#but yeah also just the way he’s curled up against him

[soldateins]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Arthur Morgan NSFW Headcanons (Mid Honour) ⟡ ݁₊ .

I wrote these to help with my writing, trying to figure out what Arthur's like, and I really liked these so I thought I'd share 'em! Go wild! Female!Reader btw ⁠♡ This has 18+ smut in it, mdni x

⟡ He's actually a bit of a challenge to turn on. He may be a bit touch-starved but he's controlled. He loves a bit of PDA and showing you off, but he isn't one to get hard instantly. He can deal with sultry glances and smirks from you, if anything it makes him chuckle to himself and shake his head.

⟡ In order to get a more pronounced reaction from him, you have to tease your underclothes or brush your ass against his hips as you make your way past him in camp. He's a lot more receptive to physicality. And sound, if you run up behind him, wrap your arms around his midriff, yank him down a bit and whisper in his ear, he's gone.

⟡ He tends to end up smothering you if you're smaller. Sometimes by accident, sometimes not.

⟡ He starts off more reserved but as he grows hotter, his language and sounds start to slip. A "Jesus..." here and a "Shit..." there. He'll start groaning, his nose scrunching, baring his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. The majority of his sounds are heavy breaths, grunts, groans, the occasional growl. When he comes, he'll sometimes let out stuttering "Oh-"'s that get louder before melting into laboured panting.

⟡ But he'll also murmur silly, cheesy things in your ear through his ragged breaths. "You make me believe in Heaven." "I musta done somethin' right in life to have you fall in my lap."

⟡ He sweats like a pig. Post-orgasm, he's huffing and grabbing his shirt from where he threw it to wipe his face and neck.

⟡ He loves pleasuring his partner, and looooves eating women out. Kissing, sucking, lapping, making you squeal and whimper. He savours your sounds, wanting more and more. He'll keep at it until you're overstimulated and batting at his head, or until he has to come up for air, beard soaked. He'd happily drown in you.

⟡ And when you give him head? He's a little nervous having the focus be on him but once you start, he's sucking in shaky breaths, eyes fluttering shut, jaw slack, in heaven. He'll grab at the air a little, fingers twitching before he paws at your head gently. He'll cradle your face in his palms and moan when your dreamy gaze meets his whilst you lap at the underside of his cock. He'll thrust into your mouth nice and slow, his veins flooding with arousal and his muscles tingling with utter disbelief that he's lucked out so highly with you.

⟡ He's an ass man, but just loves your body in general. He loves gettin' a handful of you; Ass, hips, waist, thighs, breasts, all of you. "You're a first-rate stunner." He'll growl softly, a smirk curling his lips, his thick fingers dipping into your warm flesh, "My girl."

⟡ If he needs you to be quiet during sex, he'll shove his neckerchief in your mouth out of necessity. "Sh, shh, shhh, darlin'. Can't be wakin' up the whole camp with those pretty sounds of yours. Here now, open up."

⟡ If he's sans neckerchief, he lets you bite his shoulders or have you suck on his fingers. "You gotta keep quiet, sweetheart." He'll whisper against your skin as he cups the back of your head and brings your mouth to his shoulder or pushes two thick fingers into your mouth.

⟡ He'll instinctively support you; holding your hips, wrapping his arms around your waist, grabbing your shoulders to stabilise you. He loves being pressed against you, feeling your heart against his chest or back, relishing the connection.

⟡ He's also always checking that you're enjoying yourself, whether it be by asking you outright or watching you for signs of discomfort. "That feel good?" "Y'alright, darlin'?" "Looks like that feels good, hm?" "Yeah? Like that?"

⟡ He gets unsure about leaving marks on you via biting, sucking, spanking, not wanting to hurt you too much or mar your skin. You have to convince him you want it. He feels a bit guilty until he sees how much you enjoy it. And he can't deny the way the sounds you make when he does it strikes lightning through his loins. "You really are a little hellcat, ain'chya?"

⟡ He doesn't mind being marked himself though, not at all, doesn't matter. He's marked all over anyway, what's one more mark? Especially from you.

⟡ He love love loves kisses. All over him, all over you. If you pepper kisses about his face and chest, he'll very quickly flush a gorgeous crimson and look at you, dazed. He'll pull you into his lap and kiss you all over until you're laughing loudly.

⟡ He'll click his tongue at you gently like click click click "Sh, shh, shhh. Easy, girl, easy."

⟡ He'll also tut at you if you're being bratty or feeling overwhelmed. Tut, tut, "Now now, girly. Don't get shrewish with me." or tut, tut, "Oh, sweetheart. I know, I know, c'mon, sweetheart. Keep going, just a little longer."

⟡ He's a soft dom/switch mostly, but if you can get him aroused enough, he relaxes into being a little more dominating.

⟡ He occasionally enjoys being dominated but more so enjoys either a relatively equal sexual dynamic or he naturally falls into a soft dom, caring, cooing role.

⟡ He's not immune to losing himself in the moment, though. He'll breathlessly mutter a "God..." or his breath will hitch like he's been winded before his movements will become rougher, more desperate, like this blissful feeling will slip through his fingers if he doesn't grab you. "C'mere." "Gimme more, girly." "Un-unh, don'chu move now."

⟡ He naturally praises you, not giving it much thought other than wanting you to feel incredible. "That's it, darlin'." "Lookatchu." "Good girl." "Atta girl." "Ain'tchu a picture." "Pretty lady, takin' it all." "That's it, girly, keep on, keep on." "Yeah, more'a'that, baby. Oh, you're so good."

⟡ And when you praise him? Most of the time, he'll duck his head down and wince. "Naw, shut up." "Quit all that." Before trying to divert the focus back onto you by squeezing your ass or rubbing your waist.

⟡ But if he's lost in pleasure? It'll drive him mad. His grip will tighten on you and he'll hiss and huff. He won't respond to the praise verbally but he'll flush red and let out soft "Oh"'s as he holds onto you for dear life.

⟡ If you put his hat on, he will automatically want to have you ride him (But not before barking out a laugh). "Y'think y'can be a cowgirl without ridin', hm?" He'll say before spreading his legs and patting his thighs, "Giddy up, girly." He'll say with a sarcastic lilt, his eyes aflame with excitement.

⟡ If he's particularly tired, you can ride him hard enough to draw a whine from him. His head will fall back, his hands falling from you, his hips jerking into you messily. "Oh, darlin'."

Hope y'all enjoy! I love writing Arthur smut ✗♡✗♡

[girlyrafe]

──── ꜱᴍᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ...ᴍᴏʀᴇ .ᐟ

ᡣ𐭩 ❝ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ¡ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ⟡ ݁₊ ❞

⌗ with chris sturniolo .ᐟ.ᐟ

ᝰ summary .ᐟ You convince Chris to let you smoke weed; you know it has some effects. I mean, you've seen it on him enough times to know, but it seems to be having a physical effect on you that Chris has never experienced.

₊ ⊹ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

The dim glow of the room wraps around you like a secret, the air heavy with the tang of incense and the sweet, sharp scent of weed. Chris is perched on the edge of the bed, one leg stretched out all casual while the other’s bent under him. He’s watching you, eyes glinting with that teasing edge that always makes your stomach flip.

You’re sitting there too, legs tucked under you, trying not to squirm under his gaze. He’s got a blunt in his hands, rolling it up like it’s second nature, his fingers moving with this lazy confidence that somehow makes your heart beat faster.

“You sure about this?” Chris asks, his voice low, smooth, laced with just enough playfulness to make your cheeks heat. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you tonight—like he’s trying to figure you out, but also like he already knows more than you’re ready to admit.

Your heart’s racing, but there’s no turning back now. You’ve been replaying this moment in your head for weeks, the way just being around him makes you feel safe and electric all at once. You want this—want him—more than you can say out loud. “Yeah… I trust you,” you murmur, your voice softer than you’d like, betraying the nerves you’re trying to bury.

Chris grins at you, slow and warm, his eyes dragging over you in a way that makes your skin tingle. He pats his lap, smirking just a little. “C’mere, sit with me.”

You hesitate for half a second before scooting over, and he pulls you in, settling you so your back’s pressed to his chest. His arms naturally wrap around your waist, and you can feel the heat of him, the way his presence seems to fill every inch of space around you.

The lighter flicks, a quick flash of orange illuminating his face as he lights the blunt. You’re mesmerized by the way he moves—the easy rise and fall of his chest, the way his lips part just slightly as he inhales. It’s all so casual for him, but for you, it’s a lot. You can’t take your eyes off him.

Chris exhales slow, the smoke curling between you, and then he leans in, so close you feel his breath ghosting against your ear. Before you can process what’s happening, he blows the smoke directly into your mouth, his lips just barely brushing your skin. The sensation hits deep, leaves you breathless in a way that has nothing to do with the smoke.

Your pulse is wild now, your whole body buzzing from how close he is, from the way his hands rest so casually on your waist like it’s nothing. Except it’s not nothing—not to you. You lean into him a little more, trying to play it cool even though you’re anything but.

“Take a hit,” he murmurs, holding the blunt out to you, his grin full of mischief and something else you can’t quite name. Your fingers brush his as you take it, and even that small touch feels like too much.

You bring it to your lips, copying what you saw him do, though your hands are shaky enough to make you blush. The smoke fills your lungs, heavy and unfamiliar, and you hold it in as long as you can before letting it out in a slow exhale.

Chris chuckles, low and rich, the sound wrapping around you like a blanket. “Not bad for a first timer,” he teases, his lips brushing your ear again. His voice has dropped, deeper now, and it makes your breath catch.

You take another hit, this time with more confidence, your lips wrapping around the blunt as your eyes drift closed. The smoke floods your lungs, warm and heady, settling into your veins like a soft glow. As you exhale, the world softens, its edges blurring until there’s only you and Chris. The room spins lazily, a hazy circle of light and shadows, and you find yourself leaning further into him. His chest is solid against your back, grounding you as his hands rest gently on your sides, steady and deliberate.

“You’re kinda cute like this,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, sending a shiver through you. His lips brush against your ear, and the soft graze of his cheek against yours feels almost too intimate. His words are playful, but there’s something beneath them—a quiet intensity that makes your pulse stumble. “Sure you don’t want another hit?” His grin is unmistakable in his tone. “You look like you’re having a good time.”

You bite your lip, fighting the blush threatening to give you away. It’s not just the weed coursing through your system; it’s him. The nearness of him, the way his voice settles in your chest, the heat of his hands, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“I—uh, yeah, sure,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as he hands the blunt back to you. Your fingers brush his, and the contact feels electric, sharp and fleeting, but it lingers in the air between you. You inhale again, the smoke curling through your lungs as your mind swims, and your heart races faster than before.

His hand glides up your side, slow and deliberate, his fingers trailing over the fabric of your shirt. The touch sends a spark down your spine, and you shiver before you can stop yourself. He notices, of course he notices. His lips curve into a grin you can feel without looking. “You get even cuter when you’re flustered,” he whispers, his voice smooth and teasing, but there’s a softness there, too, like he doesn’t mind how vulnerable you are around him.

You turn your head slightly, meeting his eyes, and the air between you crackles. His gaze is heavy, dark, and impossibly warm, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. “Stop teasing me,” you murmur, trying to sound annoyed, but your words come out shaky, almost pleading.

Chris chuckles, low and husky, the sound curling around you. His fingers brush against the side of your neck, his touch featherlight and maddening. “I can’t help it,” he whispers, his lips hovering so close to yours you can feel the heat of his breath. “Not when you’re this cute.”

The room feels impossibly small now, the haze thick and charged. For a moment, you hesitate, the tension pulling taut between you like a string about to snap. Then you exhale the smoke, your lungs trembling as you close the distance, your lips finally meeting his.

The kiss is tentative at first, soft and searching, like testing the edges of something you’ve both been afraid to ruin. But it deepens quickly, the hesitation melting away as your mouths move together, hungry and deliberate. His hands find the curve of your back as you turn around without breaking the kiss, pulling you closer, and the weight of his touch makes your head spin more than the weed ever could.

It’s not just the haze in the air or the warmth in your veins—it’s him. The way his kiss feels like a promise, the way his touch anchors you, the way you’ve been holding this inside for so long, and now it’s finally spilling out.

And as his lips press against yours, slow and deliberate, you realize you’re not the only one who’s been waiting for this. Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every unspoken word—it’s all been building to this moment.

Maybe Chris has been feeling it too? or maybe its just the weed? right?

©GIRLYRAFE

[gabstertrapster]

⟡ - you don’t have to pretend - 성화

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

• synopsis - struggling with insecurities you try to hide your feelings from seonghwa but he sees right through you, offering gentle reassurance and unwavering love, determined to make you believe your perfect just as you are…

• pairing - bf! Park Seonghwa x gn! chubby! reader.

• genre - comfort, fluff (like so sweet ugh)

• warnings - talks about body image struggles (lemme know if I’ve missed any:))

word count - 1.3k

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You had always been good at pretending.

A smile here, a casual laugh there just enough to make sure no one noticed the thoughts that had been weighing you down. The insecurities that crept in when you looked in the mirror. The way you tugged at your clothes, trying to make them sit differently, to make yourself smaller. Seonghwa hadn’t said anything, but he had noticed. Of course, he had. He always did.

Tonight, the two of you were curled up on the couch, a soft movie playing in the background. His arm was around your shoulders, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm. But he could feel it - the way you were just a little too stiff, the way your laughs didn’t reach your eyes.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he murmured after a while, lifting then tilting his head to look at you.

You smiled, brushing it off. “Just tired.”

Seonghwa hummed, unconvinced. His fingers trailed down, gently brushing against your hand before lacing his fingers with yours. “Are you?”

You swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. Just one of those days.”

That was usually enough to make someone drop the subject. But not Seonghwa. He was patient. He didn’t push. But he also didn’t let go.

For a moment, he just held your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, comforting strokes. Then, after a while, he spoke soft, careful.

“You’ve been acting different lately,” he said. “You smile, but it doesn’t feel the same. You laugh, but it doesn’t sound right.” His voice was gentle, but firm. “You’re pretending, aren’t you?”

Your breath hitched slightly, but you forced another small smile. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Seonghwa turned slightly so he could face you better, his soft eyes searching yours. “You don’t have to tell me right now,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “But please… don’t pretend with me.”

That was what broke you.

Your shoulders tensed, your throat tightening as you looked away. “I just…” You swallowed, your voice barely audible. “I don’t feel good about myself lately.”

Seonghwa didn’t say anything - he just let you talk.

“I look at myself, and all I see are the things I wish I could change,” you admitted, your fingers curling slightly against his. “I feel… too much. Like if I ate less, if I lost a little weight, maybe I’d look better. Maybe I’d feel better.”

Seonghwa’s grip on your hand tightened slightly. Not in anger, but in quiet heartbreak.

“Y/N…” His voice was pained, but when you finally glanced up at him, all you saw in his expression was warmth. Love.

Without hesitation, he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin like you were something fragile, something precious. “You don’t need to change to be beautiful,” he murmured. “Not to me. Not to anyone who loves you.”

Your lip trembled. “But-”

“No.” His voice was firm, but his touch stayed soft. “You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re just right. You are soft, you are warm, and you are everything I could ever want.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the sting of tears. But Seonghwa only pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you like he could shield you from your own thoughts.

“I love you exactly as you are,” he whispered into your hair cuddling into your side, you feel his warm breaths on your scalp.

Neither of you spoke for a while. There was no rush. Just the quiet hum of the movie in the background and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. His fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, slow and steady, like he was grounding you in the moment, in him.

