#drawing kissing is the WORST it's so fucking hard to get it to look like lips mushing together jfc

[kasper-tag]

🌈Happy Pride, y'all! 🌈

Behold, my gayest creation:

(Click the image for higher quality!)

I had the opportunity to draw the Pride Month version of the @malecdiscordserver's banner! It was an absolute struggle, but I'm super proud of myself for how it turned out and for getting it done on time. I learned so much while making this, it's ridiculous.

Please let me know what you think! 🖤

[augustinewrites]

“you’re an idiot.”

“really, doc? you’re gonna insult me after i came all this way to see you?”

you pause what you’re doing to stare down at wriothesley with a wholly unimpressed look. “you were wheeled in on a stretcher.”

(he’d even come in shirtless, one hand resting behind his head all laid out like a fontanian model in a clothing campaign.)

he dismisses the fact with a wave of his good hand, tsking. “only because sigewinne threatened to tranq me if i didn’t get on!”

you know for a fact that the head nurse is still stationed outside the infirmary in case his grace tries to leave without staying for overnight observation.

“she should have done it anyway,” you hum, taking his wrist and using it to carefully position his arm at his side. you nod at the nurse across from you holding the band to keep him steady. “deep breath now, your grace.”

wriothesley draws a breath and releases it quickly, grinning up at you. “so, what are you— fuck!”

“get him a sling,” you instruct, stifling a laugh as you let go of his arm and step back. “i’ll get him an ice pack.”

the two of you move around the infirmary, quickly gathering supplies as the duke lets loose a string of expletives that would make sigewinne faint.

it’s quite entertaining to see the duke pout, holding a heart-patterned ice pack to his shoulder. “i think i deserve a kiss for that.”

“a kiss is going to help with shoulder pain?”

“duh.”

this time, you don’t stifle your laughter as he closes his eyes and puckers his lips.

you pull a sticker from your pocket, pressing it to his waiting lips. “you were a very brave boy.”

his pucker turns into a pout as he uses his good hand to take the sticker off, sticking it to his discarded gauntlets. he looks more like a puppy than a wolf in this state.

with the worst of it out of the way, you begin tending to any scrapes or bruises.

it should be simple, but wriothesley doesn’t make it easy. he flexes playfully whenever your fingertips brush his biceps. insists on holding your hand when the antiseptic touches his wounds.

“okay, you’re all done,” you tell him, peeling off your gloves and tossing them into the bin. “but you will have to stay overnight so we can monitor you for any concussion symptoms.”

his brows raise as he clicks his tongue, smirking. “oh? are you asking me on a date?”

“no,” you say, tucking your clipboard under your arm. “i’m doing my due diligence as your physician.”

“but it’ll just be me and you and this very romantic lighting…”

“it’s dim light because someone keeps forgetting to put in the order for new ones.”

“they’re dim? hm, i didn’t notice. how could i when your smile lights up the room?”

you roll your eyes when he winks, but can’t help the heat you feel spreading across your face. “if you keep this up, i’ll have sigewinne and her tranquilizer gun stay overnight with you instead.”

“if i stop and you stay, will you at least have tea with me?” he asks, a hopeful glimmer in his eye.

“fine, i’ll stay. but only if i get to pick the tea,” you tell him, pulling a chair to the side of his bed and shedding your lab coat to get comfortable. “you’re especially insufferable when you’re injured, aren’t you?”

he reaches out and pulls the chair closer, so you’re sitting between his knees. “and yet, you’re finally succumbing to the temptation of my rock hard abs and winning personality.”

“no,” you deny, but you’d be lying if you said being this close to his spectacularly toned torso wasn’t doing…things to you. “it’s because you have liyue imported tea.”

“yeah,” he says, flashing you a charming, sinful smile that makes the fine hairs on the back of your neck raise, threatening to shatter your resolve. “if you say so.”

[stayevildarling]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader- Whispered confessions

A/N: basically an Avengers with benefits kinda situation but reader whispers a confession she shouldn‘t have.

tw/tags: mild mention of a gunshot, mild mention of blood, lots of smut, nsfw, reader recieving, top nat recieving, oral, fingering, strap on, bit of angst, hurt/comfort

word count: 3.8k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

You had just stepped out of the shower moments ago, washing away the exhaustion and blood off your body from the last mission. Hair still damp and towel wrapped around your body, you hear a knocking on your door within the avengers compound, knowing exactly who was going to stand on the opposite side of it, that same look in her eyes.

And just as expected , your eyes fall upon Natasha, still in her uniform from today, her hair slightly messy and that same expression of hunger and lust in her eyes. She glances at your exposed body, silently asking for permission and to enter and you simply open the door further, walking away from her and once hearing the door shut behind you letting the towel sink from your body and exposing your naked form.

You glance behind your shoulder, seeing how her eyes turn considerably darker and without warning she lunges forward, her lips capturing yours in a fiery kiss as she pushes you to the nearest wall, your back hitting against it harder than either of you anticipated but not caring either way. Her breath is hot against you as she lifts you into her arms, your legs immediately wrapping around her waist as she carries you to the dining table, not caring about making it to bed.

You can see in her eyes how hungry and exhausted she is, this mission having undeniably been a lot and despite you getting the worst of it this time, neither of you could stop the hunger inside you for each other. Natasha trails sloppy and lazy kisses down your neck before trailing her mouth lower and lower until she reaches your sweet spot, your glistening core greeting her as she delves her tongue into you. You throw your head back in pleasure, the familiar feeling of having her between your legs sending a shiver down you and a heat throughout your entire body.

„Fuck“ you moan out as your chest heaves, the woman wasting no time as she pushes her tongue deeper inside you, drawing the sweetest noises from you. Your nails dig into her back and she knows it means you are already so close for her. „You‘re so filthy, ready to cum already“ she hisses as she extracts her tongue and bites the inside of your thighs, causing your breath to hitch. Her fingers enter you fast without warning, curling them deep inside you as her tongue attacks your sweet spot again, sending you tumbling right over the edge.

She doesn‘t give you time to relax, pulling you up as she kisses you hard, the desire dripping from you still as she forces her fingers into your mouth, letting you taste your arousal. „Are you gonna return the favor?“ she asks with a raised eyebrow and you roll your eyes a little at her antics, the stress quite literally radiating from her. You begin taking her uniform off, slow and deliberate as you begin kissing down her body, exposing her naked form and despite her eagerness you take the time to kiss her scars and bruises, a habit you do every time and despite her disapproval she lets you, just like she usually would.

She leans against the table as she spreads her legs, giving you access and pushing your head right into her center, making you return the favor and of course you do, never being able to deny the woman of anything. Your tongue works it‘s own magic, swirling perfectly against her clit before you run deeper and enter her, hitting her sweet spot. She would often wear her strap but tonight she must have been so desperate she found your room straight after debriefing. „Fuck detka“ she whispers as she throws her head back in pleasure. You can tell she is holding back, trying not to cum so fast so you can‘t make fun of her later but you move just the right ways, entering her with your tongue while rubbing her clit lazily, sending her right over the edge.

Her eyes burn with desire after you help her ride out her high, her eyes seeming much less stressed and tense as before. She doesn‘t waste a lot of time before silently asking your permission to use the bathroom and you nod, watching as she disappears in there. You wait patiently as you sit on your bed, by now dressed and some of her spare clothes on the bed as she had forgotten them last time. You greet her with a gentle smile when she returns and you can tell she is much less tense than before, a grateful smile tugged on her lips as she notices the clothes and begins dressing herself.

Your eyes watch her and the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach settles, the same as always upon having her leave. Once she is dressed she glances at you and the words leave you much quicker than you could stop yourself. „Do you wanna stay?“ you ask and her eyes widen once your word settle in. „I mean- we could have some pizza, watch a movie or something“ you mumble, scratching your neck nervously, expecting her to run the way she usually would but to your surprise she agrees. „Sure, only if I can have a large one and choose the movie“ she shrugs with a sly smile and your eyes light up as you nod. „Of course“ you agree and she chuckles as the two of you walk towards the sofa.

That was the first night Natasha stayed over, the two of you watching some action movies, chuckling at silly scenes and her making some avenger comments about your fellow team. The two of you ate pizza before you eventually fell asleep in front of the tv, the exhaustion heavy on your body and by the time you woke up again, you found yourself in bed, Natasha beside you, this not being the first time you had been in your bed with her. And when you realize she stayed, you smile, the same tingling feeling returning to your stomach, as you snuggle closer to the redhead.

The next morning, the two of you go for round two, knowing you would have some recruits training today and possibly another mission within the next few days. Natasha and you had been Avengers for years, you joining much later on when Yelena had originally brought you in, introduced you to the others, meant to give you a home for a while until Tony appreciated your talents. The first time you and Natasha had slept together was at one of his parties some months later, the two of you drunk, tense from some past missions and one thing leading to another. Natasha not able to refuse you in that suit and you not able to refuse her in that dark red dress.

And then it would keep happening, the late night knocks, the occasional quickies during an undercover mission. The ones in the gym after training recruits or the ones on the rooftop, the two of you tipsy while ditching some boring parties or get togethers. And you knew the woman partly used you for her own desires, to calm down from missions and to blow off steam and somehow you were doing the same but there had always been something different about the way you look at Natasha. You didn‘t see her as the Black Widow, the strong avenger or simply for the looks. You could see past it all, you could see beneath her walls, the cracks of pain from years of torture in the redroom.

You could easily tell if a mission was triggering her, if something was on her mind by the slight twitching of her lips or her hands balling into fists. You knew her inside out, the scars, visible ones and the ones hidden from years ago. And somehow everyone around you knew, knew what had been going on between you and knew the way you looked at Natasha. But somehow the two of you had been wrapped up in it all that you never noticed. Things began changing with the next mission, one that wasn‘t supposed to take long, a quick in and out when both you and the Black Widow got ambushed.

Several guards suddenly in your way and you saw the bullet flying way faster than Natasha did and without thinking twice you pushed her out the way, her features tense as she saw you on the floor, quickly calling for backup before fighting them off one by one, suddenly overtaken by rage. She stuck around while you got the wound stitched, nothing serious but she insisted on taking you back to your room either way. „What were you thinking?“ she hisses as she sees you sitting on the sofa moments later, staring at your bloody uniform. „You could have died“ she hisses and for the first time that night you could see something beyond her stern demeanor, wondering if she actually cared about you in that way.

You couldn‘t help yourself, despite the wincing and pain radiating off your entire body you cling to her, capturing her lips in yours. And she returns it, her hands instantly holding your body in place as she takes you to the sofa, moments later both your clothes abandoned on the floor and you saw the small buldge the entire mission, knowing she was wearing it for you tonight. You can tell she is hesitant, her hands so much more careful than usual, less rougher, as if you are the most delicate thing on the planet and she didn‘t mean to hurt you but you didn‘t care, needing the redhead more than anything tonight to stop your heart from swelling for her.

„Are you sure?“ she whispers as your lips connect to her neck, leaving desperate kisses, causing her own arousal to build. „Yes I don‘t care“ you moan, desperatly clutching onto the woman and holding her close to your body. „Please I want you inside me“ you moan upon noticing her holding back but your statement causes something in her eyes to turn considerably darker, her hands travelling down your body and her fingers collecting your wetness, checking whether you are ready for her and when she feels your soaked pussy, she can‘t help herself from sitting on the sofa , grabbing your hips and positioning you on top of her, her whole length filling you up and causing your pupils to blow. Your mouth forms into an „O“ shape as you cling to her lips again, hands steady on her shoulders as she keeps your hips in place, slowly rocking back and forth and seeing the pleasure overtake you slowly.

There was something different about tonight, the way you both clung to each other, despite the desperation, there being a slowness to it, a passion that usually wasn‘t there. Your lips never left each other‘s, eyes locking whenever you would open them, her cock entering you so slow and gently and the look in her eyes something that you hadn‘t seen before. Natasha doesn‘t need to speed up her movements, the two of you staying like this for the longest time while the world around you fades before she feels your familiar nails on her back, thrusting into you deeper before feeling your liquid cover her length, her own juices dripping down her cock moments later. „Tasha“ you moan in pleasure, her breath mingling with yours hot and needy.

„Detka“ she moans in your ear, the pet name sending you right into overdrive as you begin bouncing on her, the feeling sending a heat through your entire body. She watches in awe as you go for round two without adjusting, slamming into her, watching your tits bounce and your head thrown back in pleasure. She holds it in place, never taking her eyes off you. She needs you to cum for her and she needs it right now, wasting no time as she pulls you foward your chests collapsing against each other as she begins pounding into you hard, your entire body on fire, this feeling like no orgasm you have ever had before, so raw, so intimate that it causes you to collapse into her, your head falling onto her shoulders.

„You feel so good Y/N“ she whispers before you moan, sleepiness already taking over you at the exhaustion from todays mission and this. „I love you Tasha“ you whisper, the words leaving you much quicker than you can stop them, or even think about them. You feel her stiffening in your arms and your eyes widen upon realising what you had just done. There is a heavy silence and you carefully leave her lap, the emptiness of the silence and leaving her cock immediately leaving you hollow. You avoid her gaze, feeling so embarrassed before disappearing into the bathroom, having missed the expression on her face and how her entire world fell apart for a moment.

Leaning against the door you quickly sink down it, holding your breath before hearing your apartment door closing seconds later. And you sigh then, some part of you glad that she left as you couldn‘t find it in yourself to look at her after this. You end up collapsing into the shower, wiping away the lingering blood, sweat and exhaustion from the day. Yet Natasha lingers on your mind, knowing those words should have never escaped you, knowing those words would cause her so much hurt knowing her painful past and how guarded and careful she was with her heart. You knew this was just a relief for her, to take some edge of being an Avenger and you wish the words never escaped you, despite the vulnerability of the moment before.

That night you don‘t see Natasha, opting to give her some space, the same as the days following to the next mission, you kept to yourself mostly, training on your own instead of with the woman, missing the way she would make you laugh during and the way she would make you feel after. But the embarrassment of it all kept you hidden away, hoping she would simply carry on the way you both had been, hoping this wouldn‘t change anything, despite knowing the chances are slim. The next time you see her is on the quinjet a few days later, as she sits across you, greeting you with her casual smile and you are grateful she isn‘t ignoring you, even if it is for the sake of not showing something is going on in front of your teammates.

And somehow neither of you really saw each other much, the two of you assigned different tasks and somehow only seeing each other on the quinjet as she flies home and you tiredly collapse against a seat. Mission debriefing is quick as all of you simply want to get back to your own rooms and you can‘t get yourself to look at her, as she sits across from you, the shame and hurt taking over as you bolt out as soon as the meeting finishes. You never noticed her eyes searching yours during the meeting, how she was trying to communicate with you in silence, trying to catch up with you as she saw some tears in your eyes.

She had been on her way to her room, wanting to give you space when Clint had stopped her, pulled her aside and talked to her. Having been her longest friend, he knew all about you two, the woman never having said anything but not needing to. Whenever he mentioned your name or someone from the team her eyes softened, she was oddly protective about you and he of course figured out by now where she would often steal away to when catching her in the hallway. He had seen it on this mission, working closely with you how you seemed so sad and how Natasha seemed distant, how her eyes bored into yours during the meeting and how yours avoided her. „You need to tell her“ he said and the redhead simply acted like she didn‘t know what he is talking about, her guard high up as always.

„I know you don‘t think you know how to love or be loved Nat but I see it in your eyes and hers“ is all he said before putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing it, a reassuring smile on his lips as he left her standing there, doing his part. And something within her changed then, she realizes that all along she had been holding back from allowing herself to feel what should have been obvious to her by now. Why she never minded you kissing her scars, why she never shared intimacy with anyone else like this before, why she kept running back to you when she felt vulnerable, beaten and broken. She loved you. And when that realisation ripples through her, she runs. She runs like she never had before, as if the world would stop and you would slip away if she didn‘t find and tell you right now.

Her breathing is heavy as she knocks on your door, her hands shaking and her eyes wide with realization. You had again just stepped out of the shower, ready to get into bed after this mission, barely in a towel as you open the door, assuming it was someone else as Natasha‘s knocks had always been quieter, much like the secrecy you shared with each other. When your eyes fall upon her, you immediately tense, noticing her state and concern overtaking you, never having seen her so serious before. „Tasha are you okay?“ you ask but she doesn‘t respond, pushing the door open before closing it with her leg, rushing towards you as her hands cup your cheeks, her lips hurriedly finding yours.

You close your eyes, surprised by the sudden shift in the kiss, so much more intense and so different to usual. Your mind runs wild as you figure out whether to stop her, knowing this shouldn‘t go on after your confession. Debating whether to keep going for your sake, the woman keeping you safe and warm always and not wanting to miss her embrace. You are so wrapped in it all you never notice your eyes watering and her pulling away upon feeling the tears on her hands. „I‘m sorry“ you whisper, your eyes still closed, as she wipes your tears with her thumbs. „I want this and I want you and I shouldn‘t have said what I did, I‘m sorry, I promise I can get past it“ you ramble on, missing the way her face crumbles upon hearing your words, understanding the pain you would go through to have her close.

„Detka.. Detka“ she stops you, and as you notice her thumbs still rubbing your cheeks you open your eyes and seeing her expression, so much unlike what you expected. „I‘m not here for that“ she encourages, her voice filled with so much softness, calm despite her hands shaking against you. „I.. I love you detka“ she finally speaks, the words taking your breath away as everything around you stops. Your heart beats out of your chest before the doubts creep in, wondering if she was only saying this because she felt bad for you and wanted to keep this going. „Tasha“ you sigh, as your eyes lock with her own. But you can see it then, behind her eyes, the truth. You can see love, a vulnerability that you have never seen before and a realization.

„But“ you try to protest, however the redhead doesn‘t let you. „No buts detka“ she smiles, her hands still not leaving your cheeks, keeping you close. „I shouldn‘t have ran, shouldn‘t have stayed away“ she admits and some more tears swell in your eyes upon hearing her version of the truth. She can see the doubts in your eyes, the insecurities and she wants to make sure to take them all away. „Why do you think I keep coming back to you? Why do you think I was so worried and mad when you got hurt because of me?“ she whispers and you smile sadly then, as she slowy wipes all the doubts from your face. „I love you, may I show you?“ she asks and you nod slowly, her lips capturing yours before she picks you up, taking you to bed this time, so much slower than usual, like the two of you have all the time in the world, there not being any rushing this time.

She lays you down gently, as if you are the most fragile thing on the planet. Her hands gently rid you from the towel, exposing your body as her lips capture yours in a passionate kiss. The redhead takes her time, kissing every inch of your body, your scars, the lingering wound you had taken for her, her fingers trailing over it gently. She makes you feel loved as she caresses every inch of you, showing you exactly what she adores about you. When she takes your hardened buds into her mouth she keeps eye contact, watching you throw your head back in pleasure as she slowly gets you ready for her. She takes her time as she takes your clit into her mouth, eating you out with patience, taking her time before she enters you.

