#dom!Belle
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thechaoticdruid · 11 months ago
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Short and spicy Astarion x M!Tav headcanons MDNI
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Astarion prefers to ride Tav when he bottoms.
He pins Tav down and slams his ass down on his hips with enough force to almost break his pelvis.
All the while Astarion tells Tav how good he feels inside him.
If Tav tries to pin him down he gets punished.
"Tut tut, naughty boy that's not allowed~."
Tav's punishment is being pinned facedown with his ass being pounded roughly.
Then once everything is finished Astarion snuggles up in Tav's lap like a little princess who didn't just fuck him silly.
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vampcubus · 1 year ago
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hii ashi ive got a fun little thought for u
imgagine kyojuro, despite how strong he is, can never ride you for more than a few minutes. kyo always tries his best, but his legs always get so shakey and sore everytime by how overwhelming it is, that you have to help him fuck himself on your strap :((
bell u are a godsend i haven't been able to get this idea out of my mind since u sent it and now that i have coherent thoughts...
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!kyojuro, dom!reader, pegging, master kink, overstimulation, long orgasm, not proofread.
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Kyojuro's trained to have incredible stamina, but it's like it all goes away and his legs turn to jelly when he's bottoming. He tries so hard to keep going, to keep bouncing on your cock but his legs are shaking and he lets out a frustrated whine. He slows down, looking about ready to cry when his orgasm slips out of his grasp.
"Aw, do you need help, baby?" you purr, watching him struggle with half-lidded eyes, amusement glinting in them. He was so cute it wasn't fair really, his steadily bouncing cock especially, which flops neglected against his belly with each pitiful thrust.
"Please help me. I'm sorry I can't do it myself any longer," he sobs, and you only croon, sitting up so you can adjust him, slipping your hands underneath his ass so you can spread him open and start to bounce him up and down on you. You thrust up into him and the head catches on a spot that makes him squeal, clinging onto you and slurring grateful open-mouthed kisses across your neck and shoulder. "Thank you! ohh thank you, master!"
"S'ok, master's got you. You don't gotta lift a finger. Let me do all the work. It's okay," you pant, a satisfying ache settling in your abdominals as you fuck up into him and press his hips down at the same time. He's all but howling with pleasure, lips sucking marks into the tender flesh of your throat. "There's a good boy."
He moans aloud at your praise, golden eyes rolling back as he loses himself to the pleasant scrape of the toy against his sensitive inner walls. You're practically abusing his prostate, fucking the sense right out of his muscled yet soft body. God he's so handsome, and burly, yet he falls apart and arches for you so prettily.
"Feels so good, m-master. Fffuck! Fuck, I feel so good!" Kyojuro wails, hand shooting to his cock to stroke it. You let him, eager to watch him unravel for you. "I-I'm gonna c-cum soon! Please, please may I cum?"
"Mhm, let it all out baby. Look at me while you cum all over my cock, yeah?" He tears himself away from your neck, teary honey and rose-colored eyes swimming with overwhelmed tears.
You fuck up into him harder at the sight, growling in delight and his hand speeds up on his cock. His dewy lashes flutter, fighting the urge to close. He wants to obey you, to be good for you. The knot in his belly finally snaps and he shouts in alarm as cum spills out of him, painting your stomach with seed as he thrashes and wails.
You bounce his body up and down on you through his orgasm, and he sobs, overstimulated. He stares at you with a desperate look, trembling as he continues to convulse and spurt for longer than he usually would.
"Oh gods! Oh gods! Unhh I-I can't stop cumming. O-oh fuck!" Kyojuro cries helplessly, though his hand keeps milking his own cock, the slippery, frantic movement making an obscene squelching sound.
"Shhh, just let it all out, sweetheart," you comforted, nudging his hand away from his sticky cock to replace it with your own. He flinches when you stroke him with a tight fist, wringing more cum out of him.
"A-ah okay, master. mhhh ahh!" he finally stops erupting, slumping against you with his head on your shoulder, exhausted and twitching like mad. You affectionately thumb at his tip a while longer as he softens in your grasp, before heeding his whimpers of 'no more.' and 'too sensitive.'
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charcoalgrayswriting · 3 months ago
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Drop
Read on AO3 HERE!
Words: 2968
Summary: After a honeypot mission with a dom, she is suffering from subdrop. After noticing this, Adler helps her out. (OFC is not described, and can be interpreted as Bell)
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“Fuck,” she grumbled as she stumbled against the ugly patterned wallpaper as she tripped over her own two feet. Sighing she forced her tired aching back to straighten, despite the dizziness and black spots it caused. 
Adler had called her to his room to discuss something. However, she had already been in bed and half asleep, so he would have to just deal with her lack of professional attire. She had simply thrown a hotel-provided robe over her pajamas, not even bothering with a bra. 
Shoulders rolling back, she knocked on the wooden hotel door. The motion caused some nausea, and the knocking made her head pound, but nonetheless she pushed through. 
It was yanked open, revealing Adler standing in the doorway with a lit cigarette perched between his teeth. He almost looked… soft, or maybe domestic with his work polo unbuttoned and untucked, hair mussed, and signature shades swapped out for a pair of normal glasses. It made a part of her want to submit and sink to her knees, before she shoved her urges down and forced the fantastical thought away.
 “Good, you’re here,” he muttered, and she tried not to let it show how his unintentional praise affected her. It was like pouring warm honey into the cold empty pit inside her stomach she’d had since the last op. She didn’t think she was very successful, judging by his subvocal hum and the aborted upward twitch of his lips. 
Ushering her into the room, he sat her down at the small table, standing just behind her. Before she could turn her head around and ask just what he thought was doing, two large warm hands landed on her tired shoulders, forcing her to keep still with a simple squeeze before they traveled under her nightshirt. A non-verbal order that she hastened to obey with a shudder. 
Adler always exuded a certain amount of dominance that was nearly overwhelming on a good day. Whether or not he intended it to be was unclear, but with her state the way it was after her last mission, well, it was nearly unbearable. It made her lean back into the warmth of his body, ever so slightly tilting her neck to expose it to him. Submitting to him in a way she never allowed herself to before. 
The pleased noise he made nearly made her cry with relief. When he began to work at the tense muscles in her shoulders a low whine broke from her lips before she could even attempt to stop it. She didn’t know it was possible to become more tense, but somehow, she did despite all his hard work. 
The urge to run warred with her instinct to be good, to stay put like he had commanded. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to, and it nearly paralyzed her. 
“Well isn’t that interesting.” Adler all but purred, and she could practically feel the smile on his face, even if she couldn’t see it. 
Nausea and shame curled in her gut as she tried to turn around and face him, swaying as she did so. “Adler I can expl-” 
Clamping his hands down on her shoulders, Adler stilled her. “Oh?” Leisurely, he continued to work at the knots in her shoulders, and the easing of her muscles made her slump forwards so that her nose almost touched the hotel table. 
“Mhm,” eyelids drooping, she tried to force herself up, fight the impending subspace, but failed. A small huff of laughter could be heard behind her, though she could barely muster up enough strength to feel indignant on her own behalf. 
“You’ve been doing so well,” The praise hit her like a punch to the gut, and she let out another whine, this one closer to a wheeze. 
“Oh you liked that, didn’t you?” He paused as he dug his calloused fingers into a particularly tough knot, letting out a small grunt, before continuing. “You know, I’ve been watching you.” 
Though her mind recoiled at the statement, she found that her body was unwilling to move. Maybe she could trick herself into thinking it was just her biology, urging her to let him put her under. 
But she knew the truth. No other dom she had met had the effect on her that he did. Though she did kneel for them, she’d never felt the urge, simply doing it to take care of her biological needs. 
Ever since the last op, she had been dropping, hard. She felt dizzy, nauseous, pained, empty, and cold all at once. And now, Adler was helping her through it, her prior positive experiences with him seemed to be enough for her subconscious to want to obey him. He had proven himself to be a capable dom. Good at taking care of his people, willing to provide, and dole out fair punishment. And it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t all that bad to look at, either. 
“At first I thought your file was wrong.” Fingers holding her head in place by the jaw, Adler’s thumbs pressed into the base of her skull, where her head met her spine, kneading it slowly. The migraine that had been plaguing her, magically, mercifully, reduced. Breath stuttering, she felt such relief she could cry. She held back, for that would only make the pain worse, though her eyes still watered. 
“I mean, you acted so much like the rest of us, so much like a dom that I just couldn’t see you as a sub.” Adler tilted her head back, pulling her up and into his chest, leaning her into him. His body was warm, the scent of cologne and cigarettes wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. Inch by traitorous inch, her body began to relax into him. 
A firm hand wrapped gently around her throat. She should be panicking, these hands were responsible for the deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands. Not only that, she knew that he would not hesitate to end her with them if he thought she was a threat. Instead, she just felt safe with his calluses scraping along the delicate skin of her neck. 
“But then I began to notice things. Little things that most people overlook” His thumb began to rub up and down her pulse, his other hand twirling his lit cigarette around in her peripheral vision. 
“You lean into anyone who touches you,” much like she was just now. Hastily, she tried to pull away from Adler, only to have him stop her, pressing back her against his chest with his firm but gentle grip on her neck, squeezing it lightly in warning. 
“Careful now,” and she took the reprimand for what it was, a pained whine sneaking through her lips before she could stop it as the gaping pit in her stomach deepened. 
“Your eyes light up beautifully at praise,” her cheeks heated at Adler’s murmured proclamation, trying to shrink in on herself before remembering his reprimand. He didn’t verbally acknowledge this, but he did huff another laugh. She didn’t want to, but she treasured the rare sound. 
He sighed, continuing on when she settled, his thumb rhythmically stroking across her carotid artery. “You de-escalate well, don’t immediately start a fight unless there’s no other option.”
“You show a high degree of emotional intelligence, not normally seen in doms.” She tilted her head up to stare at him through heavy lidded eyes, halfway to subspace with no more than light praise and a gentle touch. It should have made her feel pathetic, had her brain not already shut off all higher thinking. Once all this was over, she would feel embarrassed for how little it took for Adler to get her to relax. 
