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#fortuner key cover
keyceptin · 5 days
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You Won't Believe How This Simple Accessory Protects Your Key!
Your car secret is more than just a tool—it's a critical part of your daily routine, and keeping it secure must be a priority. The precise information? There's a simple solution to shielding your key and beautifying its look and experience. You didn't believe how effective an essential cover may be! From stopping scratches to safeguarding it from unintended drops, this tiny accessory packs a massive punch of protection. You can buy it online from a website but keycept.in has a quality cover. Let's investigate why an essential cover is an ought-to-have accessory for each driving force.
The Importance of Protecting Your Car Key
Car keys today are a ways more advanced than they were once. They're often prepared with digital components, including remote locking systems or keyless entry features. With such a state-of-the-art generation, the vital thing itself is more vulnerable to put on and tear than ever before. Dust, scratches, and unintended drops can harm your automobile key, leading to malfunctions or pricey repairs.
That's where key covers are available. A well-designed essential cover is the primary line of defence in opposition to everyday harm. Whether you're searching out a leather-based critical cover for a premium feel or a silicone essential cover for a smooth and durable choice, there's a variety to pick from.
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How Does a Key Cover Protect Your Key?
A vehicle critical cover acts like a protective guard to your automobile key, presenting numerous vital benefits that make it an essential accent:
Scratch Protection
One of the number one reasons drivers choose key covers is to prevent scratches. Whether your keys are tossed right into a bag with sharp objects or left in your pocket with different keys, the quilt acts as a barrier to ensure your key remains scratch-loose. Leather key covers offer a fashionable and robust answer, while silicone covers offer gentle protection that absorbs the effect.
Dust and Dirt Resistance
Over time, dust and particles could make their manner into the crevices of your car key, particularly around the buttons. This can cause trouble with your key's functionality. A well-outfitted critical case or cover will keep out dust and dirt, ensuring that your key continues operating efficiently.
Shock Absorption
Keys are dropped more frequently than we love to admit. A durable essential made from silicone or TPU material lets you take in the surprise from unintentional drops, minimizing the impact and stopping any internal damage to the key. You received acceptance as accurate, considering how much protection a slight accent like this will provide!
Types of Key Covers You Should Consider
Not all key covers are created identically. Depending on your fashion and wishes, you could pick out from several types:
Leather Key Covers
If you're searching for a top-rate feel and long-lasting protection, leather is the way to move. Leather key covers offer a comfortable fit and are distinctly durable. Plus, they upload a hint of luxury to your key.
Silicone Key Covers
Silicone key covers are a satisfactory choice for people who decide on a softer, bendy option. They're mild, smooth to grip and offer tremendous surprise absorption. Silicone covers are specifically helpful in case you're someone who tends to drop your keys regularly.
Metal Alloy Key Covers
These are best for those who want more excellent sturdiness. Metal alloy key covers no longer hold your key handiest and defend it from scratches and drops; however, they also provide a graceful, contemporary appearance.
Why a Key Cover is a Must-Have Accessory
If you're questioning whether an essential cover is worth the funding, remember this: changing or repairing a broken vehicle key can be steeply expensive. Key fobs and electronic car keys are costly to update, and even minor damage can result in you desiring a substitute or repair. A critical cover is a slightly less expensive accent, which can save you from these costs.
In addition, key covers are customisable. Whether you want a silicone essential cover in your preferred colour or a leather-based critical case that suits your vehicle's interior, countless alternatives are available. Some even come with automobile keychains to bring comfort.
How to Choose the Right Key Cover
When deciding on a car key case, you must ensure it perfectly suits your key. Most key covers are designed for precise models, so whether you have a sedan, SUV, or Tata Car there's a cover designed for you. Ensure that the material you select suits your lifestyle—in case you're at risk of dropping your key, a surprise-soaking silicone cover is probably fine. If fashion is your precedence, a sleek leather cover will be the way to move.
Also, take into account how regularly you use your key. If you're constantly moving, a long-lasting, metal alloy cover offers the proper combination of style and safety.
Conclusion: Give Your Car Key the Protection It Deserves
At the end of the day, a car key cover is an easy accent that can make a large distinction. It's affordable, clean to put in, and offers various advantages—from preventing scratches to protecting against drops. Don't wait until your key is broken—put money into a key cover today and experience peace of mind knowing that your secret is protected.
