#even side by side i had to split the movement in two

[enwoso]

Possibly leah can propose to alessia, and get lovie involved or leah moves in permanently and lovie only wants to sleep with them. Hope the writers block goes away

SLEEP SCARES — alessia russo x leah williamson x child!reader

i’m back! well sort of-

just a quick lil something as i feel as though i’ve lowkey forgotten about yall. but i promise it’s with good reason, life’s been busy and i’m on holiday rn but im hoping when i get home i can get back to normal and start to get some more fic/blurbs out for you all🙃

grumpy masterlist

as a baby and as you grew that little bit older, alessia could generally say she had been quite lucky with how easy it was for you to get to sleep.

she had never really had any issues with you waking up during the night — of course there had been the odd occasion when you’d been poorly but other than that, you liked sleeping in your own bed.

however, ever since your little mind had discovered the secret of your mummy and leah and the fact they were more than friends. your bed and room wasn’t as comfy and cool anymore. you instead now wanted to be in your mummy’s bed watching whatever silly adult show was showing on the tv sneaking a few sweets which you really shouldn’t be having after brushing your teeth.

this cycle had occurred more often when leah was staying the night, “how long do you think it’ll be until lovie’s wondering through the door?” alessia whispered as the two were lying tangled together in bed, the only light coming from the tv which was on a low hum.

“hm i’d give it at least thirty minutes” leah rasped out as she ran a hand through alessia’s hair, alessia humming in response, sinking deeper into leah’s arms.

the two knew that there time together wouldn’t last long until you were tip toeing sleepily into the room with your elephant under your arm as your eyes were filled with sleep.

alessia and leah had dosed off, the tv playing adverts as the door creeped open. you tip toeing so lightly, as you climbed into the bed from the bottom. sinking yourself inbetween the two.

alessia feeling the movement, as her eyes opened slightly. “lovie? what you doing?” your mummy questioned as she sleepily yawned, moving a little from leah’s warmth. you sat in the middle of the bed on your knees, a sleepy look on your face.

“can’t sleep, there noises in my room” you pouted as your shoulders sunk down. a flash of worry came across alessia’s face as her brow furrowed downwards slightly.

“what do you mean noises?” alessia asked as she sat up, her back resting against the headboard of her bed reaching over to turn on the side lamp. moving with much caution hoping not to wake the sleeping blonde beside her. knowing the grumpy mood she would wake in if she was woken up from her slumber.

are you sure it’s not just the wind?” alessia pushed more knowing sometimes the sound of the wind can sometimes make some scary noises.

you shrugged, a small yawn falling from your lips. “i sleep in here” you cutely asked, your eyes forming a pleading look as a small sigh came from your mummy’s lips.

“do you not want mummy to come and lie in your bed with you?” she asked, hopeful that would be the best solution. but you shook your head, the bed slightly shaking as you did so.

alessia surrendering as she whispered out a yes, not wanting the hassle of trying to coax you back into your own bed as admittedly she just wanted to get back to sleep herself.

your mummy moving slightly to make a small gap in the bed for you to lie in as a small smug smile of victory flashed across your lips as you flopped into bed. your mummy placing a kiss to your cheek as she whispered good night in your ear, circling small shapes on your back.

it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep as your chest started to rise slower indicating you had fell asleep, alessia still tracing shapes on your back as she noticed leah starting to move around.

leah’s eyes opening for a split second before they closed but even through the darkness alessia never missed the small smile which was on her lips.

“at least it was longer than the thirty minutes we thought” leah whispered out as a quiet chuckle left alessia’s lips.

[yan-randomfandom]

Jinx x GN!Thief!Reader

getting chased by your victims—the people you stole from—you stumble into one of the most iconic figure in Zaun. wait, what the fuck—is that Jinx??

→ one shot, first meeting, violence, flirtatious MC 😭

🔵 ; act 3 js stabbed me btw

"Holy shit!! Move away! Move away, move away!!"

Before Jinx can even blink, she's slammed to the ground with tangling limbs. A choked groan escapes her lips as she quickly looks up to see you. Intense blue eyes deliriously captures all of your attention.

You stare back at her, eyes widening.

"...You're gorgeous," you blurt.

Her eyes narrow in a split second. Without warning, you swiftly rise to your feet and start running away. A few more thumping sounds follow, but Jinx is too fixated to watch your retreating figure.

"And I'm sooorrrrryyyyyyyy—!!" you yell, your voice growing fainter and fainter.

Jinx stands up.

A clicking sound stops her from moving. Something is pressed against her back.

"You an apprentice?" a gruff voice asks. The object—she guesses it's a gun—digs further into her top.

She sighs.

Turns around so fast they couldn't even react.

Her hand is raised. Fingers readily posed for a trigger.

...

Wait.

Where in the absolute fuck is her gun?

She drops her empty hand and taps on her pockets, feeling within. Empty. Empty. Empty.

Oh, shit. You didn't apologize for falling onto her.

The three massive men exchange confused looks. One shrugs and nudges the other. About to do a move, a long groan suddenly rings out.

Jinx pulls under her eyes in frustration. "God. You people are amateurs!"

She's already out of there. Her feet are running through the ground. Light, swift, and desperate. Inhumanly fast. The polluted breeze hits her face. How the hell did you do that? Right under her fucking nose.

Granted, she can always make another handgun and earn more money—but you had the blue crystals.

It's not like she'll have a hard time finding you, anyway.

You left trails of your muddy steps.

"There she is!"

A sharp exhale.

In one lucky move, Jinx manages to knock out all of the offenders. They all come crashing down on top of each other. Thank God for that loose pole.

There. She got rid of the nuisances. Turning, she prepares her heel—

"Woah."

You whistle loudly. Jinx snaps her head toward your direction. Just sitting above the rooftop apartments. "Gotta say, you're amazin', lady."

With a tilt of her head, she stares immensely at the weapon in your grasp. You handle it poorly by holding the tip with two fingers. Almost like it's worthless junk.

" ... That's mine," says Jinx.

"Yours?" you imitate her action, cocking your head to the side. Your lips pull a teasing smile. "Lowkey sounds hot. Can I be yours, too?"

She studies your face for a moment before a smirk of her own shows up. "Sure can. But my attractiveness kills people. Just gimme back my stuff, will ya?"

You laugh, humming, taking your sweet time to study her weapons. The blue glow in particular has your half-hearted attention. "Y'know, I've never seen anythin' like this before."

"Hah," Jinx crosses her arms, her grin widening. "Course ya didn't. I made it. Consider it an honor you even got to touch it, let alone look at it."

You pause at her words. Then take another look at the gun.

"You made this?" you say incredulously, an eyebrow arching. "Huh. That sounds a lot like somethin' Jinx would do."

Slight movement next to you. You turn, freezing at the sight of the bluenette sitting beside you.

She takes the chance to casually take the gun from your hand. There's an unimpressed look on her face.

"Guess what?"

You stare back, chuckling sheepishly. How is it that you've worked for Silco himself a few times, but have never met Jinx before?

" ... At least I'll die at the hands of a beautiful woman."

Jinx slaps your head. You let out a small cry, rubbing the sore spot. "I know who you are, moron. Silco's looking for you."

"Oh," you mutter, digging into your bag. "I should, uh, probably give your wallet back too."

🩵

I WANTED THIS TO BE MORE... hang on-- also my bad if reader sounds like a creep i swear that isnt my intention 😭 lemme know tho

"I won't complain if you explode me here rn,, heh..."

"dude shut the fuck up i said im sparing you"

"I bet you're real impressed by my swiping skills tho"

"honestly? yeah sure"

[orphiclovers]

Thinking about Underground Killer by Lee Sookyung again.

The most obvious place to start is at it's compariosn to Notes from the Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Now I haven't read it and I'm not yet crazy enough to read a book just to be able to write a better orv meta (I mean I could. it's 22k words it isn't that long) but I DID read the sparknotes summary so I can make surface level comparison... but take everything I say about NFTU with a grain of salt as I'll be interpreting it creatively to fit ORV's narrative LOL

NFTU is split in two parts. The first part is a collection of notes from a lonely, misanthropic 40 something man full of self hate who feels paralyzed by inaction, overcome by inertia, unable to make a single decision about his own life. He is totally alienated from society and figuratively "underground"

I can see a fucked up inversion of Lee Sookyung's story here. Women in abusive marriages often struggle to leave for years and even decades, paralyzed by fear and learned helpnessness into not making a single decision. Underground Killer could be about her marriage to Dokja’s father and her life during that period, struggling with the desire to escape and her own fear. NFTU critises russian society - UK must have criticized the korean society that allows women to be abused this way.

But unlike the narrator of NFTU she DID make a decision in the end, she did something that required tremendous willpower- she killed her husband. Well, that's what she wrote in the book anyway.

I think Underground Killer must have been a story of how an intelligent woman could be driven to murder (providing an in depth motive so no one suspects she didn't, I suppose) and clearly it felt real. As this candid look into domestic violence's toll shook the country enough to inspire positive change in legislation. How did that happen? I assume it sparked some manner of protests and outrage and became a symbol of the feminist movement (since in no reality would it be the MEN pushing for a change in law to protect women's rights. be so fr).

It must have been a polarizing and controversial topic where everyone had their own take. I'm thinking what the reactions were.

Like I said, the women were mostly on Sookyung's side as they probably saw her actions as brave and inspirational. I'm thinking men absolutely hated it due to it's criticism of patriarchy and the feminist themes. Media at large was enchanted by the spectacle of it all and milked it for all it's worth. Kim Dokja’s peers were too young to care about the Adult thing everyone is talking about on TV at the time it came out.

Later, in high school it was the most fucked up version of "your mom" jokes possible and "don't look at kim dokja too long, or he's gonna snap and kill everyone haha"

At Minosoft it was "Kim Dokja...? Wait that Kim Dokja from that thing on TV a while ago? The son of that woman?" Just gossip.

People like Sagah who don't listen to gossip but read are vaugely familiar with it as a famous book a while ago

Then the apocalypse happens and it is irrelevant to anyone who isn't kim dokja

[bbstastycake]

his smile captured you. it was warm…familiar, and for whatever reason, looked like it was hiding something.

pt. 1

his eyes—the kind that seem to have seen all the world has to offer: the good, the bad, the ugly—hold yours for a moment longer than expected. it’s like you’ve momentarily caught a glimpse of something deeper, something that shouldn’t be there but is, anyway. eren shifts slightly, the smallest movement, just enough to let his otherwise perfect poker face falter.

damn, that’s a hell of a poker face.

“not much to say, really. i’m honestly pretty boring,” he mutters, almost dismissively, before continuing with a few generic answers to the questions you ask, as if he’s running through a script. as time passes, though, you notice he’s starting to loosen up, just a little—his words become less clipped, his tone more relaxed. but his guard? still firmly in place. always.

when his gaze shifts toward you, it lingers for a split second longer than necessary—just long enough for you to catch the subtle shift in his expression. his lips curl up at the corner, his eyes flicking down your body before returning to your face. it’s quick, almost imperceptible, but it makes your cheeks flush before you can stop it. you glance at your phone, pretending you didn’t notice, but in reality, you’re keenly aware of the notifications lighting up your screen—missed calls, messages from your friends checking in, wondering if you’re okay.

you snap your phone shut again, the cool glass meeting your palm with a soft thud. the time catches your eye, and you can’t help but frown. “it’s getting late, isn’t it? wouldn’t want the restaurant to kick us out.”

the words are meant to be light, casual, but you can’t stop the tiniest pang of disappointment from creeping into your voice. before you can disguise it, your lips curve downward into a reluctant pout.

eren catches it, and his eyes soften. “hey, don’t look like that, pretty girl. i had a good time too. if i didn’t have business to handle in the morning, i would’ve shown you an even better time...” he trails off, his cheeks flushing just a shade darker, and you realize—he’s drunk.

how cute.

you can’t help but laugh softly, rolling your eyes playfully at his tipsy rambling. “yeah, yeah. let’s get you home, princess.”

despite your protests, he insists on paying your bill and escorts you outside. you pull up your uber app, already halfway through ordering the ride when eren steps off to the side to take a call. as soon as his conversation wraps up, he’s back by your side, and you’re hit with the sudden realization of just how much you’ve had to drink. the cool night air feels like a relief against your flushed skin, and the silence between you two feels strangely comfortable.

you glance over at him, noticing the way the moonlight paints his features—sharp jawline, tousled hair, the way his eyes glint, like they’re holding something back, something you can’t quite place. you watch him for a second too long, and he catches your gaze, his lips curling into a playful smirk.