Every thrust is filled with patience, love as she holds you close, not an inch of the usual tension in her features and movements. Your eyes stay on her the entire time as she kneels close to you, her fake cock hitting all the right places, filling you up so perfectly. She has you close eventually, building you up so well before she pulls you up, sitting you on top of her as she wants to be closer, still keeping the pace and filling you up. „You‘re so good for me, so beautiful“ she whispers into your ears as she holds you close. „I love your body, I love how you respond to me and I love you“ she whispers, your orgasm building and as she glances at you she sees the tears, concern filling her features as she stops. „No.. no carry on“ you encourage „I just.. I feel so good“ you moan and it‘s all she needs before she sends you over the edge. „Tasha“ you moan, the orgasm washing over you stronger than ever before.

That night she lays beside you, as you collapsed onto her chest, not thinking about leaving the way she usually would. Finally having realized her feelings and never planning on letting you go again. She likes the feelings of having you in her arms like this, an unfamiliar feeling of home and safety that she hadn‘t felt before. She smiles softly as she notices your exhaustion, despite trying to keep your eyes open. „Go to sleep detka, I‘ll be right here when you wake up, I promise“ she whispers before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. And of course she kept her promise, never leaving you again from now on.

[rosenclaws]

Hi! 👋

I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if I could submit a request?

The reader is a shy artist who is a friend of Wades. She carries a sketchbook with her everywhere to sketch new pieces, but she doesn't show her work to people unless it's to Wade.

She and Worst!Logan become friends and slowly develop feelings for one another, but they won't say anything to each other because they think that the other wouldn't want them. Until Worst!Logan finds her sketchbook by accident and finds the book is filled with sketches of him. Worst!Logan confronts her about it, but she's a stuttering mess, and they end up confessing to each other. And please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or a makeout session. Your choice lol.

Thank you and have a good day! 😊

Hidden Feelings and Hidden Sketches || Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, wade making suggestive comments, make out sesh towards the end, reader gets drunk and logan helps her out. Logan also calls the reader sketch. It got kinda suggestive at the end I apologize sldfjka

a/n: Hi!! This idea is adorable omg I love it, I hope it was fluffy enough for you I have to admit I'm not great at writing pure fluff. I also hope wade is funny because I am not funny so its hard to write his dialogue sometimes. I also altered the plot a little so i hope its okay

You never quite understood how you and Wade became friends. He was possibly the biggest extrovert you have ever met and you were the exact opposite. He saw you once at his favorite diner with your sketchbook and he jumped into the seat across from you.

Yapping on about your art and if you drew often and that he once tried to paint but the class didn't appreciate his art and asking if you'd paint him naked as a present for his girlfriend. Which you declined very quickly.

He wouldn't leave you alone, talking and asking you all sorts of things. You getting a few words in and him covering the other 98% of the conversation. He left with the promise of seeing you again and disappeared before you could say anything else.

It was an odd experience that's for sure but you liked Wade. Sure enough he kept coming back and a friendship had blossomed. He invited you over to dinner multiple times but you always declined, choosing to meet at the diner instead.

Slowly he got you out of your shell around him. Cracking jokes and sometimes putting him in his place when he went a little too far. You showed him your sketchbook after a while and he gushed over your drawings. Begging you to draw him at his best angles and you would sometimes give in.

When he disappeared for a while you got worried, that is until he showed up with a new dog and a very handsome new friend. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. Wade spotted you and waved but you didn't even notice.

"I know right, he's like a tall glass of rage filled water." Wade sighs as he sits across from you.

"I uh what?" You hug your sketchbook close to your chest as you rip your eyes away from Wade's new friend.

"Oh don't pretend like you weren't eye fucking him the second he walked in here, not that I blame you." Your eyes widen as you start to stutter. Your face heating up as you stare at the pancakes in front of you instead. A loud grunt catches your attention. You can barely meet his eyes as your brain is too busy being embarrassed by what Wade had said.

"You can sit on my lap angel cakes." Wade pats his leg but gets shoved to the side as his new friend sits down across from you.

"Logan this is my friend, be a good kitty and play nice." Logan rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore Wade. He does look at you though, burning a whole through your skull.

"Hi Logan," You say shyly.

"Hi." A few beats of silence pass until Wade breaks it as usual.

"Well aren't you two the life of the party, if you excuse me I have to go relieve myself." Wade stands up and instead of asking Logan to move, starts to climb over the man.

"What the fuck?!" Logan hisses as he grabs Wades shirt and tosses him to the ground. You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth as your friend flops to the ground.

"So rude." Wade shakes his head and heads off to the bathroom. Silence falls once again as you awkwardly push around the pancakes on your plate.

"What's that?" Logan asks, nodding towards your sketchbook. You grab your book and shove it into your bag.

"Nothing! It's uh, just a sketchbook it's nothing don't worry about it." Logan raises an eyebrow as you panic in front of him.

As if you couldn't feel more embarrassed. You debate on waiting for wade or just leaving to save yourself but Logan makes the choice for you.

"You don't have to stay, not holding you hostage." He sips his coffee as you let out a shaky laugh.

"Not much of a talker." You play with your fork as you look up at Logan. He's much more handsome up close.

"Neither am I." He offers a small half smile and you return it. He's still incredibly intimidating but maybe you can stick it out a little longer. Logan's food comes and the two of you eat in a comfortable silence and when you're done you work up the courage if he'll be here tomorrow. He holds the door open for you as you step outside.

You clutch tightly onto the strap of your bag as you wait for his answer. He lights a cigar and you try and suppress your smile when he says he will be. As you part ways you realize that Wade never did come back from the bathroom.

That sneaky bastard.

-on

The diner uh, meetings as you called them, with Logan were amazing. His grumpy exterior was hard to crack but eventually the two of you started to become friends. Being with Logan started to become your favorite parts of the week. He was more than the tough guy persona he put on. What surprised you the most is that he seemed interested in you too. Well you know as friends.

Logan could appreciate someone who liked the quiet. He never pushed you out of your comfort zone, never made you feel uncomfortable. He was just Logan. Call it what you want but it was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels for that man. Not that you'd ever tell him.

How could you?

He's a superhero. He's gorgeous and grumpy and funny and so much more. All you do is draw silly pictures. So for now you settle on friends. Even if he makes your stomach turn with ever smile. Even if his laugh is the best thing you've ever heard. Friends. That's good enough for now.

-

"Wade Wilson I am going to kill you!" You say angrily.

He had texted you asking you to meet him for coffee and you had agreed solely because you never got the chance to scold him for his little dine and dash.

"Leaving me alone with a stranger!" You slap his hand as he tries to reach for your pastry.

"Ow! That was so five months ago! Anyways I was just trying to help. You know, relieve the sexual tension." You gasp as he makes a very lewd gesture with his hands.

"Besides, you and Logi bear are spending a lot of time together for just being friends huh Boo-Boo." Before you can stop him he reaches for your sketchbook. Keeping it just out of reach as he flips through the pages.

"Give it back!" You plead as you reach across the table.

"Oh. My. God. How come you never draw me this sexy?" He shows you the pages and you fall back into your seat in defeat.

You know what's in there and now Wade does too. Pages and pages of sketches of Logan. You feel like a stalker. It's not your fault! Ever since you met him he's all you can think about. All you can draw.

"Please give it back." You beg but he refuses.

"You'll get it back after you admit to Logan how you feel."

"What!" Your jaw drops as you make another lunge for your book.

"I am a very impatient man and I'm not about to wait another thousand words for the two of you to fuck." He stands up and tucks the book down his pants.

"Ew really?" You groan as you let your face fall into your hands.

"I'm having a get together and you're invited. Logan will be there it's the perfect opportunity." You feel like throwing up at the idea of talking to Logan about any of this.

Maybe you could just steal it back tonight. Or maybe you could never show your face to anyone ever again. Yah the second option sounds better. If only it was that simple. You waited for many anxiety filled hours, the only thing on your mind is getting your damn book back. You knock on the door and it swings open with Wade standing there, a stupid smile on his face.

"Honey badger at 4 o'clock." He hands you a drink and pushes you right towards him. You shoo him away, taking a deep breath and head towards Logan.

"Hi Logan," You say nervously.

"Didn't think these were really your thing." He says with a smile. You laugh nervously and nod your head.

"Yeah well...I thought he'd finally stop asking if I came to one of these things." You joke. Logan snorts and offers you the seat next to him.

"Good luck with that." You sit next to him and swirl around the ice in your drink.

If you're going to tell him then you're going to need a lot of help. Logan's eyes widen as you down your drink in one go, making a face before asking for another one. He's never seen you at a party, let alone drink.

"Why don't you take it easy there sketch."

"It's a party right, why not have a little fun." Logan keeps an eye on you as you drink and drink. As the night passes on he realizes that you might have had a little too much. You can barely get a sentence out by the time the party's over.

"Hi Logii!" Your arms slink around his neck as you stumble into him.

"Come on, let me take you home." He chuckles as he helps you to the door.

"Nooo, I needa get my uh..." You stop and think for a moment.

"My uhhh" Logan hums as he helps you to your apartment. You stay close to Logan as you walk through the night. He's just so warm and he smells so good.

"Got your keys?" You pat around for them and frown. Logan reaches into your bag and pulls them out.

"Right here." He unlocks your door and helps you to your bed. You sigh as your head hits your pillow.

"Oh! my sketchbook. Wade has my sketchbook." You say with a yawn.

"I'll get it back tomorrow, now sleep well." Logan takes off his jacket and lays it on you. He brushes your cheek gently. A soft smile on his face as he leaves you to sleep peacefully.

"Good night."

-

God your head hurt and the sun was way too bright. You crack your eyes open groan as you head pounds. What were you even thinking last night? You wanted your damn book back that's what you were thinking. A loud knock on your door makes you moan in pain. Getting up you swing open your door only to be met with Logan holding your book. Your face pales as you see a smirk on his face.

"Wade gave me back your book." You reach out for it but he holds it back.

"You're a real good artist sketch." To your horror he opens up your book and flips to one of its pages.

Right in front of you was a side profile sketch of Logan. It had been while you were at the park or something. The sun was hitting him perfectly, he had this content look on his face. You couldn't help but draw it when you got back home. To capture him in a moment where everything felt okay.

"I uh..I.." You don't know what to say. He caught you red handed. Your face is on fire from shame and embarrassment as he finally hands over your book. You can't even look at him.

"I'm sorry." You whisper. Shutting your eyes you hope he gets the hint and leaves, leaves you to wallow in pity.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"I'm flattered sketch. I think you really captured me pretty good." You still can't bring yourself to say anything as you hug your book tightly. You can't tell if he's making fun of you or what.

"This isn't funny Logan." You try and push his hand off you but his grip is strong.

"Not trying to be funny." He brushes his thumb over your lips.

"Logan..." Your eyes flick down to his lips and you know he catches you.

"Say it, come on don't be shy. Not with me." Sighing you dig your fingernails into your book.

"I love you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, eyes squeezing shut. You almost hope he doesn't hear it but of course he does.

He presses his lips to yours roughly. You drop your book in shock as you melt deep into his kiss. Wasting no time in kissing him back, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He deepens the kiss as his hands fall to your sides. You pull away much to his disappointment, his lips chasing after yours for a moment.

"I love you too." He kisses your jaw lightly making you sigh.

"You know, those drawings were good but I think you got my lips wrong." You furrow you eyebrows, you thought you got his lips pretty good. After all you stared at them long enough to memorize them.

"Yeah sweetheart, think you need a lesson." He walks you back until you hit your couch.

"Get up close and personal." He winks as you bite your lip. How flustered can he make you?

"Then maybe you can show me more of those drawings."

Well, If it would help make your drawings more, accurate. Then who are you to say no?

"Okay." You run your hands along his arm as you look back up at him. Nerves and excitement swirling around your eyes.

"Don't worry sketch, I'm a pretty good teacher."

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 11

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10

Steve waits until everyone’s gone home to open the letter. Chrissy had ribbed him over not sharing but, no matter how supportive she is, she just doesn’t get it—she can’t. No matter what she’s shared, her and Jeff are clearly dating. And even if they hadn’t been, Jeff likes girls. The worst thing that would’ve happened is him turning her down.

With Eddie? The worst thing that could happen is total annihilation.

And Steve’s never been good at holding himself back. He cares fast, and he cares hard, and he can never quite stop, no matter what changes, or how much distance he puts between himself and the other person. Look at Nancy, and Tommy, and Carol, and his parents, and every single relationship he’s had where he’s all in, and the other person never meets him. He doesn’t even need halfway, hell, he’d take a quarter.

But even that’s never how it works out. If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that Steve Harrington is too much, always.

So, if his fingers shake as he opens the letter, who can blame him?

But, inside is everything he could have ever asked for—Because you’re it, baby. He caresses the words, fingers trembling, heart shuddering in his chest to a beat that sounds a lot like, “maybe, maybe, maybe.”

He knows it’s stupid. This letter isn’t for Steve, not really. It’s Chrissy’s face Eddie pictured when he wrote it, Chrissy’s lips he imagined kissing, Chrissy’s hand he imagined holding. But, it’s hard to remember, when there’s such longing on the page in front of him.

He doesn’t know what to say, thoughts running too fast to pick them out and write them down. He tries, pen stuttering over the page in half-formed sentences, until he’s left with:

  Eddie —

  You don’t want to know what I

  Someone has loved you. I love

  I’ll take anything you

  Fuck

Hee crumples the letter up into a ball, and tosses it across the room toward the trash bin. He shoots, he misses, he lays down with all the lights still on.

Steve stares down at Eddie’s letter, helpless in the face of the bubbling hope, unwilling to squash it. He folds the letter back up and puts it under his pillow, hoping for dreams, just like Eddie had said.

He doesn’t.

Steve’s tired the next morning, zoning out during class, and shuffling through the halls like a zombie. Chrissy keeps sending him worried looks, and even Robin asks if he’s okay in Mrs. Click’s class, which she was right, they do share.

Steve tells her he’s just tired, and she drops it, but there’s a sad, knowing smile on her face.

It happens at lunch. Eddie jumps up on his lunch table, boots thudding loudly against its metal surface, drawing all eyes in the room toward him. Everyone looks away, familiar with his tabletop rants by now, but Steve can’t look away.

Eddie’s magnetic when he’s like this, a black hole swirling everything up in its path. Steve doesn’t want to miss a thing, barely blinks as Eddie begins the familiar walk across the Hellfire table.

“Forced conformity, folks—it’s what’s killing the kids!” he cries, clapping fast to punctuate the sentence. Across Steve’s own table, Tommy boos, gaining momentum when the people around him laugh and join in. “Oh, don’t act so high and mighty, Hagan, you’re the worst of all.”

He’s grinning, but it’s not the dimpled one. He’s just baring his teeth, a predator scenting blood. “You’re all so focused on shooting balls in laundry baskets, like that’s all there is, but guess what? You’re going to be a washed-up has-been before you’re even out of this school.”

He takes a few steps forward, eyes straying from Tommy farther up the table, making it clear he’s talking to all of them. “You don’t realize that daddy’s money’s gonna dry up, and you’ll be left with a wife and three kids you don’t even like, reliving the old glory days like they were even worth remembering.”

“Come say that to my face, Munson!” Tommy cries, standing up from the table as the rest of them egg him on.

Eddie makes a little rock and roll symbol and smirks, like that’s exactly what he wanted Tommy to say. “And you know what? That’s all you’ll deserve for the shit you’ve pulled. A sad lonely life with your sad flaccid dick.”

And suddenly, he’s looking right at Steve, gaze piercing straight through Steve and into his soft, squishy underbelly. There’s blood in the water, and by Eddie’s laugh, he can taste it. “You’ve earned it,” he says, not even blinking, his eyes so intense Steve can’t breath with it. “After all, once a jock, always a jock.”

Chrissy links their fingers and squeezes his hand beneath the table. Steve blinks, spell broken as he squeezes her back in thanks. He looks down at his remaining chicken nuggets, appetite gone.

“You okay?” Chrissy asks, barely audible with all the continued heckling.

Steve glances up just in time to watch Eddie jump down from the table and plop his ass down like none of it happened at all. He’s laughing as Jeff and Gareth pat his back, but he looks deflated, like the whole spectacle took everything out of him.

“I will be,” Steve replies, pushing his lunch tray away.

If nothing else, he has something to write now.

*** 

Eddie can’t get the look on Harrington’s face out of his mind. He’d been at the top of his game, riling the jocks up enough that Hagan had jumped up like a jack-in-the-box. But, then he’d looked at Harrington, and it’d all gone wrong.

The guy was drooping into himself, mouth down-turned, eyes like a kicked puppy. Eddie stuttered, got caught up in him, something unnameable stuck in his throat. Eddies doesn’t even know what he’d said after that, couldn’t hear himself think much less speak, until Harrington finally looked down at the tabletop and their eye contact broke. 

Now he’s stumbling over his words, trying not to even look Harrington’s way as he finishes off his speech. It lacks the usual oomph, but Eddie doesn’t care; he just wants the whole thing to end.

Eddie stumbles down into his chair, shuddering through his smile as Gareth and Doug elbow him in the side, ribbing him good-naturedly. He chokes out a laugh, and doesn’t look at the jock’s table for the rest of lunch.

The next time he sees Harrington, there’s another complication to contend with in the form of Robin Buckley, best known for her proficiency on the trumpet and quirky outfits. And now? She’s best known for attaching herself like a barnacle to Harrington’s side.

Except, if she was a barnacle, Harrington might at least try to shake her off. But, no. He just smiles at her, and whispers with her, as she inserts herself between Chrissy and Harrington like she belongs there.

Chrissy, for her part, seems to like the girl as well.

Eddie doesn’t get it, can’t comprehend what the hell’s happening, and it makes something squirmy and viscous sink into his stomach every time Buckley inserts herself between the pair, every time they smile at her.

But, they still stop to talk to him in between classes, so Eddie tries to drop it.

“It just doesn’t make sense!” Eddie cries, phone clutched to his ear, not even letting Gareth get a word out before he’s continuing the conversation Jeff had rudely interrupted by showing up to lunch. “What the hell is Harrington’s deal?”

“Dude, you’re like, obsessed,” Gareth replies, clearly talking around a mouthful of whatever after-school snack he’d chosen this time.

“Is he trying to date every girl in school at the same time?” he whines, yanking on his hair hard enough that his scalp tingles.

“You’re just jealous,” he replies, and that same squirmy feeling makes Eddie wriggle his whole body, like there’s a chill in the air.

Is the heater on the fritz again?

“Of who?” Eddie screeches before quieting down, peeking into the living room to make sure Uncle Wayne hasn’t stirred. He hasn’t, but Eddie still keeps his voice lowered as he continues hissing into the receiver. “Of Harrington? Don’t be absurd.”

Gareth laughs, “I don’t know, man, but this whole thing is just getting weird.”

“I know, right? What are they up to?” Eddie asks, ignoring Gareth’s muttered “not what I meant,” like he hadn’t said anything at all.

He never figures it out because Buckley never comes around—not to band practice, or Hellfire, or any of the other times Chrissy and Eddie (and Harrington) are in the same place. Eddie should be relieved. He’s not.

Everything is spiraling out of his control.