After a moment, he pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so you would look at him. His gaze was warm, but serious.

“Tell me the truth,” he said softly. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

You hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “A while,” you admitted. “It comes and goes, but lately… it’s been harder to ignore.” His expression flickered with something unreadable something between concern and quiet frustration, not at you, but at the fact that you had been carrying this alone.

“I wish you had told me sooner,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his dewy eyes held yours soft and full of care, glistening from the tv’s light. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you have to go through this alone.”

You sighed, looking down. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Seonghwa exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head before pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “You are never a burden,” he whispered against your skin. “Not to me. Not ever.”

A lump formed in your throat, emotion swelling in your chest. “I just-” You swallowed, trying to find the words. “It’s hard to see myself the way you do.”

Seonghwa’s arms tightened around you, as if he could hold you together through sheer will alone. “Then let me help,” he whispered. “Let me remind you every single day how beautiful you are. How loved you are.” Your eyes burned with unshed tears, but this time, it wasn’t from sadness, it was from the overwhelming warmth of being seen, of being loved despite the insecurities that had made you want to shrink away.

Seonghwa pulled back just enough to meet your gaze again, pressing a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. Your lips curled towards your eyes your cheeks doubling in size. Seonghwa couldn’t help but squish your plump cheeks ever so delicately shaking your face side to side then pecking the compressed lips. “There she is… my sweet angels back” he teased reshaping your cheeks. You couldn’t help but giggle, ears turning a light shade of pink as you his back into his chest. Seonghwa chuckled at the adorable reaction running his fingers through your hair. “God I love you”

You raise your head loose strands of hair getting tucked behind your ears by your boyfriend. “Are you sure… you love me?” Yes you just got comforted by seonghwa but the thoughts still lingered. You knew Seonghwa loved you, he showed it in a million little ways. But a voice in the back of your mind still whispered doubts.

Seonghwa leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “I love the way you laugh when you think no one’s listening,” he whispered. A kiss to your cheek. “I love the way you brighten my world just by being in it.” Another kiss, this time to the tip of your nose, making your breath hitch. “And I love you. every single part of you. Nothing and no one could ever change that.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes, and Seonghwa smiled, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks as if to catch them before they could fall.

“So, tell me,” he murmured, his lips just a breath away from yours. “What do I have to do to make you believe me?”

Your heart pounded as you searched his eyes full of love, devotion, and something deeper, something unshakable. And in that moment, you realized… maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to fight these thoughts alone.

“Just stay,” you whispered.

Seonghwa’s lips curled into a soft smile before he closed the distance, pressing a tender, heart-melting kiss to yours.

“Always”

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a/n - okay yo so this is my first ever story… I hope you liked it and I’m looking forward to improve and write more. Mwah mwah thank you for reading 💋

[indycinders]

Pure smut cause my uterus is trying to kill me.

Maybe a bit of praise kinks in there? Jealousy? Idk it's Caleb lmao. Enjoy.

P.S. not canon to their actual story in my head, maybe it's a dream Caleb had, who knows uvu Also obviously pre-explosion era.

Edit: forgot to add the title aaaaa

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Above the Clouds"

“It was nice of your roommates to give us some time alone,” Cinders remarked as she walked over to Caleb and sat down between his legs, a towel on her head and wearing one of Caleb's old shirts over a pair of shorts.

They'd been coming back from a festival in the park when it started raining, both of them running to his dorm unable to stop themselves from getting soaked to the bone. Caleb urged Cinders to take a shower first so she wouldn't get sick, and while she was doing so, he negotiated with his roommates to leave. He was out fifty bucks, but that was nothing compared to the silence and solitude of a night in with her.

He wouldn't have to worry about any of them making suggestive comments towards her, or flirting with her. Nope, she was all his for the night.

“Yeah, they have a thing they're going to tonight,” he said, grabbing her by the hips and scooting her closer. He reached for the towel around her head and started drying her hair as she settled in and turned her attention to the small TV in his room. He had one of her favorite shows playing.

When he was done drying her hair, he picked up the brush and began pulling it through the unbelievably soft burgundy strands. He could smell the shampoo wafting up to his nose and he felt that familiar ache in his lower abdomen. The tips of his ears burned as he shifted slightly.

“A thing?” she echoed. “I didn't ruin your hangout plans with your friends, did I?”

Cinders tilted her head back enough to just barely see Caleb above her. He smiled at how adorable she was and shook his head quickly. “No, no. I'm not into what they do anyway,” he reassured her, nudging her head back into place.

“Really?” she hummed, her tone skeptical. “Gideon says differently.”

He felt his eye twitch. “Since when did you speak with Gideon?” Enough to refer to him so casually, too.

“Oh, it was a bit earlier when I was waiting for you,” she explained. “Do… do you know if he has a girlfriend?”

His hand gripped the brush handle tightly and he had to make an effort to keep his motions gentle and soft and not fueled by his irritation. “Uh, I don't know. Why? Do you like him?” he winced, noticing his tone sounding a bit demanding.

Cinders shrugged, shifting in her seat between his thighs, still watching the show on the TV. “Mm, I don't know. He asked for my number earlier. Guess I just want to make sure I'm not giving it to some player,” she laughed a little.

Caleb's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in his chest. No, this wasn't right. She wasn't supposed to get interested in anyone. Before he could stop himself, he put the brush down and pulled her flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around her waist.

“Oof!” Cinders let out a surprised huff of air, wiggling in his arms but it was clear Caleb wasn't going to let go. “Caleb…?”

“You can't-” he choked out, clearing his throat. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in and trying to compose himself. “You're not allowed to date my friends.”

“Caleb-” she squirmed again but he only tightened his hold.

“I'm serious, pipsqueak. No. You've gone this long without seeing anyone, why now?” his voice was strained and off-sounding.

“I-I don't know, I was just wondering,” she mumbled, feeling her face heat up. The way he was holding her like he was afraid to let go felt different. “I won't date any of your friends, Cal, okay?”

“No one,” he mumbled, nuzzling into her neck. His hands slipped under his shirt that she wore, feeling her soft stomach. He felt her shiver but she stilled under his touch. His lips curled into a smirk against her neck. “No one should be able to hold you like this. Touch you like this.”

One of his hands caressed upward, his calloused fingertips brushing against the soft underside of her breasts. He could feel the goosebumps rising to the surface of her skin. His other hand slid underneath the loose shorts she wore, his fingers brushing against the coarse yet soft trimmed hair on her mound.

“C-Caleb, what-?” Cinders sucked in a breath as his long fingers stroked the outside of her lips, sending tingles straight to her core and igniting that delicious burning sensation.

“It should be me, Kit,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling aside her hair to get at her neck. “The one touching you like this. Showing you how to feel good. The only one you think of like this…”

His mouth pressed hot kisses against her neck. He felt Cinders lean back against him, tilting her head to the side and letting him continue. He took it as her consent, his left hand squeezing and teasing her breasts and nipples, eliciting sweet little whimpers and gasps from her plush lips.

It wasn't until the index finger of his right hand slipped between her moistened folds, gently stroking along her slit until he circled his finger around that precious little nerve bundle, that she let out anything resembling a moan.

And Jesus Christ it went straight to his cock, throbbing and aching against the fabric of his pajama pants. He groaned and sank his teeth into the crook of her neck, sucking a mark into her pale skin. “My sweet little pipsqueak,” he nibbled on her earlobe. “Keep making those noises for me, okay? I'm going to help you feel good, honey.”

Cinders bit her lip and nodded, relaxing back into him some more. His hand splayed across her chest, holding her to his own, while his other hand continued to swirl around her clit and tease her entrance. When he started inserting his finger inside of her, her knees bent and she tried to close her legs at the intrusion.

Caleb used his Evol to force them apart again, spreading her wide. He even pulled her shorts off the rest of the way. “Caleb,” Cinders whined, turning her head to glare at him.

“Tell me no,” he said, his eyes half-lidded as he continued to slowly finger her. “Say the word and I'll stop, Kitty.”

Her eyes studied him for a moment, her face flushing as her body responded to his touch. “I want it,” she practically whined instead, panting a little.

His cock twitched almost violently against her ass when he heard her say that. “Everything or just this?” he nibbled along her jaw, working his finger in and out of her slowly, getting her used to the feeling.

She let out another moan when he inserted a second finger, unable to move her legs due to his Evol, so her hands moved up behind her, grabbing his shoulders. “E-everything,” her voice was breathy and shaking. “I want everything.”

Caleb could feel her nails digging into his skin, groaning softly. He bit her again, sucking another harsh mark into her skin. She was his, and he'd leave a reminder for her and everyone else. “Good girl,” he murmured.

The pace of his fingers pumping in and out of her steadily increased, and she squirmed against him, the melody of her pleasure lifting into the air around them. The TV show was forgotten. Only they existed in this room, this moment.

“Ahh, fuck,” Caleb groaned again, unable to take the throbbing ache any longer. “Kit, do you think you're ready for me?”

“Mhm,” she panted.

He didn't need any more confirmation before he lifted her up, freed himself from his pants, and guided himself to her entrance. His thick head was already seeping with precum, eager to delve deep inside of her.

“Tell me to stop if it hurts,” he grunted through clenched teeth, holding himself back from just ramming up into her.

“Okay.”

A guttural moan bubbled up from his chest as he began lowering her slowly onto his cock, her folds stretching and squeezing around him. When he hit resistance, he took his time, working himself in and out of her. He was gentle, he was sweet, kissing her and whispering sweet praises.

Caleb knew it was her first time. It was his, too. And he wanted her to feel good, and loved, and everything that he felt about her. “Good girl, doing so well for me, aren't you, Kit?” he crooned softly, nuzzling his face against hers.

“You coulda told me you were fuckin’ huge,” she huffed, pouting. Her hands were on his thighs, helping to hold herself up.

He chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Where's the fun in that?” he teased. “You're taking me well, anyway.”

“You're so crude,” she mumbled.

“And who's the one that said she wanted everything?” he retorted playfully.

He worked past the barrier, earning a slight whimper of pain from her. “Shh, babygirl, I've got you,” he kissed her cheek, jaw, down her neck, whispering praises in between.

“I'm okay,” she whimpered softly, her hips shifting, wanting to keep going. This staying still business was only driving her insane.

“Ready? Just relax and let me do it,” he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Let me know if you want to change anything.”

Cinders nodded. With his hands on her hips, he began to set a steady rhythm between them, guiding her and rocking his own hips up into her. His own sounds of pleasure mixed with hers. Soon, he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her to him while his other hand slipped down.

He almost came just from feeling his own cock inside of her with his fingers. He slowed down a bit, wanting to savor the moment, and found her little nub of pleasure again. He rubbed at her clit and continued rutting up into her.

“Caleb- haaa- please, I need more,” Cinders begged. “Faster.”

He obeyed her demand, thrusting into her quicker, sinking his cock deep within her and moaning at the way she squeezed around him so fucking deliciously. “God, you feel so good, Kitty,” he panted. “Just like I imagined. Better even.”

The squelching noises from their mixed juices, along with their cries of passion, could only be described as perverted. “Cal- please- I need-” Cinders whimpered and panted, unable to complete a coherent sentence.

But he knew what she meant. Caleb's fingers on her clit applied more pressure, rubbing circles and driving her closer to that sweet peak. He shifted their position, lifting her with him as he bent her over the coffee table, fucking into her with more purpose.

“I know- what you need, babygirl,” he grunted with his efforts. He shifted his angle and suddenly she cried out the moment he hit that sweet spot inside of her.

She clenched around him so tightly, there was no hope for him. He let out another moan, deep from within his chest, his hips jerking and stuttering as his hands moved to clench her hips, pulling her back against him. “Ah, fuck, Cinders-!” he gasped her name.

She was boneless and feeling like jelly on the table as he pumped his hips forward, fucking his warm cum deeper inside of her, hitting her sweet spot and overstimulating them both. With a soft groan, he finally pulled himself free and collapsed over her, resting his weight on her back.

“Kitty,” he murmured after a few seconds of catching his breath. He lifted his hand and brushed her hair to the side to look at her face. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm,” she hummed, her eyes opening part way to look at him. She smiled a little. “I'm good, bunny.”

Jesus, that silly nickname of hers that he absolutely loved went right to his dick and he could already feel himself getting hard again. But he didn't want to push her too much tonight. “C’mon,” he got to his feet, fixing himself before lifted her into his arms. Caleb planted a sweet kiss on her forehead. “We need another shower.”

[satorella]

“𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮”

𝐑𝐞𝐨 has been coming into the coffee shop you worked at, at least twice a day. You thought he either really loved your shop’s coffee beans… or he was just a caffeine addict.

But unbeknownst to you, he really only comes to see you…

“Good morning, Mr. Mikage! The usual?” You smiled up at him. His heart skipped a beat when you said his name. For the past month he had been coming into the shop, he had never actually heard you say it. It was always one of the other barista’s who would call out for his order. He nodded, “Yes please. And whatever scone flavor you guys have today.” He pulls out his wallet. “Sure thing!” You rang up his order and handed him his receipt. He took the receipt, and just stared at it. He should just ask you out on a date already… or at least ask for your number. He fidgeted with the receipt nervously for a moment. You smiled politely, “Need anything else?” After a moment of contemplating, he opened his mouth to speak, “Um… I don’t mean to bother, but… could I ask you something?” “Of course!” He had to at least TRY to ask you out. He was a soccer player after all, wasn’t he supposed to be fearless? Plus, he was the heir of the Mikage Corporation. A billionaire. He should be able to ask a pretty girl out and not be afraid of rejection. “Would you… give me your phone number?” You blinked up at him, a light shade of pink coloring your cheeks. “M-My number?” Reo immediately started to internally panic. He swallowed down his anxiety, and managed to stay calm. “Yeah… I-I mean, only if you want. I just… um… I go here a lot because I… I really like the coffee. But also because I…” Fuck fuck fuck. His palms were starting to sweat. What was so hard about confessing that he thought you were pretty? That he wanted to get to know you? Luckily for him, you got the hint and chuckled. “Say no more. Here…” You printed out a plain piece of receipt paper and wrote your number down.

Weeks turned into a couple of months, and before you knew it, the two of you had become an official couple. Neither of you had ever been in a relationship you could genuinely call “healthy”, but things with you were different. They were perfect.

Currently, he was at your apartment. He cooked you dinner earlier, (he learned how to cook just for you), and now the two of you were cuddling on the couch watching a horror movie. He smiled and planted a kiss on top of your head as you snuggled up to him; pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around you. For a moment, he tried paying attention to the movie… but he just couldn’t. Not when your scent was filling his nostrils and he could feel your skin against his. You curled into him more, and tilted your head back to look up at him with soft eyes. Reo looked down at you, and the moment your eyes met, a tingle of electricity shot through him. You two have been dating for months now, yet he still couldn’t get enough of the way you looked at him. He lifted a hand to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, and then his thumb gently caressed your cheek. “I love you, Reo.” You said in a low voice, full of contentment. He smiled, and his heart leapt in his chest. He still couldn’t believe such a perfect, beautiful girl like you could genuinely love someone as spoiled as him. But that was a thought for later. Right now… he was in the moment with you, and there was nothing else in the world he cared about. “I love you too.” He whispered back to you, leaning down to pepper gentle kisses on your lips, cheeks, jawline, and down your neck; making you giggle and squeal.

“Let me show you just how much.”