“don’t look too long, pretty,” he warns, his voice low and teasing. “you might fall in love.”

that smile—God, it could light up the night sky. you swallow hard, your heart giving an unexpected flutter, and before you know it, your hands are already reaching out to him, instinctively placing them on his chest. the air between you both seems to thicken as you lean in, drawn to him in a way you can’t explain.

it feels like an eternity of suspended longing before he finally meets you halfway. the space between your lips is almost unbearable, but when your noses brush just slightly, and then his lips meet yours, it’s like a gentle wave, soft and fleeting. it’s so tender, you almost think you imagined it.

but then, with his hands finding your hips, he pulls you in just a little closer. his kiss deepens, and the heat rises in your chest. still, there’s hesitation—he pulls back, just slightly, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.

“i think your ride is here, mama,” he mutters softly, a trace of regret in his voice.

you turn to look, your heart sinking a little at the sight of the waiting uber. "a-and you're sure you don't wanna come?" you try again, a quiet, uncertain edge in your voice. “it’s the least i could do since you helped me out earlier.”

he lets out a breath, his gaze flickering with internal conflict. for a moment, it looks like he might change his mind, but then he shakes his head slightly, his lips curving into a wry smile. “i don’t think i’d be able to hold myself back.”

the disappointment in your chest sharpens, but you nod, whispering a quiet "okay" as you step back toward the uber. he holds the door open for you, the gesture so simple, but somehow it feels like the end of something unspoken.

"thanks again," you murmur, one last time, before the door clicks shut behind you.

through the tinted glass, you catch eren's lips moving—probably saying something you can't quite catch. his words are muffled, but his gaze holds steady, like a silent goodbye that’s somehow heavier than it should be. the uber pulls away, and you can't help but wonder if that was the last time you'd see him... or if that was only the beginning of something you’re not sure you’re ready for.

[delicatepointofview]

GET INTO IT

[suncoved]

RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?

prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”

you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.

kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.

but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.

you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.

sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.

but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.

you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.

and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.

beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.

"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.

you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.

"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."

your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.

he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.

you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.

you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"

your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.

"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.

you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.

you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.

honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.

though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.

he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.

it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.

there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.

yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.

"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.

he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"

you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.

"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.

"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.

you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.

you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.

he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.

you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.

your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.

rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.

he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.

"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.

"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.

"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.

it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.

"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.

a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.

rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.

you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.

you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.

"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.

"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.

"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.

"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.

"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.

rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.

“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"

[sttoru]

your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.

you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.

“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.

satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.

the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.

“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”

satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.

you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.

he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.

satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.

“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.

it was perfect. all of you was perfect.

your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.

the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.

“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.

neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.

the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.

however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.

his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.

“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”

you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.

“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.

satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.

over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.

“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.

until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.

“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”

satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.

he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.

“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.

the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”

you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.

“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.

you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.

you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.

“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.

the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.

as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.

[dollfacefantasy]

dig your claws right into me ♡

logan howlett x fem!reader

logan hurts you when he has a nightmare. now you both have to deal with the fallout.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, descriptions of nightmare, injury, and blood

a/n: reader is a mutant but i didn't specify her powers so you can imagine what you want. just some sickly sweet intimacy cause that's what i was feeling tonight <3

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The words come out whispered as Logan's lips press against the three tiny bumps of developing scar tissue on your abdomen.

"I already told you that you don't have to be sorry," you say. Your voice drifts into the space between the two of you as soft as the movements of your fingers running through his hair.

"Well I am, bub. You should want me to be."

Each one of his hands rests upon either side of your waist. His fingers squish against your flesh while his eyes stare at the scars on your belly. He gazes at them like the small marks, all equidistant from one another, could be willed away by his harsh look. He hated the fact that they were there at all. Even worse, that he was the one who gave them to you.

"But it was an accident," you respond, giving one of the tufts of his hair a gentle tug.

His dark pupils flit up to look at your face. "Doesn't matter. It being an accident doesn't change the fact that you're gonna have these marks forever. I wouldn't care that it was accidental if I'd killed you."

He remembers the night it happened that seemed like a real possibility.

His light sleep had been interrupted by a nightmare. Over the time that had passed between then and now, it'd become indistinct from all the others he experiences regularly. The only difference between that one and the ones he'd had since he'd started sleeping next to you each night was the intensity. That night had been rough. Normally when he slept in your room, he seemed to be able to tone it down. Almost as if his brain knew to not act up while your relationship was still starting to blossom.

But two weeks ago, his mind didn't care. It flash-banged him with the usual images of himself in that tank. The searing, splitting pain of the adamantium attaching itself to his bones.

Usually, if he had a nightmare beside you, he'd grunt and twitch, maybe shift around a little. That night though, you got to see the whole performance. The tossing and turning, sweating and moaning, tense limbs and scrunched up face.

Poor, sweet, innocent you thought that you could just wake him up. Your hands nudged at his bicep and shoulder as you gently cooed "Logan. It's just a dream."

In the end, your tenderness didn't matter. When he actually came to, your anguished cry was all that registered. And then he felt the sharp heat between his knuckles that meant the claws were out. His heart dropped and his vision nearly blacked out. He couldn't have.

He retracted them as quickly as they'd appeared and pulled back to look at you. Crimson flooded the gray t-shirt you'd worn to bed. The three little spots spread into large blooms of scarlet. Your hands flew to the spot to clutch at it, but they did nothing to stop the warm liquid from spilling out.

"No, no, no, fuck," he'd whispered frantically as his mind raced for a solution.

Your cries morphed into whimpers. Soft and vulnerable. Like a prey animal that'd been fatally wounded but not put out of its misery. Blood seeped out onto your bedding, and it was then that he rocketed off the mattress and scooped you up into his arms.

Fortunately, Scott, Jean, and Storm were already outside the door in the hall, having heard the scream. A gathering of students lingered behind them as well. Shame coursed through his veins, albeit dulled by the panic. He remembered thinking it was stupid, but after the adrenaline left his system, it was the dominant emotion he was left with. Ashamed was the only word that could describe holding the knowledge that everyone here now saw he was capable of hurting the woman he loves. Maybe he was no better than an animal.

In truth, shame was all he felt now. So much relief settled over him since you'd made it out alive. Thanks to the enhanced physical capabilities from your mutation and Jean's adequate medical skills, these scars would be the only lasting effect of the wounds.

He'd rushed you down to the infirmary faster than he'd ever moved in a non-combat situation. His feet thundered down the stairs, a part of him withering to ash with each little whimper you let out as the motion jostled your body around.

"I'm sorry, bub. Almost there. We're almost there. You're gonna be ok," he'd mumbled out thoughtlessly, saying anything he could that would bring you even a shred of comfort.

He kept your hand in his the entire time you were down there on the cold examination table. His grip stayed firm. He wouldn't let the anxiety over your well being consume him. This was his fault, and now you needed him. He didn't get to be worried or upset or anything that wasn't in support of you.

When you howled in pain, he winced as if he was the one being treated. You cried for him, choking out "Logan" through tears over and over. It tore him apart inside. All he could do to soothe you was stroke your cheek and murmur reassurances in your ear.

"Shh, shh, shh. You're doing so good, baby. My strong girl. Being so brave."

He usually reserved affection for private moments, but in those painful seconds, it felt like you two were the only ones in the room.

These thoughts running through his head display across his face. The way his cheek squishes against your tummy and his eyes vacantly stare at the wall opposite his bed. You told him the next day that everything transformed into a blur in your mind. You remembered the feeling of being stabbed and the sight of him panicking, but beyond that nothing specific stayed. You knew he held you and talked to you even though you couldn't recall an individual thing he said or did.

That was fine with him. He listened to you tell the story from your perspective. You spoke with your normal cadence, the usual happy glow in your eyes, and the same animated gestures coming from your hands. His eyes lingered on your torso though. The bandages peeking out from underneath your clean camisole he'd changed you into.

Every last detail of the incident was etched into the deepest part of his psyche. Most likely stored away as material for future nightmares. As much as he hated it, he figured that's the way it should be. He didn't deserve the peace that comes with forgetting.

For the first week after it'd happened, he wouldn't sleep with you. He'd stay with you, cuddled against your body, until you drifted off. Then he'd get up and skulk back to his own room, leaving you cold and alone on your bed.

Eventually after a few more days, you got him to try it out again, but he'd only do it in his own room. It was hard for him to be in yours. New sheets covered your foamy mattress now since the blood wouldn't wash out of the old set. Each brush of the novel material against his skin was just a rose-printed reminder of what he'd done to you.

He's snapped out of his recollection when your voice returns to the original conversation.

"None of that stuff happened though. You didn't kill me, and you're not going to. I'll be more careful next time," you break the silence with a gentle reassurance.

Next time. That's what hurts the worst. You knew this would happen again. You'd promised that when it did you wouldn't try to wake him. Wouldn't touch him or do anything that could set him off. Just give him his space and let him work through it.

"I don't even want you worrying about being careful when you're trying to sleep," he grumbles.

Your nails scrape over his scalp, making his eyes flutter. A deep sigh leaves him. As much as he hated himself for all of this, he could never help easing up under your touch.

"You're worth it."

Three words you said so often. He never believed them, but that didn't stop you from repeating them like a slogan. Instead of arguing with you over the validity of the statement, he stays silent. Replaces any verbal response with a physical one by nuzzling into the warmth of your stomach and laying kisses around your navel.

You watch the affectionate gesture and trail your fingers down to the nape of his neck, massaging the tender skin there.

"You are," you whisper, "One mistake doesn't define you. Doesn't change how I see you."

"It's not just a simple mistake-" he starts.

"Yes it is," you interject, trying to nip his self doubt in the bud.

"It's not. It's not like I forgot your birthday or left my wallet behind when taking you out."

"It's still an accident. The severity doesn't change the intention. Would you hate me if my powers acted up and hurt you?"

God, you could be just as stubborn as him. It grated on his already frayed nerves. He shifts to look up at you fully. And some of that building tension dissolves upon seeing the earnest look on your face.

"It's not the same. Anything you did to me, I would heal," he says.

"I'm healing too. I'm just not as fast as you," you respond. You actually smile as if this is some lighthearted matter. Of course you knew it wasn't the same. You presented no danger to him whereas if he'd nicked you an inch to the left, he might be talking to your headstone right now instead of you. That wasn't the point though.

He shakes his head. "It's different, bub. But I'm not even saying you should hate me..." 

In truth, he didn't know what he was saying. If he wanted you to hate him or stay away from him, he could be the one to break things off. But he was still right here, arms wrapped around you and head hovering inches away from your body.

"I just think you should be more cautious than you're being," he finishes, "I don't want you to think you have to put up with this."

You frown and pet his hair. "I don't think that."

"I'm not trying to lecture you, baby," he sighs, "I just don't want to hurt you again."

He could certainly flaunt a pair of puppy eyes when he wanted to. The way he was looking up at you now made him seem so sad and wounded. Like a dog who can't control when he bites but gets kicked aside for it all the same.

"You're not going to. We'll be careful. It was an accident," you say, tone almost pleading, "You're still my Logan."

To go along with your words, you pull on one of his arms, beckoning him closer. He complies with your request and scales your body so that the two of you are aligned. You stare up into his eyes and the whirlpools of emotion within them. Your hand lands on his cheek, your thumb stroking back and forth in small swipes.

"I'm not gonna let you pull away cause of this," you whisper, "It wasn't your fault. You don't choose to have those dreams."

You can tell he wants to argue, but he struggles to find the words. Indirectly cutting him off, you guide his head closer to yours. His face slots against the crook of your neck, and yours does the same in his. You nuzzle him there, breathing in the rich, musky scent of him.

"You're not wrong for wanting to be happy. You don't deserve to be alone," you say and kiss below his ear.