Adler continued on, the hand holding his cigarette coming to rest on her shoulder, the lit end pointed away from her face. “You know exactly how far to push, and how to push to get the intel you need.” 
She was barely listening to him anymore, letting his honeyed words wash over her mind, slowly and carefully lowering her into subspace.
For an undetermined amount of time there was silence, “And I think you dropped after this last op.” 
Well she was certainly listening now, a cold dread set into her stomach at the reminder of her last op. She jerked away from him, a panicked noise dying in her throat as Adler held her close to him. The hand around her neck tightened, cutting off her air for a few seconds before he released her. She took the reprimand for what it was, tilting her neck to him in deference as she shook. 
He sighed above her. “Truthfully, I never considered that your lack of aftercare would be a problem. Had I remembered, I wouldn’t have pulled you out so quick.” the hand on her shoulder rubbed up and down her arm, like he was trying to soothe a skittish horse.
For some reason, it was working, and the icy-cold wrongness of subdrop began to thaw. 
Under his breath, Adler muttered, “Hudson really reamed me out for that one.” and she was unable to hide her rasping laugh. So that had been what all the yelling was about yesterday. Everyone had heard it, but no one could say for certain what had made Hudson so furious he started screaming. Especially at Adler. 
“You’ve been so good.” It was like he injected serotonin right into her brain, she was so close to subspace, teetering on the edge of floating off the cliff into a peaceful abyss. 
Now beyond words, she settled for a small hum. 
“Let's get you more comfortable,” before she could completely register what he was saying, Adler was tugging her up and out of her seat, leading her over to the leather cuck chair that all hotels, regardless of where they were in the world, had. On the floor was one of the pillows from the bed, and without thinking, she knelt on it, looking back up at Adler for direction. 
He graced her with another one of his rare smiles before sitting down in front of her, and the euphoria of pleasing her dominant nearly knocked her over. 
“Good girl,” the praise went right to her head, and she whined again, swaying as her arms fluttered in front of her, unsure of what to do. 
But she didn’t need to worry, Adler understood, and he placed a hand in her hair, gently tugging her head into his lap. His actions unbalanced her, and she wrapped her arms around his legs as she fell into them. 
“Just like that.” The hand stayed in her hair, petting her, while he continued to smoke leaning back into his chair, watching her with heavily lidded eyes. 
It was too much and not enough, and she could tell that she was so close to subspace, and she didn’t want to disappoint Adler, but she just couldn’t– 
As her thoughts began to spiral, Adler tugged her hair. Not enough to hurt her, just enough to get her to look back up at him. 
“What do you need?” she shuddered, mind blanking as she scrambled for something to tell him. 
“I don’t know sir,” she whispered, voice cracking, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. If he was surprised by the title, he didn’t show it. Instead he examined her closely. 
“Alright,” his hand slowly stroked through her hair again, and she leaned into the touch like a cat. 
“I need you to relax for me, can you do that?” and she nodded against his legs, realizing that she hadn’t truly relaxed yet. She may have submitted, but she was still waiting to be jerked back out of her hazy state. 
Her muscles take a few seconds to respond as she tries to relax them, slowly going boneless. It makes all the difference, and when Adler resumes petting her hair with some more praise, she’s gone. 
Lips parting, her head lolled to the side as she closed her eyes, listening to Adler’s words. But she did not truly hear them, just allowing herself to be tugged deeper and deeper into the ocean of subspace. The scent of whatever brand of cologne and cigarettes Adler used became a warm blanket around her as she just breathed. 
The pain that had been plaguing her slowly receded, and tears pricked at the corners of her closed eyes. 
For an undetermined length of time, they just sat like this, his hand in her hair, her head in his lap, their breath and hearts synced with each other. She could stay like this forever. 
Unfortunately, her body had other plans, and her legs began to cramp. Adler noticed her shifting her weight to try and get comfortable again. 
“Look at me,” and she could feel the command in his voice, impossible for her to disobey with all of her defenses down. 
Staring up at him with wide, wet eyes, she waited for his next command. 
Adler merely hummed, studying her like she was something precious, carefully running his fingers across her cheek. He handled her like she was important, and perhaps that was the best thing of all. 
“You look so beautiful down there,” his thumb brushed along her cheekbone, and again, she leaned into his touch, feeling the way her cheeks heated as she did so. 
“Ready to come up yet?” considering for a second, she shook her head, squinting as she shifted uncomfortably again. 
“Alright then, gonna move this somewhere more comfortable for you then.” 
Before she could even make a sound, Adler was repositioning her. Slowly, he raised her head from his lap, making sure she could sit up on her own. 
He tugged her up and led her to the bed, supporting most of her weight as she struggled to walk. 
She must have made some sort of panicked noise, because Adler stopped, tilting his head down at her. Whatever he saw on her face made him displeased, and he continued to tug her reluctant body towards the bed. Once she was seated on the left side, he took her face in both of his hands, thumbs brushing over her cheeks. The action caused tears to leak out of her eyes, startling her. 
Unable to do anything but stare up at him from where he towered over her, she waited for his next direction, resigned, despite the disgust curdling in her stomach. 
“What’s wrong?” His hands laced into her hair, holding her in place. 
It takes her a few seconds to process his words, simply staring up at him before her mouth moves without her conscious input. “I’m sorry sir,” her voice cracking on the last word. She looked away from his burning eyes, unable to look at him as she whispered, “Don’t want sex.” unable to hide the repulsed shudder that worked its way through her body. 
“Don’t worry,” he slips his hands out of her hair, though he keeps one on her arm at all times as he pulls the covers back, and she follows him with her foggy eyes. “I won’t touch you like that,” and the last of the remaining tension recedes from her body. 
Adler sat next to her, shifting to the middle of the bed, and gestured for her to follow. Once she shuffled close enough, both of his arms gently maneuvered her so that she was chest to chest with him, laying the entirety of her body on top of him. A large hand pressed her face into the crook of his neck, sliding down and under her hair to gently scruff her neck. 
His other hand pulled the covers up and over them enveloping her in the bed’s comfortable weight and warmth. 
 Uncaring as she heard the sound of his lighter spark, and the fresh scent of a new cigarette filled the room. She allowed herself to float back into subspace, her aching arms tucked close to Adler, their legs intertwined. 
Slowly, the world around her sharpened at the edges. The birds chirped in the background, and there was a vague honking in the distance. Adler’s cigarette had long since burned out, though its smell still lingered. Blinking sleepily, she shifted, attempting to pull away from him. 
The hand on the back of her neck tightened, “What’re you doing?” he murmured, and she felt his lips on the back of her head. Miraculously, it no longer hurt, though her cheeks did heat at his actions. 
“Mmm, gotta– gotta go sleep.” she mumbled, not quite all there yet, though her senses had sharpened, her mind was still fuzzy. The hand he held his cigarette in tightened across her back, fingers digging into her waist. Not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough to make itself known. As if she could have forgotten it. 
“Stay.” it wasn’t a request, more of a demand, but she knew that if she truly wanted to leave, he would let her. Perhaps that was why she didn’t feel bothered by the idea of staying, of letting him keep her. Because she knew, if she stayed, it would be permanent. Russell Adler was not a man who liked to share. 
Despite the heavy hand across her neck, she lifted her head to stare imploringly at Adler. “S’okay?”
Scoffing, Adler rolled his eyes, decisively stating, “If I wanted you gone, you would be gone.” staring into his eyes for another second, she nodded, marveling at the lack of nausea it brought her. 
“Kay.” she settled back into him with a sigh. The hand on her neck moved to the back of her head, running through her hair. The gentle rhythm soothing her to sleep.
And if she joined for sleep every night they were both available? 
Well. That was no one else’s business but theirs. 
Banner by @cafekitsune
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elliesbelle · 2 years ago
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why is this so ellie-coded
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idiotspacecowboy · 3 months ago
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so i have a little joke with my friends (who know nothing about muse) where we just whisper “hes everywhere” to any photo of dom howard. it started after i edited a specific photo of dom to look like analog horror and then pasted it multiple times on a slideshow, captioning it “hes everywhere.” and he is literally everywhere now, i set the pic as my wallpaper. idk man it gets me cackling and kicking my feet.
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christinered · 1 year ago
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I miss my Pretty Gritty New York City. I liked her dangerous and dirty. I Love New York!
They call me ~Red
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chironsbug · 5 days ago
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i made this as part of my christmas gift for my brother
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girl4music · 11 months ago
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Another relationship I really love in ‘Wynonna Earp’ is the “Earp sister” relationship between Wynonna and Waverly. It reminds me very much of Elsa and Anna.
I wish there was more storytelling about sisters that have no one but each other in TV art/entertainment. The personal significance of it for me is something I can’t quite explain since I never had a sister. I mean can you really miss something that you never had?
Why do sister relationships affect me so much? Why do I feel so deeply for sister relationship dynamics?
It’s a mystery to me. Perhaps I was meant to have a sister in another life or another Universe… possibly?
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krispyweiss · 7 months ago
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Dom Flemons at Happy Hollow Hootenanny, Snow Fork Event Center, Nelsonville, Ohio, June 1, 2024
Birdsong accompanied the early portions of Dom Flemons’ Happy Hollow Hootenanny headlining appearance and fireflies lighted up the encores.
It was just before 8 p.m. June 1 when Flemons took the small Creekside stage in the woods of Nelsonville, Ohio, to play the instrumental “Old Cindy Gal” on rhythm bones and harmonica, his tapping feet and strategic breathing adding extra percussion. Ninety minutes later, the 125 or so in attendance were solemnly singing “We are Almost Down to the Shore” along with Flemons and his acoustic guitar before the American Songster wrapped his singular gig with an impromptu rag that earned a standing ovation in the forest and elicited a deep bow from the makeshift bandstand.