You were, without a doubt, his new dream…

�� 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[whimsicalpolitical]

wait im going crazy i need a ross smut when he's drunk after some big party like a wedding or smth like that, and he's all cute and cuddly but also horny for you and wants to marry you but also fuck you thank you that's all

okay okayy, combining this with the first ever subby!ross of me

you’re seated outside at a long wooden table with matty, george, and ross. the three of them are in the middle of one of their usual arguments, but ross is far drunker than usual, his deep, rumbling laugh getting louder and louder with every word matty says. it’s the kind of laugh that makes everyone else laugh, too, infectious and warm, even if you don’t know what’s so funny.

“you’re talking shit, mate,” ross laughs, “that’s not how it went at all. i was there. i saw you knock him out.”

“bollocks!” matty shoots back, “you’re just trying to make me look bad. fucking dickhead started bitching about something.”

ross smirks at him but doesn’t bother replying, instead leaning into you even further until his forehead brushes against your shoulder. it’s sweet, the way he seems to gravitate toward you instinctively, his hand never once leaving your thigh. you glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your lips curling into a fond smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and slightly unfocused gaze.

“you’re the worst drunk,” you murmur, glancing at him with an amused smile as matty throws his hands up in frustration, clearly losing the argument to an unbothered ross.

ross grins at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and glassy. “nah. best drunk. you love it.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t deny it. you do love it, the way he gets clingy and affectionate, his inhibitions melting away until all that’s left is his unfiltered adoration for you.

after a while, you stand, leaning into ross’s ear to whisper, “i’m gonna use the bathroom real quick.”

ross’s head snaps up immediately, his arm tightening around you like he’s afraid to let you go. “alright then, let’s go.”

“ross,” you say, exasperated but laughing. “i’ll be back in two minutes.”

“definitely not,” he insists, already standing unsteadily. “i’m coming with you.”

before you can argue, he’s taking your hand, his fingers warm and slightly clammy as he laces them with yours. matty and george exchange knowing looks but say nothing, clearly enjoying the show.

“this place is fucking posh,” he mumbles as you approach the bathrooms, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the sleek, modern design. he stops dead in his tracks, peering at one of the doors like it’s offended him personally. “is that… is that only for one person?”

you bite back a laugh, nodding. “yeah, ross,“

he lets out an incredulous huff, shaking his head. “ridiculous. and it’s this big?”

“you’re drunk,” you say, grinning as you gently tug him toward the door. “wait here, alright? i’ll be two minutes.”

he grumbles something under his breath but doesn’t let go of your hand until you give him a pointed look. when you finally emerge, he’s leaning against the wall, his long frame looking entirely out of place in the too-fancy hallway. the moment he sees you, his face lights up, and he’s on you in an instant, his hands finding your waist as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“missed you,” he mumbles, his lips trailing down to your temple.

“did you?” you laugh.

“mhm,” he hums, “loads.”

ross hastily pulls back and raises his eyebrows, pushing the bathroom door back open and trying to tug you inside.

“ross,” you laugh, your voice coming out in a breathless huff as he pinches your side gently, making you stumble backward into the bathroom. “what are you doing?”

“c’mere,” he murmurs, closing the door behind him as he steps closer, his hands firm on your hips.

you shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “ross, the program’s starting in fifteen minutes. we need to—”

“plenty of time,” he interrupts, his voice low and a little gravelly. “don’t you think?”

you narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. “plenty of time for what?”

he doesn’t answer, at least not with words. instead, he leans down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s soft at first, almost tentative, before it deepens. his hands slide up your sides, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

“ross,” you mumble against his lips, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. “we really—”

“shh,” he murmurs, one hand moving to cradle your face as he presses his forehead against yours. “just one more minute, yeah? let me have this.”

your resolve crumbles instantly, and you sigh, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest as you kiss him again. his lips are warm and a little rough, tasting faintly of whiskey and champagne, and it’s dizzying, the way he kisses you like he’s trying to memorize every detail.

when you finally pull back, his eyes are heavy-lidded, his lips curled into a lazy, satisfied smile.

“program,” you try reminding him again.

“darling,” he starts, “d’you want me to behave during the program?”

“obviously,” you roll your eyes playfully.

ross nods and slips out of his jacket to neatly hang it up one of the hooks on the wall.

you frown and watch as he rolls up his sleeves and tugs at his tie to losen it up.

“what are you doing- stop,” you try to stop his hand but he already removes it from his neck, “ross.”

“what?” he gives you his best puppy dog eyes and his stupid grin with his more stupid dimples, “don’t wanna make a mess, m’being very considerate.”

“of what?”

ross steps toward you, his expression soft but playful. he stops in front of you, tilting his head down slightly to meet your gaze. “f’ you,” he murmurs, sliding his hands to your waist.

before you can respond—or escape—he hooks his hands under your thighs with an ease that has you squeaking in protest, effortlessly lifting you off the ground.

“ross!” you whisper-shout, your hands clutching his shoulders instinctively as he carries you a few steps and sets you down on the edge of the sink.

“m’ gonna behave during, i promise. need you now though.”

ross begins to kiss your cheek as sweet as possible, then your jaw and then he’s already nipping at your neck and whispering pleas into your skin.

“can i eat you out, love?”

you would lie if you’d say you weren’t absolutely turned on by your boyfriend. you’re not used to him being so impatient and desperate. it’s always you. and he’s always being a tease about it, so why won’t you be?

“say please again, sounded so pretty.”

ross groans softly and pulls back to look at you.

“just want to make you feel good, darling. can i? please,” he whispers the last word and his hands are already sliding up your thighs to hitch up the fabric of your dress.

you stop his hands and raise your eyebrows to try to get more out of him.

ross knows you enjoy this, he’s just gonna go along and it’s not like he doesn’t want you to have the upper hand at some point. to just take what you want, what you need.

“pretty please, darling. i really need to have a taste, you look absolutely gorgeous in that dress and i’ll go mental if i can’t make you feel good in it.”

you feel hot listening to him and at this point you physically can’t deny him of anything.

“jesus- yes, alright.”

“thank you, darling,” he smiles and gives you a gentle and soft kiss to your lips.

his hand slides up your thigh further and reveals your new, black lace panties.

“fuck, these are new ones, aren’t they?” he observes and slides a finger under the waistband to feel the fabric.

you inhale sharply at the closeness to your wet cunt.

“yeah, wanted to surprise you tonight actually,” you smile, “early surprise then.”

“i love them,” he says, “they’re gorgeous.”

ross licks his lips and goes through his beard with his hands while thinking and then he already speaks again.

“lift your hips for me, please?”

you do so and he slides the fabric down your legs and over your heals.

“if they’re a present i’m gladly gonna take them.”

you giggle but then you feel a voracious shiver, not only because of the cold on your legs, but because you are so close and he is touching you so masterfully, letting his fingertips slide along the inside of your thigh, he can already feel the heat radiating off your skin as he trails lower, touching every part of your skin that he can reach.

“fuckin’ hell, so ready for me,” ross lifts his left arm to take a glance at the watch, “i’ll try to hurry, even though it breaks my heart.”

before you know it, he is already between your legs, hooking his hands under your thighs to spread your legs apart gently, nuzzling his nose along your inner thigh, inhaling your scent.

“can i ask you to do something?” he asks.

you nod and smile, “of course.”

“hold your dress,” he says while he takes your hand and puts it on top of the fabric, “don’t want to ruin it.”

your hand automatically grips the fabric and it’s a not so good replacement to his hair actually. you really can’t ruin his hair. it would take too long to fix it and you can’t waste time.

“can’t wait any longer,” he mumbles more to himself and then he looks up at you, the desire in his eyes mirroring yours as he presses a soft kiss right on your clit, making it throb in response.

his tongue dances slowly and deliberately along your folds, licking all the way up, savoring your taste as soft whimpers escaped your lips, his hands now on your inner thighs, keeping them spread wide for him to feast on you.

“fuck,” ross groans, “need you all the time. love you so much, s’my absolute favorite taste.”

he’s not lying. ross loves to spend his time on his knees. getting you off on his mouth or his fingers is as much pleasure for him as being inside of you.

“oh, fuck,” you whine.

ross’ tongue is warm and velvety as he pushes it through your slick folds. it’s killing you to not grip him and hold him there. you gasp as he continues to lap into you with a hunger and passion that leaves you trembling with need.

"mhm, love this, darling," he murmurs, his words sending a delicious thrill down your spine as he swirls his tongue around your swollen clit, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

you can't help but let out a cascade of moans and whimpers as he begins to move your hips in rhythm with his ministrations, making you gently grind against his face as he continues to worship you with his mouth.

“ross, y-you’re so good.”

“deserve it,” he mumbles while he continues to rock you against his face.

the sound of your moans echoing through the room only drives him further, his movements becoming more urgent as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. you cunt pulses with desire.

your head is spinning, the sensations overwhelming you.

“ross,” you whisper-moan again, needing more. anything.

ross hums into your cunt.

"feels so good..." you manage to say between the whimpers and moans. he swirls his tongue around your clit in slow circles, occasionally dipping it lower to tease your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

"more?" he asks with a muffled voice.

"y-yes," you answer.

his answer is his tongue delving inside you, stopping only when he moves his lips so he can suck your clit hard. your breathy and desperate moans only turn him on, his fingers almost penetrating your flesh to keep your legs spread wide as he eats you out relentlessly.

“thats it, feel good, love,” he moans against your flesh, his nose pressing on your clit as he devours you ravenously, lapping at your core and drinking you greedily. "s’ fucking perfect," he hisses, feeling his own desire throbbing between his legs as he works you higher and higher

“baby, fuck”, you moan, “m’ so close, so-“

ross moves more eager now, his only mission to make you feel good. to cloud your mind the rest of the evening so you’ll be even more pent up later.

“need you, love. need it,” he groans.

the coil in your stomach tightens, and you can already feel the familiar sweet, honeyed sensation fill you up. warmth moving through your nerves and seeping deep into your bones. your eyes are already closed, eyes sightlessly moving around beneath your lids.

ross can't resist anymore, reaching a hand down to his pants, rubbing himself through the material. you see his movements, but can't bring yourself to stop him when his eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

“good?” you ask, smiling at him.

ross slowly opens his eyes to you looking down at him with a small smile. he returns it and leads his hand to your cunt in front of him.

“sorry,” he says, “all yours again.”

he slowly enters two of his fingers and draws a loud moan out of you which you have to stop by biting your lip.

“close,” you whine again.

his fingers move deeper, motions precise. the pads of his fingers nudge that soft spot deep in your cervix, and your legs are clamping closed, only held open by his bobbing head.

"ross,” you moan, "oh god, fuck- ross, honey, please," soft words bubble from your lips, your brain too pleasure-frazzled to form any other, more coherent requests.

ross’ fingers continue their movements, his tongue moves up and down your cunt.

the coil snaps. his tongue plunges deep inside you, tasting along the spongy walls of your cunt.

all it takes is one simple movement from ross.

his thumb circles your clit once, twice, his nose nudges your clit closer to his thumb - and you're suppressing all your moans.

"ross," you cry out as your back arches off the marble ground completely. your hips still held down by ross’ strong arms intertwined around them, holding you hostage to his pleasure.

“thank you,” he mumbles, “fuck.”

as every alarm in your fried brain goes off, telling you to stop the stimulation before you go insane, your hips yet continue to move, jerky circles following ross’ still ongoing torment.

and ross doesn't deprive you of any pleasure - his tongue still rapidly laps at your juices. the movements of his thumb on your clit are gentle, however. slow, deliberate and soft circles.

“stop,” you push his shoulder away, “too much, ross. no time,” you manage to breathe out.

with a quiet groan ross moves away, his beard glistening in the expensive light.

he licks his tongue over his lips and smiles up at your dreamy state.

“thank you, love. think i’m sober now actually.”

your breath is heavily moving up and down while you try to collect yourself.

“okay- jesus,” you begin to ramble, “we need to fix ourselves up.”

you shift, smoothing your dress back into place, but his hands tighten for just a second before he loosens them. “taste yourself,” he says quietly, his voice low and rough, and then he’s leaning forward before you can respond, kissing you.

it’s slow at first, his lips soft and coaxing, but then he slips his tongue past yours, and you let out the smallest whine against him. ross hums into the kiss, his hand sliding up to the curve of your hip, and you feel him shift—his hips pressing forward, his belt buckle clicking faintly against the sink.

you pull back with a breathless laugh, your forehead brushing his. “next hour’s gonna be torture for you.”

ross exhales sharply, shaking his head like he’s trying to collect himself, but his lips twitch in a faint, boyish grin. “yeah, no shit.”

you hop off the counter, smoothing your dress as you glance at him over your shoulder. “come on,” you say, grabbing his tie, “let’s make you look presentable again.”

his hands fall to his sides, and he lets you tug him closer, his eyes locked on yours the whole time. as you tie the knot, he smirks faintly, his voice low. “i think i’m perfectly fine the way i am.”

you shoot him a look, one brow raised. “not exactly appropriate for company,” you mutter, tightening the tie and brushing it flat against his chest.

“appropriate’s boring.”

you sigh dramatically but can’t hold back the small smile tugging at your lips. “you’re impossible,” you mutter, reaching for his jacket.

he slips into it, his movements slow, and you can feel his gaze on you as you fix his lapels. his voice softens as he says, “you’re gorgeous, you know that?”

“you’ve been telling me quite often today, yes.”

ross just shrugs, his grin turning a bit more smug as he leans against the counter, watching you grab a few paper towels. when you step closer, tilting his chin up to wipe at his beard, his hands find your waist again, a lazy, possessive touch.

“you really do need to behave now,” you say firmly, tossing the paper towels into the bin, giving him a pointed look.

“will i get a reward if i do, then?”

you smirk, stepping closer, your hands brushing over his jacket. “depends how well you behave,” you murmur, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear, “but let’s just say… anything you want.”

his pupils dilate, his hands tightening on your waist for a split second, but then he inhales sharply, blinking like he’s trying to snap himself out of it. he lets out a low chuckle, pushing off the counter and straightening his jacket.

“right,” he mutters, giving you one last, lingering look before he strides toward the door, his steps steady despite the tension still written in his shoulders. “hurry, love. programs starting, i think.”

-

the program's underway, and ross hasn’t let up. his hand finds a home on your thigh under the tablecloth, thumb absentmindedly stroking over your skin in slow circles. every few minutes, you feel his fingers squeeze, firm and needy, like he can’t quite help himself.

he's drinking more, too. each time his glass gets refilled, ross tips it back a little quicker, his already-flushed cheeks deepening in color, the booze only amplifying his shamelessness. it’s subtle at first—the way he shifts in his chair, one leg bouncing restlessly. but soon, he’s adjusting himself blatantly, pulling at the fabric of his trousers like it’s unbearable, like it’s all too much.

“you alright there, ross?” you whisper with a smirk, though you already know the answer.

he lets out a strained laugh, leaning in close enough that you feel the heat of his breath against your ear. “can’t anymore, love,” he murmurs, voice low and wrecked. “hurts.”

you snort, biting back a laugh as you shake your head at him. “it’s your own fault,” you shoot back.

ross groans softly, resting his forehead against your shoulder for a moment. “well, you’re hot, love,” he mumbles like it’s the most obvious excuse in the world, his lips brushing against the bare skin of your collarbone as he speaks.

your stomach flips, but you play it cool, nudging him gently with your elbow. “behave,” you warn, though there’s no real heat behind it.

he doesn’t answer, just sits back in his chair, head tipped slightly to the side as he watches you. it’s almost enough to distract you from the speeches happening at the front of the room.

a sudden burst of laughter from the crowd makes you jump slightly, snapping you out of it. ross uses the distraction to lean in again, his fingers pressing harder into your thigh this time.