The words make him ache from within. His metal bones vibrate with the weight of possibility of that being true while his heartbeat feels as though it stutters between his ribs. He wants to huff and say that he knows, that he doesn't need you psychoanalyzing him, thank you very much. But none of that will come out. So instead he chuckles. He tries to make it sound smooth; although, the awkwardness is apparent in each bit.

He pulls back a little and smirks down at you. "So you think I'm cut out for being gentle? Is that it?"

You know what he's doing. As closed off as he tries to be, you don't need telepathy to sense what he's feeling. You let him play it off with a joke though. If he's joking, he's not drowning in self-pity, which is all you want.

"Mhm, I know you are," you say and nose at his cheek, kissing the spot on it without facial hair, "You may have claws, but you purr like a kitten when I have my hands on you."

His eyes roll when you say that. He leans down and begins to return some of your loving gestures.

"Don't go telling people that. It's only for you," he murmurs.

"Of course, of course," you say with the same subtle playfulness.

Words die out in favor of using your mouths for better things. The kisses are lazy, built more off of love and adoration rather than lust and passion. One of your arms loops over his shoulders to keep him close while your other rubs at his side. The tip of his nose brushes your earlobe as he lowers to kiss down your throat.

His lips meet your pulse point and the divots in your neck that make you shudder when touched. He's familiar with all your secret spots by now. He plays you better than any instrument. His breath fans over your skin as his teeth scrape against the same flesh. His hands work below, squeezing your waist, fingertips leaving little bumps in their wake.

The hand of yours that had been on his side drifts further down and wiggles its way between your two bodies. Your digits stroke his pelvis above the area his cock would soon begin to harden.

A groan reverberates through his chest as his shaft rises to attention. From this angle, the pads of your fingers can reach the tip. You rub on it with light pressure, up and down. That gets him to repeat the groan, only this time the undertone of need is more prominent.

His lips latch onto your neck to work a little mark onto your skin while he pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down his thighs. You were only wearing a cropped t-shirt and panties, already easily accessible.

He nudges your thighs apart further and grinds his bulge over your mound. The heat from both your aching centers grows hotter with the friction. Arching your back off the bed, you whimper softly for further satisfaction. He presses you back down using his larger stature.

"Patience, sweetheart. Being gentle, remember?"

He only teases you with a few more grinds of his hips before his boxers vanish too and his heavy cock rests against the soft fabric of your panties. You feel the familiar thickness at first. Then his fingers swoop down and pull your panties to the side so he can slot the drippy tip against your folds. Precum smears against your slick, velvety skin.

Seconds later he splits you open. He bites his lip while you whine, his fat cock pushing further into your wanting hole. You squeeze around him. Your walls clamp and contract on his length. It doesn't push him out, merely sucks him further in. He chokes out a low moan from how tight you get.

So tight and so wet. Arousal oozes from you in no short supply. It didn't take much to get you going for Logan. A few touches alone had you leaking like a broken faucet. You whimper as he bottoms out, hips jerking as the head taps your cervix. He always gets so deep it's nearly unbearable. Even when he's going slow like he is now, he's all you can think of. He fills you up down there and occupies all the space in your head.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks.

You nod, unable to respond verbally as you adjust to the intrusion. 

He doesn't give you a prolonged period of time to adapt right now. Normally he would, but most other times, he'd be going much faster than he plans to at this moment. Typically, he'd let you get comfy with the stretch before drawing his hips back and then pumping them forward again. He'd slam in and out of you. It'd be loud with the sound of skin clapping combined with your moans and his growls. It'd be rough and quick. The bed would shake and bobble around with the force of him.

But tonight, none of that happens. He barely even pulls out to thrust. He stays nice and deep, grinding his hips rather than fucking himself in and out of you. You whine in sweet stretches of sound. He sighs and grunts against your neck. Neither of you sound like feral animals going into heat.

You loved when you fucked like that, but right now, both of you needed this. Each roll of his hips felt like a stroke of heaven brushing your insides. Your limbs curl around him tighter to keep him close. Your arms guard his neck while your legs dig into his hips. He's so lost in the feeling of you, he can't even tell where he ends and you begin.

"Tell me how it feels. Need to hear you. Wanna know I'm doing it how you need," he mumbles.

"Feels perfect," you whimper in return, "So fuckin' deep."

"Good. I only ever wanna make you feel good."

You nod, knowing it's the truth. "Anyone can hurt me, but only you know how to make me feel like this."

His eyes scrunch up at your words. He just feels lucky he has his face buried against your skin so you can't see. It had been just what he needed to hear. Boosting himself onto his knees a bit more to gain some leverage, he grips your hips and ruts against you with the slightest bit more force.

You whine at the soothing rhythm in which your bodies rock. The sense of satisfaction brought on from this took root in the deepest pit of your belly. You weren't gonna explode like you often did. Probably wouldn't scream or scratch up his back. But you could tell you were gonna cum hard.

Without saying it, he communicates he feels the same. His lack of usual dirty talk tells you everything you need to know. His cock stays nestled deep inside your pussy as he works you both to the edge. His face remains flush against your neck.

You cum first, and he follows right behind. You tighten up, toes curling and a high mewl echoing out of your throat. Your body shivers. He spills his release inside of you, his energy leaving with the sticky ropes of cum that fire.

He goes boneless on top of you, still cherishing the feeling of your skin on his. His breaths feel cool against your sweating skin.

"My baby," he sighs. His eyes flutter shut. He knows he has to pull out before he knocks out for a while, but he can do that in a second. He just needs a few more minutes of this.

You press a few kisses to the side of his head and rub his back. His hand slides between both your abdomen to touch the scars, reminding himself what he's capable of despite his current tenderness.

After a few moments, he pulls out and slumps to the side of you. You peck his lips and take the acquisition of space as a way to cool off. His eyes are drooping already. It feels good seeing him so relaxed. You kiss the space between his brows, then the bridge of his knows, and end on his lips.

"Sweet dreams," you whisper, wishing that would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay. At least for tonight.

[tetragonia]

Please Don't be Afraid of Me

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Arguing with Rafe is your daily meal, but this time he almost did something that could break you for life.

warning: mentions of (Y/N)'s father being abusive, toxic relationship, Rafe almost going a bit aggressive, trauma, no mention of (Y/N)

note: I really need a good angst and why not write one myself? I hope this one hurts you as bad as it hurts me :')

words: 800+

The air between you and Rafe crackled with tension, the argument escalating faster than either of you had intended. You both were standing near the docks, voices rising, cutting through the quiet night. Your frustration had been simmering for days, ever since you caught wind of some of Rafe’s shady behavior again—money missing, deals going wrong. You had confronted him, and it spiraled from there.

“You think you can just keep pulling this crap, Rafe? You think nobody notices what you're doing?” your voice was sharp, each word laced with anger. What you two have was toxic, you knew deep down. But somehow it was very rewarding, all those kisses and makeups you two would do after an argument.

But this one was different.

“Don’t act like you know me,” Rafe shot back, his jaw clenched. “You don’t know half the things I’m dealing with.”

“Then tell me!” you snapped, stepping closer, eyes blazing. “But no, you’d rather lie, cheat, and then act like the world owes you something!”

Rafe's temper flared, his hand instinctively raising mid-argument, more out of frustration than intent. But the movement—sudden, aggressive—made you freeze.

You body reacted before your mind could catch up. You flinched, taking an instinctive step back, your eyes widening in a flicker of fear. In that split second, Rafe’s hand hovered mid-air, his anger dissolving as guilt crashed into him.

He hadn’t meant to do it. He hadn’t even realized how much his action mirrored something... darker, something that triggered a deep-seated fear in you. But seeing you flinch, seeing you step back from him, it hit him like a wave of cold reality.

“Baby, wait—” Rafe dropped his hand instantly, his voice softer, filled with an unfamiliar urgency. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were suddenly wide with regret.

He took a cautious step forward, but you moved back again, your breath shallow, still caught in the reflex of fear.

“I’m not him,” Rafe said, his voice low, almost pleading. “I’m not your father.”

Your chest tightened, the comparison too raw, too close to home. You blinked, fighting back the tears that were threatening to surface. Your heart pounded in her ears, but Rafe didn’t move again. He stood there, watching you, a rare vulnerability in his expression.

“I wasn’t going to—” he stammered, rubbing his hand through his hair. “I’d never... hurt you.”

You didn’t say anything, still processing the way your body had reacted, how automatic the fear was, how much he reminded you of the volatile moments with your dad—moments you spent years trying to forget.

Rafe took another step forward, more cautiously this time, his movements slower, gentler. “You...” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean—”

You couldn’t look at him directly, your mind torn between the image of Rafe you knew and the shadows of the past that haunted you. The tension in the air had shifted, no longer angry but filled with a raw, uncomfortable truth.

He reached out again, but this time there was no threat in his gesture. His hand hovered near you, waiting, offering. “Please don’t be afraid of me.”

You’s heart thudded painfully in your chest, your breathing still uneven. You swallowed, glancing at his hand. You hated yourself for flinching earlier, for letting him see that side of you, but you couldn’t deny that he had triggered something deep. Something you weren’t ready to confront.

Still, there was something in his voice, in the way he had softened so suddenly, that made you hesitate. Rafe wasn’t the man you had grown up fearing, wasn’t the man who left you with scars both seen and unseen. He was a mess, yes, but this... this was different.

Slowly, tentatively, you took a small step toward him, meeting his gaze. You saw the guilt there, the sincerity. The storm in your head started to calm, just slightly.

Rafe didn’t move again, letting you come to him at your own pace. His hand was still there, waiting. And when you finally closed the gap between them, you let out a shaky breath. You didn’t flinch this time as his hand gently touched your arm, his grip soft, reassuring.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice breaking through the quiet.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to steady yourself. “Just... don’t ever do that again,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, but firm.

“I won’t,” Rafe promised, his thumb brushing against your skin lightly. His touch was tender, so unlike the rough edges of his usual self.

For a moment, neither of them moved. They stood there in the quiet, the intensity of the argument fading into something neither of them had words for. You’s heart was still racing, but not out of fear now. It was something else. Something unfamiliar, something you weren’t sure you could handle.

But as Rafe stood close, his touch warm and steady, you realized that you didn’t want to step back anymore.

[writersdrug]

My brain is open to your bartender Ghost thoughts

Give me them all 🙏

Lordy this au isn't even an hour old and I have so many thoughts

He doesn't really know what to expect when you come in the morning after the interview. At eight am sharp, he watches as you trudge inside, wearing ripped tights, shorts, knock off combat boots, and a baggy shirt that's messily tucked into your waistline. It looks like you had put on eye liner last night and gone to bed, black lines smudged in a perfect "bedhead" look.

"Really?" He asks, arms folded and muscles buddging. "Come t' the interview in a skirt 'n dress shirt, n' show up t' the first shift lookin' like a wannabe biker chick?"

You scoff, pulling your hair up into a bun. "Didn't realize I'd be walking into the asscrack of "The Devil Wears Prada"..."

He huffs and shakes his head. You hve tough skin - good.

He had Soap come in early that day - poor man usually worked between 4 pm 'til whenever Ghost decided to close. He's still rubbing his eyes and yawning when a pen and spiral notepad are shoved into your hands, Simon pushing you towards towards the cook's table with a hand on your back.

"Hey, welcome to the 141." You say, no attempt at politeness in your tone. Ghost huffs fondly, appreciating how you cut through the bullshit. "Any appetizers today?"

"None o' that keech," Soap says, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching his brow. "Canna have a rusty nail 'n th' smash grunded, wel doon 'n with the bun scud - cannae stand th' aoli. Chips oan the side."

You stare at him, eyes wide in disbelief, before turning to Ghost. "Do they all sound like that?"

He grunts. "If they're drunk."

"Are you drunk?" You ask Soap.

"Feck if I know, tryin' tae figure it oot myself." He groans.

Ghost helps you decipher the words Soap had vomited out. You successfully punch it into the POS, only needing a few pointers from the giant over your shoulder. For the rest of the morning amd afternoon, he taeaches you which button on the soda gun was which, the difference between tonic water and club soda, how to run the industrial sanitizer - with a "ye best make sure that shite is rinsed 'fore ye stick em in there" from Soap - where the new kegs go when Gaz brings them in, where to find napkins and condiments in the walkin, how to cut fruit for the bar, and lastly, how to split your tips.