In between, the Carolina Chocolate Drops co-founder played originals from his most-recent Black Cowboys and Traveling Wildfire LPs, revisited the songbooks of Rev. Gary Davis on “Saddle it Around,” Elizabeth Cotten in an instrumental acoustic guitar medley bookended with “Freight Train” and “Oh, Babe it Ain’t No Lie” and reprised the Drops’ version of “Your Baby Ain’t Sweet Like Mine” on banjo as the audience alternated from respectful silence to explosive appreciation during and between numbers that encompassed traditional country on “Slow Dance with You;” country blues on “Steel Pony Blues,” which also appeared during soundcheck; folk on “Nobody Wrote it Down;” and spiritual music on “My Long Journey Home.”
Dressed in blue pants held up with suspenders, a plaid work shirt and hat, the bespectacled Flemons played five instruments (guitar, banjo, harmonica, bones and quills) across the 18 numbers on his playlist. He was in a jovial mood, explaining songs’ origins, recalling a whitewater-rafting trip with Yo-Yo Ma before the banjo-instrumental “Lost River Blues” and laughing off Wildfire’s recent Grammy loss to Joni Michell, singing: When Joni’s in the category it’s a Grammy that you ain’t got.
A master- as well as multi-instrumentalist, Flemons conjured Lightnin’ Hopkins’ shuffle on “He’s a Lone Ranger;” intuited trains on quills (“Railroad Bill”) and caused his custom-made Songster banjo talk back on “Saddle it Around” and “Tough Luck” as the instrument responded to Flemons’ spoken asides and recreated sounds from outside the narrator’s jail cell. As a guitarist, Flemons is equally adept at the Piedmont, Delta and folk styles and plays the instrument as if he’d dedicated his life exclusively to it.
After sitting for the second half of the show, Flemons stood and pulled a harp from his pocket to close the main set with “There’s a Brown-skinned Girl Down the Road Somewhere.” With Flemons in command, a harmonica becomes a band; he blew and cupped the thing to produce an array of sounds before rapidly turning it 360 degrees again and again without missing a note.
The audience went bonkers at this trick and Flemons couldn’t even get to the backstage tent before an encore - beginning with “My Baby Said Yes Instead of Maybe” to “lift us up” - became inevitable.
West Virginians Jesse Milnes & Emily Miller opened with a delightful 45-minute performance of originals and covers by the likes of Ola Belle Reed, the Stanley Brothers and Skeeter Davis. Handing fiddles and guitars back and forth to each other, the husband-and-wife duo brought the mood down with Davis’ “The Sad Situation” and ratcheted it up with Milnes’ “It’s Hard to Tell the Hippies from the Hicks.”
Miller’s own originals - about her husband and German relations accused of poisoning Kansas water supplies - sounded as old as the covers they played. And when the duo ended their set with “The Fun’s all Over,” it was only just beginning.
Grade card: Dom Flemons at Happy Hollow Hootenanny - 6/1/24 - A
See more photos on Sound Bites’ Facebook page.
6/2/24
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captainaikus · 2 years ago
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For Ushiwaka : You’re a big man, and i have a strong feeling you’re very aggressive in bed, care to explain how much of a monster you could be with a bratty girl?
Wakatoshi : …
(y/n) : I’ll answer this one since he is a man of a few words. His spanks are hard - expected cause of years of being a volleyball player and the fact that he spikes doesn’t help. He has broken the bed three times over the last five weeks… so safe to say, he puts you in your place.
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elliesbelle · 1 year ago
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Do you think Ellie and Abby are doms subs or switches (this might be an unpopular opinion but I feel like Ellie is a dom switch and Abby is sub switch)
it hurts me to say that i think ellie is a neutral switch because in my heart of hearts, i want her to be a dom top (because that’s my personal preference and i’m in love with ellie), but i really think she is a neutral switch.
abby though? not sure. i feel like a fully-realized lesbian abby would be a dom switch, but idk!
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scaryfangirl2001 · 2 months ago
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Welcome Back (We've Been Waiting) (fanfic, 688 WC)
@flufftober
Twenty-five years have passed since the five friends buried the time capsule in the old oak tree's shadow. Life has taken them in different directions, but they've always managed to stay in touch through sporadic postcards, emails, and the occasional phone call.
Marcus Bell, now a seasoned detective, received a cryptic message from Kaya Blanke, the brilliant detective, a few weeks ago. It was a simple "Hey, long time no talk!" followed by a string of emojis. He replied with a brief update about his latest case, and that was it.
But then, suddenly, the messages stopped.
No responses to his emails, no likes on social media, no nothing. It was as if Kaya had vanished into thin air. A similar silence fell over the other three friends. Pacha, the charismatic entrepreneur, hasn't posted anything on his Instagram account in weeks. Dom Toretto, the street-smart racing legend, hasn't responded to any of Leonard Snart's, aka Captain Cold's, attempts to reach out. It's as if a switch has been flipped, severing the connection between the five friends.
Within hours, the five friends drop everything — cases, businesses, heists — and converge on their hometown. They gather at the old oak tree, the spot where they buried the time capsule all those years ago. As they stand before the tree, a mix of emotions swirls inside them. Nostalgia, worry, and a dash of fear.
"What's going on?" Marcus asks aloud, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings.
"I don't know," Kaya replies, her brow furrowed, "but I think it's connected to the time capsule."
Pacha nods. "I've been having these weird dreams... memories, really. About us, about our childhood."
Dom's expression turns grim. "I've been getting these strange visions, too. Like someone's trying to tell me something."
Leonard's gaze narrows. "I think we're being pulled back here for a reason. Something big is happening, and we need to figure out what it is."
Without another word, the five friends begin digging. The earth yields easily, revealing the rusty metal box they buried so many years ago. As they open the lid, a faint hum fills the air. Inside, they find a note, addressed to their younger selves.
"Welcome back," it reads. "We've been waiting."
Dom raises an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. "You guys think this is some kind of sick joke? Someone's messing with us, right?"
Marcus shakes his head. "I've seen some weird stuff in my line of work, Dom. Stuff that can't be explained. I'm not ruling out anything at this point."
Kaya nods in agreement. "I've recently worked with a friend, Elsbeth, on a case that was downright bizarre. We had a guy who mimicked the exact actions of a staged performance from an opera. Down to the smallest detail. It was like he was programmed or something."
Pacha chuckles. "You think that's weird? My friend Kuzco got turned into a llama. Yeah, you heard that right. A llama. I'm talking full-on, furry, spitting llama. And let me tell you, it was not pretty."
Leonard, meanwhile, has quietly removed one of his gloves, revealing his hand. With a flick of his wrist, a shard of ice materializes in front of him, hovering in mid-air. "I think we've all seen our fair share of weird, guys. I've got my own condition, shall we say. One that lets me control ice."
The others stare at the floating ice shard, impressed despite themselves.
Dom whistles softly. "Okay, okay. I get it. We've all got our own brand of crazy. But what does it have to do with this?" He gestures to the time capsule and the note inside.
Marcus's eyes narrow. "I think it's all connected. Whatever is going on, it's bigger than just a prank or a coincidence. We need to dig deeper, figure out what's really going on."
Kaya nods, her mind already racing with possibilities. "Agreed. Let's get to work. We've got a mystery to solve."
As they begin to discuss their next move, the air around them seems to grow heavier, as if the very fabric of reality is watching them, waiting to see what they will do next.
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motorbikewomen · 5 months ago
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I was oblivious to this the entire time too
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eupheme · 5 months ago
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— 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)
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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thank you so much for reading! it means so much and I am so happy to be dipping my toes into these pairings💖
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n2qfd · 1 year ago
Video
Jan 10, 2016
youtube
This is a remarkable and amazing tribute, made even better by the fact that the carillon is operated by human hands (the Utrecht Klokkenluiders Gilde) instead of the modern habit of computer programmed bells. Bravo. 
From the Huffington Post:
David Bowie’s death has rightfully sparked a multitude of tributes, but this could be the most spine-tingling of them all.
Bells at a 634-year-old church tower in the Netherlands rang out the tune of his 1969 classic “Space Oddity” on Monday.
Marchal Molenaar filmed the wonderful rendition emanating from the Dom Tower in Utrecht and posted it to Facebook, where it’s going viral.
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domjaehyun · 2 months ago
Text
under the influence (l.dh)
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PAIRING ▸ stoner!haechan x fem!reader WORD COUNT ▸ 11.6k WARNINGS ▸ a hint of dubcon (she’s timid but very much likes the attention), pervy!dom!haechan, shy!sub!reader, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, finger sucking, oral (giving & receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play (receiving), marking, some cum eating, spit play, groping in public, panty stealing & sniffing PLAYLIST ▸ FYS - john concepcion, sweet release - kevin ross NOTES ▸ hii i hope you enjoy! any and all positive feedback is greatly appreciated, so send me an ask if you liked it or let me know in the tags pretty please :) 
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As you press the button to call the elevator, you start to get the jitters. They start in your fingertips and travel up your arms to the back of your neck, making the fine hairs there stand on end, and you shudder slightly, shaking your head in an attempt to do away with the sensation.
The doors open with a ding, and you jump at the sound, making Yeri look over at you in alarm.
“Are you okay?” she asks, worries, and you nod, albeit a bit too quickly and vigorously to be convincing. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you say with a frown, and she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “Nothing!” you insist.
“You’re a horrible liar,” Karina reminds you, and your frown deepens. “But if you say so, I guess.” 
Relieved, you follow Yeri and Karina into the elevator and lean into the back corner of the shaft, resting your back against where the two walls meet. 
“We should watch a movie today,” Karina suggests excitedly, and she and Yeri fall into a discussion that you would join if you weren’t busy thinking about Haechan and whatever stunts he’s going to pull today. 
It takes three calls of your name from Karina and a vigorous shake from Yeri to snap you out of it, and you look at them sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. 
“Girl, where do you keep going? Every time I look over at you, you’re in la-la land.” Yeri asks, concerned and amused.