“d’you want me to beg again? s’that gonna help me in any way?” he asks.

“i’m afraid not. i’ll remember this though, you being this nice and desperate for me.” he still looks at you like a lost puppy, “later, ross.”

he sighs heavily, slumping back in his seat in defeat. but his hand stays on your thigh, his grip tightening just enough to remind you exactly how badly he’s struggling.

for now, you let him suffer.

he was good during the rest of the program, struggling but good enough to not try to get anything from you.

when the bride and groom finally step onto the dance floor for their first dance, the lights dim, and the room falls into a hush. the soft glow from the chandeliers casts a golden halo around them as the music starts—a slow, romantic song that seems to wrap itself around them. ross leans in toward you, his lips brushing against your ear.

“they look good together, don’t they?”

you smile, tilting your head toward him slightly. “they do. they look so happy.”

he hums in agreement, his fingers tapping lightly against your knee now. “makes you wonder how long they’ve been planning this. every little detail, you know? that archway earlier? ridiculous. in a good way, though.”

“it’s worth it,” you say softly, watching as the bride laughs while the groom spins her gently. “for a moment like that? it’s all worth it.”

he doesn’t say anything for a while, just leans back in his chair and watches, his expression unreadable. you glance at him, wondering what’s going through his head, but before you can ask, the music shifts slightly, signaling the end of the first dance.

the DJ’s voice comes through the speakers. “alright, everyone, let’s get this party started! grab a partner, grab a friend, and get out on the dance floor!”

people start moving, laughter and chatter filling the room again. you think nothing of it until ross stands suddenly, holding a hand out to you.

“would you like to dance with me?”

you blink up at him, caught off guard. “you want to dance?”

his lips twitch into a small smile, and he tilts his head. “yeah, why not? come on.”

his hand is still there, steady and waiting, and there’s something about the way he looks at you—so sure, so certain—that makes it impossible to say no.

you slide your hand into his, and he helps you to your feet, his grip warm and firm. your heart does a funny little flip when he doesn’t let go, even as he starts leading you toward the dance floor, weaving through the crowd until he finds a spot that seems good enough for him.

his hand settles on your waist as he pulls you close, his other hand still holding yours. the two of you start to sway, his movements slow and easy, matching the rhythm of the song perfectly.

“you’re not terrible at this,” you tease, a small smile playing on your lips as you look up at him.

he raises an eyebrow, his mouth twitching like he’s fighting a grin. “not terrible? darling, i’m bloody brilliant at this.”

“oh, brilliant now?”

“absolutely.” his tone is mock serious as he spins you lightly, just enough to make you laugh, and when he pulls you back into his arms, his hand on your waist slides just a little higher. “better than most, i’d say.”

you roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest makes it impossible to argue.

his lips brush your cheek then, so soft you almost don’t feel it. you glance up at him, but he’s already pulling back, his expression casual, like it’s nothing.

but then he does it again.

and again.

“ross,” you whisper, laughing softly. “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” he murmurs, though the way his lips curl at the corners gives him away.

you shake your head, leaning it against his shoulder as the two of you continue to sway. “god, i love weddings,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

his hand tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer. “is that a dream of yours?” he asks, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

“what, weddings?”

he hums. “yeah. getting married. is that something you want?”

you look up at him, your brows furrowing slightly. “of course it is.”

he stares at you for a moment, his eyes flicking between yours. then, so softly you almost don’t hear him, he says, “marry me then.”

you blink, caught completely off guard. “ross—”

“i mean it.” his voice is low, almost pleading, and his hand on your waist grips just a little tighter. “marry me. i’d do it right now if i could.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “you’ve had too much to drink.”

he frowns, his eyes narrowing slightly. “you don’t believe me?”

“ross—”

“i’m serious.” his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he stares at you, his gaze so intense it makes your breath hitch. “darling, i want to marry you. i’d marry you right here, right now, if you’d let me.”

your heart stutters, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. “i love you.”

“i love you,” he whispers back, “i love you.”

you giggle when he places a soft kiss onto the top of your nose.

“so?” he asks.

you smile, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “ask me again when you’re sober, yeah?”

“i will,” he promises, his voice soft but sure. “and you better say yes.”

“we’ll see.”

you continue slow dancing for a few songs, keep on looking at each other and with every minute that goes by you’re getting more desperate as well.

you need way more than what happened in the bathroom. you want to give ross what he wants.

he buries his face in your neck, his beard grazing your skin as he presses open-mouthed kisses to your throat. “what are you thinking about?” he mumbles, “can’t stop thinking about what happened earlier, hm?”

“you wish,” you murmur, smoothing your fingers over his hair.

“mm, yeah,” he admits, nosing along your jaw. “i do. that would mean you’d give in.”

you shudder when his lips find the shell of your ear, his voice turning softer, more insistent.

“noticed you too, y’know,” he whispers, dragging his hands down your back, settling them low on your hips. “the way you looked at me in the bathroom. you liked it, didn’t you? having my mouth on you, my tongue fucking you open—”

“ross,” you warn, heat pooling low in your stomach.

“s’alright,” he soothes, kissing your cheek, slow and lingering. “just sayin’. got you all flustered now, haven’t i? you’re breathing so hard, love.”

you are. embarrassingly so.

he pulls back just enough to look at you properly, eyes dark, lips twitching up at the corners. “fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes.

you try to school your expression, pretend like he doesn’t affect you as much as he does, but he sees right through it. always does.

“c’mon, love,” he coaxes, leaning in again, his teeth grazing your jaw this time, his voice all honeyed and coaxing. “don’t fight me on this. you want me just as bad, don’t you?”

you don’t answer, but you don’t need to.

ross groans, like the mere thought of you wanting him back is enough to ruin him. his grip tightens, his body pressing even closer to yours.

“need you,” he whispers, barely audible, but you hear it like it’s the only thing in the world that matters. “please, love. i mean it.”

your resolve cracks, splinters into nothing.

you fist a hand in his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, messy and desperate. he moans into it, hands slipping lower.

“fuck,” he breathes, stumbling backward, nearly losing his balance before catching himself. he laughs, breathless, dizzy with alcohol and arousal. “think i might need you to lead the way, love.”

you shake your head, laughing too, but it’s just as breathless. just as needy.

“c’mon then, macdonald,” you say, tugging him by the collar.

he grins, following without hesitation.

ross stumbles as you tug him along, his feet barely keeping up with yours, but he doesn’t care. he’s grinning, all dimpled and flushed, looking at you like you’ve hung the stars just for him.

“where we going, love?” he slurs, but he follows anyway, unwavering, his grip on your hand firm like he never wants to let go.

“there’s, like, a barn upstairs,” you say, giggling as you glance back at him. “beautiful though. i’ve helped to make it more comfortable—there are blankets and everything.”

“a barn?”

“a barn,” you confirm, dragging him up the stairs, your legs wobbly with alcohol and anticipation.

“god, i love you,” he breathes, the words slipping out so easily, so effortlessly, it makes your chest ache.

you push open the door, revealing the space you’ve set up—soft blankets piled in the center, the dim glow of fairy lights casting everything in warm gold. it smells like wood and old hay, but in a comforting way, something earthy and safe.

ross exhales sharply, his fingers flexing around yours. “fuck,” he mutters. “this is—fuck.”

you giggle again, giddy, stepping backward toward the blankets, pulling him with you. “you like it?”

ross shakes his head, like he can’t believe you, like he’s utterly ruined by you. “love it,” he says, but he’s not talking about the barn. he’s looking at you, the way your hair catches the light, the way your lips part slightly as you watch him.you reach for him, fingers hooking into the collar of his shirt, pulling him close. he goes willingly, crashing into you, hands finding your waist, your hips, your thighs. he groans against your mouth, drinking in your laughter, your warmth.

“been thinking about you all night,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours. “all fucking night.”

“yeah?” you murmur, hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin.

“yeah,” he breathes, his forehead pressing against yours. “gonna make you feel so fucking good, love. right here. in this little barn.”

you laugh again, but it’s cut off by ross kissing you, deep and slow, stealing the breath right from your lungs.

“is this safe? no one’s gonna come in the next hour?” he asks while throwing his tie next to you and his shirt next.

“no, don’t think so,” you smile.

you take a second to admire him, his breathless smile, his chest heaving up and down. the desperate look in his face.

you swing your leg over his and settle into his lap.

you gasp and bury your hand in his hair as quickly as possible. he gives your neck a kiss and presses closer to you.

he feels so close considering that he still has your panties in his pocket.

"i need you, love," you only hum in response, arching your back so you can grind down on him, an opportunity he graciously accepts. he groans low and rough into your neck as he starts to thrust up as well, “i- christ, this feels too good.”

his arm sneaks behind your back to pull the zipper of your dress down and letting it fall down your stomach. he continues to take off your bra and immediately squeeze one of your tits in his hands as you grind down harder,"oh fuckin’ hell.”

you tug his hair tie off and run your hand through his now messy hair.

"good?” is all you mumble before finally devouring his lips in a kiss that he whines into. whines

his frantic humping turns into purposeful grinding as you pull away. his breathing is more erratic than you've ever heard it. his eyes are shut as tightly as his hand is gripping your hip, surely leaving dents in your skin.

“ross,” you breathe out, “need me so bad?”

you try to sound teasing, dominant but instead the question comes out high and breathy, sounds as desperate as he's acting.

all you get in response is a growl from ross before his hand leaves your boob to flip your both around so he’s laying on top of you again.

his hair is mussed - definitely your doing, but his lips are red and bitten, presumably from holding in his sounds. his eyes are blown wide, glinting with a crazed look as he grinds into you gently.

he has his hand on your thigh, your leg pulled over his hip do he can grind right into your core, sending convulsions throughout your body.

after taking him in you meet his eyes again and he crumbles. whimpering a loose form of your name before burying his face in your neck and inhaling your scent as his hand coming to your lower back to press your body into his.

“you’re everything, darling,” he breathes out, “so gorgeous and i swear i’m gonna marry you one day. i’ll propose and then we’re going to have mini you’s that have your sweet smile.”

he continues, “and also i’m really fucking bothered right now and i’m losing my mind.”

his desperation is leaking into your veins now, the same way you've started to seep into your underwear, growing tired and teased with ross’ incessant movements against you.

“i think you deserve that reward now.”

you reach for his belt buckle, undoing it and reaching into his underwear. the moment your hands touch his already hard cock, ross shuts his eyes tightly, a soft moan escaping from his lips.

you can also already guide your hand down so smoothly because his pre cum made him so wet.

when you start to move your hand, softly stroking him and teasing his tip, you see how he reacts. he’s biting his lip, looking so lost and hazy.

“don’t, ross,” you say, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip, “be loud. i wanna hear you, please.”

you pick up the pace, but still keeping slow and you succeed. ross groans and throws his head back.

'bit faster, please- oh' he begs, his eyes still focussed on you. you smirk at him.

“anything for you,” you speed up your pace, and you're met with more sounds. deeper groans and muffled moans.

“christ, i can’t- i’m-“ he pants, desperation coating his words. when he's about to cum, he shuts his eyes but your hand stills.

ross looks even more fucked out now.

“fuck, this is embarrassing,” he says, “i don’t think-“

“it’s alright,” you give him one of your warm smiles, “you already made me feel so good. this is about you now. lift your hips.”

he lifts himself off the blanket slightly as you pull his cock out of the confines of his underwear. you lower your head towards him, slowly, keeping eye contact the entire time. with you on your knees in front of him, ross feels more confident, but there's no confusion about who is in control of this situation.

you take him into your mouth, and a hiss escapes from his mouth. “oh fuck, love... “ he groans. you move down, taking him deeper into your mouth until your nose touches the skin at his base. you gag, and ross moves his hand to tangle in your hair. not to hold you there, but to appreciate.

you lift away from him, and back down, settling into a steady pace as his precum coats your tongue.

“oh christ, you feel so good, love having your mouth on me,” ross moans in between pants.

he moves his hand to the back of your head and thrusts into your mouth, and you take it.

his head falls further and further back as his breathing quickens, his groans turning into louder moans as he comes closer to his breaking point. when he's almost there, just seconds away from his release, he pulls your head back.

“fuck, need to be inside of you,” he says, “please.”

you nod and stand up to let your dress fall onto the floor. ross shoves his pants from the bottom of his legs as well and then you’re there. both naked. both so vulnerable.

“you’re a dream.”

you lay down underneath him and he rolls on top of you kissing you and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

he’s back to weakly grinding against your thighs and you need him to finally feel good.

he moans your name when you wrap your hand around him but his breath is stolen as you line him up and practically shove him in.

he's surrounded in your wet warmth before he can take another breath. the same heat he's been craving.

his head drops into your neck again and you feel every breathe of his on your skin.

he just pants against you, incapable of taking even breaths as his hips twitch softly and against his will into you.

you lift his head and hold his cheeks, “you can take what you want ross.”

you hold his eye contact as your hands come to the base of his spine, pressing down and curving his hips into you, guiding his slow and gentle thrusts.

his face crumples in pleasure, all his features scrunching in as he tries not to moan into your face. his hand twitches on your throat before tightening again as he leans down to press you against his forehead before resting his cheek on yours as he finally releases all the sounds he's been holding in.

first you get a guttural groan, something that sounds like it came from the depths of his chest; low and rumbling. as his hips begin to move on their own accord, his moans change. they become more urgent, short and cut off as he tries to catch his breath. every now and then it sounds like the first syllable of your name but he's never able to get the full thing out.

“so good, darling,” he moans out, “just like that, fuck.”

you try and stay composed as you guide him but he's ramming into your g-spot. your brain is turning to mush, melting out of your ears. when ross pulls his face away from yours, wanting to examine your state, he can tell. he can tell that you're not all there, that you're holding on by a thread for him.

you watch a lazy smirk slide over his face as his hooded eyes meet yours. "it's okay, love.. m'here.

ross lifts one of your legs, gripping your thigh and pushing it to meet your chest. "you dont have to act all tough," it feels as though he's opened up a new channel inside you, like he's reaching places that weren't accessible before. like he's reached heaven, inside you. "you can let go, darling."

you explode.

you have no choice but to fall apart. you hadn't even been aware of how badly you'd been craving him as well.

it feels like your body falls completely apart. you don't feel attached your limbs anymore. all you can feel is the warmth blossoming violently in your abdomen. your thighs shake, and ross tightens his grip, wanting to feel the rippling muscles under his palm.

he watches your brows furrow as your eyes roll back. you go limp in his arms, your entire body relaxing as you soak him.

ross fucks into you at a leisurely pace, forgetting his desperation in favor of watching you melt into the ground. but as he thrusts he watches you slowly coat him.

he gasps once and sees your eyes snap open to his, waiting and watching as his body folds in on itself to fill you with him.

“oh fucking-“

ross almost falls on top of you, his arm catching him before he lowers himself into your lips. he's too busy moaning your name and praises to kiss you properly. he rests his lips against yours as his mind clears, blank and thoughtless, finally satiated after hours of driving him crazy.

his body weight slowly increases as he blankets you, his cock pulsing inside you gently, gently pumping pent up ropes of cum into you despite the small amount already leaking onto your thighs.