"But why do I have to pay you?" You ask Ghost, sitting at a table with your calculator app on your phone and a basket of fries between the two of you. "You make loads of tips just pouring liquor."

He chuckles, watching you pop a fry into your mouth. "'N you get a cut of sales from the kitchen, since you're part of it."

You perk up at that. "I do?"

"Seven percent." He confirms. "A decent payout on weekends."

"And Soap doesn't get tips."

"Johnny boy gets paid by th' hour."

"I don't?"

"If ya do well enough, ya won't have to." He says, resting his meaty forearms on the table. "You'll be walkin' out with hundreds."

You chew your lip nervously; Simon's eyes linger on the movement, shifting his weight - the polyester seat creaks beneath him as he observes you fretting silently, the silence only broken by the sound of Soap prepping in the kitchen. "Don' worry too much 'bout it. You're young - jus' keep a smile on 'n you'll be fine. Soap 'n I got your back tonight, but I'm not pickin' up your slack after the week passes."

The fry you're steering towards your mouth falls to the table as Simon stands up. "Tonight?!" You exclaim, shimmying out of the booth.

"Yep. Sixteen hundred."

You glance at your phone. "That's in an hour!" There are kegs stacked by the front door, unpolished and enrolled silverware on the bar top, and half of the chairs are still stacked on the countertops.

"Best get to work then, hmm?" Ghost says, grabbing a container of lemons and moving behind the bar.

[kimstills]

savor

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: after being compromised to working a case the next day, aaron decides on savoring your current moment together for when he’s gone.

content warnings: heavy smut, 18+, minors do not interact! consensual recording, use of nicknames, slapping, choking, dirty talk, groping, aaron hotchner is a FREAK and has a big dick, allusions to m masturbation.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: very much inspired by this post, not sure if the original poster deleted it? but i couldn’t get it out of my head omfg i literally finished this in 2 HOURS AND IT’S NOT PROOFREAD

part two here

Aaron’s not sure where he gets the idea from.

Maybe it’s from the longing he already feels for you after being informed that the team was to take off for a case first thing tomorrow morning, even though he hasn’t even left yet.

Maybe it’s from the sexual tension that’s been filling your shared apartment ever since he stepped foot inside it, the original plan of having the weekend off and spending it with you immediately crumbling from his work.

But, even with his dick buried inside your sopping cunt, he’s just as surprised as you are when he gets the idea of grabbing his phone from where he had discarded it on his side of the nightstand table.

You whine when his movements falter for a split second, eyes widening as you stare up at him when his phone comes into your line of sight.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, already swiping right for his camera.

“You want to film this?” You ask from beneath him, his weight feeling a bit heavier as he stills.

Aaron nods, though your question makes him feel out of character. But at the sight of you sprawled underneath him on silk sheets, face a sweaty, yet beautiful mess makes him not care at all.

He leans down to press a feverish kiss to your cheek, looking you in the eyes when he pulls back, “If that’s okay with you,” the same kiss presses into your already swollen lips. “Just wanna savor the memory for when I’m gone.”

The thought of Aaron pulling up a sloppily filmed video of you two having sex while he’s away on a case immediately riles you up once more. Of him locking himself in his hotel room, fucking his cock into his hand while he watches himself fuck you from a previous time has you clenching around him.

You nod, “Okay,” you bite your lip and look up at him. “Film it.”

That’s all the confirmation Aaron needs for him to hit record and resume his actions, pummeling his still rock hard dick into your soaked pussy.

You let out a loud moan, throwing your head back. Your hand comes up to grip at the arm that wasn’t recording you for support and your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feel of the tip of his dick rubbing against your sweetest spot.

Aaron’s hands are shaky as he films you, lifting his phone higher to capture both your blissful expression and the way his cock disappears inside you with each thrust. His free hand slithers down to grip at the meat of your thigh before throwing it over his shoulder, consequently deepening his thrusts.

“O-Oh, fuck, Aaron!” Your back arches against the bed, nails digging into his forearm as each thrust sends you further over the edge, the coil in your belly threatening to finally snap.

“Look at the camera, pretty girl,”

Your boyfriend’s voice is deep and gravely, leaving you no choice but to submissively follow his orders and stare deep into the small circle of his phone’s camera.

You stare up at it, mouth slightly open to form a lazy, curved ‘o’ as each thrust Aaron delivers sends you further up the bed.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Aaron’s hand comes down to your throat, pulling you up and leaving your head slightly limp underneath his grip. “My slutty girl, taking my cock so well while she gets filmed,” a harsh slap is delivered to your face, making you gasp. “You like that, baby?”

You pout and try your best to nod with his whole hand wrapped around your throat, “I love it, Aaron.”

“I know you do, sweetheart, I can feel you clenching around my dick,” he teases, enunciating the word ‘dick’ with a particularly harsh thrust that gets you whining again. “You gonna cum, sweet girl?”

You nod harshly despite the limited air flow, eyes flickering from the camera to Aaron, “Y-Yes, yes. Can I cum, Aaron? Please?”

Your voice is whiny and desperate, filled with so much need that it takes everything in him to not cum right then and there. He lets out a grunt, hand tightening around your neck the slightest bit more, still careful as to not actually stop you from breathing, “Go ahead, baby. Cum around my cock.”

Immediately, the tightness in your lower belly snaps at Aaron’s permission, your body reduced to shaking and stuttering as your pussy clenches and unclenches around your boyfriend’s dick. Your orgasms washes over you violently, white spots filling your vision as he lets go of your neck to squeeze at your breast, fucking you through it with slower, more deeper thrusts.

“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron!”

His name leaves your lips like a babbled mantra, your release captured perfectly by his phone as his dick twitches inside you at the feeling of you gushing around him. When your body has calmed down and you’re practically left limp on the bed, he pulls out of you, bringing the phone down to your pussy so he can film the way your juices spill out of you.

He dips two fingers in, earning a squeal from above when he pushes them in just to pull them back out, showing the camera how soaked they come out.

Aaron groans at the sight of it and decides that it’s not enough. He stops the video and briefly sets his phone down besides you, bringing himself up to press a sweet kiss to your cheek once more, rubbing your tousled hair out of your face, “Can you give me one more, sweetheart?”

You hum from underneath him, looking at him with a fucked out expression.

“You can do that, right, baby?” Another kiss to your temple, “My good girl can handle one more for the camera, can’t she?”

You think that the concept of being recorded, of being so obsessed over by your lover that he wants to film you again gets you even hotter, the pushing of your thighs together desperately proving inevitably so.

Aaron immediately jumps into action when you nod ‘yes,’ giving you another kiss before helping you onto your hands and knees.

Once you’re settled, he leans over you to position his phone on the top of the bed frame, leant against the wall.

A whimper emits from your pursed lips when you feel the tip of Aaron’s dick rub against your still fully soaked folds, teasing at your entrance before shoving it back inside. Your back immediately arches in response, mouth flying open in a silent scream as your boyfriend bottoms out, hips hitting your ass.

He hasn’t even moved yet, hasn’t started hitting you from behind yet your arms already shake from feeling full.

“You good, sweetheart?” He asks, brushing your hair back endearingly.

You hum, nodding as you wiggle your ass against him. You lick your lips when you catch sight of how prominently his dick still stands, hitting against the muscles of his softly defined stomach.

He hovers above you momentarily and presses what seems like the millionth loving kiss to your cheek, sneaking his hand down to squeeze one of your breast affectionately, “Want you to keep looking at the camera while I fuck you, honey,” a kiss. Another kiss. And another kiss. “Okay?”

He begins to move his hips before you can reply, starting out slow and deep before eventually moving to the same pace he was using before.

You gasp and your hands shoot out to curl around the sleeve of the pillow in front of you. Your eyes glance towards his phone, where you’re more in focus of the phone’s frame than he is. Even with you on your hands and knees and him kneeling on the bed, you can only see the bottom half of his face.

Your eyes roll back to your head again, the only sounds audible being the ones of skin slapping against skin, Aaron’s grunts, and your silent huffs that match his pace.

A mixture of a cry and moan emits from your mouth when he lands a harsh slap onto your ass, gripping the flesh in his big hand. Your legs shake when another slap lands and you feel your arms give out from beneath you, falling limp onto your stomach.

“Oh, no,” Aaron mutters, leaning down and wrapping an arm around your neck as if he were putting you in a chokehold but without the same force like before. He pulls you flush against him, sweaty chest to sweaty back, “Want the camera to capture how I’m fucking you, sweetheart,”

His hand sneaks down to fondle at your breasts, caressing both lovely with a squeeze to each one, “You look so pretty getting fucked by my cock, honey,” he points at the camera. “Can’t wait to watch these and start a collection when I get back,” he presses a kiss to your hair. “You gonna let me do that?”

You can’t reply, too fucked out to do so. Instead, you watch yourself from where you’re held against him, watching your boobs bounce with each delicious thrust he delivers into your cunt and relishing in the hot breath that fans against your ear as he nips at the sensitive skin beneath it.

“A-Aaron,” you whine. “‘m g-gonna cum again,”

“Yeah?” He asks, hand sneaking down from your breasts to your folds, slipping his fingers to begin rubbing at your clit. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

You scream, body stuttering at the cruel pace he begins to touch you with. Your other hand shoots to grip that same arm, thrashing against his hold as another orgasm ripples through your body, filling you with even more pleasure and even overstimulation.

Aaron watches you from his phone, head dipped down to get a good view at the way you rode your high out on his hand and pushed back into his dick simultaneously, mouth open in a wide ‘o’ and legs shaking.

The way you clench around him like before pushes him further towards his own release. When he stops rubbing at your clit, it’s to bring the same fingers up to your tits, coating your nipples with your juices and squeezing them once more as he pushes through the last couple of thrusts that it takes for him to finally come inside you.

You’re whining in front of him with each shallow shove, feeling his come coat your walls. You mewl when he gives the side of your head another kiss before releasing his grip on you and allowing you to fall flat against the mattress once more.

Aaron grabs his phone and aims it at your pussy once more, your ass still somewhat high in the air. He spreads your ass apart, groaning in delight when some of his seed spills out of your pussy, giving the flesh another harsh slap.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart,” he mumbles, angling himself so that he could bend over you again and place much more sweeter, loving kisses your face. “I love you, honey,”

You hum, eyes fluttering closed before emitting a tired “Love you, too,” in response.

The next night, when Aaron is alone in his hotel room, somewhere in Arizona solving said case with his team, he pulls out his phone and presses on the private folder he created shortly after you had both finished and presses play.

When he himself finishes, come all over his chest and his right hand slack next to him while his left holds up his phone, he sets a mental reminder to record you sucking him off when he gets home.

[thetriumphantpanda]

put your sweet lips on my lips | joel miller

Summary | He won't ever kiss you, those are the rules, but you fall in love with him anyway.

Pairing | Boston QZ!Joel x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.3K

Warnings | This is basically porn without plot (do we expect anything less from me these days?) A sprinkling of angst, a stupid no kissing rule, fingering, unprotected PiV sex, rough sex, biting during sex, mentions of breath play, Joel is kinda mean but also kinda soft, neck kisses, no use of y/n.

Authors Note | This was written for @janaispunk's 1.5K kisses celebration! I got Joel Miller with neck kisses and I immediately went, make it smutty and painful, so this is the result. The biggest congratulations to Jana for such an incredible milestone - you're such a shining star on this little corner of the internet and I'm so glad to know you! I hope you like my little way of celebrating you! Thank you for letting me be part of your celebration! I think this may be one of my favourite things I’ve written in a while so I hope you all agree and enjoy it!

Main Masterlist

“That’s it baby, just like that.”

His lips are right there, right against the shell of your ear, hot breath painting small drops of dew where it meets your hot skin. He’s got two fingers buried in your sopping cunt, the squelch of movement the only thing that fills the air if it’s not your moans or his grunts as he presses the thick bulge of his jeans against your ass.

It would be so easy. So easy, you think, to turn your head to the side and catch him by surprise. Let your mouth brush against his, hope that it sparked something between you, hope that it made him push his mouth harder to your own, that he’d let you taste his tongue for the first time since this all started.