“Sorry, I was just… thinking.” you mumble.
“We know that,” Yeri says with a chuckle and roll of her eyes. “Thinking about what, hm?” she presses, and you balk.
“She’s probably thinking about Haechan and what stunts he’s gonna pull today.” Karina supposes, and you frown, upset you’ve been caught.
In your defense, Haechan is always up to shenanigans when you’re around; he pulls at your skirt to fluster you, plays with your hair to get your attention, strokes under your chin just to watch your eyes glaze over—you name it, he’s either done it or is probably thinking about it.
You can’t honestly say his advances are unwelcome because, well, you’ve had a crush on him for the past six months. But something about him is so intense, so jarringly locked in, that it makes you hesitate, and being the object of his full and undivided attention never fails to make you the shyest version of yourself, and you manage to make a fool of yourself almost every single time you get around him, and you have no idea how you’re going to deal with his antics today. 
“Girl.” Karina’s voice cuts through the fog in your brain and you blink hard, focusing on your friend’s concerned expression. “You’re doing it again.”
“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter, rubbing your arm awkwardly. “I’m here, for real.”
As the bell dings and the doors open, the three of you file out of the elevator, walking towards the end of the hall to your destination.
“If you need help with him, let us know. We can make up a code word!” Karina suggests helpfully, and you smile, endeared by your friend’s attempt to calm your nerves.
“What should it be?” you wonder, and she screws her face up thoughtfully.
“Blinker.” Yeri answers, and you both turn to look at her. “It should be blinker. Like, if he’s getting too close and you can’t handle it, you can just say you kinda wanna try hitting a blinker or something like that.”
“The last time I hit a blinker, I coughed for ten minutes straight and it was the most painful experience of my life.” Karina recalls, grimacing at the memory. “It’s perfect.”
“Great.” Yeri says, smiling reassuringly at you before the three of you stop in front of the apartment door. Without a second thought, Yeri knocks three times on the door, stepping back to where you two are standing and waits with you for someone to open the door.
It opens a moment later to reveal Haechan standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and the other holding the door, and you wonder how such a simple stance has you short of breath.
He looks at Karina and Yeri, smiling pleasantly, before he locks eyes with you. Slowly wetting his lips, his eyes slowly drag up and down your frame, taking in your outfit and appearance before he meets your gaze once more and drops one eyelid into a flirtatious wink.
“Come on in,” he invites, stepping back to let Karina and Yeri in. When it’s your turn to pass, he moves closer, deliberately blocking part of your way so you have to brush by him to enter, and you’re sure it’s also no coincidence that he’s positioned himself so your chest has to brush against his. You swallow your nerves and continue walking past him, not daring to look back in case he’s looking at you; which, if today is anything like every other day you all hang out, he most certainly is. 
Shutting the door behind you, Haechan follows after the three of you into the living room, but waits, standing, by the chair where Mark sits—for what, you don’t know. You wave hello to Mark in his favorite armchair and Jeno on one end of the couch, who greet you pleasantly and resume their tasks of packing the bong and rolling a joint, respectively. Mildly confused but saying nothing at Haechan’s behavior, you take a seat at the other end of the couch, only for Haechan to move at last, crossing the living room to sit directly next to you.
Your throat dries up at the prospect of being so close to him, and you inhale shakily, wanting desperately to roll your eyes back in your head when you catch a whiff of his intoxicating cologne.
Haechan doesn’t say anything for a moment, just rests one elbow on his knee and observes you with his cheek in his palm. His expression is nothing short of desiring as he takes in your appearance, your burgundy pleated skirt and short-sleeved cream blouse apparently quite the fascinating little number to him, causing you to shift awkwardly in your seat and self-consciously tug your skirt down a bit.
“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’m staring at you because you look good,” Haechan compliments, eyeing you appreciatively. “You always look good, though, but today… damn.”
You blink at him, stunned by the flirtatious lilt to his voice, and mumble, “Oh.”
“Oh?” he mimics you, chuckling, and you furrow your brows, frowning at his teasing. His brows lift up as his face brightens with amusement, and he shakes his head slowly with a smile.
“Thank you.” you say softly, and he nods, smile widening. 
“You’re so cute.” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but at him, but he recaptures your attention when he snickers quietly and you meet his gaze to see he’s no longer looking at your eyes, but your lips, and there’s a distinct longing in his stare that unnerves you and, if you’re honest, piques your curiosity. “Did you make it here okay?”
“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, eyes shifting back and forth from his eyes to your lap before you give into temptation and look at his lips, regretting it instantly when they quirk up into a smirk as he catches you looking. “The bus was basically empty, and it had heating today.”
“Mm, that’s good to hear,” he muses, running his fingers through his hair, and you attempt to hide the way you swallow thickly at the attractive sight. “We don’t want anyone pressing up against such a pretty girl and trying anything sleazy, right?”
“Um…” you trail off, managing to restrain the reply on the tip of your tongue that Haechan is probably the most likely candidate to press up against you and try something sleazy.
“...Right.” he finishes for you, and you nibble your bottom lip.
“...Right.” you echo, and he grins. 
“So… Do you wanna smoke?” he asks.
“I do,” you confirm shyly, and he smiles slightly, no doubt amused by your nervousness.
“Good girl. Did you wanna hit my pen? It’s pretty strong.” he offers, and you won’t lie—your brain blanks for a minute at the praise, but you’re pretty sure you manage to recover just in time for Haechan not to notice anything.  
“Okay,” you reply hesitantly, and he grins.
“Great—give me one second to get something.” he says before standing up and heading to the back of the apartment to his room. You wait fairly patiently, fingers lightly drumming on your knee as you wait for him to return.
“What’s up?” Mark asks curiously.
“Haechan’s getting something from his room.” you explain, and Mark nods slowly, lips pursed thoughtfully.
Haechan returns from the back of the apartment after a moment with a new cartridge in his hand. You watch with mild fascination as he deftly switches the cartridges in his pen, taking a test pull and holding it in for so much time, you’d swear he’s trying to show off.
When he looks over at you and winks before blowing it out, your suspicions are confirmed. 
“This strain is special,” Haechan murmurs to you, and his eyes drop to your lips as he continues, “it’s a ‘horny’ strain.”
“A horny strain?” you mumble, confused, and he nods with a grin.
“It heightens libido.” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Want some?”
“That’s not real,” Mark calls out from across the living room, and you crane your head to see him. “There’s no actual science to back that up.”
Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No one signed up for your TEDTalk on weed; save it.”
Mark grumbles something about misinformation being the death of society but remains otherwise silent.
Haechan calls your attention back to him with a simple clearing of the throat, and you look back at him to see his gaze heavy-lidded and sultry as he regards you, and you start to wonder if Mark might actually be the misinformed one.
“Want some?” he repeats his question from earlier, and you hesitate, making him roll his eyes and chuckle. “It’s not gonna bite you.” As you shift closer to take the pen from him, he holds it out of your reach with a glint in his eye. “I might, though,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly.
He scans your frame, eyes lingering on your almost outstretched hand, and takes a slow, deep pull from the pen, not holding it in for nearly as long before he’s leaning towards you suddenly, making you yelp and draw back.
“Relax,” he mumbles, some of the smoke slipping from his mouth. He cups your chin in his hand and tugs gently to get you to open your mouth before leaning closer, so close that you fear your lips might touch, leading you to attempt to pull back; however, Haechan’s grip on your chin tightens, a clear sign to stay where you are, and he blows the smoke into your mouth slowly. You’re deeply flustered at first, but your instincts kick in as you inhale the secondhand smoke, holding it in your lungs for a couple of seconds before blowing it back out.
When you’re done exhaling, you expect to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on you hasn’t loosened, the male now studying your lips with an intensity in his gaze that gives you a twinge of anxiety and something else you don’t have it in you to identify. 
“You ever shotgunned before?” he asks softly, and you shake your head as much as his hold on you will allow. “You did a good job.”
“Thanks,” you mumble meekly. “Can you let me go now?”
He rolls his eyes slowly, lips quirking into a cocky grin as he does just that, releasing your chin and sitting back. “If you say so.”
“Thanks,” you mutter quietly, and he flicks his brows upwards in acknowledgement, gaze scanning you before lingering for a moment by the side of your face. “What is it?”
“You have something in your hair,” he says, gesturing to near your ear. When you fail to retrieve the foreign object, he tsks in dissatisfaction before leaning over and gently removing a single white feather from your hair. “Probably from the pillows.” he explains, the backs of his fingers gently grazing your ear as he pulls back. When you squirm away from his touch slightly, the contact too sensitive and ticklish, Haechan chuckles softly. “Look how nervous I make you.” His fingers return to your ear, gently stroking the shell of your ear, and your face blazes with embarrassment and something else as he hums softly. “Even your ear is hot. Do I make you hot anywhere else?” He drops his hand, fingers lightly skimming your upper thigh, and you just about jump out of your skin, cursing internally when you see the delight in his expression.
“Thanks for getting the feather out of my hair,” you say in a desperate attempt to navigate the conversation elsewhere, but it seems Haechan isn’t quite set on letting you off that easily.
“Oh, come on,” he presses, sitting closer to you and leaning so close you can smell his (delicious) cologne. “Don’t tell me your heart isn’t racing right now.”
It is, you think grimly. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.
“Haechan, leave the poor girl alone,” Karina calls from the other end of the couch, and the momentary waver in Haechan’s attention on you as his eyes dart elsewhere is all you need to scoot further back and smooth your skirt out with a vigorous clearing of your throat.
When Haechan looks back over at you, you’ve thankfully managed to regain a semblance of your composure, your gaze politely but pointedly focused at your hands in your lap.
“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.
He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.
“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him. 
“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”
You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.
you [18:11pm] SOS
you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?
You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves. 
Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over. 
Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.
yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁
karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass??
yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there
yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.
Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.
“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?” 
“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking. 
“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”
“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin. 
“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.” 
“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”
“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound. 
“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.
“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”
“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.