"love you so much," ross mumbles groggily into your ear. his hand comes up to stroke your head, soothing you as he notices your rapid heartbeat. “you’re perfect, love. want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“me too," your hand slides out of his hair and down his back, scratching gently and relishing in the way you feel his chest rumble with a contented hum.

"you feel better now?" he chuckles softly before biting you semi-gently. "menace. don’t ever want to sit with my dick hard for hours again," he sighs against your skin. "glad you had your fun though," he licks over his teeth marks before kissing them.

you giggle and scratch his back gently.

ross hums and closes his eyes, “think we have to join the party again?”

“probably.”

he hums in understanding and detaches himself from you. you react quickly and pull him back down, “five more minutes though,” you plead.

“five more minutes it is.”

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

i really really love your little ford au... I love that while stan is pissed at ford he's still gently caring for him and enjoying the dynamic in spite of himself. he spent so long waiting for his brother and now he can Hold Him In His Hand and keep him safe and not risk losing him. and ford, who's come to idolize and adore stanley, can be surrounded by his presence and warmth and lose himself in it. despite all the angst i love the careful intimacy that comes from ford's smallness.... And I think it's funny that even when stan is still upset w him, he lets ford sleep on his chest... just accepting that he's got a little guy leeching off his body heat all the time now.

I know it's a slow burn but . imagining them testing out physical intimacy when ford's still little... pressing himself up against stanley's face and being overwhelmed by the gentlest of kisses. ford curling into the crook of stanley's neck as stan sits at his desk fixing his fishing rod. ford is paranoid and nervous after years in the multiverse, but being so small and safe in his brother's hold makes him feel more secure than he has in decades

i'm going to be 100% honest w you anon, i love this sm that i just didnt want to answer it so that it never went away dudbsusbsjsjsb i want this tattooed on my SKINw

but yeah. GOD is this au so SOFT and the best way to subvert the typical stancest interpretation. I love pining ford, i love pathetic wet simp ford, i love ford whos got the all so bruising crushing guilt of knowing he upset stan one more time when he wasnt trying to AND despite it all, stan STILL cares for him so damn much, literally making sure everything is in his comfort. the way he finally understands that he's completely, entirely safe with stan. and thats all stan ever wanted, was to have ford want to rely on him. too bad it had to happen in the worst way— when hes actively TRYING to move on from ford but look ford man. how can he be mad at him? or take him in his hands and keep him safe??

also on the note of ford leeching off stan's body heat, YES. you know what else hes enjoying the surplus of sleeping on stan's chest? hearing stans heartbeat, alive and well, being able to feel stan breathe in and out, hearing the way stan mutters his name in his sleep and ford wonders how he ever lived without this for 40 plus years, how he ever thought he wanted to be some lone wolf when here he is, happy to be literally leaning on stan at all times.

[lovelymylene]

FROSTED FLAKES pt.1

In the summer of ‘76,, Matt meets a walking social disaster. In simpler terms.. a girl. I know. Matt Sturniolo and girls aren’t exactly a match made in heaven. But maybe this one is an exception?

September 14, 1976 – A Warm, Late-Summer Evening

The air smelled like gasoline and fading sunlight, warm in that way September gets when summer refuses to let go. The pavement still held onto the heat of the afternoon, radiating up through the soles of Matt Sturniolo’s sneakers as he walked home from McCleary’s Market with a bag of records under his arm. The sky had that golden, hazy look, half dusk, half dream, where everything feels a little too quiet, like the world is holding its breath before night fully settles in.

Matt liked moments like this. When the streets were mostly empty, the radio static in his head quieted, and the only sound was the scuff of his sneakers against the sidewalk.

Then, out of nowhere—

BAM.

A blur of curls. A crash. The sharp edge of a shopping cart jamming into his hip.

Matt stumbled back, nearly dropping his records, as someone practically barreled into him outside the market. A girl.

“Oh my god,” she gasped, immediately grabbing his arms like she could keep him upright through sheer force of will. “Are you okay? Jesus, I wasn’t looking—well, obviously I wasn’t looking, because if I was looking, you wouldn’t be half-dead on the sidewalk right now, but—oh no, did I break something? Are you gonna sue me? Wait, do people actually do that? I mean, I wouldn’t sue if I got hit with a shopping cart, but—”

Matt just blinked at her, trying to process what the hell just happened.

The girl, who had massive brown eyes and a mess of dark curls that looked like they had a mind of their own, stared back at him expectantly, waiting for a response.

“…You talk a lot,” he muttered.

She grinned. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

And then, before he could say anything else, she reached into his grocery bag, dropped a box of Frosted Flakes inside, and walked off like nothing happened.

Matt stood there for a long moment, watching her bounce away down the sidewalk, talking to an old lady who looked very confused but not entirely displeased by her presence.

What the hell just happened?

And, more importantly…

Who was she?

@issysh3ll

Authors note.. (Okay a few things this is my first series that I wanted to start and I have a few questions. Do you guys want her to have a name and be her own character or do you want it to be a reader type thing. And also I tried to write this in a rom com type style so if you don’t like it pls lmk. Tell me anything you don’t like. And lastly do you guys want smut in this later on? Because that’s definitely possible)

taglist.. @italiansunsetsss @b1gba113r @st7rnioioss-alt @sincerlykelsss @throatgoat4u @wiseladypoetry @gracieabrmslvr @sweetangelgirl7 @pearlzier @1-hypegvrl @piperrrr-16 @mackyyyk @luna443 @flowerxbunnie @cwemetrys @calliepie @cupidsword @recklesssturniolo @littlebookworm803 @blissfulxsins @camsturnz @st7rnioioss @rempessturniolo

[lazzarella]

Small TanFang details I love Pt 3: Fang sleeping soundly (with a little smile on his face) while his boyfriend’s snoring has chased off not one, but two of their friends

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6

[eupheme]

— come on and show me

[part ii | part iii | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.5k

tags: Logan POV, MMF threesome, jealous!logan, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, voyeurism, dirty talk, open relationship, oral sex, fingering, Logan doms both of them, 69ing, fucklicking, ball worship, come eating, PiV

a/n: I want them to kiss and I also want them to kiss reader to here this is! 💕

Right now, all he can hear is Wade running his goddamn mouth. Drowning out the sounds you make - so fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.

There’s one thing that Logan knows for sure - and it’s that Wade’s not doing it right. Not like he would.

(or - Logan tries to shut Wade up, and it doesn’t quite go as expected)

Logan can hear Wade from here.

Running that goddamn mouth already, and the sun’s only barely up.

Can hear you, too. The little whimpers that you try bite back. He can imagine the way your teeth sink into your lip - the thought has him shifting in his chair, breakfast forgotten.

So fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.

Knows he could make you even louder, too. It’s almost like he’s at the mansion again, looking at another toy he can’t touch.

What a waste.

The sounds crescendo, the chanting of a name layered with that endless babble that makes his teeth grind, before the sound breaks.

Trying not to look interested when the door opens a few minutes later. Snatching up the newspaper that’s been sitting on the cluttered tabletop for a month now, flicking it open.

Ignoring how Wade strolls out, adjusting the waistband on a pair of grey sweats that are hanging way too low on his hips for comfort.

Rummaging around for a bottle of water, the glow of the fridge illuminating the curve of his ass. The cut of the pants look familiar, Logan's eyes narrowing as he wonders if those are his missing pair-

The edge of the paper flicking up again into place again, just as Wade stretches - bending further, before the bottle is snatched from the back.

Logan huffs.

“Hey roomie,” Wade hums, flicking the cap at him. It sails through the air, disappearing into his forgotten cup of coffee with a little 'plunk', “Don’t let me interrupt that killer Ed Tom Bell impression you’ve got going on, just hydrating for round two.”

“Ooh,” A cock of his hip, as he turns - head tilting as he thinks, “Does that make me Josh Brolin? God, I love him.”

“That’s all?” Logan’s eyebrows lift as he sneers - ignoring another reference he doesn’t understand, “Been going at it for a while.”

As soon as he says it, he regrets it. Opening himself up for an attack. He can already hear the sing-song response at the admittance that he’s been listening.

Screwing the Pavlovian pooch, with the way that he's more than aware that his dick’s half-hard. The result of taking care of himself one too many times - an attempt at getting himself back to sleep, pretending that he isn’t jerking himself off to the beat of the frame that bangs against the walls.

Luckily, Wade zeros in on the exact wrong part. Sputtering, as water drips down his chin, “That’s all? What do you mean, that’s all?”

“You heard me,” The paper crinkles in his fist, “In fact, I’m surprised you even got round one off. Much less that she’s sticking around for another.”

“You wound me, and yet, flatter.” Wade’s hand flattens over his heart, “I never knew you thought about me like that.”

“I haven’t been thinking about you, you ass,” Logan snarls, teeth bared, “I just know that if you’re talking, then you’re not doing it right.”

Wade grins at that, teeth scraping over his lower lip as they stretch wide.

Eyes flicking over his form, assessing in a way that has Logan bristling - voice going syrupy-smooth, “Is that right? You think you can do better, mutton chops?”

The breath he inhales is ragged. That feeling back again - an urge to curl his hand around Wade’s throat, and squeeze.

“Yeah,” Logan growls out, “Yeah, I fucking do.”

The table shakes as Wade plops himself down on the edge, a leg crossing over the other. Interest gleaming in his eyes as his head tilts towards the bedroom door.

“Alright. Bring on the magic tricks, Angier.” His hands splay wide, wiggling, “Gonna show me how to make your fingers disappear?”

Logan glares, his eyes flicking down to where the fleece pulls across his hips.

“Right.” He spits, “Like you’ve got another in you?”

“Hey now, pookums. Marvel Jesus, remember?” Wade’s hand makes a sweeping gesture in front of his crotch, “Just give me three minutes and I’ll have risen.”

“That’s disgusting.” Logan barks, “And get off the table.”

If anything, it makes Wade sit harder. His legs pivoting until he can spread his thighs on either side of the paper, ankles dangling off the edge.

“Disgusting?” His tone pitches up, “Says the man that’s rocking a stiffy. Gonna jerk it at the breakfast table when I leave? You know Blind Al eats there.”

The paper twitches reflexivity in his hands, and Wade’s smile pulls wider as Logan shoots him a death glare, lips curling over teeth.

“Why the fuck would I do something like that?”

Wade hums, “Call it an educated wish.”

“Call it an educated get-the-fuck-out-of-here.” Logan scoffs. His eyes flicking towards the bedroom, the door still shut, “You’re talking like she wants this.”

Wade’s finger presses at the edge of the newspaper he’s hiding behind, and Logan bats his hand away.

He’s still not gotten used to all the skin, he doesn’t know where to look. The slightest shift back in his chair, but he’s already pressed up against the wall.

“Oh please, as if we don’t take turns roleplaying as you,” Wade sighs longingly, “This would be a wet dream come true.”

His eyes narrow then, as his tongue runs across his lip. Voice dropping again, coaxing.

“Look,” Wade says it like he’s leveling with him - talking man-to-man,“If you wanted to fuck her, peanut, all you had to do was ask.”

And for a moment, Logan truly considers it. Not just the fantasy that’s been playing through his head for weeks.

Weirder shit has happened, he supposed.

He’s already been claw-deep into Wade’s guts. A brawl in that shitty van that lasted until morning. Bound tip-to-tip in the void for god knows how long.

Getting walked in on in the bathroom at least twice in the last month. A gleeful “mind if I cut in?”, before Logan’s fist is sending him into the vanity.

The last time it took a full week to get the sink fixed.

Not to mention that Wade apparently seems so certain that his clothes were now their clothes.

So fucking keen on sharing.

So it wasn’t a stretch to think he might want to share you, too.

There’s something caught between his teeth, heavy on his tongue. About to loosen, when the door is opening.

Swallowing them down as you step through, thighs bare under a too-big t-shirt. Arms wrapping around Wade’s shoulders as your lips press against his cheek.

“Thought you were coming back, Red.” You coo. Drawn out by the sound of bickering as you had basked in your afterglow.

“Morning, Logan.” A smile sent his way after, turning sheepish, “You’re up early. Hope we didn’t wake you.”

He grunts in reply. Pretending there wasn’t a little jolt in his stomach at the sound of his name. That he hadn’t been thinking about spreading you across this table, lifting the hem of your shirt up-

If he’d been in your bed, no one would have had to wonder.

The whole damn floor would’ve been woken up.

“He thinks I fuck bad, so I’m gonna prove he’s wrong,” Wade adds in, cheerfully, “That okay with you, gorgeous?”

Logan glares over the top of his paper. A rough clearing in his throat as your eyebrows lift, glancing his way.

He hadn’t really meant to bring you into this, or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself.

That eye contact dropping, as you lean into Wade, your chin propped on his shoulder, “Is that right? How are you going to do that?”

Logan’s answer comes out flat, as he examines an ad in the bottom corner of the page,“I’m not doing anything.”

Wade sighs, his head knocking back against your shoulder.

“Come on, Wolvie. I would love for you to prove me wrong,” He needles, digging deep, “Put your money where my cock should be.”

Logan still doesn’t look up, “Not interested, I’m busy.”

The sigh that pulls from his lungs is long, a near-whine.

“What, with reading?” He exclaims, “Jesus you really are old. The retirement home called, they’re missing a resident.”

Logan’s eyes snap up now, narrowing, “Fuck. Off.”

With a sigh, Wade fucks off. Legs curling, until he’s rolling off the table. Your hand fitting in his, a water bottle tucked under your arm as you head back towards the room.

“The offer still stands!” He calls.

A beat, before you turn.

“Logan?” You call, as he’s helpless - his eyes pulling away. Drawn to you.

A little wink sent his way. Your finger gesturing towards his chest, as you smile.

“Your paper’s upside down.”

Logan’s still not quite sure how he got here. His feet moving on his own, fingers catching the bedroom door just as it starts to close.

Almost backing out when he sees the look of Wade’s face, pleased as fucking punch.

Standing by the edge of the bed now, as you kneel on it in front of him. Fingers slipping across his chest - curious, with the way your eyes flicker over his face. Eager, though you hide it well.

“So what exactly did you tell Wade to get him so worked up?” Your fingers twine around his neck, as his find your hips.

He hums at that - flicking towards his roommate before they find yours again.

“All I said was that if I can hear his mouth running from out there,” Logan’s fingers dent into soft skin, tugging you closer, “He can’t be doing a good job.”

There’s a shift off to the side. Wade sinking down into the beanbag chair he pulled up,“Can you believe that? As if I don’t have a good grade in my oral and my dickabilties.”

“A gold star, babe.” You shoot him a tender smile, before they focus on Logan again. Shoulder lifting, as your grin grows, “I mean, Merc with a Mouth, right? Seems like part of the package.”

He huffs, eyes dropping to your lips.

“You think it’s good,” Logan’s tone is almost pitying, “But it’s only because you haven’t had better.”

That pulls a gasp from your throat, eyebrows lifting.

“Yeah, I think you’re trying to emasculate me, but honestly…” Wade’s hand splays wide over his crotch, “Sploosh.”

“Sploosh.” You echo softly, and he can feel you shift closer. Can smell the fresh curl of arousal that heats your skin, as his hands ghost higher. A small smile, as your head tilts, “So you just all talk then, or…”

“No.” Logan scoffs, “No, I’m not.”

He closes the gap, more certain now. Mouth pressing against yours, as you squeak - tense in his arms, until you go liquid.

Soft tits pressed to his chest as his tongue sweeps against your lips. Swallowing a pretty moan as they part for him, his own groan rumbling in his chest as his hands wander.