He was clear from the start though, that first night, with his cock buried deep inside your pussy, throbbing inside you as he split you open, when you’d put your hand around the back of his neck and tried to drag him to your mouth. His eyes had darkened and his hand had flown to the bottom of your neck, gripping tight enough to warn, tight enough to thrill, to make your wet cunt even wetter as he growled at you.

“I don’t do that shit.”

And that was it. Acceptance between the two of you that this was just sex. Just fucking when you needed it, taking your frustrations out on each other. Nothing to blur the lines, to make you think it was anything more. Plump lips always taunting you when they spoke to you, or when he sunk his teeth into them when you took his entire length into your mouth and down your throat. Always right there and always just out of reach.

God knows how much you want to know what his mouth is like on the one part of your body they’ve never touched. He’s had that mouth latched around your clit as you shake for him, sucked your nippled into that warm cavern, left marks on your skin with his teeth, but never once let you feel them on your own.

You turn your head to him a little, his fingers curling inside you enough to make your pussy clench around them, his mouth right there. You know you could do it, but you’re scared of the consequence. Scared that he’d take everything else away from you, like a parent taking away an ice-cream from a screaming child. You’d be just as petulant if he did, because there’s something comforting about him, hard and closed as he is, but in this place, he is the only thing that doesn’t make you want to throw yourself out of a window.

“Come on baby,” He urges, snaking his other hand down your body so he’s teasing your aching clit now too, “Give it t’me and I’ll give you what you want.”

He rolls his finger across your swollen bud, circling and circling as the feeling in your stomach goes tighter and tighter until it snaps, all of a sudden. Cunt clenching around his fingers as your body shakes, head thrown back onto his shoulder as you come, gushing around his fingers. That’s when you feel it, the familiar warmth of his mouth, soft as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, and then up the side of your neck. He pulls his fingers from your cunt, drags them up your body as his mouth opens against the skin of your neck, tongue warm and wet as it licks at your skin, warm and wet like his fingers that have wiped the evidence of your want for him over your lower stomach.

Joel presses you forward, front of your body pressed to the back of the couch, eyes on the peeling, colourless wallpaper in front of you. He uses one of his knees to spread your legs wider, and though it might be obscene, you move in a way to show off, to bare your aching, drooling pussy to him and the empty room. You can hear him fumble with his belt and then the sound of him pulling his zipper down.

He gives no warning, he never does, just lines the blunt head of his cock to your fluttering hole and pushes in, knocking the air out of your lungs as he folds his body over yours, head of his cock pressed so deep you have no idea where he ends and you start.

His mouth is back on your neck, kissing sloppy to the skin, and it’s like he knows, like he could read your mind about what you want. When he sinks his teeth in and sucks, it’s like he’s saying he’s sorry. He’s sorry he can’t be the man you want him to be, that he can’t ever love you. And silently, as you hold his head there, fingers tangled in his hair, you say it’s okay, that you forgive him, as long as he never stops this.

As long as he never stops the perfect roll of his hips, skin slapping against skin as his cock sets a bruising pace. As long as he never stops the bruising grip on your hip, keeping you in place. As long as he never stops letting you feel his mouth on every inch of your body, it’s okay.

Joel is close, you can feel it in the way he’s faltering, so you think fuck it, what is there to lose.

“Please, Joel.”

It comes out like a whine, your head tipped back on his shoulder again, now he’s pulled you up, pressed you to his body. His hips go harder, like that’s what he thinks you want, so you card your fingers through his curls, damp with sweat, and you beg again, head tilted to the side, mouth right in his eyeline.

“Please Joel,” It’s pathetic really, “I’ll be good, I promise, just once.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Joel, I-”

“I said,” He begins, punctuating it with a particularly hard shove of his cock into your cunt, “No.”

He pushes your body forwards, takes the warmth of his body from yours in punishment for what you’d asked for. Both hands grip at your hips now, his grunts loud as he uses you, thrusts his throbbing cock in and out of you until the very last second, when he pulls himself from your tight heat and fists his cock. You can feel your cunt fluttering around nothing, so close to the edge again, and so far.

Joel comes with a growl, warm spatters of cum painting the round of your ass and the low of your back, his other hand holding you in places as he empties himself entirely across your skin. You expect this to go how it always does, with him pulling away, dressing himself and muttering some excuse to leave, but instead, you feel him come back to you, his front pressed to your back, surely making a mess of the front of his shirt as he does it.

His lips are by your ear, his breath fast and low, but then his lips press to the skin behind your ear, soft and gentle.

“I’m sorry.” He says, barely audible, even this close to your ear.

And then you feel it, the warmth of his lips against the bite mark on your neck. It’s the most gentle you think he’s ever been with you as his mouth pulls back a whisper, pressing against softly to the injured skin. Always there, and never your lips, but as he does it again, you think maybe it’s worse? Because just like it would be there if he kissed your lips, there’s a bubbling feeling in your stomach, and then you realise, it’s not the kiss the makes you fall in love, no matter where it’s placed, it’s the gentle that does it in the end.

[mingtinys]

" i will never be too mad to take care of you "

pairing : yoon jeonghan x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : language , descriptions of a wound , blood

word count : 0.5 k

a/n : last minute i actually decided to flip jeonghan's and joshua's prompt , we'll see if i regret it

Your eyes follow Jeonghan carefully, tracking his movements throughout the kitchen. Waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn't, he simply continues to mull about his business. Completely ignoring your presence and the tension that hangs heavily in the air as a result of your recent argument.

It wasn't the biggest fight you've ever had, but it was surely up there. In the heat of it, you said some things you didn't mean, things that seemed to hit Jeonghan in just the right spot to set him off. You felt bad at first. The moment tears began to gather in his eyes and his face dropped you felt the urge to apologize. But then he opened his mouth and shot some choice words back at you in a way that hit just as hard. All thoughts of talking it out ceased then and there, and so ensued the ongoing silence between you two.

Even just his lingering presence as you try to prepare dinner has you on edge. So much so, that you focus all your attention on what he's doing and what he could be thinking rather than the onion you're chopping up. With your mind split, it only takes a few seconds before you feel the knife slice into your hand. It clatters to the ground as you cry out and cradle your injured hand.

"Ah– shit!"

Jeonghan is at your side in half a second, maybe less. Reaching out to take hold of your hand so he can examine it. "What happened?" His voice is urgent, but his grip is gentle as he hovers over the bleeding wound.

"Ow– I'm fine, it's fine—"

"No, you're not. Just take a seat, I'll be back in a second." He's gone and back in under a minute, the first aid kit from the upstairs bathroom tucked under his arm. You sit in the nearest chair and Jeonghan kneels in front, delicately taking your hand into his palm.

It stays silent as he cleans around the cut and begins to tenderly wrap the fluffy white gauze around your hand. "It looks pretty deep. I think it'd be best if we go to the emergency room and have it looked at, I can drive."

"Why?" The word slips out before you can stop it.

Jeonghan gives you a funny look. "Um, because you might need stitches?"

"No. I meant why do you care?" Tears brim at your lashes and you can feel the tidal wave of pent-up emotions ready to crash down. "I said some really awful things. You should be mad right now, not helping me—"

"Woah woah woah, hey," He soothes. His palm softly cups your face while the other rests on your knee, squeezing it. "I will never be too mad to take care of you." The sincerity in his sparkling gaze never falters.

"I'm really sorry, Jeonghan. I promise I didn't mean what I said."

"I know," he smiles, rising to his feet to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. "I'm sorry as well. We can talk about it once you're better."

[distantdarlings]

RAGE AGAINST ME // t. nott

RATING: R / 4K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After unfairly losing your first Quidditch match of the year, you're fighting to restrain the rage that's filling you. When Theo realizes how upset you truly are, he gets the idea to allow you to take all of your frustration out on him. (Smut)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Dom!reader, Sub!Theo, piv - no protection, biting, choking, bondage, one slap, fem reader, mommy kink, praise, language, brief description of Quidditch injury at beginning, not fully proofread (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Supermassive Black Hole - Muse

---

The icy wind bit against your skin, stinging your cheeks and splitting your lips. Your eyes quickly followed the constant movement on the field through your goggles. 

Despite the raging winter storm around the pitch, the game of Quidditch pressed on, as violent as usual. One hand gripped your broom while the other stayed shoved in your jersey, allowing the warmth from your body to provide some feeling back to your fingers. 

The score was even at nothing to nothing. Few Quaffles shot by any witch or wizard in Hogwarts were going to get by you, save for extreme luck. You were the best Keeper in a decade. The headmaster himself had said so. 

And that fact rang through the entirety of this game up until one point. One point that had shot the most severe anger you’d ever felt through your whole body. And that moment was playing through your head on repeat.

As you had been following the Gryffindor chaser, watching her zoom through her teammates in an attempt to get to you, you had tightened your whole body against your broom. You prepared yourself to smack the ball away from the goals.

As she made the shot, the Quaffle flew past your Chaser and headed right toward you. You were ready. In the blurred motions on the outskirts of your focus on the Quaffle, you noticed the Chaser raise her hand and shout. 

Before you could react to the Quaffle or the Chaser, a raging bullet slammed into your hip. The force of the Bludger pushed you over the edge of your broom. A yelp left your lips as you just barely caught yourself on your broom, still suspended in the air. Your hands gripped the handle, but the numbness in your fingers and the slickness of the wood had you sliding more and more.

Cheers erupted around you as the Quaffle flew through the goalpost. 

“Fuck!” you shouted, disappointed that the Gryffindors had scored points. Your grip on the broom was becoming less and less sturdy. Every urge to get yourself back on the broom was met by another slip. 

Your name was shouted near you. You glanced around until you found Theo speeding toward you full force. He circled around you, lowering himself to become even with you. One hand reached down to grip the back of your chest guard. He began to lift, helping you back onto the broom. 

Soft grunts left you as you pulled the length of your chest over the handle. Nearly there, you thought just as another force slammed into your side, shoving the breath out of you. Theo’s hand was jerked away from your chest guard, and your loosened grip on your broom was ruined. 

There was no time for you to scream as you slipped right between the two things keeping you in the air. Your stomach dropped as you fell, almost as if in slow motion. As your fingers slipped through open air, hoping to grip onto something, your hearing shot from your ears, rendering the world in silence. You could just barely see Theo’s screaming face as he sped down toward you as fast as he could. You hoped to Merlin he’d catch you before you were out for the rest of the season with two broken legs—or worse. 

Just before you could hit the ground, you felt your body lift into suspension as if it had suddenly been caught by an invisible force. The air was pushed from your body once again in a quick motion. You glanced around, quickly spotting Headmaster Dumbledore in the staff spectator booth. He stood at attention with a pointed hand raised in the air. As he lost focus, you fell the last foot to the ground, yelping on impact. 

“Harry Potter, the Gryffindor Seeker, has caught the Snitch! Gryffindor wins by 160 points!” 

Deafening applause roared around you, practically rattling the goalposts beneath the weather and sound. Your head fell back in defeat, an annoyed groan pouring from your lips. This was your first loss of the year. Fuck! You punched the sandy ground, the half-frozen surface burning through your gloves. You got to your feet and stomped off the pitch, anger coursing through your veins. From behind you, you could hear Theo Accio your broom to him as he descended through the air.

You pushed through the player’s entrance and got to work ripping your gear off, trying to restrain yourself from throwing any of it. You were so mad, you might cry. You couldn’t believe they didn’t call a foul on the Gryffindor chaser and beaters. They would just call strategy on that shitty move, but as the adrenaline was fading, you realized that your injuries hurt like hell. There was no way those moves were just for strategy—they were meant to hurt. 

Once your chest guard was off, you winced as you slowly rolled the side of your jersey up over your left ribcage. Though the blood hadn’t completely pooled behind the injury, you could see the reds and purple already starting to form. You did the same with your right hip, checking to see the damage. You were pretty sure nothing was broken or chipped—just bruised. Your jaw clenched.

“Hey,” Theo ran through the player’s entrance, breathless from the run. You ignored him. You didn’t want to say anything you’d regret. You weren’t mad at him, but you had a bit of a temper. 