But, the letters keep coming, and Eddie keeps devouring them

  Eddie —

  I really liked your tabletop speech this week, even though you made fun of the jocks. Some of them definitely deserve it. Do you hate all of them, or just the bullies?

  You laughed, but it wasn’t your real laugh like when Mr. Danver accidentally said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’. I love your laugh, I thought about it all day. Kind of like when your favorite song gets stuck in your head.

  I know I’ve said it before, but I do really like you. But, if you knew me, I don’t think you’d like me. It’s okay, though. I’m stupid like that—always putting my whole heart into people who don’t feel the same.

  I’m sorry, this is probably not the letter you hoped to get. I’ll be better next time, promise.

  Yours,

  Your Secret Admirer

  P.S. Put your response in the World Atlas, the long one that they have to put sideways on the bookshelf (because no matter where you are, I’ll always think of you).

They all make something flutter within him like his lungs are growing wings and flapping themselves out of his body entirely. Even as it leaves him breathless and aching, he wants more of it, longs for it.

It’s just—she sounds so sad, lately, like she’s losing hope in this at all.

All Eddie wants to do is reassure her. So, he keeps writing back, pulling his heart off his sleeve and flinging it down on the page for Chrissy to read, hoping he’ll somehow see those same feelings reflected in her eyes.

He never does.

So, he pokes; he wheedles; he pines for a girl on a page that never quite stands before him. And he pours it all onto the page.

  Secret Admirer,

  I don’t think it’s all jocks—you’re too nice for that. But even you have to admit that a lot of the jocks are only doing it to be at the top of the food chain. Guys like Carver and Harrington Hagaon? They don’t even care about sports, they just want peons to fawn over them. But, there’s people like you, too, so maybe more of them are better than I expect.

  I can’t imagine knowing who you are and not liking you. You’re the nicest girl I know. You don’t have to tell me who you are, but if you do? I promise, it’ll all be okay.

  Yours, always,

  Eddie

  P.S. You don’t have to “be better,” baby. I just want you to be you. That will always be enough for a guy like me.

It’s not enough—something is breaking open in him that words on the page can’t quite mend.

“I’m going to ask her out,” Eddie says once Harrington and Chrissy have left the latest Hellfire session, still inexplicably coming despite never playing.

Jeff chokes on his sip of soda, coughing harshly enough that some of it comes out of his mouth and splatters onto the table.

“Gross, dude,” Doug says, but still pats his back like he’s burping a baby.

“Are you serious?” Gareth asks, tone disbelieving.

Eddie makes crazy eyes at him, trying to psychically beam all his thoughts into Gareth’s head like, yes I’m serious, and, you know about the notes, why are you looking at me like that, and, what the hell else am I supposed to do to crack this mystery wide open?

“That is such a bad idea,” Jeff cuts in once he’s got his coughing under wraps.

Eddie whips towards him, scowling at his best friend as he replies, “you’re just jealous.”

Jeff sighs, heaves himself out of his chair, says a quick, “whatever, dude,” and walks out of the room without a backward glance.

“Aren’t you his ride?” Doug asks.

Eddie flaps his hand in dismissal and replies, “forget about him,” despite his gut sinking down into his boots at Jeff’s words.

“Well, how are you going to do it?” Gareth asks, the only one of his friends to seem even remotely excited.

Eddie keeps flapping his hand and replies, “never you mind.”

That even gets Gareth to scoff, knowing Eddie well enough to know that means he’s got nothing.

But there’s a thought niggling away at his brain: why not finish this thing the same way it had begun?

On his way out the door, he drops his latest letter to Chrissy into the trash bin and doesn’t look back. He’s got a new letter to write.

*** 

“You know this is juvenile, right?” Jeff asks.

Chrissy pulls the world atlas off the shelf with a roll of her eyes.

Her and Steve had fought about him picking up the letters alone, and Chrissy had won the way she always does when it comes to matters of his safety. He’s sulking in the parking lot now, waiting for her to retrieve it for him.

But, there’s no letter behind the cover. She flips through the whole book, then shakes it, pages flapping wildly, to see if anything falls out. Nothing does. No note, at least not yet.

Steve will be disappointed.

“They’re boys, of course it’s juvenile,” Chrissy says, turning away from the shelf to make pointed eye contact.

If boys are stupid, Jeff is the stupidest of them all. She thinks she can see a tinge of red to his dark cheeks that makes her smile. Chrissy turns away to pick up her book bag where she’d left it on the closet table.

“There’s no letter?” Jeff asks, sounding surprised.

Chrissy sighs, responding, “not yet. I’ll have to check back tomorrow.”

Steve will be crushed. He’s been weird about the letters since he’d begun writing the first drafts alone. Even with the minor polishing Chrissy puts on them after, they’re Steve’s words and feelings, no matter what Eddie thinks. And it shows in the way he takes them home and pours over them for days before slinking back to her with the original letter and his response, cheeks rosy as she fixes his spelling errors.

“Eddie’s planning on asking you out, you know,” Jeff says.

There’s a clatter behind one of the shelves, but Chrissy barely notices. “He said that?” she asks, turning sharply toward him, hand still clutching her book bag. 

Jeff nods, lips pursed. God, what are they going to do? This whole thing has spiraled so far out of either of their control. Chrissy had known when she offered that there was a chance Eddie would catch on—that he’d see her leaving a note, or catch her picking one up.

Better her than Steve, she’d thought then. No matter the awkward situation she’s found herself in, she still thinks that, even more so now. Better her than Steve. Steve, who’s proven himself kinder than she ever imagined, who would be run out of town, her ex-boyfriend at the head of the mob.

Chrissy can hear someone shuffling out of sight, feet shuffling on carpet far too close for comfort, so she steps closer to Jeff and lowers her voice. 

“Do you know when?” Chrissy asks, anxiety leaching into her. She needs to talk to Steve. Flirting with Eddie is one thing, but going on a date with him? Going out with him? That’s a whole other monster.

And then, of course, there’s Jeff.

“No, he hasn’t told me anything,” he replies, something small and hurt in his voice.

Chrissy’s never had a best friend, but Steve’s given her a little taste of it, and she’d be hurt if he didn’t tell her something like this.

“He’s probably embarrassed,” Chrissy says, aching to reach out and touch, but they’re in public, and Jason could be lurking behind any corner; the last thing she wants is to put a target on another person she cares about’s back. “You’re still his best friend.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he sighs, but when she bumps their shoulders together gently, his lips quirk up.

He smiles over at her, bumping their shoulders together himself as he asks, “drive me home?” as if it isn’t a foregone conclusion. “And stay for dinner?”

That gives her pause. She can feel her cheeks flushing. Despite taking the next step in their relationship, Jeff’s never invited her in, not where his parents and brother are. They haven’t even really discussed what they are, not with this whole secret admirer thing hanging over their heads like the Sword of Damocles.

But she wants to. She wants to hold his hand in the halls, go to his house for study dates and dinner, kiss him somewhere where they don’t have to be furtive.

It’s all stolen moments with Jeff, kisses and conversations made in haste when all she wants to do is linger. So, she says, “yes, please,” and bounces out into the parking lot.

Steve isn’t there, and neither is his car.

“Maybe he went home?” Jeff asks, but he looks just as unsure as she feels.

“We’ll call him when we get to your house,” she asserts. She’s relieved when all he does is nod and follow her to her car. 

She’s got a best friend to find.

*** 

Robin knows something’s gone wrong as soon as she sees that dangerous gleam in Carver’s eyes. She knows whatever it is, it’s about to go catastrophically wrong when she follows his line of sight to where Eddie stands chatting away with one of his friends.

Still, she stands frozen, watching in breathless horror as Eddie waves goodbye to his friend, that familiar happy grin on his face as he slides into the driver’s seat of his van. Heavy music blares from the rolled-down window as his van sputters to noisy life.

When she turns back to get her eyes on Carver, he’s gone. She spots him only as Eddie peels out of the parking lot, Carver’s douchey car hot on his heels.

Robin turns and runs back into the school. She’d spotted another douchey car still loitering in the parking lot; Steve’s in here somewhere.

She checks the library first, knows from previous confessions that it’s where he and Chrissy work on most of the secret admirer notes. It’s deserted aside from a scattering of freshmen in one corner, and Nancy Wheeler arguing with the librarian about a text the library doesn’t seem to have.

She finds herself in the gym next, unsure if any sports are currently in season, but nice guy or not, Steve’s got jock sensibilities. He likes the gym. There’s a singular kid shooting baskets, but based on the rack of balls off to the side, there might have been more.

She goes to the boy’s locker room without thinking, pushing the swinging door open with sweaty palms and shaking arms.

Inside, she finds boys, all blessedly dressed.

“Ohhh!” they call juvenilely as she stands there, shocked as four pairs of eyes lock on her.

“Girl in the locker room!” someone calls; she’s pretty sure that’s Tommy Hagan’s smug voice, but she barely notices, too caught up in trying to find her boy in the mess of bodies.

“Steve,” Robin strangles out.

Her skin feels tacky with panic sweat, and in the past five minutes of searching, she’s run her fingers through her own hair enough times to leave it sticking on end. She’s sure she looks more like a troll doll than an enticing member of the opposite sex.

“He already left,” a guy she doesn’t recognize responds, eying her up and down. “But I’d be more than happy to help you out.”

As if his meaning wasn’t already clear, he bites his lip and swipes his lip like he’s wiping up drool as all the other boys start “ooooh”ing in unison again. Is that something they’re taught in elementary, or something?

She doesn’t wait for them to continue, just turns and runs out of the locker room, panic nipping at her heels.

She runs back out to the parking lot, out of places to check and desperate to not miss Steve leaving.

That’s where she finds him, leaning casually against his car like Eddie’s life isn’t at stake.

She runs so fast, limbs uncoordinated and breaths coming rapid, that she doesn’t stop in time and hit’s Steve straight in the chest. 

She bounces off, almost falling to the pavement until he grabs her shoulders and steadies her. Steve’s hands feel big on her shoulders, the pressure of his palms pushing her soul back into her body as she takes big, deep gulps.

“What’s wrong, Bobby?” he asks, already looking at her like she’s a wet puppy he’s ready to scoop into his arms and dry off with the shirt on his own back.

There’s too many witnesses, and too many damning words to be said, so all she whispers is, “you need to go, Steve.”

He wrinkles his nose, but something of the gravity of her words must sink in because he leans in without hesitation and meets her pitch as he asks, “where?”

Robin steps even closer, damn-near standing on Steve’s toes as she begins her stilted explanation.

“Jason Carver followed Eddie’s van in his car,” Robin starts, words blurring into each other in her haste to get them out. “I don’t know what he’s planning, but—“

She doesn’t get to finish; Steve bolts to the driver's side door and flings himself into his car without sparing her a second thought.  She can’t blame him.

Robin only hopes he makes it in time.

PART 12

[ninzied]

green things

alex kisses henry to make another guy jealous. that’s it. no other reason. based on a prompt for @onthewaytosomewhere. modern au. 1.9k.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Pez remarks, halfway through one of the worst house parties Alex has been to in his life. Seriously; he’s been to so many, and none of the others even compare. “Something on your mind?”

Yes. “No.” Alex takes a sip of his drink and goes casually back to not looking at Henry.

He’s kind of not really been okay-totally-watching-them all night, and it’s fine. It’s fine, because it doesn’t matter who Henry talks to, what matters is that he looks happy, and animated, and hasn’t stopped smiling.

He hasn’t stopped smiling all night.

“Hey, so, who’s the guy?” Alex asks.

Pez glances over. “Ah—yes, that’s a visiting prof in Henry’s department. Hazza talks about him quite a lot, actually.”

Alex grits his teeth so hard he’s surprised that none of them crack. “Does he.” He refrains from adding under his breath, Well, I’ve never heard of him.

“All the time, as a matter of fact,” Pez continues. He doesn’t even sound like he’s had to exaggerate. “And with good reason. It’s not even that he’s easy on the eyes, though there is that too. He’s already accomplished so much in the field despite being our age, from what I understand.”

“I see,” Alex says as neutrally as possible. He’s starting to see a lot from where he’s standing, actually, and he doesn’t like it. Like, at all.

Pez raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. “Do I spy something green?”

“No,” Alex says quickly, too quickly this time. “Nope. Definitely not.”

“Well, if you say so.” Pez pops an hors d’oeuvre in his mouth and chews, surveying the room like it’s his own private theatre. Like he’s waiting for something. Like he has a vision. It’s both impressive and disconcerting to see.

As if on cue, someone comes up to Mister Accomplished and claps a hand on his stupid-broad shoulder, drawing his attention away. He flashes Henry a grin—one that’s way too white and with too many teeth, in Alex’s opinion—before walking off and leaving Henry alone in the corner.

Henry, who’s no longer smiling as he closes his eyes and sags at the shoulders. He tilts his glass back and drinks.

Well, fuck. Alex can’t even be glad anymore that the guy has just left because now he wants to punch him for it.

“Douchebag much?” he mutters under his breath.

“Oh, most excellent,” Pez is saying at the same time. “Couldn’t have planned the thing better myself.” He clears his throat, all business-like all of a sudden. “It appears that our poppet is in need of assistance. Are you up to the task, Alexander?”

“Wait.” But Alex finds himself getting pulled along by the sheer force of Pez’s will before he’s even finished speaking. “What task, exactly?”

Pez looks two seconds away from rubbing his hands together like some kind of cartoon villain. “Nothing like making a man jealous to finally spur him into action.”

Alex sputters; didn’t he just say that he wasn’t—? But then he catches the pointed look Pez gives Mister Accomplished again. Oh. That guy. Then: “Wait, that guy?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it,” says Pez.

Alex makes a wild gesture. “You want me to make that guy jealous. Fucking how?”

Pez lets out a long-suffering sigh. “The fact that I must spell it out for you really does explain a lot, actually.”

“A lot about what?”

“One kiss ought to do it, I think,” Pez muses, almost to himself.

Alex swallows. Flirting with Henry every day like he does is one thing. Harmless, mostly, unless you count feeling heartsick that Henry never looks at him the same way.

What Pez is suggesting, though, may be the thing that tips Alex fully over into heartbreak territory.

“I don’t, um.” He clears his throat and glances toward Henry, who’s gazing into his now-empty glass. “What makes you think he’ll be down with this plan?”

“Absolutely nothing, he would never. Which is why we must be quick about it.”

“But,” Alex starts to protest.

“Alex.” Pez says his name like he’s scolding a child who’s being too selfish. “Don’t you want to see Henry happy?”

“More than anything,” says Alex, too honestly. Fuck.

“Then trust me on this,” says Pez, in the voice of a person who’s not to be trusted at all, before opening his arms wide and beaming. “Hazza, darling.”

“Oh, thank God,” says Henry, glancing up as they approach. “I need another one of whatever this was.”

“I have a better idea,” Pez sing-songs, then looks askance at Alex. “Unless, of course, someone’s getting cold feet. I can always ask if dear old Hunter’s available, I think I saw him by the—”

“No, I’ll do it,” Alex says instantly. “I’ll take one for the team.”

“Yes, a big sacrifice on your part,” Pez murmurs, and Alex shoots him a sharp little glare. Henry scrunches his brow, looking between the two of them in something like concerned confusion.

“Alex? What’s going on?” he prompts carefully as Alex marches up to him, taking a breath. He’s determined to do this for Henry, no matter the cost to himself.

“All right. I’m ready,” Alex says solemnly. “Lay it on me, Fox.”

“Sorry,” says Henry, “I still have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“Babe,” and Alex takes Henry’s face in his hands, “Don’t even worry. I’m here to make all your dreams come true.”

Henry stands frozen as Alex presses their mouths firmly together. There’s a second that lasts half a lifetime in which Alex thinks he’s made a terrible mistake.

And then Henry’s lips soften—wow, fuck, they are really soft, actually—and then he’s kissing Alex back and so hard that Alex stagger-steps, almost knocking a chair over as he pulls Henry even closer.

He tries not to totally lose it when he feels Henry’s fingers thread through his hair, or the hitch in Henry’s breath when their lips part and their tongues meet.

It occurs to him that they probably shouldn’t be kissing like this while surrounded by all their work colleagues. Alex doesn’t really care. All he cares about is how devastated he’ll be once it’s over.

Henry is the first to pull back. He’s breathless and smiling, and Alex’s heart hurts like fucking hell but this is what he wanted, right? To see Henry this happy?

Alex puts his hands on Henry’s waist, which, fuck, he shouldn’t have done that; now he thinks he might never let go. His breath comes up short as he gasps into the space between them, “Is he watching?”

Henry blinks. His smile falters a little. “Is who watching, Alex?”

“The guy you were talking to. I was trying to make him jealous.” Alex can’t bring himself to see if he’s noticed. Alex thinks he would rather die than look away from Henry right now. All he wants is to kiss him again even though he probably shouldn’t. “Do you think it worked? Henry?”

Henry has gone very still in his arms. The expression on his face is glazed over, distant. “That’s why you kissed me? To make someone jealous?”

Fuck, they really should’ve talked about this first. Fuck. “Yeah?” Alex winces.

“That man specifically? I didn’t even know you two were acquainted.” Henry heaves out a breath, looking strangely like he might be sick. “So you—you like him, then?”

“What? No, of course I don’t like him. I don’t even know him,” says Alex. Henry isn’t making any sense. “I thought you liked him.” Unless…shit. Unless Henry just doesn’t want them both liking the same guy?

Henry just stares at him for a long time. He’s looking kind of like Alex is the one who’s lost it. “You what?” Henry says finally.

“I thought you liked him,” Alex repeats, but this time it comes out as more of a question.

“You thought I liked him,” Henry says for emphasis. “That man.” Like there’s some other guy Alex could possibly be talking about right now.

“Apparently,” says Alex. He realizes he’s clutched the sides of Henry’s shirt and wills his fingers to loosen a little. It feels like some kind of miracle that Henry hasn’t shoved him away yet. “And then you looked so sad when he went to talk to other people, and I thought, I don’t know, that I’d help? Pez said you talk about him all the time, so…” Wait. Wait a minute.

Henry breathes out. Something solidifies in his expression, like he’s just worked through a math problem of his own. “Hmm,” he says in a weirdly calm tone. “Did he, now.”

“Yeah,” Alex says slowly. “He…” What else was it that Pez had said? Nothing like making a man jealous to finally…

Wow. Okay. Well-played, Okonjo.

“I see.” Henry looks pointedly around for Pez, who’s conveniently nowhere in sight at the moment. “Percy didn’t also happen to mention the fact that the man’s an absolute bellend who’s been gatekeeping my department’s research funding? That I’m thus woefully obligated to kiss the ground he walks on at parties?”

Ah. “He…did not,” Alex allows. “So, just to be clear, you don’t? Like him?”

“Christ, no,” Henry says firmly, and Alex feels something light in his chest flutter and try to take flight.

“Anyway,” Henry goes on, looking all sober now for some reason, “I ought to apologize on Pez’s behalf. He really was only trying to help, in his way. He knows how I feel about—well.” He flushes. “And I’m sorry, too, for kissing you like that. I was under a very different impression as to what it, um. Actually meant.”