You gained acceptance as accurate, showing how much more confident you'll feel when you have a stylish, critical cover safeguarding your vehicle key! With many alternatives, there's an excellent cover for every driving force. Your vehicle key merits the pleasant, and now you understand how to deliver it the safety it needs.
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keycomicbooks · 20 days
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Iron Man #213 (1986) Cover By Bob Layton, Written By Danny Fingeroth, Javier Saltares Pencils, Reintroduction of Dominic Fortune 
#IronMan #213 (1986) Cover By #BobLayton, Written By #DannyFingeroth, #JavierSaltares Pencils, Reintroduction of #DominicFortune "Fortune's Child" If you thought the old Dominic Fortune was something, wait until you see the new Dominic Fortune! Plus: the mystery of Sabbath— why must the truth stay hidden?https://www.rarecomicbooks.fashionablewebs.com/IronMan.html#213 @rarecomicbooks Website Link In Bio Page If Applicable. SAVE ON SHIPPING COST - NOW AVAILABLE FOR LOCAL PICK UP IN DELTONA, FLORIDA #RareComicBooks #KeyComicBooks #MCU #MarvelComics #MarvelUniverse #KeyComic #ComicBooks
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halfbit · 4 months
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i am getting started on productivity for the night but haven't figured out yet if i want to write or art first and there's also the tiny part of my brain that just wants to stare at kabru until it is ok to stop staring at kabru
#i don't talk about fandom stuff much here since i don't really get involved with it#but i do fixate on characters and right now i am circling around him like a wolf#tempted to draw him too but i can never capture his big beautiful eyes properly#i've also been tempted to draw beefcake laios but UHHhh thats for another day and i dont know if i will share that LOL#i finished the manga but i haven't had the energy to watch more of the show so i'm just thinking about the characters on my own and going :#also contemplating if i should draw a pride pfp (unrelated)#basically there is so much to do and it is overwhelming to work through the list#and i keep wanting to add more to it#also need to promo my commissions again more and add those sketches still but trying to figure out how to price them and don't have the#energy to type up explanations for them yet blagh#and i'm trying to balance that “realistically- i need more income coming in” with also “but i can't overwhelm myself with tasks”#<- which is very unambiguously clear that i do that just fine even without working on things for other people#is it obvious that my therapist relocated and i haven't been given a new one yet.#i can therapize myself So Good (actually overthinking and spiraling)#<- but please do not worry this is actually not a bad spiral which is good it is just a “things to do” spiral but it is fortunately#missing the key component of doom and horror and the world ending because i did not accomplish everything right#which is what a bad spiral contains and i've actually been on a pretty good streak avoiding those lately in spite of circumstances!#but if i linger on it it will probably turn into a lie so i will stop doing that#speaking of shows i watched the new episode of kaiju no. 8 today and i am just aggghrrhekrjskfj#i love hoshina so much#and he's been getting a lot of focus in these episodes so im happy#i love the way they animate his fights like!! wow#i need to watch them all on sakugabooru later#but i can't tonight if i want to do things#but i will later because they deserve frame-by-frameing#also i'm going to go pick up two volumes of wind breaker tomorrow i think#unfortunately i ordered them before i learned my hours were getting cut but#i have enough to cover my bills this month and since i'm not buying lunches or dinner for myself anymore because i'm not leaving the house#i'd rather just get them now instead of worrying about someone else buying them if i take too long#and let that be my last personal purchase for awhile
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 6 months
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Simon taking care of you when you accidentally injured yourself. Just fluff cuz I need fluff :D .
cw: pet names (princess, love etc.)
“Simon, I’m home!”
You opened the front door, only to see Simon sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he raised his head from the book he was infatuated with these days, and a low hum left him as a welcome.
“I’ll go shower first, the weather’s hot as hell, and I’m stink.”
You tossed the key onto the plate, nonchalantly passed your lover, but Simon could sense the difference in your movements.
“Stop.”
He stood up from the couch, and came straight towards you.
Oh no, you’re so fucked up.
“Hey, Si! I’m dirty! put me down!”
Simon ignored your yelling, scooping you up and over his shoulder.
“Don’t move.”