“Baby,” he sighed, walking over to you. He set your broom against the lockers and attempted to press his hands to your cheeks. You gently brushed him away, shaking your head. “Please, it’s not your fault. That should have been a foul.”

“I know,” you spoke through gritted teeth, making rough work of shoving your gear back into your locker, purposefully ignoring the ache in your bones. 

“Don’t worry about it—no one is upset with you,” he reassured. You nodded.

“Baby, look at me—”

“Theo! Please stop!” you interrupted, finally turning to face him. “I’m sorry, but I’m very angry. I don’t care if the team is angry with me. I’m angry with myself! I just want to be left alone for a minute.” 

He looked taken aback by your sudden hostility, and a flash of guilt ran through you. This is why you’d hoped he would just ignore you. You had a tendency to be mean when you were angry. You didn’t mean to—it just kind of happened. You sighed and pressed your thumb and forefinger to the bridge of your nose.

“I’m sorry, Theo,” you sighed, “I’ll see you back in the common room, okay?”

You didn’t let him reply before making your way to the exit. You wished you hadn’t lashed out in the way you had, but you couldn’t help it. If there was any chance you were going to be even slightly successful in the Quidditch world, you had to at least stay on your fucking broom. You were so annoyed with yourself you could hardly see straight. 

You stomped across the courtyard, wanting nothing more than to just collapse onto your bed. It was a Friday, which meant the Quidditch games happened before dinner. You were starving, but the way you saw it, you had only two options. You could go to sleep and wait until breakfast or face your shame head-on. You chose to sleep. 

Once you’d finally reached the Slytherin common room, you’d ignored all of your various housemates who wanted to check in on you. You were extremely grateful for them and would tell them that later, but you needed to be alone right now. 

You climbed the stairs to the girls' dormitories and wrestled with your own pride all the way to your dorm. When you appeared before its door, you prayed that no one would be inside. Hopefully, everyone was down at dinner or heading there. You pushed through the door with a held breath. 

No one was there. You released your breath in relief and shut the door behind you, refraining from slamming it. The bed at the far end of the room was waiting with open arms. All you wanted was to go to bed and forget that match ever happened. You were beyond embarrassed and would likely mull over all of your mistakes for the rest of your life. Something told you that you’d randomly remember glimpses of this match until you were elderly and cringe every time. 

A groan left you as you collapsed against the soft mattress, not bothering to take off your underclothes despite the sweat that had dried over them. You’d wash your sheets tomorrow. You made yourself comfortable beneath the covers before shutting your eyes, willing yourself to sleep. Fucking finally.

A knock on the door had your eyes shooting back open. You shook your head and silently refused to get up. If someone wanted in that badly, they’d break open the door. Wasn’t your problem…

The sound of your name being called permeated the heavy wooden entrance. Your eyes opened once more. You knew well enough the face that belonged to the voice outside, but even he couldn’t convince you to get out of bed at this point. The violent mixture of shame, bruised pride, and embarrassment circling through your head had pinned you to your mattress.

“Baby, please,” he said, a low sigh leaving him. He sounded upset. You were not getting up.

“Please, I need to talk to you.” Damn it. You sighed and got to your feet. Maybe it was something important, entirely unrelated to the match. He could be hurt or upset about something else. Maybe he wanted to ask you on a date or something. You pulled the dorm door open. The look on his face told you that he definitely did not want to go on a date. 

“Can I come in?” he asked, his fingers fidgeting against themselves by his sides. With a defeated sigh, you nodded and let him walk through the door. 

Once inside, he tore his scarf off, letting it fall to the floor next to your bed. He let his jacket fall from his arms and to the other item of clothing already on the floor. You watched in confusion as he seemed to be shedding every article of fabric he had on himself. His fingers fumbled his belt buckle open, the leather splitting and hanging open over the front of his jeans. He pulled the gray sweater over his head, the static from the material crackling against his slowly revealed flesh. The toned, darkened skin beneath glowed pale from the cold weather outside. Before long, he stood in nothing but his jeans and half-undone belt. 

“Theo, what the fuck?”

“Use me.” 

Your head flickered against the words, double-taking at the expression pulled across his face. One of genuine concern; his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed, his jaw ticked. You searched that expression, desperate to find some answers to his odd behavior. Yet, no matter how hard you looked, none came.

“What—?” you started.

“Use me,” he repeated, his voice serious and unwavering. You had no words. What the fuck was he talking about? Did he want you to hit him or something? He said he had a bad habit of wanting to punch something when he was angry—maybe that’s what this was. You took a gander.

“What? Like hit you or something?” you tried. He sighed and rolled his eyes a bit.

“No, not necessarily,” he groaned, “I want you to do what you want to me.”

“What? Theo, I’m just not in the mood right now—I thought that much was obvious—”

“No, shut up,” he demanded. “Hear me out…if you still don’t want to after I explain myself, that’s totally fine, but let me try and discuss it.” A few moments passed before you finally let out a sigh and nodded. Surely, he didn’t actually expect you to be horny right now.

“I know that you’re angry, and for good reason, and I also know you don’t want to talk about it,” he started, eyes never leaving yours. “But I want you to try and…you know, get your frustrations out another way. I want you to do whatever you want to me…fuck me, hit me, bite me, kick me—I don’t care. Just get it out, okay?”

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get any words to exit your lips. You really had no idea what to say in response to his proposition. You felt like your obvious answer should be no. None of your anger should be taken out on him in any way. Theo wasn’t really your boyfriend—at least, he’d never formally asked you out—but you didn’t want to hurt him in any way, even if he was asking you to.

“Theo, no…I don’t want to hurt you, that’s—”

“Please, I’m asking you to,” he interrupted once again. “You won’t hurt me, I promise.”

He crossed the remaining space of floor between the two of you, stopping only right in front of you. He gently reached down to grab one of your hands from your side. He raised it between the two of you, his fingers tightened firmly around your wrist. At his proximity, the rate of your breath increased. 

“Do whatever you want to me. I can take it,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. Your lips parted at the tone of his voice. His eyes watched yours so intently, the pupils blown wide against the salt spray color. You swallowed thickly. 

“Okay,” you whispered. 

“Okay?” he smiled, nodding. You nodded, as well. His fingers came up to gently pinch your chin between them. His eyes were bright and encouraging. He didn’t let go of you. “Where do you want me, love?”

“Um, I’m not sure,” you giggled nervously. Your stomach was aching with anxiety like the first time the two of you had ever done anything. You felt like you were completely inexperienced again. Your hands shook against you. 

“How about I lay down?” he asks gently, still smiling. He lay down against the headboard of your bed, beckoning you slowly with his darkened eyes. It felt as though he had just been smiling with sweet, reassuring eyes, but his expression had entirely changed. His eyes were dark and lidded, his cheeks barely blushed, his lips parted, and his jaw tight. It took your breath away. 

“Come here,” he whispered. You walked toward him, allowing him to help you onto the bed and over his lap. The rough material of his jeans chafed against the insides of your bare thighs. His hands rubbed up and down the top of your legs, pushing the material of your undershorts higher against your hipbone.

“What do you want to do to me?” he rasps. 

“I…,” you breathed, your confidence wavering. You knew exactly what you wanted to do now but were unsure if you could say it. His eyebrows raised, his head nodding you on. 

“I want to fuck you the way I want,” you whispered. With every second, your confidence built, illuminating the heat within your abdomen. More ideas flew through your head. The thought of being able to do whatever you wanted was a powerful feeling. Was that bad? You weren’t sure. 

“Tell me what to do.”

“Incarcerous,” you whispered. Wandlessly, you watched as thick, black cords tightened themselves around Theo’s wrists. They wound themselves around the gaps in the headboard, securing him against the wooden material. Your intention behind the spell was not to harm him, and your magic knew what you wanted. His breathing was deep but controlled as he let everything happen to him. You asked if what you were doing was okay. He nodded emphatically. 

His core, which rested between your thighs, swelled rapidly. A smirk fell over your face as you dragged your nails down his bare chest. A gasp left his lips, and his eyes clenched shut at the sensation. His hips rolled slowly against you, trying to elicit some contact against himself. 

“Theo, if I do something wrong, will you tell me?” you asked. “Say ‘Quidditch’ if it’s too much, okay?” 

“Aren’t we supposed to be making you forget about that very thing?” he chuckled breathlessly. You rolled your eyes in response. You weren’t concerned with what word he used as long as the two of you were on the same page.

Once you had confirmed that he wouldn’t let you go too far, you wasted no time getting to work. You had needs that had sprung up rather instantly at the thought of being able to use Theo however you wanted, and you were going to satiate them. 

You placed your lips to his quickly, reveling in the feeling of his tongue on yours. Already, he found himself tugging at the cords restraining his hands. He groaned at the feeling, wanting nothing more than to wrap his hands in your hair. You moved your lips away from his and trailed long, open-mouthed kisses down his abdomen. Small noises exited his lips every time you bared your teeth down against his flawless flesh.

Your fingers found his partially undone belt and set to work removing it from its loops. You gripped the leather material in your hands, making a point to gently trace its rough surface down his marked-up stomach. 

You unbuttoned his jeans and roughly dragged them down his legs with little to no help from him. With the fire and confidence blaring through your muscles, you didn’t need any help. You only needed him and his body. 

You slid your fingers beneath the band of his briefs, glimpsing the warmth beneath them. You pressed a bruising kiss to both hipbones, feeling the way he jolted beneath your lips at the sensation. Every time you glanced up, his eyes were clenched, and his lips were parted. You adored how reactive he was, no matter what you were doing. 

When you slid his briefs down to his ankles, you let the pool of saliva built up in your mouth slip between your lips. As it made contact with his core, you rolled your hand over him, lathering him in it. A very audible groan left his lips at the motion, and it seemed he couldn’t refrain from bucking his hips against your hand, trying to pleasure himself to his end. 

“Please, please,” he whispered as you continued to work him up. There was no way in hell you were letting him finish this way, but it was still fun to watch his reactions. Any time he got close to his end, his thighs would tense up, and his eyes would clench harder, and you knew to stop. That’s how he’d always been. You kept that in mind, and just as you began to see those signs, you stopped touching him.

“Ah, fuck, please,” he practically whined as the tension in his body faded away at his ruined high. You ignored him as you tugged your shorts off of your body, with your bottoms quickly following them. You only had one thing in mind at the moment.

A long, deep moan left his lips as you sank down onto him. The built-up arousal and spit around his core made him slip into you with ease. Your lips parted at the feeling, loving the way he filled you so perfectly. Theo had always been perfect for you as if he had been created specifically to please you. He hit every spot he needed to and coaxed more heat from your body every time you lifted your hips, only to sit back down onto him. 

“Baby, please!” he moaned aloud. “I’m gonna…fuck, if you keep going like that, I’m—” You laid a slap to his face. His face jerked to one side at the force. His eyes found you in shock, his wrists yanking at the cords. You couldn’t tell if that had been a mistake or not, but you wanted him to stop talking and let you do what he’d asked you to.

“Stop talking, or I’ll make you,” you spoke through gritted teeth. He nodded immediately and shut his mouth. His hips rolled into yours roughly, fucking himself deeper into you. Your eyes rolled back at the motion. When you didn’t respond with your own movement, he continued to do the same thing.

“Good boy,” you moaned, allowing him to push you toward your end. 

“Want more,” he groaned out, his hips still pushing into you. 

“Theo, what did I say about talking?” you said, your eyes now open and angry.

“I’m sorry, baby, it’s just that—” Wandlessly, you directed another cord from your previous spell to slide its way across his pretty neck. He whined in shock, the feeling surprising him. His lips pressed shut as the cord applied just enough pressure to keep him quiet. 

“No more talking,” you warned. He nodded pathetically, forcing his hips back against yours. Fuck what he was saying, if he continued like this, you were going to come prematurely. Even with you controlling the majority of the situation, he managed to make you come close to finishing quickly.

“Fuck, baby, keep doing that,” you whispered. You were closer than you thought.