“Yeah, hold up.” Alex straightens. “You kissed me back.” Henry looks cautiously on as Alex starts smiling and can’t seem to stop. “You had no idea and you still kissed me back.”

Henry goes a shade pinker each time Alex says the words. “Yes, well,” Henry says faintly. “I believe what you said was something about making all my dreams come true? Which I did take at face value.”

Alex tightens his hold on Henry again. Definitely not letting him go after that. “Henry,” he says. “You’re my fucking dream, are you kidding?”

“I—” Henry gazes at him. His smile is soft with something like wonder. “You’re serious?”

“How do you think Pez got to me?” Alex wants to know. “Do you have any idea how jealous I was of that guy when I thought you were into him?”

“Mm.” Henry tilts his head. “Yet you kissed me fully believing that it would, what, drive him so mad that he’d throw himself into my arms?”

“I did.” Alex takes both of Henry’s hands into his. “I want you. Henry. But I think I want you so much that the only thing I want more is for you to be happy.”

Henry’s eyes are bright and so very, very blue. “And if I told you that they’re one and the same?”

Alex is smiling so hard that it hurts. He never wants to stop feeling like this. “Then I guess that guy can be jealous all he wants,” Alex shrugs, bringing Henry’s hands up to his shoulders. “Because he can’t have your arms now, they’re mine.”

“Noted,” says Henry, mock-seriously. “Anything else you wish to claim while you’re at it?”

“Actually,” says Alex, “yeah, just so we’re clear,” and he pulls Henry back in for a kiss.

[poppy-metal]

Need to tease father mayhew by giving him the softest sweetest love making vanilla sex to ever exist when I know he just wants a rough fuck and maybe some fingers up his ass. I want him screaming internally about how he’s sinning for this? Seriously? Decides to lust for the flesh and all he gets is a tight pussy around his cock and some kisses? I want to know how long it would take him to break. How long I can kiss him before he bites and throws me around and properly fuck. How long before he draws blood…

GODDDDD him going from being submissive and whiney and begging for it to breaking and turning into an animal that just needs to fuck and fuck and fuck. need to lick and lap at his balls until his chest is heaving up and down and he's all flushed but he can't drag your head where he wants it because his hands are tied. cock straining and throbbing against his stomach. and the thing is you want it in your mouth so much your mouth is watering, you want it in your cunt, in your ass, but teasing him is so fun - hearing his desperate whimpers, seeing the tears in his eyes, hearing him say prayers under his breath all while refusing to lower your mouth around his stiff throbbing length. you may let your tongue venture back to the tight pucker of his asshole just to be cruel and make his whole body jerk. pulling back and nuzzling your cheek against his thigh as you look up at him with wide innocent eyes, "you're so desperate to indulge in the sins of the flesh, father." licking your lips, drawing his attention to the soft wet pout of your mouth - tempting him with the softness of it - "you should give in." dragging your nails up his thick hairy legs, up to his smooth chest, pluck at his nipples like he's your instrument. "give in so you have something to confess later."

he breaks the ties binding him to the bed post as easy as if they were made of wet paper. one hand fisting the hair to the back of your skull and yanking you up his toned body like a ragdoll. your glee is only stifled by the gasp that leaves your throat when his other hand wraps around delicate neck.

you're a succubus, he tells you through clenched teeth as he turns you over so you're under him and helpless. yanks your legs apart wide. you've been a very bad girl - the worst kind of sinner - a whore - he'll have to punish you with his body. fuck the devil out of you that pants and lusts to twist and torment his soul. he'll have to pound you hard enough that you beg for forgiveness and tell him you'll let him inside, all his light and love, you'll take it all inside your warm tight cunt. <3

[holybibly]

I will be sharing my thoughts with you during a week filled with hard hours. 

We always talk about how jealous and possessive Hongjoong is, but darlings, I am going to share with you three of the most toxic and jealous bombshells, in my opinion. 

San is an absolute gentleman, a whole bloody "forest,"  not your ordinary green flag. But behind this perfect facade, there is a monster that he hides very well. San is clingy and possessive to the point of impossibility; you call Wooyoung clingy. Hold my champagne; San is a million times worse than him. At first, it's easy; you'd never notice how smoothly and exquisitely he begins to brainwash you. 

"Let's stay at home, Chagi, just the two of us."

"I can take care of you, I don't think you need to go to work."

"I love the time we spend together, I never want to let you go."

"I'm so in love with you."

Step by step, he draws you into a trap and completely monopolizes your attention. It's just you and him. The sex has always been so amazing. In the beginning, San would be so careful and gentle, so attentive. The more your relationship develops, the more violent he becomes. He treats you possessively and roughly, literally fucking you into oblivion. 

"You belong only to me."

"I own that fucking pussy."

"No one will ever be able to fuck you like me."

But worst of all, you believe him. You believe every word he says. You quit your job. You wait for him at home, obedient and beautiful, in his soft sweatshirts, smelling of his perfume, covered with the marks of his passionate kisses and bites. And yes, San does bite to the point of blood and bruises. 

Everyone around him thinks he's such a nice guy, but look closely. There's a darkness in those feline eyes, and if you look long enough, you'll see it. But be careful. You might just get his full attention.

Seonghwa is handsome. He is too handsome for his own good, and he uses it all the time. A real prince who will win your heart is polite, attentive, a real dream boy. 

It's hard for you to believe that someone like him could love a simple and ordinary girl like you; you don't think of yourself as ugly. Just ordinary, there are millions like you, but Seonghwa. Seonghwa is one-of-a-kind.

When you start dating, he keeps saying how lucky he is to have you. How happy he is that he has found someone so special. And he means it. Just not the way you think he means it.

For him, you're an endless source of self-gratification. He'll do anything to get you to praise him, to talk about how beautiful he is, how talented he is, how damned perfect he is. Once Seonghwa realises you're head over heels in love with him, you'll never run away again and your sweet boyfriend will become a real demon.

You have your attention on someone else, he'll fuck you in front of the mirror as punishment, constantly taunting, mocking and humiliating, so you can have a look at his gorgeous face in the reflection while he's doing this.

"You are so worthless, you should be fucking grateful to have such a gorgeous guy like me in your life. Or do you have the idea that anyone else could have a pickup a bitch like you?"

"You pathetic whore, look who's fucking you.

"Aren't I enough for you? Look into my eyes while I pulling you down on my dick."

He will destroy everything you've ever dreamed of, and everything you love, until there is nothing left in your head but him. Glorify him, glorify him incessantly, talk about how wonderful he is, and Seonghwa will give you heaven. "Because you're so beautiful" should accompany every "I love you". Every "thank you" should be followed by: "Because I have you, how could I want more?"

You're just going to stop being aware of the whole world outside of Seonghwa. That's why, my dear, you should be careful when you give a compliment to someone. You might just find yourself one-to-one with a demonic hunger of a gentle prince charming.

Mingi's in love with you. Or rather, he's in love with the idea that he's in love with you. Can't you see that? He's a puppy in love, but on closer inspection, he's more like a hungry wolf on the hunt for his sweet little prey.

The universe's softest boy. Endless hugs, cute nicknames, long kisses and a never-ending stream of words of love. He'll shower you with presents, flowers so many they'll make your flat look like a greenhouse.

"I love to love you, baby."

"Can you feel this, babe? Can you feel how much I am in love with you?" He whispers in your ear. Your whole body trembles at the powerful, rigid thrust of his thighs.

His rhythm is brutal, the bed is pounding against the wall, with such tangible force that the paint on it starts to crack.

He holds you to the bed with one hand, the other tucks his fingers into the soft curve of your thigh, his rings scratching the skin to the point of blood, his nails digging into the flesh, leaving deep blue marks.

"I'm going to love you until I die."

"l will never let you go, babe."

"No one will ever be able to love you as much as I do."

We've all heard that story about wolves wearing sheepskins. So think twice before you fall in love with that shiny puppy look - maybe it's just a clever disguise for a terrifying wolf who's on the prowl.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Spaghetti Squash (The Surprise, Part 12)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, literally so much fluff, just fluff on fluff on fluff, some explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.4k

Summary: As your pregnancy progresses, Emily starts to feel disconnected from the experience, sad that she can't feel what you're feeling. She tries to control what she can, but you help her see that letting go isn't the worst thing in the world.

Week 22: The Spaghetti Squash

“What about that one, Em? It’s pretty.”

You pointed to Emily’s laptop screen, at a nice, oval crib, made of natural wood. Very modern looking. 

“Honey, I don’t care if it’s pretty. I care that it’s safe.”

“Well, I care if it's pretty. Click on it and see!” you badgered her, yawning.

You leaned heavily on Emily’s shoulder, trying hard to keep your eyes open. You’d been scrolling through baby site after baby site for nearly two hours now, checking things off Emily’s ridiculously extensive shopping list. Normally, you’d be interested. The problem was that Emily had to do a solid half hour of research into each and every item.

“Bossy…” Emily mumbled, lifting up her arm so you could snuggle into her chest. She scrolled through the page, looking at all of the crib’s features.

“Look!” You pointed at the screen. “It converts to a toddler bed and a kid bed. So it can grow up with her.”

“And it’s GreenGuard Gold Certified!”

“Wow.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “Adorable.”

“Hey,” she protested, pinching the skin under your arm. You squirmed and giggled. “I’m keeping him safe. You can keep him cute.”

You yawned again, shutting your eyes for a moment and sinking into her.

“Y/N,” Emily cooed, cupping your cheek and rubbing her thumb against it. “Stay awake, baby. You promised we’d get through five things tonight.”

You groaned, noncommittal.

“Y/N,” she prompted again, this time patting your face lightly.

“I didn’t know it was gonna take literal hours…” you grumbled.

“Here,” she said, lifting you up a bit and kissing your cheek. “You can pick what we look for next. Something fun.”

You squinted at her.

Her eyes were huge, and she had that hopeful, pleading half-smile that she knew would get you to do anything. As a final blow, she bit the corner of her lip. Fuck. She was just too irresistible, it wasn’t fair.

“Ugh. Fine.” You stretched and sat up as Emily placed the laptop in your hands.

“What do you want to look for?” she asked, looping her arm around yours and rubbing her thumb against your bare skin. She placed a quick kiss on your shoulder and nuzzled into your neck.

“Crib sheets?” you suggested, perking up. “I found a brand I really like.”

“Are they–”

“Green, gold, whatever-the-fuck certified?”

She blushed a bit. “Yes,” she said softly.

At this rate, you'd spend another hour and a half with Emily deep-diving on crib sheets.

“Emily,” you sighed, turning to look at her. “You are the love of my life and the mother of my child and I love you more than breathing. But for fuck’s sake, you’ve gotta cool it a little bit.”

Her eyes turned a little sad, a little embarrassed.

You continued, a bit softer now. “I know it’s just because you love her and you want to keep her safe. And I know it’s hard for you right now because I’m the one who’s carrying and I can feel her moving and this is the only thing you can control. But, baby, I promise you that a couple of 100% organic cotton crib sheets that might not have that super special certification aren’t gonna kill her.”

Emily was quiet. You turned to hold her face in your hands, tracing her angles, all her lines–you knew them better than you knew your own body. She smiled a little as you brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

“Maybe you should be a profiler,” she chuckled, leaning into you and looking at the website you’d pulled up. “Goddamn.”

“Sorry,” you said, drawing her to your chest and tucking her head under your chin. “That was a little harsh.”

“No, you’re right.” Emily exhaled deeply and nodded. “Alright, let’s see these sheets.”

Your stomach did a little flip, excited to share one of your finds with Emily. So far, she’d picked most of the things, and you’d let her, knowing that the lack of control was hard for her.

“Okay.” You scrolled and clicked on a crib sheet, crisp white and covered with tiny dinosaurs. “I mean, look! It’s got little brontosauruses!”

In a rare show of letting go, Emily squeezed your arm and said, “Add it to the cart.”

“Really!?” you squealed.

“Yeah, of course, honey. It's cute.”

You kept scrolling, but Emily stopped your wrist. “Oh, baby, look at that one! It’s got bananas!”

“Adding it,” you decided with a dramatic click.

After a few more minutes of looking through crib sheets, you’d placed your order and shut the laptop for the evening, proud to have made it through all five of Emily’s predetermined list items. You knew you both needed to go to bed, but you were just so comfy sprawled on the couch. Emily’s head rested on your baby bump, and you carded your fingers through her hair.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so controlling about the shopping,” she whispered out of the blue.

“It’s okay, honey,” you said, softly massaging her head.

“No, it’s not,” she sighed. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t letting you pick anything.”

“Em, I promise it’s okay.”

She didn’t answer, instead running her hands along the side of your belly, as if feeling for something, anything.

“Has he been moving tonight?” she asked, her voice almost sad.

“Mmhm.” You hated to see her sad. You wished so desperately that she could feel what you were feeling. You didn’t want her to feel left out of the pregnancy. You didn’t want her to feel any less the baby’s mom than you were.

“Tell me what it feels like.”

You thought for a moment. “Mm… kind of like butterflies. Or, like, when you’re nervous and your stomach does a flip.”

She was quiet again, and you pulled her face up to your chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head. “It’s gonna be okay, Em. You’re her mom, too.”

“I know,” she mumbled.

“You know, I think the baby can feel you.”

“What?” She lifted her head a bit, looking at you quizzically.

“Maybe you can’t feel her yet, but I bet she can feel you. She can hear you, and I read today that babies feel their mom’s emotions.”

Emily looked up at you, her eyes shining a bit.

“I always feel happy and safe and loved when you’re with me. And that’s what she feels, too. She can hear you and she feels those things when you’re around because I feel them. So she knows you’re here. She can feel you.”

Emily blinked back a few tears and pressed her face to your stomach, planting a few kisses on your baby bump.

“I love you,” she whispered to your stomach, and you thought you might cry, too.

“Can you hear me, little one? I love you. Maman loves you so much.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to cry, trying (and mostly failing) not to let your overwhelming love for this woman turn you into an absolute puddle. For neither the first time nor the last, you were utterly flabbergasted that this was your life. That there was a baby inside you, growing strong and healthy. That the baby would have two moms, something you’d never thought possible when you were growing up, imagining your future. And, best of all, that you had Emily. Sweet, strong, beautiful Emily. Who loved you so well. Who made you so happy you sometimes thought you'd explode with it. How did you get so lucky? How was it that, despite it all, despite all the tragedies, big and small, along the way, you’d somehow stumbled into a life so good that it was, quite literally, beyond your wildest dreams?

“I love you, Em,” you blurted out, unable to stop yourself or stop the tears from brimming in your eyes.

She looked up at you, and you could tell she was happy, truly happy. And if you could do nothing else in your entire life except make this woman happy, you’d die satisfied.

She sat up a bit, pulling on the collar of your shirt to draw you into a kiss. A soft kiss, one that you melted into, one that reminded you of your very first. All butterflies and excitement for what was to come.

“I love you, too,” she said, pressing her forehead to yours. “So much.”

[withahappyrefrain]

thinking about the first time you get to deepthroat older bf bob. he’s been training you to deepthroat toys, he wants you to be ready before he gives you the real thing. even when you beg for it and give him your best puppy eyes, he won’t let you have it. when he finally decides you’re ready…oh god. he’s in control the entire time, your hair wrapped in his fist so he can gently tug you off of him if he needs to. and the praise he gives you? it’s out of this world. such an encouraging daddy who’s so proud to see his baby take him fully down their throat.

@lewmagoo i cannot stress enough how beautiful your mind is

The first time you try to go down on him is the first time he demonstrates his strength. He's so lost in the pleasure laced haze, all from the sight of you looking up at him after getting on your knees. After all, he made you see stars just from his mouth, a feat you didn't think possible, and shouldn't you return the favor?

He's much bigger than you anticipated and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't intimidating. You start with kitten licks from the base to the tip, tongue swirling around his leaking slit.

"Fuck, sweet girl," Bob groans, hands clumsily trying to find your shoulders, "S-sweet girl-wait."

You think he's just really turned on, so you continue. It isn't until your mouth begins to sink down on his cock that Bob sits up, one hand quickly grabbing your shoulder and the other one your hair.

"No," His voice is firm as he pulls you away from his cock, "You're not ready yet."

It's the hottest thing because as much as he wants you, wants to feel you gag on his cock, he doesn't want you to hurt yourself in the name of trying to please him.

He starts you off with smaller toys, because the truth is you're not the most experienced. Bob is a great teacher, making sure you go easy on yourself.

"That's it baby, just a little more," He coos as you work your mouth onto the new dildo he got for your training. It's closer to his size, a fact that makes your thighs clench.

"There ya go, look at you!" He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek, a sharp contrast to what he was encouraging you to do, "Didn't even gag, so proud of you."

You look at him with wide eyes, breath panting as you beg, "Can I try on you? Please?"

Bob just chuckles as he shakes his head, "Not ready yet. Like I said, I'll let ya know."

You know he will and that's the worst part because you so badly want to feel him, feel his cock in your mouth, feel all of him.

When you do go down on Bobby, he's very diligent, taking note of how you're doing, his hands guiding you. You don't sink your mouth lower on your cock unless he lets you.

"Sweet girl," he scolds, "What did I say?"

You look up at him, your eyes and pout causing you to resemble a brokenhearted puppy, "Please Bobby? I can do it!"

If your begging has any affect on him, he doesn't show it. He's steadfast, shaking his head as he guides you away from his cock, not wanting to overwork your pretty little throat.

"Bobby," your special nickname for him comes out in the form of a desperate whine. You're overcome with desire, with the need to make him feel just as good.

"I said no," His tone is sharper, he's immoveable, "But since you did so well, why don't you let Daddy give you a reward?"

It's absolutely a distraction, but it absolutely works.

He can't lie, it gets him so hard watching you practice on the toys he buys. You're so diligent, following his advice to a tee. Instead of being overeager and diving straight in, you now know to draw it out, to alternate between kitten licks and deeper thrusts.

"God, soon you'll be ready for the real thing," He whispers in your ear as you continue to work your mouth on the latest toy he's gotten you. Out of all the toys, this one is the closest to his size. He has you in his lap, guiding you through your 'session'.

"Can't wait, gonna feel so good to have your mouth on me." Bob can't help but chuckle when he feels your thighs clenching. Curious, his fingers trail underneath your skirt, finding the fabric of your panties wet.

Just as he suspected.

"Does that turn you on?" His voice is as smooth like the bourbon he keeps in his bar, breath hot on the shell of your ear.

"Uh-huh," you nod, squirming when his long fingers push the flimsy fabric to the side, sliding through your soaked folds. His experience from being in the Navy (now retired) shows, quickly able to find your clit and begin drawing circles that make you see stars.

A harsh slap to your bare thigh breaks you from your thoughts, a confused whimper falling from your lips.

"Who said you could stop practicing?" It's then you realize your lips are no longer wrapped around the plastic dildo.

"Keep goin'. Don't you wanna be good enough to take all of Daddy's cock?" His fingers have found your soaked entrance, having gone from teasing your slit to thrusting in and out, causing your body to revel in the unexpected but pleasurable stretch.