“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”
You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”
He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.
“Hey, Yeri?” you call, and her attention is on you instantly. “Remember when, um, you hit that blinker earlier? How’s your throat feeling?”
Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly in understanding and she rubs her throat gingerly, frowning deeply. “It’s still sore. Wanna come get some water with me?”
“Yes,” you accept the offer gratefully and practically spring up from the couch, following after Yeri and ignoring, to the best of your ability, Haechan’s little snicker from behind you.
“You wanna switch seats?” Yeri asks in a low, concerned voice as you two enter the kitchen, and she laughs when you hesitate.
“I mean, I like it, I just… need a quick break.” you mumble, and she nods, pouring herself a glass of water. “Could you guys, um, hear him earlier?”
“No… why?” she scrutinizes you, and you blink, flustered. 
“He saw the group chat texts.” you mutter, and her eyes widen in alarm, setting her glass down a bit too harshly, the loud clink resonating throughout the room.
“I’m gonna kill Yurin.” she hisses.
“Not if I get there first.” you huff, and she snickers. Footsteps sound out from the living room, making their way to the kitchen, and Yeri pauses. “It’s not Haechan,” you assure her. “I think it’s Karina.”
Sure enough, Karina enters the kitchen, and Yeri looks at you in surprise. “How’d you know?”
“I recognize the footsteps.” you explain with a shrug. “Plus, the guys are wearing house slippers and we’re in, like, socks, so it makes a different sound.”
“Okay, little miss super spy.” Yeri teases with a laugh, and you giggle, pushing her playfully. “Have you recovered, you think?”
“Yeah,” you confirm, smiling. “I’m ready to go back out there.”
“What’d I miss?” Karina whines, and Yeri looks at you expectantly.
“Haechan saw the texts about me… at night… that Yurin sent.” you explain carefully, and Karina lets out a loud gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth.
“I’m killing her.” she groans, and you and Yeri chuckle.
“Get in line, girl.” Yeri says, and Karina snorts in amusement.
“You’re gonna be okay if we go back out there, right?” Karina asks worriedly, and you’re briefly overcome with appreciation for your friends.
“I’ll be okay, I’m pretty sure. I’ll just say blinker again if anything goes wrong.” you confirm, nodding resolutely, and the crease between Karina’s brows fades away as she relaxes.
You three make your way back to the living room, fully preparing to sit back down, but thankfully, before Haechan can torment you further, Jeno inadvertently saves your life and whatever’s left of your dignity by standing up from the couch abruptly and clapping his hands together. “I’m hungry. Diner?”
“I would kill for waffles,” Karina agrees, and Mark and Haechan also stand and start to grab their belongings as you all make your way to the door and slip your shoes on. 
As you shuffle between Yeri and Karina for protection and wait as the elevator descends to the indoor garage of the apartment complex, a tickle starts to build in your throat, making you clear it quietly, then more insistently when the sensation persists. 
“You okay?” Haechan asks, hand poised over your back to pat it in assistance, and you nod.
“My throat is just… a little dry,” you mumble, and Haechan nods in understanding, reaching into his jacket and handing you a Blow Pop. “Thanks,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised as you unwrap the lollipop and stick it into your mouth. By the time the doors open on the garage floor, the flavored saliva produced by the sweet treat sitting in your cheek has almost entirely soothed your throat, and you’re feeling significantly better. 
The six of you make your way to where Jeno’s and Haechan’s cars are parked beside each other and stand behind the two cars, silently deliberating amongst yourselves.
“Well, I call shotgun.” Mark calls out, and Jeno unlocks his car, Mark sliding into the passenger seat.
“There’s no way all six of us are gonna cram into Jeno’s car,” Yeri remarks incredulously. 
“Yeah, definitely not, because my middle backseat’s seat belt isn’t working and the airbag sensors are fucked up, so it’s a seat belt or nothing in my car.” Jeno laments, and your skin starts to crawl as you realize where this might be heading. 
“So your car only seats four… and there are six of us…” you say slowly, pulling the lollipop from your lips with a muted wet pop that has Haechan eyeing you like a lion about to corner the slowest gazelle of the herd. Usually, there are seven of you, so even if you had to ride with Haechan, there’d be a third body present in the form of the lovably boisterous Yurin.
Curse Yurin’s midterms, and curse Yurin for sending that text, and curse yourself for leaving your phone where Haechan could see, and curse Haechan for being nosy—
“I’ll ride with Haechan,” Karina offers, noticing the way you become more and more quiet as you sink further into your worries. 
“No, you won’t.” Haechan says, leaning against his passenger door. Everyone looks over at him, and he just pushes off of the door, opening it and pointing directly at you. “Get in.”
“Oh, gosh.” you mumble, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed effect making you feel sluggish or you’re really that apprehensive, but you feel a bit like a puppet with sandbags for shoes, your feet hesitantly shuffling, dragging, scuffling towards Haechan’s passenger door.
“It’s an eight-minute drive,” Yeri calls to you sympathetically, and you nod, shooting her a feeble thumbs up that you don’t even believe. “We’ll see you soon!” 
“Yeah,” you croak, feeling very much like a lamb being led to slaughter, and Haechan smiles sweetly at you, baring all his teeth as you sit in his car. He closes the passenger door and crosses over to the driver’s side, opening the door and getting in. 
When Haechan finishes settling down into the driver’s seat, checking his mirror views and pulling up the GPS to the diner, he straps himself in and looks over at you, eyes scanning your frame for something—you don’t quite know what. Seemingly done with his inspection, he leans closer to you without warning and reaches for the seat belt buckle in your chair, pulling it out and over your body as he clicks it into place. The whole while, he’s invading your personal space, your breath catching in your throat as you realize his face is close enough to yours that you could probably count his lashes if you wanted to.
He turns his head ever so slightly, eyes locking on yours, and you blink rapidly in alarm, rendered immobile as he studies your face.
“You look so cute, all innocent and helpless like this.” he murmurs softly, and the tiniest of squeaks escapes you, his eyes flashing with glee at the sound. “Now stop looking at me like that,” he warns, “or I’ll kiss you.”
You blanch, trying immediately to make any other expression than the one you didn’t even know you were sporting, and he chuckles before sitting back in his seat and starting his car. He turns the air conditioning on—a strange choice, considering it’s a bit nippy outside—and pulls out of his spot, starting to drive towards the diner.
It doesn’t take long for you to get cold, goosebumps gradually appearing on your arms and legs, but you’re a bit too nervous to say anything, instead suffering in silence. You clasp your hands together in your lap, rubbing them together for warmth, and, as he stops at a red light, Haechan looks over at you, watching in fascination as you shift in your seat for any sort of friction that could warm you. After a moment, you notice his eyes fixated pointedly on your chest, and you spare a glance down to see, to your alarm, that your nipples are hard, starting to poke through your clothing, and you curse internally for wearing a thin, lacy bra that does nothing to conceal your stiffened buds.
He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, smirking in what seems like satisfaction, before refocusing his attention on the road. You cross your arms over your chest protectively, tucking your fingers into the crooks of your elbows as he drives down the road.
“We’re here,” he announces after some time, pulling into a parking spot in front of the diner and turning the car off. The cold air blowing through the vents shuts off, much to your relief, and you unbuckle your seat belt before he gets the chance, practically flinging yourself out of the car into the significantly less cold night air.
As you all file into the diner, you notice a man staring very pointedly at you and your bare legs and your chest, where your nipples have yet to go down. 
Haechan scans the room, catches sight of the man, and follows his gaze back to where you stand, his jaw clenching.
“Put this on,” Haechan murmurs, shrugging off his jacket and offering it to you. You start to take it, eager for warmth, but pause, looking at him suspiciously.
“Why?”
His gaze flicks over your shoulder at where the man from earlier sits, and understanding dawns on you. “Just—put it on for me?” 
You nod, gratefully accepting the jacket, and Haechan steps closer, draping it over your shoulders and helping you put your arms through the sleeves. 
“Thank you,” you say quietly, and he nods.
“You look cute in my jacket.” he remarks with a small smirk, and your cheeks warm.
“Thank you,” you mumble, and he trails his tongue along his bottom lip before gesturing for you to follow after him with a jerk of his head, a quick peek past him revealing the hostess who’s arrived to take you all to your seats.
When you arrive at the booth, Haechan’s right by you, gesturing for you to go in first. You do so without complaint, preferring the inner seat anyway, but it’s when Haechan slides in next to you that you realize your mistake as he closes you into the booth corner, the main obstacle between you and freedom from, well, him.
As the hostess passes out menus and you all start to look them over, you feel the side of his hand resting against the side of your thigh, making you attempt to shift away from his hand, the touch too intimate for you to handle at the moment.
Somehow, his hand finds its way back against your leg, palm turned up slightly as he lightly grazes his fingertips along your thigh, and you suck in a sharp breath, doing your best to pass it off as a cough when Haechan looks over at you, eyes twinkling with amusement.
“I think I’m gonna get the breakfast platter,” Yeri says excitedly. “It comes with pancakes, eggs prepared how you want them, homefries, and your choice of meat.” 
“That sounds so good,” you reply thoughtfully. “I think I want a burger.” 
“Yeah, a burger sounds good,” Haechan agrees, eyes slowly sliding over to study your reaction as he flattens his palm against your leg, slowly sliding it up to caress your upper thigh. Your reaction must be nothing short of rewarding, as you jolt so forcefully that you shake the table slightly, and he chuckles softly.
“You okay, girl?” Karina asks, worried, and you nod, swallowing thickly.
“I just, um…felt a tickle on my ankle. Thought it was a bug or something.” you mumble, and she nods, eyebrows still furrowed in concern.
“I know I said waffles earlier, but I kind of want these barbecue ribs,” Karina says, pointing at an entry on the menu, but you can barely make your gaze focus on where her finger touches the menu because Haechan’s hand is still very much on your thigh, and to make matters worse, you think you like it.