With what little bodily control he had at the moment, Theo still managed to roughly and accurately fuck his hips up into you at a perfect pace. Every thrust hit something special within you, forcing you closer and closer to your end. Drops of sweat slid down his built chest, coaxing your tongue toward them. You wanted to taste his salty skin, to have his earthy scent engrained in your flesh. You wanted to feel him within you for the rest of your life, never allowing him to pull himself from you. You were utterly obsessed with the boy beneath you and his eagerness to please you. Affection overwhelmed you.

“Yeah, baby? You’re such a good boy?” you cooed, dragging your thumb down his swollen lips. “Such a good boy for me, for mommy?” 

At the change in pronoun, Theo’s eyes rolled back, and a muffled groan left his clenched mouth. You could feel his chest shuddering at the onset of his pleasure. His orgasm rolled through him like a wave of electricity, coaxing every last drop of ecstasy from his body. His legs shook beneath you as he released his spend into you, the feeling of which forced you over your own edge. You came hard around him, allowing the proof of your desire to spill around his own. 

Once you’d come to the end of your finish, you silently waved your spell and watched as Theo took a deep breath and let his hands fall back down to the bed. He looked content and pleased. His flushed cheeks and sweaty hair plastered to his forehead sent a blush through your stomach. He looked absolutely gorgeous.

“How was that? Was that okay?” you asked, a bit nervous.

“I think I learned a few things about myself, but it was alright,” he murmured, a slight smile on his lips. The two of you giggled silently, falling into each other beneath the covers. Without the warmth of your sex, the wintry weather outside penetrated the windows, laying a cold blanket over the two of you. You shivered giddily. 

“I was thinking, if you call yourself that, maybe I should take you on a date…,” he said. 

“Oh…you don’t have to. I was just, you know, trying something out,” you laughed.

“Did you like it?”

“It was alright,” you shrugged. “It definitely seemed like you liked it, though.” He rolled your eyes at your teasing tone. “You like it when I treat you like that?”

He said nothing, his words choked beneath the force of his flushed cheeks. You could tell everything you had done had set off some kind of fire within him, whether or not he wanted to admit it. If he didn’t want you to do any of those things again, he’d let you know, but the way he seemed to already be hardening again at the thought of your behavior moments ago had you convinced he’d been a fan of all of it. 

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03, @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth (if you want to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, send me a dm, or message in my inbox. Thanks!)*

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In

Summary: Billy Maximoff sustains an injury and Wanda comes to you, her neighbour who happens to be an ER doctor.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

For @esposadejoyhuerta - hope this week is better to us <3

Tired.

That’s all you are. You don’t even know how you manage to get home, dragging your feet through the door and dropping your bag next to the couch.

Sleep or eat?

You look between the kitchen and sofa, and the view of the cushions and the blanket you left there is far more attractive than the prospect of food.

Sleep it is.

Dropping face first on the couch, you sigh, excited at the idea of sleeping for the next few hours, until your next shift at the hospital.

You close your eyes, and don’t know how long you’ve been asleep until a desperate knock wakes you.

“Who is it?” you say, scared by the sudden noise.

“It’s Wanda”

You relax instanty, sighing with relief. Though you don’t speak regularly to your neighbours, Wanda is by far the nicest.

“Is everything ok?” as soon as you open the door, you can see her disheveled state and the fear in her eyes. “Wanda, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Billy had a little accident in the stairs and he’s in pain, I didn’t know what to do and remembered you’re a doctor”

“Come on” you let her lead the way, opening the door. As soon as you enter you can hear Billy’s cries and Tommy by his side. The boy is sitting at the bottom of the stairs, holding his right arm.

“Hey, Billy. Wanna tell me what happened?”

“It hurts” is all he manages to say.

“May I examine you? You can tell me if it hurts a lot or only a little, yes?”

The boy nods, trying to calm down as you inspect his arm. At a certain movement, he flinches, and you sigh, turning to Wanda.

“He needs an X-Ray”

“Ok, I’ll take him now”

“Why don’t I drive you?” you say, thinking it might be dangerous for Wanda to get behind the wheel when she’s in so much distress. The woman nods, and you help Billy up, making sure he doesn’t move his arm.

Wanda sits with both boys in the back of your car, her hands going through Billy’s hair to calm him down.

“Sorry about the mess” you say, looking at all the junk you had in your car.

“It’s alright” she says, looking a bit more relaxed. “I’m sorry for making you drive us, you must be exhausted”

“I don’t mind at all”

You look through the rearview mirror, Wanda smiling softly and you return the gesture, feeling a bit flustered.

“I thought I told you to go home” Chief Fury says as soon as you walk through the ER.

“Uh… my neighbour’s kid got into an accident so”

“Alright, then” his threatening glare softens as soon as his eyes land on the woman walking behind you and her two kids, Billy in a wheelchair.

“He needs an X-Ray, I didn’t see signs of a concussion or any other injuries”

“Admit him, get vitals and go to imaging. Ma’am, you can wait here while Dr. Y/L/N checks on your son”

“Can’t I go with him?”

“I’m afraid not”

“It’s alright, I won’t leave him alone” you squeeze her hand, pushing Billy to the X-ray room.

Luckily it’s empty when you walk in, the technician setting everything up quickly.

“I thought your shift ended” Darcy says and you shrug your shoulders.

“Shit happens”

Billy laughs and your eyes widen, forgetting you were around a child.

“Uh, maybe don’t tell your mom I said that, kid?”

“Hey, don’t do it for free. Get something in return for your silence” Darcy intervenes and you want to smack her. But Billy keeps on laughing as you argue with your friend, and it’s nice to see him smiling after being in so much pain.

Darcy whistles as soon as you look at the image of Billy’s fracture.

“Clean split”

“Yeah, he got lucky”

You figure it’s better to ask for an Ortho resident to help with the cast. Darcy keeps Billy company while you go talk to Wanda.

“Hey” you sit next to her, offering a cup of coffee you brought from the machine.

“How is he?” Wanda asks, looking at Tommy, who is sound asleep in the chair next to hers. You motion for her to stand up to talk without waking him up.

“Billy broke his arm but won’t need surgery. Just a cast for a few weeks and then we can remove it”

“I’m such an idiot” she curses and you’re taken aback by her outburst. As a trauma surgeon, you had seen your fair share of ugly situations, so a cast was one of the best outcomes all things considered.

“I shouldn’t have let them play, but it was late and I figured they just needed to run a bit more before they got tired” she goes on, hand running through her hair. You can see the tears pooling in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, stop” you place your hands in her arms, waiting until she looks at you. “Blaming yourself is not helping at all. Listen, kids get hurt playing, it’s practically a rite of passage. And I know it sucks and it’s scary but Billy is fine and I’m always around for anything, ok?”

“Ok” she nods and without thinking, you pull her closer, hugging her. Wanda rests her head on your shoulder, her scent pleasant and calming. You rub circles down her back and she relaxes.

“Thank you” she says, her hands still on your waist. You can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks, even in her disheveled state and your eyes travel to her lips.

“Dr. Y/L/N?” a resident approaches you, clearly hesitant to interrupt.

“Yeah” it takes you a second too long to look away, making Wanda blush.

“Billy is all set up” she informs you. “If Miss Maximoff filled out all the forms he’s good to go”

“Yeah, I did” the woman nods next to you, picking up her things and waking Tommy up. The resident leads you to a room where Billy is waiting for his mother. Tommy runs up to him and admires his cast, looking at the material in his brother’s arm.

“Here” you say, adjusting an armsling for him to rest. Signing his discharge and picking up some pain meds, you lead the Maximoffs out of the hospital.

By the time you park in your driveway it’s 2 AM and you have to be at the hospital in less than 12 hours.

“Come on sweetheart” Wanda tries to wake Billy, but you stand next to her and offer to carry him all the way to his room.

You’ve known Wanda for almost two years now but had never gone inside her house. As you carry the boy upstairs, you notice all the family pictures and drawings that the twins made.

“Sleep tight, little man” you say, moving aside so Wanda can remove his shoes and tuck him in. “Let me know if you need anything, ok? I’ll be home until noon”

“Oh, actually, can you wait a second for me? I’m sorry, it won’t be long”

“Sure” you nod, going down to the living room.

You don’t know if it’s the exhaustion or Wanda has an incredibly comfortable couch, but as soon as you sit there, you relax and drift off.

By the time Wanda tucks in both boys and comes downstairs, you’re fast asleep. The woman smiles, your features soft as you catch up on much needed sleep. Wanda pulls out a blanket and drapes it over your body, hoping you’ll finally be able to get some rest.

—

It smells amazing.

The scent of fried bacon and butter makes you open your eyes, your stomach suddenly very aware that you forgot to have dinner last night.

Looking around, you realise this isn’t your house, but it still takes a minute to remember everything. Wanda, the twins, the hospital.

“Morning” the woman says when she sees you looking confused; the way you rub the sleep off your eyes makes her heart flutter.

“Wanda, hey. Sorry, I crashed in your living room. I’ll get out of your way now”

“I’m making breakfast. I bet you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday”

“Well…” you rub your neck, stretching. You fold the blanket and walk to her, your mouth watering at the smell of everything.

“Orange juice?” she offers.

“Yeah, thanks” you take the glass. “Can I help with anything?”

“You’ve done enough, Y/N. Come on, sit. Enjoy”

You smile sheepishly, grabbing pancakes, bacon and some jam. The first bite is so good, you let out a loud moan.

“Sorry” you blush, Wanda biting her lip curiously at the sound you just made. “These are like the best pancakes I’ve ever had”

“Thank you” she sits across from you, drinking coffee and resting her chin on her hand. “Do you have to be back to work soon?”

“Yeah, in a couple of hours. I’ve got surgery and gotta make the rounds on some patients from yesterday”

“You work too much” she admonishes in her mom voice and you laugh.

“I’ve heard that one before”

“Your boss?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t have any family here and all of my friends are at the hospital, so it’s better than being home alone doing nothing”

“Not all of your friends are at the hospital” she says with a shy smile and you nod, appreciating her words.

“What about you? Anything interesting going on?”

“Aside from Billy and Tommy being pure chaos? No, that’s enough for a lifetime” she laughs, and it’s honestly the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“They’re really sweet kids. It must be hard work but you’re doing amazing with both of them, Wanda”

“Thank you” she looks down at her cup of coffee and you nod, eating the rest of your food in silence.

Wanda is about to say something else when your pager goes off.

“Oh, great” you mutter. “My surgery’s gonna be earlier. Gotta hurry up”

“Chew your food!” Wanda scolds when you began to put everything in your mouth.

“Sorry” you say, trying to slow down. Wanda rolls her eyes. “Can I at least do the dishes?”

“Fine” she concedes, and shows you where everything is. “You better eat before your surgery. Or I’ll pack you lunch”

“I promise I’ll eat” you say, rolling your eyes. Once the dishes are done you pick up your stuff and walk out the door, Wanda close behind. “Let me know if you need anything? Billy might have some discomfort but the meds should be enough. But either way, call me”

“I don’t actually have your phone number” she says, making you frown.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Here” You take out a piece of paper from your pocket and scribble on it. “Anything at all, call me. Even if I’m in surgery, I’ll make sure one of the nurses answers for me”

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“Those pancakes were heavenly. Thank you”

It’s hard for you to say goodbye to Wanda, but you hear the twins calling and decide it’s time to go back home.

The woman gives you a nod and you reach out, squeezing her hand. You feel warm as you go back to your place.

To be honest, you’re hoping Wanda calls you, for more than just a consult.

[lomlhwa]

twin bitches (j.yh + c.jh)

pairing: roommate!yunho x roommate!reader x roommate!jongho

preview: your roommates are so sick and tired of hearing about your lack of sexual activity. so, they fix it for you.

tags/warnings: fem reader, threesome, oral (f+m.receiving), monster cocks for both of them, use of the color system, two cocks in one hole can i get a wahoo, praise, degrading, mean dom jongho + sweet dom yunho, mating press, so much dirty talk, slapping, some voyeurism, hand kink, fingering, breath play, pet names (slut, good girl, whore, our girl, baby, pretty girl), yunho likes to be called yuyu thank you, spanking, vibrator torture, edging, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), a couple creampies

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 2.6k

song recs for this fic: topia twins by travis scott, soaked by shy smith

a/n: hnnngrggnn

It's late at night when you finally press your key into your front door. you can hear your roommates yelling at each other. you automatically assume that they're gaming. and you’re right. you find them sitting on opposite sides of the couch, screaming about their game and pounding on the buttons of their controllers. you can’t help but find it at least a little cute.

jongho looks up from the game for a split second to acknowledge you before nudging yunho. “oh y/n! you’re home!” yunho throws his headset off and runs over to you. your big golden retriever roommate loves to hug you when you get home. it’s endearing. you wrap your arms around his waist as he crashes your face into his chest. you can hear jongho press the power button on their console and get up from the couch. 