You obey. Sweet girls obey and you're his sweet girl after all.

But when the day finally comes and Bob thinks you're ready? You can barely contain your excitement, quickly sinking down to your knees, the plush carpet welcoming.

"Remember what Daddy taught you," he uses his nimble fingers to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look into his cornflower eyes.

"It's a marathon, not a race," you repeat his mantra, earning a proud smile from Bob.

"That's right. And if you need a break, how do you tell Daddy?"

A hand trails to his knee, "Squeeze your knee twice. Safe word is rodeo."

Bob leans over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, "That's exactly right. You ready for Daddy's cock?"

You nod eagerly, eyes remaining on the bulge that you can see through his pants. It was cute, the way you were practically salivating as Bob unzipped his pants, slowly taking out his hard, heavy cock.

Despite being quite accustomed to Bob's body, the sight still took your breath away. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, of course his cock would be pretty. Velvety smooth, curved slightly to the right with a plush head. It takes everything ounce of self control not to dive right in.

But that's not what Daddy taught you.

You start at the base, switching between kitten licks and soft kisses, working your way up to the head of his cock. Testing the waters, you wrap a hand around the base of his cock, enabling you to guide it into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, only a few inches.

"That's it, just like that. Remember, breath through your nose sweet girl," He praises. Bob's words sends warmth throughout your body, the corners of your lips turning upright as you noticed your throat wasn't restricting like it had in the beginning.

Bob's blue eyes are set on you, mesmerized by the way your pretty mouth eagerly welcomes his cock. Your tongue feels like heaven against his slit, trailing down his cock. He's breathing heavily through his nose, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he fights the urge to tilt his head back from the pleasure you've providing.

"That's- fuck- that's it. Just like that." You sink lower, feeling his cock going towards the back of your throat. With his hands cupping the back of your neck, his thumbs resting underneath your jawline, Bob's able to dictate the speed and depth you go. You don't fight it when he pulls you back an inch or two, taking it as a sign to breath.

"Doin' so well f'me, sweet girl." Your toes can't help but curl at hearing Bob's rural accent come out. It only happened in two scenarios: when he was back home and when you were pleasing him, making him far too focused on the pleasure to even care about sounding 'neutral'.

"Kay, Daddy's going to bring you down just a little more. Alright?" You nodded fervently, longing to show him you were finally ready for him, for all of him.

It took everything in Bob not to thrust his hips forward. You were so close and he could feel your throat constrict, trying to accommodate him. He almost considered pulling you back, but then you moaned and he just couldn't help it, his hips tilting up ever so slightly. Another moan fell from your lips, vibrating against his cock.

"Sweet girl," he groaned, tightening his grip, "Doing s' fuckin' good f'me. Pretty little mouth was made f'me, y'know that?"

You try to nod, your hands gripping the fabric of his pants. Bob stills, waiting for you to show signs that you need a break. Instead, you lean forward, slowly taking more and more of him in your mouth, until finally your nose felt the coarse hair that nestled at the base of his cock.

Feeling him all the way in the your throat, combined with the lack of oxygen, made your thighs nearly shake. Bob's hands guided your mouth up and down on his cock, delighting in the muffled whimpers that continued to fall from your lips.

"There ya go. So worried it wouldn't fit, but just look at ya. Doing s'well, that's it, just like I taught ya." He's trying so hard to be a gentleman, to not pull you down to the base too hard, or thrust into you harshly. But God, is it difficult, the sight of you taking all of his cock the most erotic sight he had ever seen. His hips jerk erratically, his voice quivering as he talks you through it.

"Fuck, sweet girl. That's it, yeah, keep goin'. So fuckin' proud of ya, God, so fuckin lucky I get to call you mine.

His last word comes out as a groan, transitioning from coherent sentences to heavy, almost animalistic grunts as he comes.

Your eyes dart up and the sight above you is prettier than any painting you have ever seen. Strands of his greying hair falling over his forehead, his once cobalt eyes now nearly black with lust, his thin, pink lips parted as the sweetest sounds continue to escape.

The burning desire between your legs could no longer be ignored. With one hand still at the base of his cock, pumping his length, your other hand dips below your sundress. You had never been so thankful to forgo panties.

Bob notices right away, how you close your eyes and nearly sigh in relief, rocking your hips down onto your hand. His guidance has decreased as he gets closer to that pleasurable edge; not that you need his help. You eagerly took his cock, giving your throat time to adjust before diving deeper.

Just like you two had practiced.

So good, he didn't need to guide you. But that didn't stop Bob from trying to gather as much strength as possible so he could continue singing your praises.

"Shit, taking Daddy's cock got ya s'wet, didn't it? Can hear it God. Keep goin' just like that. Gonna marry ya one day, fuck, gotta get you a nice pretty ring- baby."

The last word came out in the form of a deep groan. Bob's hips jerked erratically as he came down your throat, giving you no time to process his words.

Just like you two had discussed beforehand, you eagerly took all of him, reveling in how good he tasted, how hot it was to see him so unkempt, so lost in pleasure.

You thought maybe you two could discuss his little admission after his breathing had steadied, but Bob had other plans for you.

"Get on the bed." His voice was firm, sharp. A far cry from the gentle, deep voice he uses with you. It made you wonder if that was the voice he used when he was on active duty, giving commands to the lower ranks.

His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up.

"What did Daddy just say? C'mon sweet girl, it's time for your reward for making Daddy feel so good."

You two could talk later.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮  tags ; afab!reader, pegging, dacryphilia, sub!sakura, mildly sadistic dom!reader, lots of dirty talk, 18+

It's too easy to make him cry, you think.

Sakura puts his hands in front of him as you fuck him on his back. You don't have the heart to tell him you've only gotten him half-way down onto your strap. With the way his eyes are blown out so wide, and the desperation he's pushing you away with - you somehow feel that'd be a little cruel.

"Does it hurt, Haru?"

He's spaced out as you ask him this. You let your free hand cup his face, watching his expression with warmth. Fondness bleeds into your gaze as you draw your thumb along his bottom lip, watching it tremble so helplessly. A new wave of shame has him curling in on himself - pulling away from you again.

So cute. So pathetic, and so terribly cute.

"Feels weird, feels so weird," He's stuttering when he says it. You thrust slightly, intentional, laughing as he gasps and lets his back arch slightly. "S-stop, don't move, don't."

"But it doesn't hurt, right?"

He shakes his head. You think it'd be odd if it did, considering all the time you've spent working him open to do this very thing. Despite Sakura's many protests and fits of shame, he always gives into your requests sooner rather than later.

It's a mix of inexperience and a natural knack for submission. Always blushing, doe-eyed, emotional. He's well suited to be pressed under your thumb and he plays the part better than most. Past relationships don't hold a candle to your Haruka. There's no performance when you dominate Sakura, no sense he's trying to appease you.

Not that you mind that kind of play either. But Sakura is a diamond in the rough. A natural born, gifted crybaby. Bullying him comes naturally and he always exceeds your expectation. Like something straight out of your worst, most perverted fantasies.

"No, but," He hiccups a little and he's still pushing you away. Impatient, you grasp his hands at his wrists and blink down at him. "It's weird, it's weird. I'm gonna become weird. I'm scared,"

You shiver. Try not to scare him off by letting him show how turned on you are by his distress. "It's not weird. If it doesn't hurt then that means you're feeling good right?"

"I'm not," He whines. He's out of it, you realize. Really truly, if he's allowing himself to act so embarrassing. Your lips twitch. "I'm not, it's—"

The complaints fall on deaf ears as you roll your hips and push into Sakura further. Deeper, both hands gripping on his waist and admiring him as you sink into his tight hole. He gasps again, nipples hardening in response to the arousal and cock drooling, as his throat closes around a moan. "It's okay if it feels good. It's normal. Guys have something inside them that lets them cum like this,"

He covers his face with his hands. Red down to his chest, he can barely managed to look at you. His hair is all messy too. It's hard not to lose control. If you pinned him up by his knees and fucked him now, you'd scare him too much for sure.

"I'm scared, I'm scared." He's trembling. You feel yourself get wet watching him. You draw a circle in his hips with your thumb, pulling his hands away as you lean down. Your foreheads touch. His skin is sticky from the sweat and his face is wet with tears.

"I wouldn't do anything bad to Haru-chan, right?" You mumble, trying to reason with him. "I only do things that feel good.

He frowns as he nods.

"Right. So don't be scared. Tell me where it feels good,"

"H-huh?"

You thrust yourself all the way in one last go. One last time, just to bottom out. Sakura's reaction is immediate. His stomach clenches, cock twitching hard - tip weepy red and pathetic, dribbling onto his stomach in a constant stress less than a spurt. You kiss his shoulder as you go deep. Using your hips to pin him under your weight, you push until it's all the way in and angle your thrusts up.

His voice shakes in your ear and you smile to yourself at the reaction. Nails digging into your arms, you can feel him underneath your weight. Feel his length pressed between your squished bodies, feel him tremble so violently. He likes it deeper than you thought he would.

"It's there, huh?" You hum, tender and faux-sympathetic. "It feels good deep inside for you."

"It's too much," His voice is so high. You've never heard it so pitchy, so broken in your life. "Won't stop just... feels... ngghh, please."

He does one violent shudder as you grind yourself deep into him, the indents of his nails certainly drawing blood with how hard he holds onto you. He's begging you please, but you're not sure what he's asking you for. You doubt he knows either.

You pull back to look at him. His eyes are wide in confusion, lips bitten red.

"Nothings coming out. I came but,"

Ah. You really want to break him. "You came from the inside. From having me inside of you. It felt that good, huh?"

"Idiot," His voice is watery.

"It's fine, it's fine," You whisper. "I'll take responsibility for it, so it's okay. Do you want me to make you cum more?"

You pull away to look at him. He's pissed. You're sure he'll complain to you later for making fun of him but he's too turned on for now to do it. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you smile at him and encourage him to answer.

"I hate you so much," He says. You feel wet drops of tears on your skin as he clings to you. "Just move already,"

He's cute when he's spoiled. You're really going to have to break him next time or you don't think you'll be satisfied. "Anything for my Haruka,"

[kasper-tag]

(Click the image for higher quality!)

Hey, y'all! 🖤

Here's a black and white version of the banner! I actually did most of the drawing in black and white, and then I added color towards the end to get the edges and details right.

And here's a video of the process! I like to take a screenshot of my progress when I'm done working on my drawing for the day, and I turned these into a video.

What do you think? Do you like seeing different versions and progress videos of my work? Let me know 😊🖤

Link to the original banner here:

[b00kdiary]

Better Than Any Fantasy | Ruhn Danaan + Tristan Flynn

Ruhn Danaan x Tristan Flynn x Plus Size Reader

Y/N’s been avoiding Flynn like the plague, and Ruhn knows why and is more than happy to tell him. Especially when that conversation leads to something much better than any of them could have hoped for.

Here's to all my thick, fat, plus-size girlies who want some SJM men love too xo

Warnings: mature themes (18 +) swearing, body-image issues, eventual smut and the Ruhn and Flynn being utterly infatuated with their thick, beautiful lady.

MASTERLIST

“Ruhn!” The sound that escapes Y/N is like sunlight, the kind of goodness that could be bottled up and sold, a cure for the worst and darkest parts of a person’s nature. “Seriously, how can I flip the pancakes if you won’t let me go?”

“Then forget the pancakes,” I grin against the column of her throat, inhaling the feminine scent of her as I hold her to my chest, my fingers digging into the soft flesh of her stomach, keeping her giggling figure close. “We both know they’re going to taste like shit anyway.”

“Asshole! I can’t believe you!” Y/N exclaims, slapping my hand but she does mercifully drop the spoon in her hand, pouting as she turns off the gas, saving us from having to grin and bear through eating them. “Well, no pancakes for you- The Crown Prince can starve.”

“Ouch, that hurts Princess,” I croon, smirking as I turn her to face me, my hands running along her lush body, down to her soft ass, “Looks like I’m going to have to satiate my appetite some other way then.”

“Really?” She whispers, biting her lip and I can smell her arousal in the air, my smirk deepening at the way her chest rises and falls fast, and she clamps her thick thighs shut, trying to stop the ache between them.

“Really,” I slowly nod my head, watching as her eyes flutter shut as I kiss her cheek, peppering and trailing my tongue over her jaw up to her lips. She gasps into the kiss, her back arching into the counter behind her and it takes everything in me to not lift her onto the edge and feast on the sweetness between her thighs.

I slip my tongue into her mouth, tasting the bittersweet hues of vanilla and coffee and it ignites something in my chest, a dark and intense pulse that burns all the way down to my cock, already hard and throbbing against my jeans.

My fingers curl around the curve of her ass, my nails digging in hard enough to make Y/N moan, and I revel in the feeling of her large tits pressed against my chest, and her stomach too, so comfortable and perfect moulding against me.

The sound of footsteps echoing down the hall toward the kitchen has Y/N halting, and the second her hands push gently at my chest, and her lips draw away from mine, I groan. She giggles at the dejection in my voice, on my face, before pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek as she peels herself away from me- those footsteps infinitely closer now.

“You really have the worst fucking timing, Flynn,” I spit, my dark eyes lifting over Y/N's head, to the brown-haired, golden-skinned pretty boy smirking as he leans against the door pane, looking more than amused at my irate glare.

“By all means, please continue,” Flynn shrugs nonchalantly, teasing us but my lip quirks up at the way Y/N’s body freezes, her cheeks turning an adorable shade of red at Flynn’s words- at the secret between us that made her so perfectly embarrassed.

“Hm, what do you think Y/N?” I mutter gently, my breath running warm against her cheek, and I have to bite my lip to force down my bellowing laughter at the murderous scowl she gives me.

“I need to go get ready, I’m meeting Bryce in a few,” She bites back, ignoring my knowing stare as she pushes at my chest, brushing past me, the stains of red deepening as her gaze meets Flynn’s, before immediately looking away.

“Hey, Y/N,” Flynn smiles softly, but his brow furrows as he takes in her fast-paced footsteps and the way her head is pointed down, unable to meet his eyes.

“Hi, Flynn,” Y/N mumbles back quietly, and before he can open his mouth to speak again, she’s rushing past him, her curvy body curling in on itself like a flower so as not to feel every inch of him against her.

I fold my arms over my chest, trying to blanket my expression as her footsteps bound away and Flynn stares after her, his face a mixture of hurt and confusion, so unlike the usual carefree nonchalance and humour we were used to.

“Okay- she’s barely said five words to me in days, any room I enter she leaves, and she can’t even look me in the eyes,” Flynn frowns, frustration locking his jaw as he comes to lean against the counter-top, staring at me in expectance. “What the hell did I do wrong?”

“You’ve noticed all of that, huh?” I muse, cocking my head at him, and the way his frown deepens, and he leans forward makes me smile. “She’s not upset with you, Flynn. But she is distracted- she sees you and her mind turns to something I said.”

“And what exactly would that be?” He demanded, folding his arms across his muscled chest, seemingly relieved that Y/N wasn’t angry with him, but the glint in his eyes had sharpened, and I knew he was interested, knew he couldn’t help but be intrigued by my devilish smile.

“Well…” I run my tongue across my teeth, my mind racing back to that night four days ago, and Flynn’s eyes darken with shadows as I recall every last detail.

“Ruhn,” Y/N moans, her head tossing back to rest against my shoulder, and I nibble on her earlobe as I fuck my hips up into her, the sound of her wetness mixing with her breathless gasps driving me insane.

I groan as she rolls her hips, my fingers gripping into the meaty flesh of her thighs and hips, guiding her back and forth, up, and down, and the feel of her back and ass pressed against my sweaty bare chest is like heaven.

“Don’t stop, please, please,” She pinches her eyes shut, and I love the sight of her face as she takes me, the TV light casting over her, highlighting every expression she makes- every time she bites her lips, or rolls her eyes, or opens her mouth to release the most delicious sound for me.

“Look at you, such a good girl, so fucking polite,” I croon, my right hand sliding up to cup her heavy breast, bouncing wildly with her movements, and I grin as I pinch her pebbled nipple, rewarded with another whimpered moan from her. “And yet you’re riding me like a slut right now, making a mess of my cock and in the living room, for anyone to come in and see.”

“Oh fuck,” Y/N cries, her body sweating and her breathing erratic and I know her peak is close, know by the way her knees start to give out, her fingers cutting into my arm as she tries to anchor herself. I chuckle, my voice low with headiness and I take it upon myself to drive up into her faster, deeper, to hit that spot that has her seeing stars.

“Bet you’d love that, huh?” I mutter, kissing her neck, running my canines down her throbbing pulse point, “Bet you’d love for someone to walk in right now, to watch you get fucked like a good little slut, your entire body on display.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” She nods her head erratically, fucked dumb and swimming in the clouds of her mind as I slip in and out of her, her wetness almost ridiculous, her walls clenching me so goddamn tight.

“Yeah? Does my Princess want an audience, does she want to be watched?” She gasps as I bite against her sweet spot, that hurt turning to pleasure as I lap my tongue there, feeling her racing pulse. “What if someone came in right now… what if Flynn came in right now, you want him to watch? Or do you want him to join?”

The whimper that escaped her at my dark words surprised me, the way her entire body arched and trembled against me surprised me- because she did want that.

“Huh? You want him to join? You want to get fucked and worshipped by me and my best friend?” The idea makes my core burn, and I know we’re both reaching that climax, that euphoric tipping point where she comes around my cock, suffocating me and milking me dry. “Answer me, Y/N, or I’ll stop.”

“Ruhn,” She pleads with me, and the sound almost makes me give in, give her what she wants, but I don’t relent and when my hips start to slow down, pausing, she groans, and the satisfaction that fills me as she nods her head, almost makes me finish right there. “Yes! Yes, yes, I want that, Ruhn, I want that.”

“Want what? Be specific, Princess,” I coax, groaning, guttural and low as I move inside her, her pussy throbbing around me, her body so happy, so fucking relieved at the feeling of me moving again. “Tell me.”

“I want you a-and Flynn, I want-want to be watched,” Her voice is shaking as she speaks, the sound of her ass slapping back against me so lewd in the air, and I have to grit my teeth at the pressure building in my gut. “I want you both- to touch me an-and fuck me, I want you t-to worship my body.”

“That’s my girl,” I praise, knowing that my encouragement was feeding into her pleasure, heightening it and I know she’s imagining the both of us fucking devouring her, “bet you'd look so good with his cock stuffed in your pretty mouth, or fucking in and out of this tight cunt,"

My cock, my words, the images tip her over that edge with a devastating cry.

“Ruhn, Ruhn, Ruhn-“

“That’s why she’s avoiding you, Flynn,” I state hoarsely, ignoring the way my cock aches, the image of her body and the feeling of being inside her tormenting me now that I’d opened that box up, allowing myself to remember it. “Because when she sees you, she pictures that fantasy all over again.”

“Shit,” Flynn mutters and I recognise the roughness in his voice, recognise the intense, unsatiated gleam in his eyes and the way his entire body has gone hard with restraint. He’s imagining her- her body, her tits, her cunt, her mouth, and everything he could do to her.