His hand slides up higher, the side of his thumb slipping under the hem of your skirt, and you raise your glass to your lips in an attempt to act natural, hoping and praying no one notices the way your hand is shaking slightly.
Haechan leans in closer to you, murmuring in your ear, “This must be a dream come true for you, huh?” He grips your thigh firmly, not even attempting to play it off as a casual touch anymore, and you barely manage to stifle your yelp of surprise in time. “Must have been wanting this for so long,” he breathes secretively, smiling lips grazing the shell of your ear so subtly, no one else would notice unless they were paying unnaturally close attention.
You, however, do notice. Not only do you notice, but you suck in a sharp breath of surprise, the sudden movement making the water in your cup slosh forward and spill out slightly, a few droplets dripping down your chin.
You suck your teeth in mild irritation, glaring at Haechan as you reach for your napkin, but he’s faster, his free hand coming up and wiping the liquid off of your chin.  
“Um, thanks.” you mumble, and he nods, locking eyes with you as he licks at the pad of his thumb, cleaning off the water droplets with his mouth. “Oh, dear Neptune.” you whisper to yourself, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the moment. “Where is this waitress—I need to eat something.”
“Yeah, we should let her know we’re ready to order,” Mark says, waving a hand out to flag down the waitress. As she approaches, you sneak a peek at Haechan, whose expression is surprisingly calm and neutral given the sensual, slow circles he’s drawing on your upper thigh with his thumb.
Haechan’s hand slips further in between your legs, getting dangerously close to your core, and you decide that’s enough play time for him, clamping your legs together forcefully.
“You trapped my hand, pretty girl,” he points out with a growing grin, and you ignore him even as he continues, “I didn’t know you liked it that much.”
You still don’t give him a response, staring stubbornly out the booth window, and he chuckles before withdrawing his hand from your legs with such ease that you wonder if he was ever really stuck there.
“Oh, we’re doing the silent treatment? Copy that.” he muses, nodding slowly in understanding, and you can’t help but wonder what else he has in store for you.
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Today, the energy in the room is entirely different—and you don’t like it one bit.
Haechan won’t even acknowledge you today; his eyes skip over you when he scans the room like you’re not even there, or, worse, he seems to be looking completely through you at times, completely unaffected by your presence.
“Girl, did you piss Haechan off or something?” Yeri whispers to you, and your brows knit together as you shake your head. “He hasn’t made a single move on you all day.”
“I know,” you mutter bitterly.
“Maybe he’s sick,” Karina supplies in an attempt to help, but her words practically fall on deaf ears as you stare burning holes into the side of his face as he laughs at something Mark said.
“I’m about to be sick,” you mumble, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as your somewhat secret crush that used to be obsessed with you treats you like you’re nothing more than a couch cushion.
You don’t know what’s come over you, but when Haechan gets up and heads towards the kitchen. you find yourself standing to follow, mumbling that you’ll be right back to Karina.
Haechan stands with his back to you at the kitchen island, pouring a can of something—it looks like Monster—into a glass, and you take a moment to admire his slender yet lean build, the curve of his shoulders and the perfectly mussed up state of his hair—
“I know you’re there, you know.” he says calmly, and your eyes widen as you immediately attempt to look busy doing anything other than blatantly ogling him. He turns right when you’ve reached for a bag of Ruffles chips and raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You have something you want to say?”
“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly thrown off-guard, and he blinks at you impassively.
“I noticed you staring at me,” is all he says in response, and you blanch, pursing your lips carefully.
“Haechan, are you mad at me?” you ask softly, and he smirks.
“And why do you ask that?”
You fidget with the hem of your skirt nervously, averting your gaze to look at the granite countertop. “Well, you… haven’t talked to me all night.”
Haechan doesn’t say anything for a concerningly long time, prompting you to look up at him and immediately wish you hadn’t. He looks beyond smug, and painfully attractive as he leans in slightly, not close enough to get in your space but close enough to send a thrill down your spine. 
“You were giving me the silent treatment the other day, right?” he reminds you, and you hesitate, realizing you were the cause for his radio silence. “I was just returning the favor.”
“Well, don’t.” you say with a frown, and he raises his eyebrows, amused and surprised.
“Why not? Did you miss me or something?” he teases, and you balk, losing all your nerve as quickly as you’d found it.
“No!” you answer quickly, and he arches an eyebrow skeptically, prompting you to continue, “No, I just—”
“You and I don’t really talk much, anyway,” Haechan muses, leaning his back against the island as he regards you with a cocky glint in his eyes. “So what is it you really miss, hm?”
“Well—” you struggle to find your words, and something softens in Haechan’s gaze, the cocky twinkle now accompanied with a smile bordering dangerously on fondness.
“You miss me messing with you, don’t you?” he asks, and at your lack of response, nods in confirmation. “You miss me touching you?” he questions, dragging out the syllables excruciatingly slowly. He sucks his teeth when you still don’t reply and says, “I know you do. You know you do. Now just admit it.”
“I can’t,” you protest weakly, and he shrugs, raising his hands in surrender.
“You want me to touch you again? Give me what I want.” He sounds dead serious and painfully unwavering on his stance, prompting you to whimper quietly to yourself, too wrapped up in your own nerves to notice the way his eyes darken at the sound of your desperation.
“I want you to touch me.” you mumble shamefully, and his lips quirk up into the beginnings of a smile. 
“Come here; say it again.” he urges, beckoning you closer, and you hesitate, making a challenge flash in his expression before he’s poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek and chuckling. “Don’t make me come over there.”
“I want you,” you say, “to touch me,” you repeat your words from earlier, trying desperately to look anywhere but at him.
You can see him crossing the distance between you in your peripheral vision, your insides tensing with anticipation as he gets closer and closer. To your utter disappointment, he continues to walk as if he’s going to pass you, only pausing to tilt his head to the side in a patronizing display of faux sympathy.
“Good girl. Now, was that so hard?” he chuckles, not even giving you a chance to respond before he continues his path out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
What in the absolute hell did you just get yourself into?
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You’re coming back from the bathroom when you quite literally almost run into Haechan in the hallway. 
“Sorry,” you say, stepping to the side to get past, but he steps to the same side. You laugh awkwardly before stepping to the other side, only for him to do the same, his movements far too calculated to be a mistake, and you come to the realization that he’s intentionally blocking your path. “Haechan?” you ask quietly, nervousness creeping into your voice, and he chuckles.
He takes a step towards you, prompting you to take a cautious one backwards, and his smile widens as he advances on you, slowly but surely herding you back towards the bathroom. When your back hits the nearby wall, your eyes widen, and he mocks you, briefly widening his eyes in faux surprise before flicking his brows up suggestively and placing one hand on the wall by your head on the side you could escape from, successfully trapping you in a makeshift corner. 
“You’re so cute, really.” Haechan sighs, smiling fondly at you, but there’s a devious twinkle in his eye as he regards you.
As he closes in on you, your body is alight with nerves and anticipation, and you decide to try again, feebly calling, “...Haechan?”
“Shh, shh, shh,” he quiets you soothingly, reaching up with his free hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, baby.” As if to prove his point, he presses his knee between your legs, thigh pressing up against your clothed core, and a poorly restrained moan bubbles up in your throat.
“Haechan—” you whine, and he shoots you a smug smile.
“See, baby? I know you want it. You know I want it. That’s why you always wear these tiny fucking skirts whenever you come over,” he states, hand dropping from your face to tug at the hem of your skirt, and you gasp—both at the sudden yanking and the insistent pressing of his thigh against your core. “You like it when I do this. Bet you were waiting for me to slip my hands under your skirt to touch you.”
“Mm-mm,” you protest, but the way your hips move against him, rolling back and forth and grinding wantonly in search of relief, is telling another story, Haechan arching a brow skeptically. 
“Mm, no? You don’t like it? But, wait… what was that you said in the kitchen earlier?” he questions, a taunting lilt to his words. “‘I want you to touch me,’” he echoes your earlier request in a poor imitation of your voice. “Well, I’m touching you, baby—don’t you like it?” When your only reply is a small nod, he shakes his head disapprovingly, gaze darkening. “Words.”
“Yes,” you whimper, breath catching in your throat when he rewards you with a firm upwards press of his thigh into your core. Your movements speed up slightly as you feel that familiar tightening sensation in your abdomen, your climax not far ahead.
“Are you gonna cum just like this?” he asks, and there’s a hint of amusement to his words but it’s almost entirely overtaken by the heavy desire in his voice. 
“Mm-hm,” you whine softly, your desperation peaking as your high gets closer and closer. 
“Beg me to let you cum.” he urges, and you’re already so far gone that your shame is all but done away with.
“Please, Haechan, can I cum?” you pant urgently, a slight pleading quality to your words as you feel the beginnings of your climax, pleasure blooming between your legs in a gush of warmth. “Please?” you whimper, and something in him snaps, Haechan lurching forward and cupping your face in his hands to hold you in place as he kisses you deeply, his tongue tracing along your lower lip as you tremble and moan weakly into his mouth. 
When you move to pull away to breathe, he clutches your face more firmly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and exploring at his leisure, all the while ignoring your muffled, plaintive cries for air. 
“Haechan, I can’t breathe,” you rasp out finally, and he lets you go with a shaky inhale and an unmistakable reluctance. 
“You are so goddamn addicting.” he pants, and his hands drop to your hips, resuming the motions you weren’t aware you’d stopped. “Keep going.”
His hands keep guiding your movements, practically dragging you back and forth on his thigh as he kisses you again. This kiss is messier than the last as he sucks on your tongue and pulls back to trail his lips down your neck, stopping just above your pulse point and sucking hard, a gasp escaping you at the pleasurable sensation.
“Mine,” he grunts against your throat, sinking his teeth into a new patch of skin and sucking there, too, without a doubt leaving some form of mark behind. “All fucking mine.” he repeats, clutching your hips tighter and dragging you up his leg and closer to him, lips parting from your neck with a loud, wet pop and connecting with yours eagerly. “Gonna fucking ruin you, princess.”