Slipping down, ghosting against skin. Feeling the goosebumps that rise, as he draws circles against your hip. His name whimpered, and it shoots straight to his cock.

Not even a heartbeat, before the chatter begins.

“Bet your pussy’s wet already, isn’t it baby?” He coos, “A kiss like that, it’s even got me a little worked up. And I’m just producing this show.”

Logan’s eyes crack open as he glares, “You’re not producing shit, asshole.”

“Ooh, I bet you SO wish you worded that in a different way-”

You huff against his mouth, your touch guiding him back. The thought lingers, curiosity burning. Letting his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, knuckles brushing your thigh.

Tracing around to the curve of your ass, his wide palm splaying out, then squeezing against bare flesh.

“Is he right?” He rasps, his lips brushing against yours. Half-hating that he’s letting Wade get in his head, but the thought-

You gasp again, and his teeth flash with his smirk, “Are you wet for me already, sweetheart?”

“She’s been since she first saw you. Goddamn Niagara Falls,” Wade’s voice has softened - teasing now, “Isn’t that right, gorgeous?”

An amused shake of your head, as something silent passes between them. Logan doesn’t pretend to know how your relationship works - other than the fact that Wade was willing to do anything to save this world for you.

And that there’s something inside him that tightens - a flicker in his belly - whenever he looks at you. Whenever Wade flirts with him. That sharp annoyance from their meeting slowly bleeding out with each day goes by.

Something else taking root, the more time he spends with both of you. He’s not good with his emotions. Doesn’t want to name that ache when he saw you together.

A silent wish, with his shifting daydreams. With the jerk of his fist in the morning. Imaging you in his bed, at first. And then, more - two sets of hands. Two mouths at his cock, and then he’s suddenly coming harder than he has before.

He’s become greedy, the more you both give him.

“Show me.” It’s a command, soft and low.

Logan can feel your thighs press together, that little squirm. Tucking this new discovery away as you lean back, eyes dark with desire.

The briefest hesitance, before your fingers loosen from him. Slipping down, under the hem of your shirt. The nails on your other hand bite into his shoulder as you sigh - two fingers gliding through the wet folds of your pussy.

Pulling them back for him to see. Glistening, your arousal stringing between them. His hand is already curling around your wrist. No resistance as he tugs - guiding your fingers past his lips as they part.

Sucking the sweet taste of you as he groans, deep in his chest. Eyes fixed on yours so he can see the way yours widen, feeling how your fingers flex against the swipe of his tongue.

“Logan.” You sigh his name, and it only makes his moan - eyes shutting as you press down against his tongue. The need slipping into your voice, pleading.

“I wanna feel your mouth. Show me, too,” You sigh, as you slip from him, “Show me what you meant.”

Christ, he’s been aching for this. Eager to drown himself in your pussy, if you’d let him.

There’s a sharp clap that forces his eyes open. Wade’s enthusiasm as he drags the bag closer, chin cradled in his hands.

“Yeah, Logan. You gonna show us your dickabilites, or what?”

He shoots him a withering look. Softening before he turns to you, his chin tipping up.

“Lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.”

You listen so sweetly, and it makes his cock throb. A quick dart of your eyes over to your boyfriend, who only nods.

“Take that off, baby,” Wade coos, “Show him how pretty you are.”

He’s not sure when he started letting Wade make orders, but for once he’s not wanting to argue about his suggestions.

Because fuck, you are pretty. No arguing with that.

Letting his eyes sweep over every inch that is revealed, as you lift the hem of your shirt. The curve of your hips, your soft tits that he can’t wait to get his mouth on.

Baring yourself, as you lean back against the pillows. His eyes are fixed on your cunt, already fitting himself between your thighs. Fingers reaching - ready to part you open. Taste you himself, bury his tongue inside you.

Your hand reaches out, pushing against his shoulder.

“Wait, you too.” You pout, “Let’s play fair, okay?”

He huffs, lips quirking. Hands catching the hem as he tugs his own shirt off, Wade diving for it as he tossed it towards the floor.

Twin gasps rise, and if he was a much younger man, he may have blushed.

“Fuck.” Wade groans, a hand dropping down his crotch and squeezing.

You’re already leaning forward, a hand flattening against his skin. A soft "wow" slipping from your lips - feeling the way his muscles jump as you slide over his pecs, the thick hair covering them.

A hand hooking around his shoulder - a smirk hidden as you tug him down on top of you.

Soft, beneath him. Those needy whines he loves so much caught between your teeth as he noses at your neck. Teeth nipping at skin, an urge to leave a mark for later.

That cry finally loosened as he moves down. Teeth and tongue biting and soothing at the tight peaks of your nipples. Broad hands cupping and squeezing, liking the way they fit in his palms. The way you moan, arching into his touch.

“Give me more of that,” He murmurs against your skin, "I want to hear you."

Your body tensing beneath his when he settles between your thighs. They have to spread, to fit his shoulders. Opening you up, putting you on display.

Watching how you clench - a throaty chuckle as his thumb presses just shy of your folds. Tugging you open, seeing how your skin glistens with slick already.

“Pretty fucking sight, you know that?” His eyes flip up to yours.

You’re propped up on your elbows. Teeth sinking into your lip, breath held as your eyebrows slant in anticipation. Lips parting with his words, a minute shift of your hips.

“You should see it when it’s stuffed full. Boston cream's got nothing on her."

There’s an embarrassed groan of his name. Logan ignores him - letting his thumb rub against the tight nub of your clit, instead. Your word turning into a sharp, inhaled breath.

Teasing, each circle achingly slow. Aware of the two sets of eyes on him, burning his skin. A low ache in his belly, his glaze fixing on yours, watching as you inhale as his mouth lowers.

A soft lick, tongue lapping against your slit. Tasting you more thoroughly, dragging against soaked skin, as his fingers tease at your entrance.

Focusing on your clit, tight flicks with his tongue. Letting his lips suck on the tight bud, as he sinks down to one knuckle, then another. A second finger slipping in once you get used to him, making room for himself as he scissors you open.

He can hear the soft, wet sound of your cunt, with each plunge of his fingers. Flexing and curling them until he can feel you clamp down.

The quiet sounds you make - soft breaths and gasps - turning louder. Panting now, as you whine. Hips lifting to meet the curl of his tongue, until he pulls back.

“Should be hearing this,” Logan grits out. A quick glance towards Wade as his fingers pound into you, “Not you talking out of your ass.”

There’s silence for a long moment, the words coming out distracted.

“You talk about my ass an awful lot for a man who pretends he's not interested,” Wade manages, slowly, “You change your mind about that, too?”

His breath shallow, as Logan growls in annoyance. Attention returning back to you. Fingers working faster, head dropping again to tongue at your clit.

A leg hooks over his shoulder - a heel digging into his back, tugging him closer. Logan loses himself - growling into your pussy. His own hips pressing down into the bed, as he tugs at his belt and button, relieving the too-tight ache of denim.

Feeling how you leak against his palm, tighten around his fingers. Chase that winding pleasure as you arch into his mouth. A hand drifting off the bed, reaching. Grasping.

“Logan.” You’re begging again, pleading. For more, for anything. For him not to stop, and he leans into the way you tug at his hair, guiding him to the right spot.

You come with your fingers entwined with Wade’s. With your thighs clamped against Logan's ears as he rips a cry from you - long and loud - threatening to suffocate him.

Would be the way he’d choose to die, if he could.

The sounds come flooding back, as your thighs loosen. Boneless and languid, your smile wide as your fingers trace his scruff, the sharp curve of his jaw.

Perhaps he was wrong, to think he could silence Wade entirely. Your orgasm has only made him more vocal - complaints about how “fucking hard he is” mixing with rambling praise.

“Wilson.” He finds himself growling. Beckoning with two fingers, as Wade practically springs from the bag.

“Oh my GOD,” Wade is gushing, clambering onto the bed with him, “This is way better than joining the Avengers. Even if they do have Thor.”

“Huge praise.” You smile drunkenly, pushing yourself up to press your mouth against his.

And under his direct instructions, Logan finds that Wade almost listens.

“Get on your back,” He points, as you scooch to make room.

"Ooh, dirty." Wade grins, splaying out on his back, hands tucked under his head.

“No,” Logan makes a frustrated sound - ignoring another comment. A twirl of his finger, “The other way.”

His head is cradled near your hips now, legs stretched out toward the pillows.

Logan’s next words are a growl, “Now, clean her up.”

Wade groans, as he catches up.

“Fuck.” He whines, “Yeah. Come here, baby.”

Hands guiding you into place, your knees framing his head, as you face towards the headboard. Wade’s mouth already tipping up to meet you, a soft moan as his tongue swipes against your slit.

“I don’t want to hear you until she comes.” Logan rasps, and he can see the way Wade’s hips lift.

Just now catching the darkened fabric, where it tents.

Another thing to catalog.

Content for now to let his hands drift as he stands behind you at the edge of the bed, his chest pressing to your back. Sucking a mark in the hollow under your ear, feeling the buzz of your whine against his lips.

Hands cupping your breasts again, feeling their weight. Pinching at the tight peaks, before his thumb is smoothing over them.

Your eyes are blown wide, fingers curling against your thighs. Panting as the overstimulation tips towards pleasure, the feel of the sweet mouth below you soft and familiar.

Shifting as you sit, rocking back to where Logan’s cock presses against your lower back. His hands tugging at the zipper, shoving his jeans down as he works himself free. Kicking them off, after.

You gasp when you see him from over your shoulder, and he can’t help the way he twitches in his hand at the sound. Can’t pretend he isn’t leaking from tasting you, his cock heavy as he lets go to let it hang between his thighs.

“Fuck, that’s not fair.” It’s muffled, and you hum in agreement as Wade lifts you to get a better look, “God didn’t make you perfect enough as-is? Just had to make you proportional, you goddamn stallion.”

A derisive sound as his arm wiggles out from under you, fingers reaching.

“And Jesus H. Christ, look at the girth-”

Logan bats his hand away.

It should annoy him. That Wade isn’t listening. That he’s commenting on his cock - but it doesn’t.

Can’t help but think that in here, in this room, the chatter isn’t so bad. Would never admit that he’s wrong, just that when he’s admiring and not on a dumb-as-fuck tangent, it’s almost - flattering.

Maybe that’s too far. Tolerable, perhaps.

“You want my mouth?” You offer sweetly, breaking into his thoughts. Hungrily.

There’s a flash of white teeth as Logan smiles. A hand pressing gently against your back, until you’re stretched out over Wade.

“No. I’m still gonna fuck you, baby.” He rasps, “Just wanted a little peace and quiet while doing it.”

You moan, thighs inching wider. Head turned so you can watch the way he moves behind you. Adjusting your hips until your ass is in the air, his fingers gripping the base of his cock as he lines himself up.

“Keep going, Wilson.” He grits out, when the man goes still beneath them.

A rough chuckle rattles.

“Not a fucking chance, human tripod. I am SO watching this.”

Fuck it. He lets him.

Letting the tip of his cock press against your entrance. Wade’s arms curling around your thighs, holding you in place as you string tight above him.

“God, it’s even bigger from this angle. Feels like I’m in a goddamn eclipse right now.”

“Why do you sound surprised, babe?” Your voice is strained. Face buried against Wade’s stomach, fingers curled in the sheets, “I thought you guys fucked in the void.”

That fleeting curl of warmth leaves him.

“We what?” Logan growls, leaning back to glare at the peek of dark brown eyes, the top of a bald head he wants to slap.

Teeth bared, as he snarls, “We didn’t fuck. I beat the shit out of him in a goddamn van.”

“All night long.” Wade laughs - and then sighs fondly, “And isn’t that just the same thing?”

Fingers encircle his cock from below before he can retort, squeezing. A tug as he guides him into the tight clench of your pussy, and Logan thinks he really should just shove his claws into Wade’s dick.

But that desire bleeds away, as you stretch around him. The twin groans from beneath him, the sounds blending together.

“Oh,” You moan, clenching around him. Back arching, as he slips in another inch, “Makes sense. Was… was just wondering why it took you so long to join us.”

Logan goes still for a moment, with this new information. A realization that he could have had this the whole time, if he had asked.

That Wade hadn’t been joking before.

He groans, hips snapping forward. A grunt below as your knees squeeze against Wade’s throat, but from the way you squirm, Logan can tell that his mouth is at work again.

Teasing at your clit, as his own hips slowly start to move. Feet planting on the bedroom floor as his hands fit against your waist.

Using the leverage to drive himself deep. Hips flush as his balls slap against your skin, growing sticky with your release.

“This is hot, this is so fucking hot,” Wade groans, babbling as he sucks in a breath, “I’m so going to jerk my dick raw thinking about this later.”

And with the reminder, he supposes he can throw his roommate a bone.

“Come on, baby,” Logan rasps - reaching. A little nudge against your chin, angling your head, “Looks like he needs a little help.”

It’s benevolent. It’s selfish - his fingers biting into skin as you realize what he means. Watching as you tug at the waistband of Wade’s sweatpants, pushing them down.

The man moans, from between your thighs. Sweet nothings mumbled as your hand wraps around his cock, angling it into your waiting mouth.

Watching how the leaking tip presses into your cheek. The buck of his hips as you fist moves, while you suck - your spit slicking up his cock.

It looks like the rest of him. Mottled skin, the tip flushed a deeper shade of red. Long and thick in your hand - Logan’s cock throbbing at the way you swallow him down, how your lips part to make him fit.

His pace picking up. Pounding into your tight, wet cunt as Wade groans against your clit. Tongue lapping and licking, winding you higher as Logan drives you towards a second.

Slowly drifting, as the flicks of his tongue grow longer. The tip pressing against your folds, as you groan around his cock.

Further down. Tasting the tang of your release - the salt of skin where you’re split open, stretched wide.

And then further. Logan jerks, as something wet drags along his shaft.

“Wade.” It comes out as a rough growl. Pitching into a huffing whine when it happens again, flattening against the heavy weight of his balls.

Choking him, as his rhythm stutters. Hips flexing into you as he grinds himself flush, teeth gritting.

“Fuck.” It’s hushed, pulled from his lungs.

Having to find himself again - hold back the urge to come right that second - as you squirm beneath him. Wade’s tongue traveling from your clit to the tight seam of his sack, his hips rocking in your mouth.

Finding a rhythm together, Logan’s head tilting back. The room filled with lewd sounds of their joining, of wet mouths and the rhythmic pounding of the headboard against the wall.

Lucky that Al was out for the morning, or else they’d never hear the end of it.

Your cries pitch up, as his cock drags against the spot his fingers found. Something clenching deep in his guts, eyes dragging down to how you look wrapped around him. The pink peek of tongue beneath, how the combination makes his toes curl.

Imagining another morning. Sharing you in another way, his cock buried in your ass while your lover fills your cunt. Whimpering between them, unable to form words.

The sound you make now are not that different - the cadence of your panting is one he’s coming to recognize.

“You close, sweetheart?” He rasps, arcing over you, “Can feel your pussy clenching around me. So fucking tight, can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock.”

It pulls a moan from you, head lifting from Wade’s cock. Resting against his stomach, as your hand wraps around him. The jerk of your fist messy, off rhythm.

“Yeah, you are.” Logan hums, as his hips rut into you, “Come on, Wilson. Make our girl come.”

There’s a rough groan. Wade listens for once, head tilting to suck at your clit. Logan concentrating on the angle that makes you cry out, a hand fisting in the sheets.