I would’ve thought the idea of my best friend fantasising about my girl would make me furious, make me murderously jealous and yet, the more I thought about it, the better it all seemed.

“So, Flynn,” I know he sees the challenge in my eyes, the hot mischief as I grin at him, and I see his brows raise in shock, in interest, as I lean forward. “How do you like the idea?”

***

“Ruhn?” I call, my heels clicking against the floor as I walk down the dimly lit corridor toward Ruhn’s room, my voice echoing through the silence of the empty house. “Hello? Ruhn?”

My phone beeps in my hand, startling me, and I pause a few yards from his ajar door, not hearing the familiar sound of my boyfriend's voice or any other person's voice for that matter. I click open our text thread, and heat instantly fills my body.

‘Come inside, shut the door behind you and close your eyes- no peeking.’

Another game. Ruhn loved his games, loved watching me pant and sweat and blush under his ministrations and my body pulsed in excitement, knowing that as long as I followed his rules, as long as I played my part, I would get my reward.

I bite my lip, discarding my phone on top of the bookcase outside his door and my knees felt weak as I slowly walked over, the anticipation clogging the air. I close my eyes as I step over the threshold, my hand on the doorknob as I close it behind me, the wood creaking before clicking firmly shut.

It was a mixture of terrifying and thrilling, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, but knowing that he was in here with me. That his eyes were on me, watching me, smiling, his gaze running over every inch of me as I stood there.

I hear footsteps echo against the floor, getting louder, and closer, and my nipples harden, the crisp air feeling hot and thick in the silence- knowing he was coming, what he would do, heightened everything.

“Always so obedient,” Ruhn’s voice ran over me like a caress, prickling my skin and I shivered under it, knowing he was inches from me. I swallow as his cold hand traced up the sleeve of my dress, moving slowly before resting against my chest, right over my thundering heart. “Nervous? Or excited?”

“Both,” I whisper, my voice breaking under the pressure of it all, his fingers teasing against my hot skin, barely touching me and yet it felt like I could feel him everywhere.

“Good,” He praised, and I inhaled as he slipped his hand into mine, tugging me forward. I followed, blindly, obediently, walking forward as he led me further into the room before eventually stopping, likely only a few feet from his bed.

His hand slipped from mine and the need to open my eyes intensified, the desire to see him almost overwhelming, especially as he circled me, like a predator, not speaking as he came to stand behind me, his hands clamped down like a vice on my waist.

“Do you want to open your eyes, Princess?” He whispers against my ear, and I can smell the mixture of alcohol and apples on his breath, it intoxicated me, and I whimpered quietly, arching my ass into his already hard cock.

“Yes, yes please,” With anyone else I would have been mortified by how my voice shook, at how desperate and helpless I sounded, but not with Ruhn, no, I couldn’t ever feel anything but thrill and need and comfort when with him.

“I think you’ve more than earned your reward,” Ruhn nibbles against my ear, his favourite tactic to make me dizzy, to fill my head with clouds, distracting me wholly. “Go ahead, open your eyes for me, Y/N.”

I inhale once, deep and steadying, and then with a long, slow exhale, I flutter my eyes open.

And my heart stops in my chest.

“Flynn?” I choke out his name, jumping at the sight of him sitting on the bed before me, leaning back on his strong arms, his eyes racking over me like I was prey, “What the fuck?”

“Breathe, just for a second, breathe,” Ruhn instructs from behind me, and my body seems to melt into calm, melt into him. It was as if I were predestined to trust him, to obey his words. I force the air back into my lungs as I stare at Flynn, my body shaking at the look in his eyes- for me.

“I don’t understand,” I mutter, my throat drying out as I glance over my shoulder up at Ruhn, to the pleased smile he wore. I watch as his gaze meets Flynn’s and something passes between them, some unspoken conversation I wasn’t privy to. “Tell me, Ruhn.”

“Flynn was upset that you’ve been avoiding him, he thought he had done something wrong,” Ruhn informs me, looking far too smug. It would have annoyed me if I didn’t feel so guilty for hurting Flynn. “I was more than happy to fill him in on the real reason you were being so distant.”

The real reason. That night, Ruhn’s words, his taunting, seductive, torturous words that have me picturing it all again- Flynn and Ruhn, all over me, touching me, tasting me, fucking me, absolutely ruining me.

“I see you remember it well,” Ruhn chuckles- the prick was taunting me, and I almost hated myself for how my body responded, how my arousal scented through the air, so obvious to the two arrogant males before me. “And we wondered if that certain fantasy was one, we could fulfil for you, Y/N."

“Oh,” It was an idiotic response, one that Ruhn would no doubt endlessly mock me about later, but I was speechless, breathless, my entire being trembling and weak at his words, at the insinuation, nervous under Ruhn’s watchful eyes.

“Is that something you would like, Y/N?” Ruhn mutters, and I sigh as he runs his nose down the vein of my neck, inhaling the scent of me. My eyes glanced to Flynn, patiently waiting, and the sweet smile he wore told me it was all up to me.

“Is- is that something you would want us to do, Ruhn?” My voice is weary as I glance back at him, and upon seeing the fear and concern in my eyes, that he would think I wasn’t happy with him, Ruhn smiles- one that warms my heart.

“I’m yours and you’re mine, Y/N, always,” He kisses my cheek, tenderly, and it’s enough to drive me mad, “But that doesn't mean I can't share, in fact, I'm more than willing to see you being pleasured by us both."

Excitement and thrill- that was always what I felt with Ruhn.

“Then yes,” I breathe the words and instantly the air in the room changes, the two males change and the predators in them, the hunters in them, the instinct of the Fae comes roaring out, their eyes latching onto me.

A low, rumbling sound reverberated through Ruhn’s chest and I felt it vibrate through me, straight to my thrashing heartbeat. I clench my hands as Ruhn turns my face toward his, and the second his lips connect with mine, every worry withers away.

I melt into the way his tongue laps against mine, smooth and graceful, so skilled in making something as simple as a kiss feel as intimate and real as when he fucks me, and it makes me just as wet.

“Why don’t we show Flynn here what’s under this dress, hm?” Ruhn muses against my lips, and I can feel Flynn’s intense stare and it’s almost terrifying how still he is. “Let him see what he's been fantasising about all day."

I gnaw on my lip, nodding my head and turning to watch Flynn’s reaction. Ruhn begins to tug at the zipper at the back, and immediately Flynn’s beautiful face turns lethal, feral, sharpening in a way that made me clamp my legs shut, so desperate to stop the ache there.

He tugs the zipper to the end, and together, we pull the material down my arms and chest, letting it slip over my wide hips and thighs before it pools to the floor at my feet.

“Shit,” Flynn curses, his jaw locking hard enough I can hear his teeth grating, and at that moment, wearing nothing but a black bra and panties, I’m glad that I hadn’t chosen something silly or unflattering to wear today- because he was looking at me like I was the beautiful one.

“I know,” Ruhn says, agreeing with his best friend, his brother, and my cheeks heat at the pride in his voice, the sheer masculine satisfaction. He was pleased with Flynn’s reaction, pleased that his chest was racing wildly, that his throat bobbed as he traced over my skin, pleased at the hard length imprinted against the seam of his jeans. “She looks even better without these on.”

Nausea fills me at the thought of Ruhn unclipping my bra and slipping off my underwear, nausea at the idea of being wholly naked before Flynn, every single curve and roll and stretch mark, all my cellulite and uneven skin and bumps on display.

It had taken me a long time to be comfortable enough for Ruhn to see me naked, and I loved him. Letting Flynn see me that vulnerable seemed like such a big leap to take.

"Is that alright, Y/N?" Flynn asked, and the tenderness in his face almost made me sob, the kind and thoughtful gleam in his eyes that told me that I could trust him told me that he would respect any choice I made.

"It's alright," I nod slowly, pushing down the insecurity and when Ruhn's gentle hands move to the clasp of my bra and he unhooks it, letting my aching breasts fall free of the material, I'm glad for that choice.

I recalled Flynn once stating he was a tits-over-ass man, and right now I could tell he was being honest. I watched as he ran a hand over his jaw, his gaze flickering back and forth between both of my breasts, a deep groan escaping him at the sight of them.

Ruhn chuckles, far too happy as he kneels behind me, his fingers gently hooking into the material of my underwear and began slowly tugging it down, over the curve of my ass and my wide hips, down my thighs, the material getting stuck between the places that touched and eventually down to the floor.

I curled my hands into fists, my nails cutting into my palms as Ruhn held onto each calf and slipped off my heels, one by one, and I giggled at the sound of him tossing the shoes behind us, my clothes and underwear flung back to some faraway corner as well.

"You were right, Ruhn," Flynn states roughly, his tongue lapping out to wet his lips, and I smiled under his eyes, the way they moved over me, over every inch, not blanching at any of me. "She's definitely better without anything on."

Ruhn stood behind me again, running his fingers up and down the length of my back, and something in me purred.

“I think Flynn should get a better look," I mutter, my confidence spiking as I glance back to Ruhn and his smirk is proud, arrogantly proud, "Or a better feel?"

The air went taut as I sauntered toward him, Flynn looking almost nervous as I came to a stop before him, staring down at his perfect form. I place a hand on each of his broad shoulders, my knees weak as I climb onto the mattress, his hands not hesitating to grab my waist and guide me to straddle his lap.

My sore nipples brush against the material of his shirt and my wet, aching core sits perfectly over the seam of his zipper igniting red, hot embers through my entire body. Flynn remains silent as he stares at me, his hands moving over my naked hips and thighs, waiting for me to make the first move.

Even if I could hear his heart racing, his eyes telling me that he was on the very precipice of his control.

"Kiss me, Flynn."

And by Cthona, he kisses me.

The way Flynn kisses is different to Ruhn, his mouth moves against me, all tongue, and teeth, suckling and biting and tasting, and I moan into it, relishing every second of him devouring me, every second of his hands all over me, palming and kneading my flesh, slapping, and clawing at my ass.

“Fuck me, Y/N,” Flynn growls in appreciation and I don’t have a second of reprieve as he kisses down my neck hastily, not hesitating to pluck a nipple into his mouth and suck at the taut bud. Gasps slip past my lips as he rolled it, bit it, lapped at it, the nerves alight as he moved between each, looking damn near giddy as he toyed with them.

The ache between my legs intensifies as he sucks at my breasts and I start rocking back and forth to ease the feeling, the material of his jeans and the hardness of his cock underneath rubbing against my puffy clit perfectly.

"Tsk tsk tsk," Ruhn muses from behind us, and my eyes flutter as I glance at him, moving to sit on the bed beside us, his shirt gone and stars gleaming in his eyes as he watches us. "The poor girls rutting against your clothed cock, Flynn, give her what she wants."

"And what do you want? Hm?" Flynn taunts, trailing his tongue over my nipple, his dewy eyes looking up at me as he does so, and I groan at the sight, and at the hold he has on my hips, halting any movement I try and make.

“Your fingers,” I croak, gripping his large hand and watching his breath catch as I drag it down my stomach, whimpering as I run his calloused fingers over my wet folds. “Right here.”

“You’re going to kill me,” He snarls, and my eyes clamp shut when he circles my clit, firm and sure, his fingers knowing exactly how hard and fast to go, and he has me arching my back and moaning, glad for the hand he had keeping me from toppling over. Flynn smiles, kissing my lips and cheeks, moving his fingers against my clit faster.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly my orgasm seemed to approach, and I knew I wouldn’t last long, not as that fire fanned in my core, edged on by every smooth flick of his fingers at my clit.

“You wanna come, Y/N?" Ruhn asks darkly and when my head turns, I see him palming his hard cock over his jeans, the muscles in his chest clenching and flexing in restraint, watching his best friend finger his girlfriend, and loving every second of it. "Be a good girl and ask Flynn if he'll let you."

"Please, please," I mewl loudly, my head throwing back as Flynn slips two fingers into my sopping cunt, the friction of him fucking his fingers in and out forcing me closer and closer to that edge, "Please, Flynn, let me come."

"So polite, asking me so nicely," Flynn croons and my thighs quake when he crooks his fingers inside me, pressing that magic button that has a swarm spreading through my stomach and core. "How could I possibly say no?"

He hooks his fingers against that spot again, and again, and his thumb brushes my clit and before I know it, I’m falling off the edge of a cliff.

“Flynn, oh-“ I cry out as his fingers drive into me repeatedly, hitting a spot that has my core exploding, hitting me hard and fast and lasting so long that my head starts to spin.

“Atta girl,” Flynn praises, and I feel his smile against my skin as he slows his fingers inside me, feeling every pulse and quake of my orgasm, before slowly slipping them out of me.

I sag forward, resting my forehead against his shoulder for support as I catch my breath, tendrils of release still coiling through me and gradually melting into oblivion. Flynn’s touch is soft across my back, waiting for me to come back down to Midgard.

“How are you feeling, Princess?” Ruhn asks quietly, his hand running through my messy hair, brushing it from my sweaty face and hooking the strands behind an arched ear. I flutter my eyes and meet both their gazes and again, that vicious, relentless monster of need rears its head.

“I feel like I want more,” I whispered, my voice hoarse and the heat that filled their eyes made my entire body ache. “Please.”

“Shit, Ruhn, you weren’t lying when you said she was a good girl,” Flynn growls and I giggle when his hands clamp down on my hips, lifting me with ease to sit on the bed between them both, the two of them rising from their seats. “She does deserve all the praise and rewards.”

“That’s my girl,” Ruhn winks at me and my cheeks burn at his words, joy and shyness filling me at the smile both males wore, looking at me like I was a fucking dream come true. “Move back on the bed, Y/N, we’ll give you what you want,”

Flynn chuckles as I rush to do so, my tits bouncing as I crawl backwards toward the headboard, stopping when I’m in the middle of the bed, space on either side of me.

My mouth waters as the two boys before me begin to reach for their clothes. I watch as Flynn unbuttons his shirt, one by one, almost agonisingly slow before he peels the material off his body revealing inches of muscle and rippling packs.

Where Ruhn was slender and lean, with hard abs and glorious tatted skin, Flynn was bigger, corded muscle and a six-pack for days. My pussy soaked at the sight of them both, grinning like they knew what they were doing to me.

I bite my lip hard enough to hurt as they both reach for their pants, the only sound in the air is my haughty breaths, the clinking of their unlocked belts and the sound of two zippers gracefully sliding down.

I whimper at the sight, a high-pitched, needy sound that makes them both look at me, Flynn raising an amused brow as he reaches down, tugging off his jeans and throwing them to the side, Ruhn following suit.

They were big, both of them. Big and thick, gloriously hung with strong veins and white pearly pre-cum leaking down their tips.

It took me a long time to adjust to Ruhn’s size, and even now my pussy was always too tight, always wrapped around him so painfully that he said it was the sweetest torture. And as I eyed Flynn’s cock, saw how red and angry it looked, I knew he would feel the same.

“Such a pretty girl,” Ruhn muttered, his blue eyes darkening to a tidal wave, a terrifying tsunami as he rounded the bed, his body glorious under the lights as he climbed onto the mattress, settling just behind me. “So, fucking pretty, right Flynn?”

“I can’t argue with you there, Ruhn,” Flynn smirks, and my thighs clench when he crawls onto the bed, his cock rising and hard as he settles just before me, looking down at me like he couldn’t believe his eyes. “I’m very jealous of your boyfriend, Y/N.”

He runs his hands up my calves, his touch bare as he moves up and down, going as high as my hip bone before swiftly moving back down, all the way to my ankles.

“Poor Flynn,” Ruhn laughs, and I groan as his hand slips around my neck, curling his fingers to grip my jugular, tipping my head back to meet his face above me, “You wanna help make our friend feel better, Princess?”

I grin, and Ruhn’s face is a mirror of mine as his hand slips away and I roll over and onto my front, my knees spreading and ass arching into the air. Flynn’s breath audibly catches, and the sound he makes is animal, purely Fae, at the sight of my pussy wet and bare, waiting for him.

“Flynn,” I mewl, my head sagging forward and resting against Ruhn’s stomach as Flynn runs his hands over my ass, scratching and fondling the flesh, but he doesn’t move further. “Please just fuck me, I can’t wait-“

“There we go,” Ruhn mutters and I can hear his grin as Flynn rubs his tip over my wet fold and before I can even moan, he’s pushing the head into my entrance, choking on a rough laugh as my pussy immediately sucks him in.

The sounds that escape me are high-pitched and restless as Flynn shoves the rest of his length inside me, not being gentle or slow, and I’m glad for it. Glad for the way he stretches me so thoroughly, glad that I can feel him sink all the way in, brushing a spot far and deep inside.

“Gods above,” Flynn growls, his nails cutting into the flesh of my ass as he draws himself out, nearly to the tip before plunging back in, the sound of skin slapping and my wetness making Ruhn groan. He swears lowly, watching as I suck up his length inch by inch, starting to move faster against me now.

Ruhn runs his hands over my hair, his face full of pride as he watches me kneel before him, my body wrecking back and forth, my tits bouncing as Flynn pounds into me, our moans a melody.

“Ruhn, Ruhn,” I plead, my wide eyes meeting his and he runs his thumb over my lip, a knowing gleam in his eyes, “Fuck my mouth, baby please, fuck my mouth.”

He didn’t say anything, nor did he wait, and my entire body trembled as his fingers gently collected my hair behind me, easily guiding me over his erect cock, waiting so patiently before me, and I closed my eyes as he brushed the tip over my lips and then pushed into my mouth.

“Shit, Y/N,” Ruhn groaned as he fisted my hair, guiding my head up and down his shaft, hitting the back of my throat more than once. I gagged and then moaned, Flynn spreading my thighs wider, and sinking deep into a tender spot within me.

There was so much spit drooling from my mouth, making a mess of Ruhn’s cock and stomach as he bucked his hips up, fucking my mouth just the way I liked, and as Flynn moved behind me in tandem, his cock slipping in and out, in and out, relentlessly, I was a whimpering, breaking mess.

It felt so good, felt so fucking right getting fucked at either end of me, and Ruhn swore, his body twitching as I moaned around his cock, the sound vibrating through him, bringing him closer and closer to that sweet edge.

“Shit, Y/N, shit,” Flynn gasped, his voice rasping and hoarse, breathless as he gripped my ass, as he had his way with me, still so painfully big but the hurt felt good, brought me closer to my end. “Look at that pussy, wrapped around me so fucking tight.”

His words encouraged me, and I suckled against Ruhn’s cock harder, tasting the familiar saltiness of his pre-cum, loving the ache of his fingers yanking at my hair, the pain at odds with the fullness of Flynn pounding into me, that dam inside me starting to fill.

“Princess, I’m not gonna last,” Ruhn warns, his fingers tightening in my hair, his hips stuttering, and I take it upon myself to get him there, to hear him moan my name as I suck against him, hard and fast, hollowing my cheeks and taking him even further down my throat. “Oh fuck- Y/N.”

He growls an animalistic, rugged sound that echoes through the whole room and makes my clit throb, his body jerking as I feel the warm, salty liquid squirt from his cock straight down my throat. I swallow, I always swallow, moaning happily as I do.

