introduction for a few episodes so that the writers could focus on establishing Kim’s relationship with other key members of the cast like her partner, Ron. Spacing out your intros is the way to go whenever you can pull it off as it’s a kindness to your audience that keeps them from feeling overwhelmed, making it more likely that they’ll remember your cast.

The other, more important similarity between Alya and Monique is that, when Kim’s hero partner and life-long friend finds out about Monique, he is less than thrilled:

Kim: I barely got to see them. Right after I hooked up with Monique, the museum was robbed by some glowing-headed animal guy. Ron: Oh, that's nice. Ron: Wait a minute, who's Monique? Kim New friend, really great. Anyway, the thief stole an enchanted ancient talisman. Ron: Whoa, whoa, back up! How can I not know about a new friend? Kim: I met her at Club Banana, then again at the museum before I chased the glowing robber. Ron: So what's she like? Kim: The robber? Ron: The friend, Kim, the "new friend".

Throughout the episode, Kim and Monique continue to bond without Ron, leaving Ron feeling left out:

Ron: Seein' a pattern here, Rufus: Kim does her thing, I do my thing, and pretty soon - we're doing different things.

Which leads him to get a little territorial:

Kim Ron! What are you doing here? Ron: Can I dine with my best friend and her new friend? Kim: Uuh, Ron, Monique, and vice versa. Ron: Bearclaw? Monique: No, thanks, I'm vegetarian. Ron: Uhm, I'm pretty sure it's imitation bear? Kim: She's joking, Ron. Ron: Good one, hahaha, ha, good one. So, did Kim tell you that I'm her sidekick? Cause that role is definitely taken by me. Monique: Riiiight. Well, in... you know I better get to class. Later, Kim. Um, n-nice meeting you, Ron. Ron: Likewise, I'm sure! Kim: What is your problem? You're acting really weird. Ron: Well, let's see. You went to the museum with Monique, not me. Monique was with you this morning, not me. Hmm, pattern? Kim: Yeah. You. Weird. Ron: No, we're drifting apart because you're excluding me. Kim: I am not excluding you. It's just that you and Monique are... different.

Noticing some similarities to Miraculous here?

So how does Kim Possible resolve this conflict?

Well, the plot of this episode resolves around Kim Possible’s version of professional wrestling, the GWA. There’s a competition going on that Kim has no interest in watching (mood), but when Kim mentions the GWA to Monique:

Monique: Why didn't you bring [Ron] along? Kim: Unless someone put a waiter in a headlock, this is definitely not Ron's scene. Besides, he had a date with "Steel Toe". Monique: He scored tickets to Mayhem in Middleton? The GWA rocks! Kim: What?

It turns out that Monique and Ron have a shared interest! Multiple shared interests, in fact! Interests that Kim does not share:

Monique: You know, I still can't believe you met Pain King and Steel Toe. Ron: I can't believe you're into wrestling. Kim: I can't believe I know either one of you.

By the end of the episode, the conflict is resolved not with Kim having to pick a BFF or with Monique somehow being demoted, but by showing that this didn’t need to be a conflict at all. Kim can have multiple close friends that she shares different interests with without any of those friends being lesser. Those friends can, in turn, have their own friendships that don’t always involve her.

It’s a genuinely lovely resolution that makes me love this little friend group because it now has added complexity. Monique and Ron are friends in their own right! Kim is not the center of the universe in spite of her main character status!

I also love that Kim isn’t vilified for having other friends or portrayed as constantly leaving Ron out of things that he'd want to do in favor of Monique. Ron genuinely would not enjoy most of the things that the girls love to do together. At the same time, Ron’s feeling aren’t treated as totally irrational either and Kim even admits to ditching him. It’s a genuine, complex conflict that is super common when someone enters a new relationship be it platonic or romantic.

Obviously Kim Possible’s version of this conflict feels far less complex than Miraculous’ because Kim Possible understood that Ron should be Kim’s one-and-only partner, so his position was really never threatened. Monique does not want to be an action hero and is never given the sort narrative weight that elevates her to Ron’s level or higher, but that doesn't matter. The basic lesson here is still relevant and super important for the intended audience of both of these shows.

There did not need to be a Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict that never got properly resolved. Miraculous could have made these two friends and no, Scarabella doesn't count because Chat Noir has no idea that Scarabella is Rena Rouge/Furtive. Their relationship ended at the end of Hack-San. He didn't even know that Rena Furtive was a thing until she was in the process of being benched and that's the problem.

Kim Possible is not a team show, Miraculous is, and yet Kim Possible has better team dynamics than Miraculous. Monique could have joined Kim's team at the end of Pain King vs. Cleopatra and it would have felt natural because both Kim and Ron had welcomed Monique and formed a genuine bond with her. This is a true friend group that Miraculous can only dream of even though they've been adding new superheroes since season two.

We're going into a season with a full, massive team and yet that team has no established dynamics on the hero side. It's not a functional team! None of these characters have meaningful relationships with each other as heroes save for Alya and Nino since they know each other’s secret identities. The only relationships Miraculous cares about are the various romances and everyone's relationship to Marinette and everyone suffers for it.

The show would not have been harmed by Rena Rouge, Chat Noir, and Ladybug being a team. It was the thing I kept think after watching the Kim Possible episode. Since the team is the end game, why aren't we seeing them? It would have been so nice to have Hack-San end with Ladybug introducing Chat Noir to Rena Furtive instead of a nonsense discussion about an issue the episode didn't even address.

#ml writing critical #ml writing salt #kim possible #marinette deserves better #adrien deserves better #alya deserves better #you said you wanted more KP gushing so here you go!#I was originally going to wait until my ask list died down but who knows when that will happen #And I wanted to do something a little more positive because I like gushing!#I'm critical because miraculous is bad not because I like being critical

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