Their names a mumbled mess on your lips, as you’re yanked higher and higher. Your moans pitching up, growing louder.

Just like his dreams. Even better, really.

“Please,” You whine, “I’m, I’m-”

A high-pitched gasp, then, as your face buries against Wade’s hips. As your pussy clamps down around his cock, fluttering with the steady saw of his hips.

“Good fucking girl.” The praise is soft, as his thumbs rub circles against your skin, “That’s it, let him taste how sweet you are.”

Working together, the tight licks against your clit going lazy again. Dipping to your entrance to taste your release against his shaft, Wade’s cock leaking and bobbing against his stomach.

Drawing out your pleasure, until the stars fade from your half-lidded eyes. Until the rushing in your veins ebb, and the pulse around his cock fades.

A low sigh, before Logan’s reaching - his chin tucking against your shoulder. His hand curling around yours, guiding it back to Wade's cock.

“Don’t forget about him.” Another command, but gentle this time. His hand moving with yours, palm mapping your knuckles as he sets a rhythm, “There you go.”

He could let go. You’ve found yourself again, eyes hazy. But he keeps his hand there. Keeps a pace that is so much firmer than your own, his own hips matching the rhythm as he chases his own end.

Wade’s groan replaces yours. A hand leaving your thigh to wrap around his, biting down hard into muscle. It only drives him deeper into you. Logan’s own moan bitten back as the tongue against his dick slips against his sack again.

Then against the thin layer of skin just behind, teasing.

“Fuck.” It’s a rough growl.

His hand works faster, teeth gritting. Feral sounds caught in his throat, as the pressure in his belly grows.

The last thing he sees before he comes is the drips of white against his knuckles. The warmth, a ragged groan against the inside of his thigh. Your mouth closing around to catch the rest, taking Wade’s cock into your throat with a soft sigh.

It robs him of his breath. A shuddering moan, as he grinds himself deep. Spilling into you again and again with each pulse of his cock, blood rushing in his ears.

Legs threatening to give as he empties himself, as his chest presses flush against your back. His face buried in your hair, as your tongue traces his knuckles. Cleaning them, as he did for you.

When he can, Logan eases from you with a grunt. Watching how you gape, then clench, now empty.

A bead of his release welling up, dripping against your skin. You go to move, but Wade’s hands curl around your calves - pulling you flush.

It’s hard to look away, as he licks away Logan’s come. A sharp ache of desire with the sound of a needy groan, as his tongue dipping inside.

Maybe Wade doesn’t have such a bad mouth, after all.

Logan’s arm is numb, but he can’t bring himself to move. Can’t remember a time when he’d let his brain turn off like this. A brief moment of silence, and it’s bliss. His world standing still.

“So that’s how you do it.” You muse quietly, dizzily. Head cradled against his chest - fingers dragging through the hair, gently scratching.

A stirring on his other side, where Wade is using his bicep like a pillow.

“Mm, I don’t think I got it,” Wade counters, but it’s soft - hazy at the edges. “Think I missed a couple steps. Was that round two or three?

"Three," You say - as Logan grunts, "Two."

The fingers on his chest drift down, dipping over his stomach.

“Well, either way...” You hum, snuggling a little closer, “Maybe you oughta show us, one more time.”

Wade flips over then, chin propped in his hand, “At least. Maybe even twice. We’re bad learners, peanut. Dumb as fucking rocks, really.”

“Mhmm,” You sigh, “Really dumb. Can't even count.”

And he can’t stop the twitch of his lips, even with his eyes closed. Had forgotten what it was like to be warm like this.

To be wanted.

And maybe, he even feels… content.

Something he never thought he’d be, again.

thank you so much for reading! it means so much and I am so happy to be dipping my toes into these pairings💖

[homeofthelonelywriter]

“That’s it. I’m done.” Simon, who had been laser-focused on his phone - he might or might’ve not been looking at engagement rings online - glanced up, frowning as he watched you walk to the kitchen. Your back was turned to him so that he couldn’t see your facial expression, but your tone suggested you weren’t happy. He quickly stood up and followed you to the kitchen, where he watched you turn on the kettle.

“What is it, love?” You didn’t turn to look at him, instead furiously searching the cabinets before trudging back to the bathroom, where you had just come from. “I’m sick of it, Si. I’m gonna go to the doctor and have them rip the whole thing out.” Realization dawned on the soldier. It was time again.

Confused, he pulled up the menstruation app on his phone and checked on your cycle. You were a few days early this month, which explained why he hadn’t received a notification yet. With a deep sigh, he followed you, finding you in the bathroom, once again searching through cabinets. Without a word, he opened one you hadn’t looked into yet and pulled out the fuzzy hot water bottle you were looking for. You turned to look at him, tears in the corner of your eyes, and your lips jutted out in a pout.

“I know, love. Come, let me help, yeah?” You nodded, holding up your arms, until he picked you up. Without even as much as a grunt, he lifted you into his arms, carrying your bridal style to your bedroom, where he laid you down and tucked you in. “I’ll be right back, darling.” After pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he disappeared out the door and rushed down to the kitchen, where he prepared your hot water bottle just the way you liked. He also grabbed a mug and made you your favorite tea, knowing that the warmth would help with your cramps.

Before leaving, he grabbed your favorite snacks and a soft blanket from the living room. Then he made his way back to you. In the bedroom, you were curled up on one side, cradling your cramping stomach. After setting the tea down on your nightstand, Simon gently made you uncurl and pressed the hot water bottle against your abdomen, over a blanket, where he knew the cramps always were. “There you go, love.” The snacks were dropped beside the bed as he wrapped the extra blanket around you. “I’ll just grab some more stuff, and then we can spend the day here, cuddling, okay?” You nodded, still pouting and slightly wincing when another cramp hit.

Simon hated seeing you like this, so he rushed around the house, grabbing something cold to drink, pain meds, and anything else you liked to have nearby when you were hurting before returning to the bedroom and jumping into bed. The moment he had crawled underneath the blanket, you latched onto him, your very own heater, and he wrapped his arm around you, holding the TV remote with his free hand. Already knowing all your comfort movies and series, he put one of them on, before relaxing and pulling you closer.

A comfortable silence fell over you two as you watched whatever was playing on TV, Simon’s fingers absentmindedly massaging your stomach, trying to ease the cramps, when an idea came to you. Suddenly, heat started to pool between your legs as you glanced up at your boyfriend. “Si?” He grunted in response, surprisingly focused on the TV. “Si?” You repeated yourself, this time capturing his attention. He was already halfway out the bed, thinking that you’d ask him to get you something, but you pulled him back. “Give me a baby, Si.” He stared at you, all wide-eyed and confused for a second before he pounced on you. Let’s just say it didn’t take you long to get your wish.

Part 2

A/N: Definitely not projecting. Definitely not writhing in pain rn.

[sttoru]

plsplsplspl soft intimate sex with satoru:(

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. gojo satoru x female reader. smut, pwp. unprotected. praise kink. spooning position. crēampie. cōckwarming. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty, sweetheart, princess’

“it’s okay, baby, i know,” satoru whispers words of comfort in your ear from behind. one of his arms is wrapped around your waist to keep your body close, the other circles your thigh, holding up your leg so his cock could slide in and out smoothly.

you’ve both just woken up from an afternoon nap, needy for each other’s touch. your lover’s raspy voice paired with his bedhead has been an irresistible combination.

satoru wasted no time in pulling your shorts down and freeing his erection from its confines. he went from rolling his hips against the fat of your ass and fondling your tits under your shirt, to burying his fat dick all the way up your cunt.

he’s so soft—so caring. his butterfly kisses make you drowsy again, the tingly sensations running from your face to your nape, and back down to your shoulders and upper arms. “let it out, yeah—good girl. don’t be shy,” satoru chuckles softly as he grinds his cock upwards, tip prodding at that sweet spot that makes your toes curl.

your eyes are half-lidded and blurry. you’re feeling so good and loved, so pleased and happy to have a partner like him. “right there, ‘toru,” you whimper quietly once you feel the head of his dick rub back and forth on the deepest parts of your velvety insides. satoru happily obliges, hugging your body even tighter to his chest before burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“here, baby?” the white-haired man asks, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it ghosts over your skin. he keeps his dick balls deep inside you and switches to slow and shallow strokes, “y’re so pretty. you always know jus’ how to take it. so, so, so good.”

your hands are scrambling to hold onto the white sheets. you can’t physically take the amount of pleasure you’re getting, that inevitable peak gets closer and closer. your hips involuntarily jolt back against satoru, reciprocating his gentle thrusts. a big hand reaches out to yours that’s tugging at the covers, slender fingers intertwining with your own.

“m’sgood,” you mumble incoherently through a soft whimper. your back is positioned in a nasty arch that makes satoru’s dick tingle. he sighs against your nape before allowing his tongue to wet the skin, sucking on the same spot soon after. he does the same to your sensitive ears and neck—covering you with his love while also filling your body with the same.

satoru holds your hand tightly, squeezing it every now and then to reassure you. “i love you so much, y’know that, right?” he says in a gentle tone. he’s confessed his love to you so many times before, though he always makes it sound like it’s his first time doing so.

“i’m never letting you go, ever,” your partner promises before leaning over your shoulder to catch your lips in a kiss. satoru’s tongue sweeps over your bottom lip before rolling around in your warm mouth. his hips don’t stop, cock repeatedly appearing and disappearing inside of your pussy. the pace never escalates to make the moment last longer.

“mhmm— wanna b-be with you forever,” you mutter against his glossy lips, feeling safe and protected in satoru’s embrace like this. all you’re feeling, hearing and smelling is him. that’s what peace is for you. as long as you got him, you’re going to be just fine.

satoru smiles at your words. you feel so perfect around him, your cunt molded to fit his cock whenever he pleases, remembering its shape and allowing it to ruin your insides. “of course, sweets. i’ll treat you so well, ‘kay? you can count on me,” he comforts you with a forehead kiss.

“pretty girl. you’re perfect,” satoru continues to praise you like no other. his free hand runs over the small of your back and back to your thigh, keeping a gap between them so his cock can move a bit more freely. “let me hear your cute moans, c’mon. fuck, y’ turn me on so much,” he sighs, not knowing what he’d do without you.

satoru is obsessed with all of you. the combination of your personality and looks is heavenly. his lips never stop distracting you, his tender kisses covering your entire upper body. the lovey dovey atmosphere in the room never dulls even once.

“ah, ‘toruu, hnghh—can’t last f’ any longer,” you moan, your eyes nearly rolling back. your lover is all the evidence needed to let you know that sex doesn’t have to be rough to be good. he can make you cum for an infinite amount of times by simply grinding his hips against you—changing his techniques every now and then.

rolling his hips in small circles or simply pressing his cock all the way inside your cunt and then prodding at your sweet spots, is all what’s needed to make you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

“aww, my poor baby. can’t hold it in f’me?” satoru pouts before kissing your temples lovingly. he caresses your hip, other hand still not letting go of your hand. there’s such a deep connection between you two—no one can ever sever it. that strong bond feels more intimate when you’re merged into one like this.

“nooo, can’t,” you shake your head and whine about how close you are. satoru nods at your needy words and dips a hand down to rub your clit. his middle and ring finger move around the small bundle of nerves in circles. “khehe, that’s okay. let’s cum together,” he whispers as kisses find their way down your jawline.

you hum in agreement, little moans filling satoru’s ears as you get closer to your climax. your body trembles and heats up, your tummy tingles and tenses up. satoru’s in the same situation as you, his low moans turning into hisses and even quiet whines against the skin of your shoulder.

he holds you close, preparing both of you to reach your long awaited releases. “sh—shit, ‘m g’nna pull out, baby—give me a second,” you hear him whimper under his breath as his hand tightens its grip around yours. he’s nearly crushing your bones.

you don’t give him time to even think of pulling his cock out. you want to relive the sensation of having his seed spread inside of your cunt, overflowing until it’s dirtying the sheets. “no- ‘toru. inside, please,” you beg quietly as your pussy locks around his cock. your walls cling onto his dick, yearning to milk his heavy balls dry of every drop.

satoru gasps and hisses, trying to speak up, but getting overpowered by his own noises of desperation. “fuck, all right, princess. as you wish,” his voice is husky and deep as he pushes his cock in to the base before dumping his load inside you.

ropes of hot cum come out quickly, one after the other, filling you with a hot creamy liquid. you can feel every drop being drained inside your spasming cunt. your own cum mixes with his, creating a lewd mess between your thighs.

“th-thank you,” you whisper tiredly. your body relaxes in satoru’s embrace. you’re trembling due to the intense aftershocks and your lover wastes no time into kissing it better. your forehead is peppered with small pecks, the rest of your face following.

satoru giggles at your fucked out state. he gives you a head pat and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. you can feel him grinning uncontrollably against your skin—the joy emitting from him is contagious.

“any time,” he sighs. you can feel his cock softening after that release, still nestled deep inside of you. he has no intention of pulling out, especially since it’s so comfortable. you let him cum inside you and thus he’ll do everything to keep that hot load buried deep inside your cunt.

you can nearly fall asleep like this with satoru. you have zero complains and simply need to relax after what just happened. perhaps take another nap or two.

the white-haired man kisses your shoulder and rubs your lower tummy, enjoying the softness, “i’m gonna prepare us a warm, relaxing bath in a second. let’s just cuddle some more, baby.”

[stunie]

i just WOKE UP !!?????!!!!!!

2024.07.15 — dinner date with Ume. ♡

(hands up if you know where the reference photo’s froooommmmm!!!! >:3 aju nice.)

[nanaslutt]

roommates!gojo & geto jerking each other off while thinking abt their cute neighbor they both want soooo bad

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

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

“do it harder.” geto groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as he laid back against satoru’s pillows. said man currently had his hand wrapped around his cock, albeit poorly. his hand was soft as fuck, but he was touching him like he had never touched a dick before. “jerk me off how you jerk yourself off.”

gojo snorted, his words breathy as he spoke, “what if i like it soft?” geto shook his head and curled his toes when gojo wrapped his hand around him tighter. “these walls are thin, i’ve heard you having sex and i know you don’t like it soft. those poor girls.”

gojo laughed, “they love it, i think she would love it too.” he said. geto licked his lips, starting to paint an image in his head. “what would you do to her?” he asked tentatively, his eyebrows furrowing together when gojo focused on his cock head like the bastard he was.

“mmm i think id start with fingering her.” gojo said. “i’ve seen her a couple times in the laundry room bend over in those tiny shorts—you know the ones. and her-“ he stopped talking to groan when geto stroked over a particularly sensitive vein. “they don’t cover much.”

geto nodded, seeing you bent over in his head. “you think she’s sensitive?” geto asked, cracking his eyes open to peek at gojo. his eyes were lidded and focused on the hand around his cock. geto tried not to shy away when he felt his pre cum drip into his hand. he’d never jerked anyone off before—besides himself.

“oh yeah,” gojo responded, biting his plush lip. for some reason it made geto’s mouth water. “i think… fuck, i think i could make her squirt with just my fingers.” gojo’s face was getting flushed now. it made geto want to tease him. “yeah?” he asked, squeezing his hand tighter around his shaft and relishing in his reaction when he sucked in a breath through his teeth and arched his back. “would you make her squirt all over our couch?”

gojo moaned at his filthy words and nodded, his head tipping back against the headboard. “yeah.” geto nodded, looking at his roommate even though his eyes were closed. “what would you do if i walked in when you were making her cum?” he asked, paying attention to the head of his cock.