“Flynn, I’m so close,” I call out, Ruhn’s semi-hard cock resting against his stomach now and my face burying into his hip, feeling the tender touch of my boyfriend's hand in my hair, so opposing to the brutal, bruising hold of Flynn behind me.

“Me too, Y/N,” Flynn hissed, his cock starting to hammer into me quicker, and I can barely stop the shaking in my knees. I gasp when his thumb reaches around me, rubbing messily at my clit, and the angle changes, moving further and every single touch is too fucking much.

“There, there, there-“ I call out again and again and again, teeth biting against Ruhn’s thigh, something he fucking loves, as I’m hit with my release, a wildfire that starts at my core, and just erupts, moving through my veins and blood and bones and I can’t stop the sounds coming from me.

Flynn’s hips start to falter, curses endlessly falling from his lips as my pussy clenches around him like a vice, so tight and unyielding that he roars, stilling and growling as his cock spills inside me, filling me up.

Pleasure, hot and white and blinding, dying out so slow as Flynn moves inside me gradually, spreading his hot cum all over me, and it all feels like heaven.

I huff out a huge breath of air, my eyes clamped shut and head spinning and when Flynn ever so gently slips out of me, his hands holding onto the flesh of my hips and guiding me to turn and lay flat on my back, I don’t even fight it.

Pure exhaustion riddles me, so much so, that I lay there, my head against Ruhn’s thigh and my body trembling and weak against the mattress, unable to stop how my core throbs with the aftermath of my orgasm.

I blink open my eyes after several seconds and I’m met with the two males before me, their eyes returned to their usual bright shades of blue and brown, and their lips tilted up, sweet and wonderful as ever.

We’re all covered in sweat and panting, but as Ruhn look down at me from behind, and Flynn sits between my legs, rubbing at my weak thighs, I know we’re all fucked out- for now.

“Did that live up to the fantasy?” Ruhn mutters, his smile adoring as he brushes the hair free from my sweaty forehead, his fingers so gentle as he rubs the spots on my scalp he had yanked at before.

“Better than any fantasy,” I breathe, my cheeks hot as I grin, and Ruhn’s eyes brighten as he takes me in. I gnaw on my cheek, glancing forward to Flynn, his eyes never once leaving mine, “And for you, Flynn?”

“I agree, Y/N,” He smirks, his grip tightening around my thigh, and the look is so telling, that even Ruhn laughs, “So much so that I’ve got a few more fantasies that we could try.”

----------

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered

[lingeriae]

DEEP

synopsis - being fuck buddies with geto suguru has got to be one of the worst(best) decision you have ever made, especially since you have feelings for said man. ( inspired by deep by summerwalker)

warnings! - cursing, smut, use of n-word, fwb to lovers-ish, angst, fluff, happy ending (or it there?).

parings - geto suguru x black! reader

You try not to make eye-contact with the male infront of you, his arms crossed over his chest as he slouched spreading out his long legs infront of him. From the eyes glaring into your skull, you could tell he was staring at you and he couldn't care less if anyone noticed how hard he was staring.

He looked good, and you had no doubt he smelled good either although you hadn't been all up on him to know if that was true or not.

But Suguru always smelled good, you knew that and you'd bet that bitch who was rubbing all up on him knew it too. She had on a neon-green tube top, with a black leather mini-skirt to match it, her sliver nose stud glistened under the lights as you watched her move closer to your man-

'huh?'

You immediately ended your train of thoughts there, deciding to get up and find yourself a drink because of how delusional you sounded.

"Ima go get me something to drink," you tapped Shoko on her shoulder before getting up, leaning up to whisper in her ears so she could hear, "be right back."

She nodded, turning back to a blushing Utahime which made you giggle knowing Shoko was defininetly gonna hit that tonight. As you walked you pulled down the shorts that was riding up your ass, sucking your teeth as it just rode back up.You finally made your way to the kitchen, opening the fridge to look for something strong that would make you forget the thoughts you had from earlier.

Bending over to open the draw at the bottom, the feeling of someone coming up an pressing into your ass causing you to gasp and stand up straight, your plump lips immediately set to cuss out the bitchass who thought that was a bright idea. Turning around, you immediately sucked your teeth at the person looking back at you,

"I know your mama taught you better than that." you said, turning back to the fridge to grab the beer you wanted and trying not to make the warmth from the male behind you cloud your judgement. Suguru grinned, his eyes creasing around the corners and his smile lines appeared causing you to clear your throat at the warmth that spread inside of you unexpectedly.

"And I know I taught you better than to ignore me." he replied, grin still on his face as he looked down at you watching how you fiddled with the top of your beer nervously and twisted your glossed lips. Something he noticed you always did while being confronted. You rolled your neck, and Geto mentally prepared himself for the attitude you were about to give him, placing his hands inside the pocket of his sweatpants as he watched you fold your arms as if to intimidate him.

The thought made his lips tilt up for a spilt second,

"Well, im sorry ian wanna interupt you and your little 'friend'."

Suguru paused at your comment, tilting his head to the side his eyes narrowing at you. "If your jealous, say that."

You almost broke your neck because of how fast you looked up at him, your eye twitching as you repeated the word jealous over and over in your head. Sucking your teeth you looked Geto up and down,

"Nigga please, jealous? You aint even my man talking bout some 'jealous'." You side stepped him, your eyes rolling as you continued to cuss him out under your breath. "Dick aint even that good, witcho bitchass."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you immediately regreted it. A sinking feeling appeared in your stomach as you prayed he didn't hear what you said only to curse under your breath at his response.

"Oh, word?" you didn't know what made your face heat up, the tone of his voice, how close he was to you, or the look in his eyes. Sun-kissed skin almost feeling like it was turning red because of how hot it was getting, and you subtly tried to press your thighs togther as you kept eye-contact with the black haired man, biting your plump lips at the expression on his face.

Suguru leaned in closer, his hair that was out of it's usual bun brushing causing the strands to brush against your cheeks, his lips so close to touching yours. He placed one hand on the counter behind you, while the other moved to push you up against him, his hands feeling up your ass as he had you right were he wanted you.

"You're being so bratty, but don't worry i'll fix that shit soon enough." and just like that he backed away from you, checking you out before turning and walking away leaving you with your chest heaving and your thighs pressed tightly together as a ache started to form between your legs.

For the rest of the night you were anxious, wondering what Suguru was going to do and making sure to constantly dodge him for the rest of the night, and it was working, mostly.

"Hey guys, m'gonna head out now I got things to do in the morning and I be damned if I wake up with a headache." you said, waving goodbye to everyone as you walked out of the house preparing to call an uber.

An arm wrapped itself around your waist, briging you into a firm chest.

"Where do you think you're going?" you tensed, not looking behind you as you tried to keep your straight as you swiped through instagram.

"Im going home Geto."

Suguru licked his lips as he looked down at you, his chest vibrating as he laughed before grabbing your hand leading you towards his car.

"W-what the fuck? bro, let me go. Geto im not playin with you right now, let me go." you struggled against his grip, feeling as his hands tightened around your wrist but not tight enough to hurt you.

He opened the door waiting for you to get in while you stood there staring at him with your arms crossed and your plump lips turned down into a scowl. Sighing, Suguru rubbed the bridge of his nose becoming irritated with your behaviour.

"Get in the car, Y/n."

"Fuck you."

"Later, baby." he flashed you a grin before his face got stern again, "Now get in the car, before I haul your pretty ass in myself." you stared at him for a good minute before sucking your teeth and rolling your eyes, moving inside of his car with a huff as you sat down. Smiling the male closed the door beore jogging around to his side of the car.

The car was silent as Suguru droved you home, you stared out the window refusing to look or talk to him while he drove with his hand place firmly on your thigh, herefused to move it even after your attempts at pushing it off, and the other one on the wheel. He sighed as he stopped at a traffic light, turning to look at you who stubbornly refused to look at him.

"Wanna tell me what the fuck I did?" He said, rubbing circles in your thighs you turned to look him up and down, "Nothing."

Suguru sucked his teeth, glaring at you. You could see he was becoming fustrated with you, which made you even more upset because how dare he.

"If it's not nothing why the fuck are you acting like this?" Turning to face him more you returned his glare, your eyes begining to water as you look at him. "Why the fuck you care so much? You aint care when you was with that bitch declining my calls."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you, his chest hurting as he saw how hard you were trying to hold back your tears. "What the fuck are you talking about, Y/n?" You kissed your teeth at him, shaking your head. "Ion even wanna talk to you right now."

"Nah, what the fuck are you talking about?"

Forcing yoursel to laugh, you turned yourself back around no longer facing him. "I just find it funny how you feeding me all this fake shit, just to be up in other bitches faces. Having me calling you just for you to be up in some randoms pussy and having me look like a clown."

The car got silent as Suguru looked at you, waiting for you to show any sign that you were joking. He sighed opening his mouth to answer you only for a car horn to interupt him making him realize the traffic light had turned green again. As you reached to your house you were immediately out of the car, slamming the door as you got out and trying to walk fast so that the male behind you couldn't catch up.

You stopped halfway as he grabbed your wrist, refusing to turn towards him so that he could see the tears in your eyes.

"I don't know what somebody said to you, but baby, I promise that the only pussy I been in is yours and all this shit im feeding is not fake."

Sniffing you turn towards him, unlocking your phone before shoving it in his face. "How you gon explain this then?" He took the phone from your hand, staring down at it with a crease in his eyebrow. Shaking his head SUgur looked back up at you, "Mama this picture is old, where did you get this?"

"Some bitch sent it to me on instagram, thought I should know what you get up to when you tell me your busy." You say, sass evident inyour body language. "How I know your not lying?"

"I can't prove im not lying you just gotta trust me on this," he releases your wrist to hold unto your waist, bringing you closer to him only to be stopped by you bringing your palms to his chest.

"What about you declining my calls?" you feel your core heat up because of the way the way Suguru was looking at you. Eyes low lidded and a little glossy, roaming your figure ever chance he got his held unto your wrist as you lay your palms against his chest feeling how fast his heart was beating from your touch alone, he licked his lips as he noticed your eyes on him before the turned up into a lazy grin. "My phone was dead because I forgot to charge it. You would've know that if you didn't block me."

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarassment, allowing Geto to bring your wrists up to his lips placing a kiss on them, before drawing you in closer by your hips. His kissed the side of your neck causing you to grip his shirt, without having his touch for several days you were now weakened by it no longer touch-starved because of his lack of touvh. Suguru drageed his lips against the side of your neck, smirking at how sensitive you were, he brought his lips to your ears and you suddenly felt hot all over at his next words.

"You were being so mean at that party tonight, think you should make it up to me, don't you?"

"W-wait! Sugu-aah!"

The brutal thrust that the man behind you were giving could almost be desrcibed as animalistic. The grip he had on your hips never letting up as the other forced you to keep your arch.

"Wait on what baby? You keep my pussy away from me, and what me to wait? taah must be fucking crazy."

"m'sorry, s-swear jus-fuck! hold on!" Geto yanked you back into him, a squeal leaving your lips at the feeling, "Where you going, baby? Thought the dick wasn't that good? Why you runnin from it?"

"m-m'sorry da! i am-i am! mmm, best dick I ever had I swear!"

A grin stretched across Suguru's face at your words, giving your plump brown ass a smack before giving you a thrust that definetly hit the spot, "I know baby, just needed this dick to fuck some sense into you." Nodding your head in agreement, you repeated the male's name over and over mesmorized by how good he was making you feel.

"Keep on forgettin that t's your dick, and your's alone. Just like this pussy is mine." He brought his hand to rub at your clit, a whine falling from your lips as you held his hand,

"y-yeah, it's your's a-all your's papa."

There was no use begging for him to take it slow, only to submit to his brutually fast a deep strokes. Your hands are now held above your head because of you trying to get him to slow down but to know avail.

you fucked yourself back on him, listening to the groan he let out and feeling how he tightened his grip on your hair before pushing your face down against the pillow, watching how his cock drilled in and out of you in a fluid motion the sight almost making him dizzy. As he felt himself about to cum he turned you over, wanting to see your face.

He watched how your titties bounced up with each thrust, then to your face and how it was screwed up due to pleasure a little drool passing your lips as you out moans, telling Suguru how good he's fucking you and not to stop.

You came first, and Geto followed right after placing a kiss on your lips as he pulled out. "Suguru, I love you."

He froze up, looking down at you through his hair, which you had pulled out of the makeshift ponytail he put up. A smile soon took over his face as he kissed you again, humming against your lips.

"I love you too."

[arcanarix]

Make That Double, Ch5 - Yan!SatoSugu x Fem!Reader [AO3]

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: lactation kink, mommy kink, exhibitionism, piv sex (protected), non-con (w/ geto, more gojo-centric stuff next chapter)

After the first time, Geto can’t get enough of you.

As someone who prides himself on being a principled man (the definition must have changed over the years…), he does follow through on allowing you a week of recovery before picking back up where he left off. He’s become bolder now. Makes you sit on his lap with his cock buried inside your pussy (protected, of course), as he gazes upon his non-sorcerer followers while they worship the ground he walks on, kissing at his feet, kissing up his ass.

He doesn’t seem to give a damn if he has spectators when they’re non-sorcerers. He can’t care less, even. Almost as if him pleasuring you is yet another way to impose his power over them. They’re all beneath him, and they can all bear witness to how well he can draw pleasure from you.

“Mamma,” he drawls as he secures his slender arms around your waist. “Observe them. Look how they kneel before us. They know you’re special. Exceptional. After all, not just anyone, especially not monkeys like them, get to have me all to themselves like this.

“They don’t get to know how good you feel,” he goes on, his hips bucking as he hits that right spot, and you can’t even hold back the low moan rumbling from deep in your chest. “They’ll be so close to you, but no cigar. Watch them while I fuck you.”

Your pupils dilate as your lower lip quivers.

“Suguru?” you whisper, but his possessive hold on your waist tightens as a snap of his hips fills the air, and you’re gasping again, his cock keeping you full and brushing against that right spot again and again until—

“—Come for me,” he demands in a low, sultry growl. “Let them see.”

Your walls clench around his girthy cock and you come down from the high in ragged breaths.

He pecks your forehead. “Good, Mamma?”

You reluctantly nod, twisting your head around to kiss him. You tell yourself to play into this, to keep pleasing him. “Yes, darling.”

“Then let’s go again,” he whispers, fingers spreading your pussy. “Look how wet you are for me. How wonderful.”

His fingers circle your clit, drawing a gasp out of you.

“Suguru…” He groans when his name slips from your sweet lips, as he buries his head into your shoulder. “The prayers are almost done.”

“Are they?” Suguru’s eyes rest on his devotees, who have remained in a kneeling position since their last prayer. “Dismissed, all of you.”

The devotees waste none of their valuable time emptying the room.

And Geto wastes no time in disrobing you so he can feast his eyes on his pretty trophy.

His lips seize yours as he pins you beneath him, his body melding and clinging to yours like a fitting puzzle as he mouths down your neck. His cock is still rock hard inside of you, and his fists are clenched on either side of your head as he maintains a moderate rhythm. He doesn’t seem too keen on the idea of finishing just yet, but he’s proven before that he can last hours without coming. More focused on seeing what kind of reactions and sounds he can coax out of you with every little thing he does, almost like he’s studying you, figuring you out. Understanding what gets you going. Almost…

Almost as if you matter at all.

He grunts as your walls clench around his stiff cock for a third or fourth time now; you know better than to keep count at this point. He’s thorough, tossing out the used condoms and replacing them each round. He wants to ensure no accidents. He’s not interested in breeding more. It’s unlikely any of that will work out in his favor. It’s for the same reasons he’s settling on a non-sorcerer partner.

It’s funny how easily you can adapt to even the worst of situations. He noses into your neck again, inhaling your perfect, natural scent—he seems so drawn to you, yet you can’t even fathom the reason why.

“Suguru,” you moan unwittingly, and he growls into your ear.

“Yes, Mamma?” he replies, nibbling on the shell of your ear.

“Please,” you beg, mouthing at his jaw to appeal to him. “I don’t think I can…”

“You can, Mamma,” he assures you with a low hum. “You’re most beautiful like this.”

His hips snap as he thrusts a bit harsher into you, and your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging deep into his flesh, but he can feel you tremble beneath him, desperate to flee from his grasp but you know you can’t go anywhere.

“You’re so beautiful,” he goes on, rolling his hips as he thrust into you again. “Knowing your place.”

Another snap of his hips, and you arch your body into him, as he coos encouraging words to you, pleased by such a reaction. You hate yourself, biting back the curses you feel threatening to spew from your loose cannon of a mouth, but you can’t upset him in moments like these, or ever. Not unless you want your situation to get much, much worse than it already is.

“But darling, you’ve already made me feel so good,” you mumble, as your timid eyes meet his steely violet gaze. “We can rest now.”

“No, Mamma,” he sighs as his brows knit into a disapproving scowl. It almost makes you shudder. “You don’t get to decide when we stop. I don’t want to stop.”

“Suguru…” Your fingers drag down his hips, resting at his waist. The protests die on your tongue as he shoots you a warning glare, and your defenses shut down entirely. Your body already feels like jelly. He takes his time with you, making sure you finish. The worst part is how good he can make it feel even if you desperately wish to reject it.

You almost find yourself not entirely hating it. Yes, for a while, you have desired something like this, but obviously consensually and with a partner you fully trust. You won’t ever come to trust Geto, but maybe that doesn’t matter anymore.

A breathy whine escapes your lips as he nips your collarbone, already marked up with bruises and hickeys. He doesn’t hold back. His fingers reach your neck to fiddle with the gold chain he gave you, resting his chin between your breasts as he admires your aroused, debauched state. Even if you don’t admit it to him, he knows how good he makes you feel, and that alone seems to be enough for him.

“Let me get one more out of you, Mamma, and then we can rest,” he vows, kissing between your breasts before his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, his tongue lapping around the bud as he picks him a faster, harder rhythm.

You don’t stop the chorus of sounds you make; that seems to make him happy. That’s what matters now.

Things don’t quiet down for you. Whenever the mood strikes for him, you find yourself locking with Geto at any open opportunity. And you mean quite literally any open opportunity. You find you’re already used to it. There’s no reason for you to dwell on the things you can control, and only on the things you can…which is still very limiting.

You can’t allow yourself to drift off too much in thought in the presence of either Tweedledee or Tweedledum, either. You’re constantly on high alert. You have to be. They always want to be all over you, no matter what. You don’t remember having even a moment to breathe when they just want to take, and take, and take.

Geto is away on some business with other members of his ‘family.’ During which, Gojo has stopped by, and Geto entrusts him to remain hidden from the cult members. You’re found in the underground again with his long arm looped over your shoulders as he makes you binge watch some of his favorite movies.

At least he’s not handsy with you this time, you figure, but he does enjoy keeping very close to you. Probably he knows it best not to overstep when Geto isn’t present in the room with the two of you, and there are probably other rules to this arrangement that you aren’t aware of yourself. Not that it matters anymore what you know or don’t know.