“how did your date go?” jongho asks with a stoic look on his face. it’s your 3rd date this week. you sigh, your shoulders dropping. you hate admitting that it’s yet another date that’s gone south. “he said he didn't see me as anything more than a friend.” jongho rolls his eyes, scoffing at your response. “that’s such bullshit,” he says, his tone highly unimpressed by your response. “i don’t understand how all of these men are treating you like this.”

you shrug, walking over to the couch where the two of them had originally been sitting. you throw your head back and cross your arms over your chest. your roommates plop themselves down on either side of you, watching to see what your next move will be. “yanno, i’m not even upset about not having a boyfriend,” you admit, turning your head to the left to look at jongho. “then what are you upset about?” yunho asks from the right side of you. the tone of his voice gives you an inkling that he knows what you’re gonna say. you grow a mischievous look on your face before turning to look at him. “i’m upset that i’m not getting fucked. like at all.”

as soon as those words leave your mouth, both your roommates collectively sigh. “what?! it’s a valid complaint!” you exclaim, looking at the both of them in disbelief. you watch as they share a secretive look. confusion spreads across your face. “what the fuck was that?” you ask, wondering what they could be planning. before you can ask anymore questions, jongho throws you over his shoulder. 

“genuinely what is happening right now?” you exclaim, kicking your legs, almost making jongho falter. yunho grabs your ankles tightly, forcing you to stop kicking. “stop being a fucking brat,” yunho demands. you halt every movement so quickly you could’ve sworn your heart stopped too. you can feel heat pooling between your legs at the tone of yunho’s voice. finally, jongho throws you down onto your bed. they both stand above you, arms crossed. they look at each other and then back down at you.

“alright, this is what’s gonna happen since you’re such a whore,” yunho starts. you open your mouth to protest the vulgar name and jongho slaps you straight across the face. “you don’t speak unless spoken to.” you can’t even deny how wet this is making you. yunho gives jongho a smile before continuing. “we’re gonna use you however we see fit and you’re gonna fucking like it.” you squeeze your legs together, your core begging for attention. jongho takes notice of this and forces your knees apart. 

“color?” yunho asks. “very green,” you respond. you almost smile before they both move closer to you and then your face drops. yunho collapses to his knees between your legs and jongho moves towards your upper half. yunho removes your pants so gently, you can barely even tell he’s between your legs. the way he looks up at you, almost desperately, could make you cum on the spot. jongho on the other hand, rips your shirt in half with ease before throwing it somewhere. he grips your jaw, squeezing your face with one hand to force your mouth open. “you’re gonna look so pretty with a face full of cock, baby,” jongho says as he opens his belt with his other free hand. 

you’re so focused on jongho’s words and movements that you had forgotten about where yunho was. that is until you feel his tongue lick a stripe up your thigh. you shoot your eyes in his direction, watching as his mouth inches closer to where you need him most. “she’s so wet, jongho. she’s into this,” yunho says, pulling your underwear off. “i think she really wants us to use her.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. jongho shoves his pants and boxers mid-way down his thighs as he laughs. “of course she is. she’s our little slut,” he says as he shoves his cock down your throat. you gag around him almost immediately, despite only being able to take just under half into your mouth. simultaneously, yunho shoves his face into your core, lapping up the slick that had been leaking out of you. 

the mix of the sensation of your throat being abused and your cunt being cared for so gently sends your brain into a frenzy. you buck your hips up against yunho’s mouth, searching for more intense pleasure. jongho holds your face tightly, making sure you’re watching him while he fucks your mouth. he looks at you with dark, focused eyes, keeping a steady pace in your throat. you feel a loss of heat as yunho pulls away from your core, leaving your throbbing. you wonder where he’s going but you physically can’t look away from jongho. you don’t have to wonder for long when you hear the familiar buzzing of your vibrator. panic sets into your chest, knowing you have no escape. “dirty girl keeping her vibrator in the most obvious place,” yunho says. you can hear him click through the different vibration settings before settling on the basic one. 

jongho pulls out from your mouth before removing his pants and boxers completely. he settles behind you, resting his legs on either side of your waist. yunho gets back down between your legs, running the vibrator up your thigh. “this is gonna feel so fucking good, baby,” he mumbles before pressing it directly to your clit. your hips jolt at the high vibration setting he has on, sending electricty through your veins. you dig your nails into jongho’s thighs, throwing your head back against his shoulder. yunho presses the vibrator into your clit harder, making you borderline stop breathing. your vision becomes fuzzy as your orgasm comes racing towards you like a train. “gonna-” is all you can get out before cumming harder than you probably ever have in your life. yunho never lets the vibrator falter, keeping it pressed on your most sensitive spot.

jongho wraps a strong hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to have you gasping for air. yunho digs his teeth into the soft skin of your inner thigh, watching as you clench around nothing, searching for some distraction from the immense pleasure. “plea-ah-se” you stutter, trying to get words out through jongho’s grip on your airway. “please what, whore?” jongho says against your ear, demanding more words out of you. “need your fingers yuyu,” you plead, your voice cracking. you’re desperate for anything to fill your hole, and yunho knows how much you love his hands. he smiles, obliging to your request. he shoves two fingers knuckles-deep into your sopping cunt. he drills them in an out of you at an unfathomable pace, sending another orgasm crashing into you. your legs tremble at the sensation of everything continuing despite your obvious orgasm.

in fact, yunho adds a third finger and sets the vibrator to the next highest setting. you let out a strangled scream, your nerves lighting themselves on fire. your knees slam together painfully, trapping yunho between your legs. you hear a sinister laugh behind you before your legs are pried apart by a pair of strong hands. you gasp at the sudden rush of air to your lungs and also being splayed open perfectly for your roommates. “please, i can’t do it anymore. it’s too much,” you plead, another orgasm creeping up on you already. “oh, you don’t wanna cum again? okay, baby,” yunho says as he takes his fingers and the vibrator away right before you can cum. you whine, your failed orgasm leaving behind a painful sting. jongho leans forward slightly to kiss your jawline; the sweetest gesture he’s shown so far. while your focus on him, yunho presses the vibrator against you again. your eyes roll into your skull, your previously failure orgasm rushing towards you again. “i’m gonna-” you’re cut off once again by yunho halting all movement. “yuyuuu~,” you whine, your legs begging to close.

“color?” yunho asks once more, placing the now off and very wet vibrator on the floor. through heaving breaths you reply; “yellow.” yunho coos at you, kissing your thighs. “okay, baby. we’ll give you the main event now,” he says as pulls his shirt over his head. jongho slips out from behind you to follow suit. you can’t help but get lost in the sudden lack of body heat. it doesn’t last for long when jongho slots himself between your legs. “i’m gonna get you started, slut. yunho will be all nice, treat your pussy with respect and let you cum, but i won’t. i can’t even be bothered to wear a condom while fucking you.” you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off by shoving his cock completely inside your hole. his length is impressive as it is but the girth is what has your eyes crossing. the stretch stings and it takes over your senses for at least 10 seconds before you come to. 

jongho starts thrusting into you at an almost inhuman pace, loud skin-slapping sounds filling the room. you can’t help but wonder where yunho has run off to. your eyes search the room before finding him sitting on your computer chair, pumping himself while he watches jongho fuck you. your eyes trail down to his cock and you can almost swear your eyes fall out of your head. is it even humanly possible for it to be that long? you can’t wonder for long when you feel another sharp slap come across your face. “look at me, you whore. i know you’re our girl but i’m the one balls deep inside you right now.” your eyes dart back to him, making fierce eye contact. his black hair is sticking to his forehead as he looks down between you. he watches as his cock appears and disappears inside you. “ah fuck, g-gonna cum jongho,” you grip his forearm and wrap your legs around his waist. “i don’t fucking think so,” he says as he pulls out of you, ripping yet another orgasm away from you.

yunho tuts as jongho pulls away from you. “you’re treating her so unfairly. we’ve taken 2 orgasms from her already.” yunho looks at you with such pity that you could almost cry. jongho looks at you like you’re nothing more than a talkative sex doll. “she’s so tight, yunho. i don’t know if she can take both of us at once.” your eyes dart between them, hearing them talk about you taking both at once. “both? what are you talking about? in one hole?” you ramble. they both collectively laugh at your visible panic. “of course. you wanna cum, it has to be on our cocks. that’s your only option, pretty girl,” yunho says to you, followed by the sweetest golden retriever smile. you clench around nothing at the stark contrast between his words and his smile. 

“i can do it!” you cry out, crawling towards them. you grab their arms and look at them with eyes full of desperation. “at least let me try.” yunho caresses the top of your head, making kissy faces at you. “of course you can try. you’re such a good girl, i’m sure you can do it,” he encourages you. jongho scoffs, rolling his eyes. “yeah she can try, but i don’t think it’ll work.” before you can reply with a snarky comment, jongho lifts you bridal style. “your precious yuyu is gonna lay under you, okay?” he explains as yunho lays down on your bed. jongho spins you around and places you chest to chest with yunho. “hi, pretty girl. are you ready?” you nod, still feeling unsure. you feel him reach down between the two of you to align his throbbing cock up with your cunt. he slides in with ease, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. he’s much longer than jongho but jongho’s girth stretched you out enough for yunho to slide in comfortably.

you shiver as you feel a pair of hands run up your ass. “you’re gonna look so fucking slutty with both our cocks inside you, baby.” a sharp smack lands on your ass cheek and you’re almost 100% sure it left a handprint. you feel the tip of jongho’s cock brush your already full hole. as he starts to push into you, yunho brings his lips to yours. he kisses you with soft passion, trying to keep you distracted. the stretch is unbearable, to say the least. you let out strangled moans against yunho’s mouth, scraping your nails into his shoulders. once they’re both bottomed out, they freeze. your walls pulse as you try to adjust. “mmf please move,” you mutter, hoping they could hear you. 

they both pull out simultaneously, emptiness flooding you. they both slam back into you so hard that your whole body jolts forward. your senses are on overdrive, trying to understand the pain and pleasure that fill your abdomen. you’re scared that if you dig your nails into yunho’s shoulders any harder you’ll draw blood. “color?” yunho says, his voice sounding strained. “green, green, oh my god,” you respond. finally, they move in sync with each other, emptying you and refilling you at the same time. “i can’t, i can’t, too much,” you babble, your legs trembling. “yes you can. you were made for this,” jongho replies, slamming into you extra hard. yunho strokes your hair as he thrusts up into you. “i’m so close, please let me cum, i need it, please,” you beg, your eyes watering. yunho and jongho look at each other, as if trying to decide your fate. you know jongho wants to deny you, but yunho just wants your pleasure. “you can cum, you’ve been such a good girl,” yunho encourages. they keep up their unrelenting pace, even as you’re thrown over the edge. “gonna cum inside you, baby. you deserve it,” yunho says, throwing his head back. both him and jongho are close and you can feel it. 

jongho digs his fingers into your hips as his thrusts stutter to a halt, being the first one to blow his load inside you. it coats your abused walls and yunho’s still moving cock. yunho’s orgasm follows soon after, high pitched whines coming from his throat. you feel so full, both loads slowly seeping out of you. they stay inside you for a moment before emptying you. “i’ll go get a towel,” jongho says before rushing into the bathroom across the hall. you stay laying on yunho’s chest as he whispers sweet nothings to you. you feel the rough texture of the towel on your sensitive core, making you flinch. “sorry,” jongho apologizes. 

eventually, you’re falling asleep. you’re still unmoving from yunho’s hold, feeling the most safe there. you can hear your roommates talking to each other but your brain has gone numb. everything buzzes around you as you fall asleep, your body finally giving out.

“sleep well, pretty girl.”

© lomlhwa 2024