“i-id let you suck my fingers clean.” he groaned, making geto’s balls throb at the visual. “god, she’d probably get so hot… trying to press her thighs together watching me suck your fingers.” gojo nodded, his mouth falling open in a small O.

“would you want her pussy or her ass?” geto asked, his breath coming more quickly. “ass, i know it’s so tight and warm. god. would you want her at the same time?” geto nodded despite him being unable to see. “yeah, just think about how good she would look with tears down her face trying to take us both.”

suddenly, a hand way being wrapped around his wrist. geto opened his eyes fully and watched with rapt attention as gojo cursed before his back arched. he continued stroking him, despite knowing what was gonna happen. he cringed when hot ropes of cum spilled from his dick, coating his hand and his cock and making a lewd sound from the stroking.

gojo gripped geto’s wrist to stop him, and geto pulled it away and made a face at the mess on his hand. gojo also had stopped jerking him off, just weakly holding his throbbing cock. “that did it for you huh?” he teased. gojo laughed before removing his hand from geto’s cock.

gojo crawled off the edge of the bed and bent down to grab a towel to wipe his cock clean with. geto gripped his cock and languidly started stroking, waiting for gojo to help him get off. “your turn, one minute man. come keep this fantasy going so i can blow all over your hand and pretend it’s hers.”

a cruel smile twisted on gojo’s face before he dropped the towel and zipped his pants back up. “i’m sure you can finish yourself off.” getos mouth opened in disbelief. “if you need some help, i have porn from last night still up on my laptop, feel free to check it out. it’s really good stuff.” with a wink, he left geto gaping and alone in HIS room with his stiff cock in his hand.

fucking biiiitch.

[poguelandiarafe]

showered in secrets | drew starkey

pairings - drew starkey x secretgf!reader

warnings - smut, unprotected sex (p in v)

summary - you and drew are in a secret relationship. or at least it’s a secret until drew forgets it is and follows you into the shower, prompting madelyn to interrogate you as to what he was doing.

masterlist

--------

the house is buzzing with excitement, the kind that only comes from the anticipation of a night out with your closest friends. you, along with drew, madison, jonathan and chase have decided to get ready at madelyn's house and have some drinks there before going out.

you're always at her house due to living close by and she always jokes about how you may as well move in from how often you're there, even to the point of having your own drawer full of clothes, shower stuff and a spare toothbrush. it's perfect for an impromptu sleepover.

"mads, can i use your shower please?" you ask, already going to grab your stuff.

"course, you know where it is." she replies, flashing you a smile.

you grab your stuff and a fresh towel and disappear into the bathroom. the sound of the shower running fills the bathroom as you step in, taking a minute to relax in the hot water. you're wrapped in your thoughts, unaware of drew letting himself in and calling out madelyn's name when he's met with a seemingly empty apartment.

----

meanwhile, drew is looking for you, a frown on his face when he sees you're not in the kitchen or living room. his frown deepens when he sees you're also not in madelyn's room while she's doing her hair.

"hey, is y/n here yet? thought she'd have been the first one here. not me." he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

"she was actually," madelyn laughs, curling the last piece of hair, "she's just in the shower."

"oh, thanks." drew smiles, already making a beeline for the bathroom before he has a chance to realise what he's doing.

"drew?" she says, but he's already gone, "she's showering!"

his brows furrow in confusion, wondering why that was an issue, forgetting your relationship was a secret, "yeah, i know!"

stepping into the bathroom, the steam surrounds him and he takes a few seconds to stare at you, not having noticed he's in there.

"you should lock the door you know." he smirks, leaning against the door.

his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you spin around, eyes widening in realisation that he might've just blown your relationship.

"what are you doing in here?" you hiss.

his smirk falters once the realisation seems to register and you watch as his eye widen, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out.

"oh my god, drew." you groan, a sigh leaving your lips.

"shit." he chuckles awkwardly, "i asked madelyn where you were and she told me you were showering and well, i've never really not thought about joining you in the shower and i didn't realise and i'm so sorry i-"

"come here, stop rambling." you cut him off, reaching a hand out with a soft smile on your face.

stepping towards you, he grabs your hand and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. your heart melts at the way he's looking at you and you can't help but lean forward and cup his jaw to bring him into a soft kiss.

"are you mad at me?" drew asks.

"no, but you have to sometimes think before following me into the shower."

his smirk returns and there's a playful glint in his eye, "i do think about it. that's why i always end up in the shower with you."

you roll your eyes but don't stop the giggle escaping your lips, "you're impossible."

drew hums in response before letting go of your hand and pulling his shirt over his head wanting to join you. you go to tell him it's a bad idea but he's already kicking away his trousers and boxers and stepping in, his tall frame towering over you.

"you know, i don't think mads would appreciate if we fucked in her shower." you mumble, but a smile tugs at your lips regardless, arms wrapping around his neck.

"hey, i said nothing about fucking," he leans closer, arms sliding around your waist, and whispers, "but i reckon we have at least a bit of time before she gets too suspicious, don't you?"

you scoff, shaking your head from his boldness, "you're a bad influence, drew."

"yet you still love me." he mumbles, starting to kiss your shoulder, trailing up to your neck.

"course i do," you reply with a genuine smile, "always going to."

drew smiles against your skin and playfully bites at your neck, teasing you. you're so close to giving in, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin and large hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. glancing at the door, you bite your lip, contemplating, knowing your friends might be just down the hall by now.

"fuck it."

pulling his face from your neck, you stand on your tiptoes and capture his lips in a heavy kiss. he reacts instantly, walking you a few steps backward until your back is pressed against the cool tiled wall. the kiss is intense, messy, desperate, making you forget all about the fact your friends are probably wondering where you two are.

he pulls back, breathless, "gotta be quick."

rolling your eyes, you tease, "wow, romantic."

"shut up." he murmurs, but there's no malice in his words, "don't have time for foreplay baby, you gonna be okay?"

"mhmm, i'll be fine."

drew's arms encircle your waist again and lift you up, letting your legs wrap around him. your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck and you look down in between your bodies, watching as he strokes himself a few times.

"ready?" he asks, noticing the way your breath hitches when he positions himself at your entrance.

"yeah."

he pushes forward, both of you letting out a low groan at the feeling. the stretch is teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, your jaw dropping in a silent moan. slowly, he continues to fill you until he's bottomed out, patiently waiting for you to tell him to move.

"shit," he moans when your pussy clenches around his length, "feel so good baby, so tight."

"move." you breathe out, head lolling forward to rest on his shoulder.

the sound of skin slapping soon fills the small bathroom and you can't help but bite down on drew's shoulder to silence the moans threatening to escape.

"look at me," he demands, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, "you okay?"

"harder," you beg, pulling slightly at his hair, "please."

immediately, he complies, thrusting deeper and harder than before. you don't even realise how loud you're being until drew's lips are back on yours in an attempt to silence you.

you throw your head back when a particularly harsh thrust hits your g-spot perfectly and drew takes the opportunity to slide a hand down to rub circles on your clit.

"c-close." you whine, squirming in his arms due to your high quickly approaching.

as much as he loves to hear every moan and noise he can draw out of you, there's not a chance your relationship has the chance to stay a secret if he doesn't cover your mouth when you cum. so, he tells you to take over rubbing your clit and his hand covers your mouth instead, knowing any second now your high would hit you.

"cum for me y/n." he encourages, "come on pretty girl."

seconds later, your back is arching off the wall into his chest as your orgasm rips through you. his hips stutter, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him triggering his own orgasm.

"fuck, fuck, fuck." drew moans, his cum shooting into you.

his hand drops from your mouth, uncovering your giddy smile. you don't know how he still has the strength to hold you up, so you press a quick kiss to his lips and let him set you down, though your legs still feel like jelly.

"i love you." he mumbles, hands squeezing your hips as if emphasising his point.

"i love you too. think anyone heard us?" you question, grabbing your shampoo bottle, since you do still need to properly shower.

"probably."

----

ten minutes later, you're standing in front of the mirror staring at a faint hickey that's starting to form on your neck. clearly, your 'no visible marks' rule has gone out the window. you'd kicked drew out before getting on with washing your hair, not needing any more distractions. but now you wished you hadn't purely to get the chance to scold him for leaving a mark.

a voice brings you back to reality, "y/n? you out the shower? i need to pee."

it's madelyn.

"uh, yeah hold on!" you call back, readjusting your top and sorting out your hair, attempting to cover the mark.

when you open the door, she stands there, arms crossed. she's looking over you as if she knows something but can't quite figure out what.

then she spots it. what you thought was a faint mark turns out to be getting darker the more time passes. she decides not to bring it up though, wanting to see what you'll admit to her first.

"thought you needed to pee?"

"not anymore," madelyn replied, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her, "took you ages in the shower, you shaving your legs or something?"

you narrow your eyes at her, trying to figure out if she's being genuine or if she knows something. normally, she's easy to read, but now you don't know.

"just wanted to relax before the chaos hits soon." you gulp when she asks the next question.

"any idea why drew's hair was dry when he got here and it's now wet? or why he seemed to disappear for twenty minutes?"

your stomach flips and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. pathetic excuses fill your mind, excuses you know she'll never buy in a million years and you don't know what to say.

"what? how would i know? why're you asking me?" you laugh dryly.

"cause i know he had the whole 'greasy bangs' phase but i know drew enough to know he'd never be seen in public wearing this much hair gel and i don't have some luxurious pool he could've been using while i was finishing my hair."

"maybe he just... i don't know, splashed some water on his face or something?" you stammer, avoiding her gaze.

"okay, now i know you're lying. spill, i know something's going on with you two." madelyn smirks.

you sigh in defeat, "fine, but you can not say a word to anyone. i mean it."

her eyes light up and she nods quickly, "i promise. not a word. please tell me!"

you look between the door and her for a few seconds, thinking over the pros and cons, but she's your best friend. you have to tell her.

"i-uh, okay. me and drew are together. and not in a 'friends with benefits' kind of way. like, we're dating, have been for about four months," madelyn's jaw dropped, her hand covering her mouth, "but it's a secret so please don't mention it to anyone later. you're the only one that knows."

"oh my god, i knew it. you're so cute together." she squeals, hugging you.

"keep your voice down!" you whisper-shout but return her hug nonetheless.

"i want details later." she pleads.

"yes boss."

"also, i know you guys totally just had sex in the shower. i don't care, but if you don't want anyone to find out, cover the hickey. the hickey makes it so obvious." she winks at you before leaving the bathroom.

yeah, you definitely need to cover that.

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

Sitting on Toji's lap, watching TV together as he knocks back a couple beers. He keeps the bottle nestled between your legs when he's not sipping on it, his arm resting on your upper thigh area while his other hand mindlessly rubs and grabs at your tummy over your shirt. Every once in a while he leans in close to press a kiss to your temple and checks in on you. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, but he's pretty well behaved for being intoxicated, you think.

You don't know if he's occasionally rubbing the bottle against your crotch on purpose or if it's something he's unknowingly doing. Maybe he's fidgeting with it to give his hand something to do. You scoot back, away from the bottle, just incase he isn't doing it on purpose.

He stills the movement of his hand when you shift in his lap, moving away from where he keeps his bottle. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" He asks, his warm breath fanning against your ear. His free hand moves down to squeeze your inner thigh, the joint of his thumb grazing your pelvis.

"No, you're okay," you respond, putting your hand on his, turning briefly to smile at him before facing the TV again.

Toji progressively moved the bottle so that it ended up back between your thighs, the body of it rubbing up against you again, causing you to jolt at the sensation.

"What's wrong, pretty?" he murmurs, into your ear, his lips curled into a devilish smirk.

"The bottle..." you mumble, coy about addressing what's had your firm attention for a while now.

He peeks down at the evidence, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looks at the way the bottle is pushed snug up against your cunt.

"You're dirty, mama," he teases, a deep chuckle rumbling through his chest. "You're liking it, aren't you?"

"What? You're the one trying to get me off with your-"

"Shh..." once again you're met with a whiff of the alcohol lingering on his breath. You can taste remnants of it through the sloppy, wet kisses he steals from you. "You're liking it, aren't you?" He repeats, grinning at your flustered expression. "Look at her, look at her," he says, which only makes your cheeks burn even more, when he laughs, mockingly. "You are."

You sigh. He may be drunk, but he's not wrong.

"Say it, baby," he purrs, into your neck. "Say it and i'll make you cum sooo hard." He teases you with a rub of the bottle against your clothed clit.

"Fucking hell," you mutter under your breath, feeling pathetic for giving in to his game. "Fine. I liked it. It felt good. Is that what you wanna hear?"

"Fuck yeah. Wanna make my pretty girl cum in her shorts," he says, immediately rubbing the body of the bottle against your crotch.

"I-If i'm dirty..." you release a sharp breath. "Then you're a pervert."

"Mhm. All for you, sweetheart." He palms at your chest over your tank top, squeezing while moving his hand in circles. He can feel your stiffened nipples through the thin material. He takes turns rolling the clothed buds between fingers to make sure that they stay stiff, but also because he knows how turned on you get when he plays with your breasts. "Such a dirty girl," he says, sultrily, into your ear. "Letting me get you off with a beer bottle. Little freak." You arch off his chest, in his lap, a short barrage of whimpers reaching his ears. He pulls you back into him, his arm firm over your chest. "Doesn't take away from how pretty you are." His voice is so deep, you can feel it in your guts.

"Toji-"

"No, it fuckin' doesn't," he growls, into your ear. "'S why i've always got my hands on you, tryna fuck like some filthy dog. Mmm... baby, just can't help myself around you. I'm not gonna stop. Can't do it."

You whimper, writhing against him as he continues to grind the bottle against your cunt. His rambling shouldn't be as hot as it is, but god, you don't want him to shut up. It's fueling how close you are to cumming because of how he maneuvers the stupid bottle.

"You wet for me? Soaked?"

"Fuck- Yes, Toji," you moan, hands gripping at his thighs.

He hums, content with your response. "Yeah? Gonna cum?" His hand goes beneath your shirt to feel your bare skin on it. He drives his palm up your torso, towards your chest, his fingertips meeting your left nipple, rubbing until it's stiffened like before.

"Mhm," you nod. "Please... Please!"

"Such a loud, needy little thing. I can feel your heat making its way up the bottle." He laughs, again, like he's making fun of you for being so turned on for his perverse actions. Like he wasn't the one who started this. Scarred lips attach to the nape of your neck, kissing gently like he's apologizing for being mean. "Cum for me, baby," he says, speeding up the movement of the bottle against your clit. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, and your body instantly reacts.

"Oh fuck, T-Toji, fuck, oh my god," you cry out, falling into the void of pleasure produced by this unorthodox object. You trap the bottle between your thighs and grind against it, greedily taking control of your pleasure. Toji holds the bottle still and just watches you, his tired eyes absorbing every one of your movements and expressions as you shamelessly ride out your entire orgasm.

"Fuck..." you whimper, eyes shut as your hips stutter to a halt.

He pulls his hand out of your shirt, entirely speechless for a few seconds. You didn't even notice, too far into your post orgasm bliss.

Toji sighs, feeling as tired as you because of the alcohol. He turns the TV off and takes the bottle out from between your thighs, setting it down on the ground before putting your dazed self into a more comfortable position to sleep in—curled up against his chest. "You're so hot, baby... Too bad I can't fuck you like this," he mumbles, tiredly.

"Mhm," you hum, already dozing off. Toji lays his head back on the couch cushion and shuts his eyes. In less than a minute, he falls asleep, too.