“Hae—” you barely get the first syllable of his name out before he’s sealing his mouth over yours again, fingers creeping into the kiss to pry your mouth open.
“Open,” he mutters, brows furrowed in concentration. When you oblige, he taps your tongue impatiently until you let it hang out of your mouth, Haechan sucking in a deep breath as he eyes you appreciatively. Without any warning or preamble, Haechan spits directly onto your tongue, and you whimper, voice cracking slightly. “Swallow. I’m gonna do it again.” You swallow his saliva, the extra moisture in your mouth jarring but not unwelcome, and return to your previous pose of your mouth open with your tongue hanging out. 
He grins and leans in again, hovering over your waiting tongue as he drops a long, clear string of saliva from his puckered lips down to your mouth. “Don’t swallow.” He pulls back from you slightly and pushes his middle and ring finger into your mouth, the cool silver of his ring catching your taste buds as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, gliding them against your tongue to collect as much wetness as he can. “Good girl,” he coos, pleased, and you’re embarrassed by the rush of warmth between your legs that appears at the praise. “Need them nice and wet for you.”
Not wasting a minute, he snakes his slick, spit-covered fingers past the band of your underwear and starts to stroke over your folds, digits gliding amongst your arousal with embarrassing ease. 
“You’re a mess down here,” he remarks, eyes alight with glee and something wild, primal as he teases you. “You like me that much? Hm?” He seems not to need an answer as he grins cockily at you, eyes scanning your face intently to drink in your every reaction to his touch, no matter how small. He trails his fingers up, up, up until he’s brushing the underside of your clit, and you jolt, flinching away. 
“Haechan, that’s sensitive—”
“I know, baby,” he coos. “That’s exactly why I’m doing it.” With the hand not currently in your underwear, he laces his fingers with yours, the back of his hand pressed against the palm of your own, and trails your linked hands down your body to join his other hand in your underwear. “Show me,” he rasps, and you blink at him, too far gone to fully understand exactly what he means. “Show me how you do it when you’re alone—when you think of me.”
Cheeks blazing, you realize you’re in no position to refuse, so you guide his hand into massaging your clit in circles, your abdomen tensing reflexively whenever his fingers graze the sensitive underside of your clit. 
“Talk to me, baby.” he urges gently, and you whine in protest, the fire in your face increasing nearly tenfold. “Wanna hear that pretty voice tell me how you touch your little pussy.”
“I just rub it in circles like this,” you mumble, voice slightly husky with desire, and the shift doesn’t go unnoticed, if the intensifying of Haechan’s gaze means anything. 
“You don’t go inside?” he asks softly, and you shake your head.
“Doesn’t feel good when I do it,” you whimper, and he sucks in air sharply, swearing under his breath as he watches your face twist in pleasure. It’s all too much for you, having his undivided attention on you like this, and you look away, a shudder traveling through your body as another climax approaches.
“Look at me,” he coaxes, and you reluctantly oblige, pleading eyes locking on his as your peak gets closer by the second. “Only look at me.”
“Okay,” you agree, the last syllable coming out like more of a squeak, and he smiles brilliantly, the hand not pleasuring you slipping out of your underwear and lifting your shirt up to reveal your breasts in your thin, lacy light blue bra. Leaning down, he wraps his lips around one of your nipples through the fabric and starts to suck, tongue swirling around the stiffening bud so wetly that his saliva starts to darken the fabric, the warmth of his spit seeping through the fabric. 
He sucks at your nipples with an almost ferocity, alternating breasts like he can’t get enough of either, and his hand snakes around your back to unclasp your bra, Haechan pushing the garment out of the way as soon as it’s loose and latching onto your nipple with a low groan of satisfaction.
As he flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue, his fingers stroke you closer and closer to your high until you’re so close you can practically taste the sweet, heady feeling of ecstasy. “Show me what you sound like when you cum, baby.”
“Oh—shit—oh, my God,” you hiss as your eyes screw shut tight, pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm travels through your system. “Feels so good,” you whimper, and he hums in agreement.
“Say my name, baby.”
“Haechan—” you moan wantonly, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth.
He doesn’t stop attending to your breasts until he’s certain he’s milked every last second of bliss from your body, alternating between sucking and flicking and swirling his tongue around the buds until you go limp, your body slumping against the wall for support. 
Finally, he pulls his arousal-coated fingers from your underwear, trailing them over your bottom lip before pushing the digits into your mouth to suck. 
You do so with an embarrassing amount of eagerness, and are just as surprised as Haechan when he pulls his fingers from your mouth and you whine in protest.
His brows shoot up into his hairline and you feel heat blazing furiously in your cheeks as he regards you with a mix of surprise and an expression that looks close to impressed.
“You like to suck, yeah?” he murmurs, and you nod hesitantly. Something flashes in his dark eyes, and he grins. “Wanna suck something bigger?”
Hesitant but undoubtedly excited, you nod, and he wets his lips before setting about unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans. 
As he does, you slowly sink to your knees, and when he looks up from his pants to see you kneeling before him, he lets out a loud swear that you fear might blow your cover.
As you stare in awe at his impressive size, you realize you’re less worried about getting caught than you are about having to stop. He watches you watch him with amusement and fascination, but the undercurrent of desire runs strong as he clicks his tongue to get your attention. 
You look up at him, and he licks his lips, exhaling a small puff of air before wrapping a hand around his base.
“This is the prettiest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he praises, and you smile, heat rising to your cheeks once more. Lowering himself slightly, he cups your breasts, pressing them together and grunting, “I’m gonna fuck these one day. But now?” he says, releasing them and stroking your chin affectionately. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty mouth.”
“You ever suck someone off, baby?” he asks in a low voice, and you shake your head, making his eyes slide shut in bliss as he squeezes himself harder. “Fuck, I’m your first?”
“Yes,” you mumble shyly, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down slightly to cup your chin with his free hand. 
“Remember when you were sucking that little lollipop the other day?” he asks, and you nod. “It’s kind of like that. Use your tongue, and the wetter it is, the better.”
You nod carefully and sit forward, letting your jaw drop open. 
“Fuck, baby. Tongue out for me?” he grunts, and you oblige, letting your tongue drop out of your mouth and lie flat for him. “So good, baby, just like that,” he encourages, leaning forward and guiding the head of his cock into your mouth. 
It feels strange but not unwelcome, and you suck gently at the head of his cock, more focused on using your tongue to explore the intrusion in your mouth. Based on the way Haechan’s breathing shallows and quickens, you suspect you’re doing a pretty good job.
“Baby, you’re so good at this,” he groans, his head tipping back before it snaps back up as he seemingly realizes he’d rather watch you. “Mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock like that.”
You can only manage a whimper as you boldly press forward, taking more of his length into your mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath as you swirl your tongue around his length before tentatively flicking it over the slit in the head of his cock. He groans weakly and, emboldened, you do it again, Haechan letting out a delicious little grunt that spurs you to kick it up another notch.
You start to bob your head, doing your best to alternate between bobbing and licking, and Haechan shudders deeply, his hand releasing the rest of his cock and moving to cup the back of your head, fingers slipping into your hair. 
“Just like that—fuck—” he hisses, biting his lip as he watches you suck him off, skill increasing with every movement. When you push forward a bit too suddenly, eager to impress him, you choke briefly on his length, throat constricting slightly as your gag reflex activates slightly. “Oh, shit—”
Despite the slight ache to the back of your throat, you keep sucking, moving forward slower this time to allow your throat time to adjust to his size. When you massage the underside of his tip with your tongue, wet muscle gliding over the ridge of skin, he moans your name and it’s one of the most rewarding sounds you think you’ve ever heard.
“So good,” he pants as you bob your head up and down, and his length twitches in your mouth, giving you a hint that he’s close. “Gonna cum, baby.”
You move your head faster, sucking his length to the best of your ability with all the tricks you just learned, and his fingers grip your hair tightly as he spills into your mouth, his hips sluggishly thrusting forward as he shallowly fucks your mouth. 
“You,” he grunts, helping you to your feet so you’re face to face and kissing you deeply, “are a fast little learner.” His tongue slips between your lips and he explores your mouth eagerly, licking at your tongue and inner cheeks as you whimper, dizzied by the fervor of his kisses. 
“Baby,” he mumbles into the kiss, the urgency in his voice waking you up slightly, “I wanna eat you out. Can I taste you, princess?” When you nod, he grins brilliantly. “Gonna make you feel so good.”
He drops to his knees and slides his hands up from your ankles, hands slipping under your skirt to caress your hips. Pulling your underwear off, he drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, warm, slender fingers spreading apart your folds to get a better look at you.
When you whine softly in embarrassment, he shushes you gently, murmuring, “I just want to admire you for a second, baby, please?” He ducks his head under your skirt and sucks in a sharp breath when he’s met with the sight of your core, folds glistening with your arousal. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he breathes in awe, and before you can reply, his mouth is on you, upper lip resting just above your clit as his tongue strokes along your folds indulgently.
“Oh, my God,” you whisper, stumbling back slightly to lean against the wall behind you. Haechan moves with you fluidly, massaging your clit with his tongue as his fingers clutch your thighs, kneading the flesh with greedy, rough movements.
Tongue moving downwards towards your entrance, he prods the tip of it against your hole, chuckling when you jolt and squirm under his actions. “Don’t be shy, baby, I just want to taste.”
You nod even though he can’t see you, and he must be able to tell, because his tongue pushes forward, slowly breaching your entrance. You suck in a loud breath as his tongue delves further into you, occasionally coming out to slurp up the arousal dripping from your hole. 
“Tastes so good, baby,” he moans, his nose rubbing against your clit as he slowly starts to move his tongue in and out inside of you. The feeling is strange but amazing, a slightly ticklish element to the pleasure you’re receiving as he tongue-fucks you. 
Slurping loudly and moaning even louder, Haechan loses himself in your core, alternating between tongue-fucking you and licking at your folds and clit, leaving sloppy wet kisses that make your mind spin.