“Satoru…” you start in a concerned tone. He peers at you while lifting his sunglasses slightly, his lips parted as he waits for you to continue. “You seem kind of wound up.”

Testing the murky waters, your hand ghosts over his lap where there’s a visible tent growing, and he shudders before grasping that hand to stop it, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I am, a little bit,” he admits, as his eyes flit to the gold chain around your neck before meeting your eyes. “But that’s nothing for you to worry about right now, Princess.”

You do notice him gulping at the idea of playing with you.

“Don’t you want to do something about it?” you insist, “Or does Suguru keep you on a tight leash?”

Gojo absently runs his tongue past his lips as they twitch into a half-hearted smirk.

“Something like that,” he replies, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss along your knuckles. He’s allowed this much, at least. Just nothing too overt while Geto’s gone. “I promised to play fair.”

“And you still are,” you point out to him in a syrupy sweet tone, peering up at him through your lashes. “Right?”

His breath hitches again. You can see it through those brilliant blue eyes of his—he’s warring with himself, teetering over a dangerous edge he knows he shouldn’t jump off.  Not unless he wants to invite a certain kind of Hell to himself. He wants to act on his own desires, and you want him to, if not for no other reason than to piss Geto off further because what other way can you get him back right now?

But to your utter shock, he relents, keeping his hands away from less modest places. Your mouth is agape. He actually does have some self-restraint, and you can’t believe you’re saying this, but you’re disappointed as all Hell.

“We can’t, Princess,” he finalizes with a pout. “Not without Suguru here.”

Ah. So there are rules to the arrangement you don’t know about then. You still don’t understand their weird dynamic, but you have to accept that you probably never are going to understand. All you can do is make inferences, at best.

“Even if I wanted to do something, Satoru?” you ask, tone so innocent, that it even surprises you. “You wouldn’t deny me, would you?”

“Don’t,” he warns, his lips pressing into a thin line as he loosens his grip on your hand. “You don’t want to get on his bad side. Believe me.”

You cock your head to the side as your brows furrow in contempt.

“What do you mean?” you reply, “What would he do to you? Doesn’t he love you? I mean…”

Not like you really know anything about either of them.

Gojo sighs, smiling at you, but it doesn’t go to his eyes. Uh oh. There really is trouble in paradise for them. “It’s nothing for you to worry about, remember? Just—we—you have to listen to him, okay?”

You nod, nuzzling into him, which he happily accepts and returns, burying his face into your neck.

“Okay,” you mumble, but then add: “But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

“Baby,” he sighs again, his patience wearing thin with you, and himself. He wants to so bad, and you wish he would, but he won’t, and you can’t stand the fact that it makes you angry. “We can’t.”

That’s your signal not to push the matter further. You have all you need to know. Better not to continue whacking the hornet’s nest, right? You can always find other opportunities for that.

With another sigh, and feeling rather bolder than usual, you slip into his lap, allowing him to cage you into his arms as you rest your head on his chest.

“So sweet for me,” he murmurs with a contented sigh. “I feel all special knowing you like me more.”

You say nothing because it isn’t true, and he tightens his hold on you as on the screen, the main character of the movie is just about to encounter their enemy.

It isn’t true. You hate him as much as you hate Geto.

When Geto returns, Gojo still doesn’t make a move or get too handsy. Geto doesn’t seem very in the mood to engage in anything with him, requesting him to get back to that organization he works for or something before they start suspecting things. You don’t know what that’s about but you don’t realize you’re going to find out more than you care to know about it in just a few moments.

“Satoru didn’t do anything with you while I was gone?” Geto inquires as he guides you back to his bedroom.

“No,” you tell him, “He listened to you.”

Geto sighs through his nose as he gestures you to rest on the bed. You follow his silent order, careful not to push any buttons (not yet, anyway). You have noticed that he’s only vulnerable around you, and you don’t know if that’s flattering or not. It almost likes he expects you to be the answer to all of his inner turmoil, and you’re no trained therapist.

Maybe he just wants someone more emotionally available than him or someone like Gojo who seems stinted in more ways than just socially?

“I haven’t been happy with him lately,” he explains, averting his gaze to a far corner of the room. He seems to hold quite a bit of apprehension over something, and you don’t know what it’s about, but maybe if you can find a way to coax it out of him… “Not because of this, not directly, but because he’s been coming here more than he should be. I’m just worried about how that might look for him. I don’t want him to unnecessarily complicate things for himself.”

He disrobes and sets the clothing aside before joining you, securing an arm around your waist.

“Suguru?” you whisper, daring to inch closer to him and resting a comforting hand on his knee. He returns the gesture, resting his hand over yours. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, little dove,” he answers as he pecks the tip of your nose. “These concern matters that are well out of your scope.”

“Okay,” you reply, fretting. They keep saying that shit, but you don’t know what they mean by that. You’re trying to understand more about this weird world you’ve been thrust into because of them. “Is there…um…is there anything I can do for you, darling?”

You resist flinching at how you address him. God, do you loathe it, do you loathe the way it doesn’t sit right in your soul the way you try to keep sucking up to them both. It’s the only way for you to get anything out of this right now and yet…

An adventurous finger brushes over an erect nipple of yours through your bra, making you shudder from the contact.

“Always,” he responds in an eager growl. Impatient hands fumble to unclasp your bra, flinging it behind his back before latching his mouth onto an erect nipple. The action knocks some air out of you, and you cradle his head, stroking your fingers through his long, thick locks of hair.

His fingers massage your stomach as he leans you back into the bed. All you hear is the gushing of your milk and the glorp, glorp, glorp from his eager, desperate slurping. Soon his fingers dare to trail lower, slipping into your panties to rub your clit.

Each brush of his tongue against your nipple sends an unwanted jolt of pleasure through you. Your breathing is broken; the tension in your muscles even seem to relax even though you know you shouldn’t let your guard down. Not around him. Not around the man who has taken everything. 

You find it feels too good. He knows how to make your body feel good and you hate it so much.

If it means he softens up to you a bit more, therefore you might learn more…it might be worth it. Or it might not be worth it. Either way, what else can you do right now? You’re at a complete loss—running into walls. It’s already the dead of winter and you’re still trapped here with no way out. (Not yet, you hope, you still cling onto that hope.) All because of one fucking decision.

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard you draw a bit of blood; he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth with such desperation, such desire, it’s making you feel a strange tingling sensation throughout your entire body. You feel warm everywhere. Something you have never felt before. You can’t tell if it’s a good thing or if it’s a bad thing…and in combination with his fingers drawing lazy patterns around your clit and between your sensitive, gooey folds certainly drenched and overflowing in your fluids…it’s all too much. The air between you feels heady, weighing down with a kind of need you don’t know if you should voice out loud. Because you don’t want it from him.

But what choice do you have right now? You’re absolutely at the palms of his hands.

And he’s literally drinking up every moment of this.

“Suguru…fuck…” your voice pitches higher toward the end of your words and he chuckles, the vibrations around your nipple making you wriggle in his grasp. You find yourself grinding into his fingers for more of that delightful friction, and you can’t believe this, you can’t believe yourself, so desperate for his touch because it’s become familiar to you now and in such a short time frame. How long has it been at this point?

“Mamma,” he growls into your skin. “So good for me. So perfect. Fuck.”

He peppers kisses all over your plump mounds, nipping and biting at any unmarked skin he can find.

“Please, Suguru…” Your legs are on fire. You hate it. You hate it because he’s making you feel helpless, desperate for more. Desperate for…

“Suguru…!” Your orgasm dies as quickly as it washes over you, and you’re still needy.

“Mamma,” he murmurs, tone a bit sultry while twirling the tip of his tongue around your drenched nipple. “Can’t get enough?”

“Fuck me,” you fight back a wince as you say it. “Please…”

His eyes widen in delight. “I knew you’d come around, little dove.”

He doesn’t waste time prepping himself for you. His cock is fully erect, leaking and swelling with need to be inside of you, and after wrapping his size in a condom, he lines his head to your fluttering entrance. You suck in a breath, fingers digging into the silk sheets beneath you.

He finally breaches you, sliding his length inside with ease, cooing at you as you try to will your body to relax. It’s easier to take if you relax. He feels massive, he is massive, and you’re not used to it still.

“That’s it, Mamma. You’re being so good…”

“Suguru…” A hand reaches up to rest on his bare chest, and he grunts in response.

“Good, Mamma,” he purrs, leaning in to kiss you. “Let me make you feel good.”

Each languid roll of his hips sends a wave of that delicious pleasure-pain you could barely replicate on your own. A part of you enjoys the stretch, the slight burn, the way his size brushes against your gummy walls as they desperately clench around him. A part of you, can’t get enough of this either. It’s a horrifying thing to accept, but what does it even matter anymore?

A final plunge and you come, him following shortly thereafter.

He waits for a moment, exhaling softly before he pulls out, disposing of the used condom.

He scoops you into a protective hold.

“Let me take care of you… Mamma.”

Things quiet down again for a little bit. You're seated in the living room on a cushion while Geto is sprawled out on one of the sofas. The girls have been introducing you to a lot of different video game franchies, and their most favorite, you come to learn, is Animal Crossing.

“Come on, Mimiko! This wallpaper will look way better in the living room!” Nanako pouts as they fuss over their shared 3DS.

“But that goes against the whole aesthetic!” Mimiko shoots back, snatching the device out of Nanako’s hands.

“But I like this one!” she whines again, trying to reach for the 3DS but Mimiko keeps it just out of her reach. She pouts again, and Mimiko sticks up her nose as she manipulates the playable character in the game, decorating the space they’ve been arguing about for the last hour or so now.

“Then just save it for another theme we can do once we finish decorating the house!” Mimiko chides, “We kept to the cottage core aesthetic, remember? This one is super grunge and won’t work!”

You smile to yourself at their banter, while you attend to some household work. Geto has seated himself on one of the plush velvet sofas while skimming through a book he’s already read a few times. This is the most normal things can feel in a situation like this.

The twins are on another Animal Crossing: Happy Home Designer high, huffing and puffing at each other because they can’t settle on anything. You’re not one for video games yourself, either, not anymore, so you’re fine and perfectly content with just watching them, occasionally giving your input when they care enough to ask.

Soon you feel the weight of someone sitting next to you on a cushion. He breathes down your neck like a dragon, and you look up to meet stunning violet eyes, shimmering down at you with something akin to affection.

“You seem pleased,” he remarks, trailing a finger up your arm. Yeah, you agree, until he invades your personal bubble. You still maintain a kindred smile.

“I am,” you say, shutting your eyes as he leans in for a quick kiss. “The girls are fun to be around.”

“I’m so glad you think so,” he replies, brushing his finger down your cheek. “I’m glad it looks like you’re finally settling down.”

Not quite, you think. I’m not letting my guard down. I will find a way to fight back.

“Do I make you happy, darling?” you ask, just to butter him up. You don’t give a fuck yourself.

“You make me happiest,” he answers, pecking your lips again.

“Geto,” a voice calls, catching both of you off guard.

Suda enters the room alongside Miguel, who flashes you a glance in recognition. Geto frowns, tossing his head over his shoulder to see what they might want.

“Your presence is requested. There’s been some issues with other members that must be addressed,” Suda explains. Still frowning, Geto rises from his seat with an irritated sigh.

“I’ll be back,” he announces, “Miguel, you keep an eye on them while I’m gone.”

“Fine, fine,” Miguel grunts in response as he retreats to a far corner of the room. Mimiko and Nanako are now fussing over how to decorate another area of their island. Their voices are practically background noise to you while Geto excuses himself to follow Suda.

Once he leaves, you peer curiously at Miguel as he observes you and the girls. You offer a small smile to acknowledge him, but he doesn’t react. Just stands guard, doing what he’s instructed to do with no questions asked or any qualms.

What a mystery of a man. Why does he work for Geto?

Nanako calls your name and your attention averts back to the twins.

“Do you like this color or that color better?” she asks, and giggling, you answer them while you continue to watch them play. Not without still stealing a few curious glances at the silent, strong man just wallowing in the corner. He probably has better things to do than babysit you and the twins, but he does whatever Geto tells him to do because he seems to respect him a great deal. You really wonder why that is.

Frankly because while Geto may be a powerful sorcerer, he’s still a man, and a pathetic one at that if anyone ever found out what he’s forced you into…

Your name is called again and you try to stay in the moment. Better to do that than to dwell. You beam at the twins while they hand the 3DS to you so you can mess around with the character. They do make quite an effort to make you feel like you’re really part of their family, and you can find some comfort in that.

The twins aren’t the problem, not exactly, but their adoptive father sure is.

After some matters have been settled, Geto finds Gojo after leaving you and the twins under Miguel’s guard. It’s becoming a bit rarer now for it to be just the two of them, and Geto’s come to miss these moments. As much as he enjoys spending time with the both of you together, he wants one on one time with Gojo, too.

He does wish Gojo would prioritize himself a little more, though. They’re tangled up in bed together, something familiar, something warm, and Geto wishes things could be simple between them again but when he thinks about it, their world never has been all that simple. They have been both raised to be tools to the world of jujutsu, and Geto will no longer stand for it. Gojo shouldn’t either, but he seems more keen on the idea of raising the next generation of sorcerers so they’re not like the two of them or what’s become of the rest of their classmates.

Their hands are interlocked between them. They just enjoy the stillness during these moments. They rarely get to anymore. Especially not Satoru, what with raising the Zenin brat he chose to adopt for reasons unknown to Geto (other than the fact that he might become a promising sorcerer). Then there’s also the fact that he can’t hang around as long as he should be…

Speaking of which…

“I know you don’t want me to be here so often,” Gojo tells him, breaking the stillness. His voice is tender, soft, as he nuzzles his face into Geto’s chest. “But I just—I don’t want to leave you, okay? I don’t give a damn about those fucking geezers. You know they can’t do anything about this anyway. Only I can.”

“I do want you here,” Geto retorts, cupping his face, fervent lips kissing his and when he pulls away, his gaze bores into Satoru’s. “Don’t misunderstand me, Satoru. I want you here. But you can’t be here so much. I don’t know how you’re juggling your responsibilities between Jujutsu Tech and risking it all to see me. I’m not worth it, Satoru.”

“Don’t say that,” he begs, brushing his fingers through Geto’s hair. “Please don’t say that. You’re more than worth it. You’re worth risking everything for me. Why do you think I’m helping you with her?”

“I know,” he replies with a defeated sigh. “But you have to remember where else you’re needed, Satoru.”

“You’re the most important thing,” he reassures him, kissing all over his face. “Everything else can wait.”

Suguru bites back a groan. “Satoru…”

Satoru visibly deflates as he pulls back.

“I really can’t convince you to come back, huh?”

Suguru shakes his head. He can’t ignore how that seems to upset Gojo; it’s getting to him ore than it should. Maybe Satoru’s right—his resolve isn’t all that unshakable after all. “Going back there would make me undo all the work I’ve done to reject their ways.”

When realization hits, Satoru hums in acknowledgement.

“You don’t actually hate non-sorcerers, do you?” he murmurs, as his eyes cast downward. “It’s all just a coverup for something bigger, isn’t it?”

“No, not quite,” he admits, “But I’ve made my choice.”

Satoru doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s true; Geto has already gone too far to change his mind about anything he’s been doing. Still…there has to be a way around this. There just has to be.

Gojo’s going to find him a way out.

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Perfect - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

A/N: Okay, so I really hope this is good. I based the Reader off myself, so I hope the reactions and frustration are at least somewhat accurate. I also added a little bit of angst. Hope that’s okay

Based on this request

CW: fluff, angst, Reader has AuDHD, Reader is an artist, frustration, anger, perfectionism, pacing as stimming, Logan is a good boyfriend, Reader is called handsome, Reader is his own worst critic, forehead kisses, cheesy ending, soft ending

699 words

“Logan!” You almost jump out of your seat, not expecting to look up and see him standing there.

It’s a habit of his, moving silently. It scares the shit out of you most days. You’ve nearly gotten hurt jumping out of surprise.

Today you just drop your sketch pad, your pencil falling to the floor. You bend down to pick them up, setting them to the side.

“You said you wanted to see me?” Logan quirks an eyebrow, watching you with an expression of vague amusement.

“Oh! Yeah!” You grin up at him. “I wanna draw you.”

He blinks and tilts his head a little. “What?”

You nod eagerly and get up, pacing a little. “I saw an art challenge online about drawing something you love. So I want to draw you.”

He snorts, watching you move about the room. “You’re fucking cheesy, you know that?”

You give him your best puppy eyes. After a moment, he lets out a sigh. “Fine. But I’m not wearing a shirt for it.”

You hesitate for only a moment before agreeing. It’ll be fine. You’re great at drawing. This’ll be a piece of cake.

You’re on your fourth attempt and it’s only getting worse. You don’t know why, but you just can’t get the shape of his stomach right. No matter what angle or line you use, it looks… odd.

You exhale in frustration, feeling overwhelmed. You’ve never struggled so much before. Why now? Why now? Why with Logan?

“Hey, hey.” He crouches next to you, resting a hand on your thigh. “Calm down. Just breathe, alright? It’s just a drawing.”

“It’s not!” You don’t mean to snap, but the frustration feels endless. “It’s a drawing of you! It had to be perfect!”

You get up out of your chair and stalk about the room, clenching and unclenching your fists. Tapping them angrily against your sides. “I’ve done this like a million times before! Why not now?”

Logan watches you for a moment. Then he picks up one of your abandoned sketches and smoothes it out. “This one looks pretty good to me.”

You barely glance over. “It’s not good enough.”

He frowns.”It’s good enough for me. I like it a lot. Especially the way you draw my eyes.”

That gives you pause. You stop your angry pacing and turn to look. He holds up the drawing for you to see. If you ignore the stomach and the unfinished arm… you guess he has a point. You did capture his eyes well… and his shoulders. Those were hard.

You cross your arms, giving yourself a moment of sulking before you sigh and relent. You hate fighting with Logan and you don’t want to start arguing over something he genuinely seems to like. Even if it’s not perfect.

With a soft grumble, you walk over and tuck yourself into his side. Wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into him. It helps soothe the last of your frustration. Calming the burning restlessness in your limbs, even just a little.

He rests an arm around you, still studying the drawing. You eye it with a light glare, but hold back from commenting on everything wrong with the drawing.

“It’s perfect,” Logan says, finally. “My favorite.”

You blink up at him. His… favorite? Out of all your drawings, this is his favorite? “Wh— Why?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs. “I just love it.”

You think it’s absolutely ridiculous he doesn’t have a reason, but you don’t say that aloud. Instead you just nod. “Alright.”

He gives your side a soft squeeze. “You good now, handsome?”

You roll your eyes at the nickname but nod. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because it’s my turn now. I’m drawing you.”

You fake a groan of protest, but willingly head over to the couch. “I expect a full scale portrait. Complete with horses and a golden chariot.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll do my best. Just sit down.”

You grin as you sit. Maybe your drawings didn’t turn out perfect, but your boyfriend certainly did. Maybe not for anyone else, but perfect for you. And you wouldn’t want him any other way.

Logan Howlett Taglist: @yhlqmdlg @alekkkkssss