“Yeah, you like that?” he grunts, sucking at your clit hard before slipping his tongue out to stroke the sensitive underside of the sensitive bud. “You like when I kiss your pretty pussy? Hm? Do you like it when I make out with your sweet little pussy?”
“Yes,” you whimper, fingers clutching at his head over your skirt. When you get a good grip on him, you start to pull him closer, wanting more of his touch.
“Always so good—so shy and innocent.” Haechan murmurs, words slightly muffled from his oral ministrations on your pussy. “Now look at you; look how bad you’re being.”
“Haechan, please,” you breathe, and he turns his head to suck at your inner thighs, no doubt leaving a mark or two in his wake.
“Wanna see just how bad I can make you be.” he coos before surging forward to lap at your core eagerly, losing himself once more in the taste of you. “Fucking delicious, baby, you taste so good for me.”
He sucks and licks and kisses—even nibbles a bit—until your legs are shaking and your grip on his hair is iron-clad. You briefly consider the extremely compromising position someone might find you in if one of your friends walked down the hall and are surprised to find that not only do you not care, but there’s even a smidge of excitement when you think about getting caught like this, with Haechan’s head under your skirt and your breasts exposed.
“Haechan, I’m—I think I’m gonna—” you pant out, and he nods fervently, tongue slipping out of your entrance to flick your clit back and forth rapidly, a sharp whine slipping from you.
“Cum for me, baby—cum all on my tongue.” he urges, pulling you closer as he feverishly laps at your clit and entrance, shaking his head from side to side rapidly to run his tongue along your core back and forth. “That’s it, pretty girl, just let go.” he purrs, coaxing your climax out of you, and you do just that, letting the coil wound tight in your abdomen snap and letting the pleasure flood through your body.
“Haechan—” you whimper, and he hums soothingly as his tongue massages your clit once more, thoroughly milking your orgasm for all its worth. When the trembling of your legs has calmed down slightly and you’ve started to breathe normally once more, he pops his head out from under your skirt and winks up at you, chin and lips covered in your arousal.
“You’re addicting, baby; could eat your pussy for hours.” he says as he rises to his feet. A look downwards grants you the sight of his erection, fully hard once more, and you swallow thickly before looking up at him only to see that he’s already watching you with a small grin on his face. “Think you can handle one more?”
You’re nodding before you even realize it, and Haechan beams at you, drawing closer and closer until you’re flat against the wall. 
Nudging your legs apart, he settles between them and aligns his tip with your entrance, looking up from where your bodies meet to your face.
“Ready, baby?” he asks, and you nod carefully, eyes drifting back down from his face to where the thick head of his length presses against your core. “Good girl,” he breathes before pushing into you slowly, covering your mouth with his palm as you gasp out loudly. “Baby, they’ll catch us if you keep making noise like that.”
“S-Sorry,” you stammer, but it’s a muffled apology given that Haechan’s hand is still firmly clasped over your mouth. “So full,” you whisper in awe, and he chuckles lowly in your ear, lips pressing to the spot just behind your lobe. 
“Feel so tight around me, baby,” he grunts, his labored breathing in your ear telling you that he’s just as affected as you are. “So fucking good—”
“Haechan, move,” you whisper urgently as he bottoms out in you, and he obliges, pulling out to the tip and pushing into you again. A loud whoosh of air escapes your lungs, and he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, making you let out a loud whimper that would have been much louder had Haechan’s hand not muffled it.
“I’m starting to think you want to get caught.” Haechan murmurs with a smile on his lips as he kisses along your jaw and moves his hand to kiss you. 
“Mm—! No, I don’t—” you insist through your cries of pleasure, and he shakes his head with a taunting grin.
“Yes, you do,” he teases. “You want all our friends to come in this hallway and see me fucking you like the perfect little fuckdoll I always knew you could be.”
“Hae–chan—” you stutter, tiny noises leaving you with every powerful thrust of his hips. He’s so good, so big and thick, and he’s filling you up just right and hitting all the right places, and it becomes too much very quickly, an overwhelming amount of pleasure rushing through your body as he fucks into you. If it couldn’t get worse for you, he reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in quick circles just like you showed him earlier. “Fuck—stop—too much—”
“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” he coos, shifting himself to angle his hips into you just right so that every snap of his hips sends his tip fucking directly into your g-spot. 
You feel warmth behind your eyes, the telltale pricking at the corners that you know all too well, and the first tear drops before you can wipe it away, another tear following after that as the pleasure all but consumes you.
“Aw, baby, don’t cry, it feels good,” he consoles you, reaching up with his free hand to wipe your tears away. 
“So good—too good—” you babble, and he laughs at that, brows furrowing at the end as you clench around him.
“It can’t be too good, baby—you’re not making sense anymore.” he says with a playful lilt, and you whimper, more tears falling as you sniffle pathetically. “Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.”
“Wanna cum—Haechan, please let me cum—” you beg, and his movements stutter, Haechan looking at you in surprise.
“Yeah? Baby wants to cum?” he grunts, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as your walls flex around him again. “Fuck, I love when you do that—feels so good—cum for me, baby.” 
Not needing to be told twice, you promptly fall apart around him with a messy string of swears and “please” and utterances of Haechan’s name as your nails dig into his forearm, making him wince slightly. You’re sure you look a mess, eyes wet and glossy as tears stream down your cheeks, but Haechan’s drinking in your appearance like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“Baby—I’m close—fuck—” Haechan grunts. “Gonna cum—where do you want it?”
“Want it inside of me, please—” you croak weakly, and he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a smug chuckle and a moan.
“Can’t believe you were skittish as a mouse just the other day, and now you’re begging for my cum. Want me to fill you up?” he pants, hips driving into yours with reckless abandon. 
“Please—” you whimper, and he swears under his breath.
“Fuck—take it all, baby,” he urges, hips pressing into yours as he buries himself in you and empties his load. “It’s all for you,” he says breathlessly as his length twitches inside of you.
He stays inside of you for a moment, both of you attempting to catch your breath, before he slowly pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your skirt back into place. To your confusion, he hooks his fingers in your underwear, pulling the thin, arousal-soaked fabric down and off your legs. 
“Um…” you start, and Haechan looks over at you, brows raised expectantly. “Those are mine,” you state, pointing at the fabric in his fist.
“And now,” he hums, bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply, eyes sliding shut in bliss just in time to miss your scandalized expression. “They’re mine. C’mon; you should use the bathroom.”
He loops his fingers around yours, other hand stuffing your underwear in his back pocket as he leads you to the bathroom.
When the door closes behind you, you sit down on the toilet with slightly shaky legs, taking a moment to think about everything that just occurred. 
You would have never in a million years thought that you’d have sex with Haechan, let alone in the hallway—let alone, with your friends in the very next room. However, as you think over the events that just transpired, your body is filled with a warm thrum of satisfaction, and you can’t seem to find an ounce of regret. 
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“Girl, where the hell were you?!” Karina exclaims, fussing over you as soon as you reappear in the living room. “We’ve been texting and calling for ages!”
“Oh,” you mumble, pulling your phone from the little pocket in your skirt. “It’s been on Do Not Disturb,” you explain sheepishly, and Karina rolls her eyes hard.
“Don’t do that again. You had us worried sick. What were you even doing for so long?”
“Um… well, Haechan and I,” you start, casting a side glance to the couch where Haechan sits and hesitating slightly when you see that he’s watching you intently, not an ounce of shame in his expression. “We hooked up.” you say finally, straightening your back slightly and standing up taller.
Yeri’s jaw drops. “About damn time.” she remarks, and you narrow your eyes at her.
“Hush, you.” you huff, looking over at where Haechan sits once more. He locks eyes with you and grins, patting the empty spot next to him and wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and you smile, looking away from him to address your bewildered friends. “I’ll explain everything later—”
“Yeah, yeah, just go, girl.” Karina chuckles. “He’s waiting,” she sing-songs, and you elbow her slightly before shooting them a bright smile and a small wave and making your way to sit next to Haechan. 
When you sit down, Haechan drapes his arm around you on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks.
“So,” he says carefully, taking a hit of his pen and exhaling slowly before he continues, “I know this is a little backwards of me, but… do you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”
“I’d like that,” you reply with a bashful smile, and he grins, relieved.
“Great. Now in the meantime,” he says, looking pointedly towards the hallway before looking back at you expectantly, “I have a nice ass TV, snacks, and a strong ass edible with your name on it in my room. You down?”
You don’t even hesitate. “I’m down.” you agree, smile widening, and he nods, satisfied. He stands from the couch and offers you his hand, which you take as he pulls you to your feet.
As you trail after him towards his room, fingers still locked with his, you can’t help but notice the familiar peek of fabric sticking out of his back pocket, and your eyes widen in alarm.
“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, and he looks back at you with raised brows. “My, um, underwear is sticking out of your pocket.”
“So?” he answers simply, and you pause, brain buffering for a moment.
“So?”
“Yeah. No one knows it’s your underwear but you and me,” he points out as you reach his bedroom door. He swings it open and gestures for you to enter first, head dipping down to your ear as you pass by. “So it’s our little secret.”
“Oh,” you mumble, thinking it over. “Okay.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he says encouragingly, guiding you to his bed and gesturing for you to sit down. “Now, what do you want to watch?”
“Uh, we can watch Family Guy,” you suggest, and he looks at you, pleasant surprise written on his handsome features, before he nods and picks up the TV remote.
“Good choice,” he praises, sitting down beside you against the headboard of his bed. “Perfect show to play in the background while we make out.”
“Oh—” you stammer, blinking in surprise, and he snorts, eyes fond as he scans your bashful demeanor.
“I’m kidding.” he assures you, and you can’t help but frown slightly. Unfortunately for you, this doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, and he chuckles. “You wanted to make out, didn’t you?”
“A little bit,” you mumble, and he grins, leaning in closer to you.
“That can be arranged.” he murmurs, still smiling as his lips meet yours.
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