He demanded, and you swallowed hard when he grabbed your left ankle, and lifted the trouser legs.
“You’re hiding this from me?” His coffee-like brown eyes narrowed in disapproval, throwing you daggers while all you could do was let out a sigh.
“Sorry, Simon. Don’t want to concern you.”
Crooking his eyebrow, Simon darted his eyes back to observe the wound on your left calf. A long, deep cut went across half of your flesh, blood just managed to stop dripping, and fortunately didn’t stick your injury to the clothes.
“Where do you get this?”
“The parking lot of the market. Didn’t see a rock and stumble over it, and the pin sticking out of a wall dug into my leg when I tried to steady myself.” You shrugged.
You knew he was worried and hated to see you get hurt, that’s why you try to sneak to the bathroom and deal with it yourself. Simon’s eyes softened when he learned how you get yourself injured, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t allow you to do things alone for at least a week.
“let’s go shower.” He picked you up swiftly as if you weighed nothing, and you just melted into his touch.
“You gonna help me?” Even though you knew the answer, you still asked when he strode to the bathroom.
“You think there’s other options?”
“... No.”
“Good Girl.” planting a kiss on your forehead, he kicked open the door.
“Close your eyes, don’t want to sting them, love.”
Your satisfied grumble when his hands attentively scratched your head made Simon chuckle. He put you in the warm bathtub, and the little chair looked comical under his bulky stature, but you didn’t laugh at him this time, instead focusing on his hands.
His hands, working magically through your hair, carefully not to tug your hair with too much strength. The hands that always protect you, the hands that are littered with scars, soaked with blood, but massage your shoulders when you are tired, shuffle your hair when you playfully argue with him, place on your belly when he hugs you from behind and whispered his affection to you.
He reserved all his tenderness to you, and you wondered why you were lucky enough to have this man as yours.
“Told you to close your eyes, love.”
You smiled when Simon finally discovered you had been staring at him from the start.
“Am I not allowed to watch my beautiful husband?”
“Don’t complain when the sud run into those pretty eyes then.” He huffed out a laugh.
When it came to you, he just couldn’t do anything but surrender to your adorable cheekiness. He thought when he couldn’t help but give your cheek a peck.
You sat on the edge of your bed now. Simon had dry your hair, and made you put on your underwear and his black shirt.
He was kneeling in front of you now, picking through the gauze and disinfectant. He seemed to find all the things he needed. Placing them aside, he took your ankle in his hand again.
“It’ll hurt a bit.”
He traced circles on your thigh to soothe the pain when he sprayed the antiseptic on your wound and waited for it to dry.
“You’re doing well, love. We’re almost finished.”
He cooed when he saw you blinked away a tear hanging on the corner of your eye.
Nodding, you watched him cover the wound with gauze and secure it.
“Thank you, Si.”
You chanted softly when his thumb caressed on the tape. Simon didn’t let go of your ankle when you thanked him, but landed a kiss beside the gauze.
“A spell for faster healing” The childish glints in his eyes were obvious when he lifted his head to meet your eyes.
“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person, baby.” You poke his cheek with a laugh.
“Guess there’s more of me yet for you to figure out.
He threw the bottles back into the medkit, and finally stood up after kneeling for ten minutes.
“Anything you want now, princess?”
“cuddle with me, Simon. The wound hurts.”
“Who’s the one trying to hide it thirty minutes ago?”
Lying on your back on the bed, his blonde hair shined under the light, but not brighter than the languid smirk he wore on his lips.
“Are you saying you don’t want to cuddle with me now?”
“Are there other options?”
“of course not, handsome.” You worm yourself into the comforter, and beckoned him to join you.
Slump down on the bed, he wiggled himself into his usual cuddling posture, arms snaked around your waist, and covered your belly with his palm.
“Anything for you, love.” You felt he kissed the shell of your ear when your eyes closed under the coziness.
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spicyllewyn · 1 year
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Kinktober 1. - Accidental stimulation.
Marc Spector x F!Reader.
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Tags & warnings. Accidental stimulation + semi-public. (+18)
Word count. 1.4k
Summary. The only space in the car is on your best friend's lap.
Kinktober masterlist.
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Dragging Marc out of his apartment was undoubtedly always an odyssey for anyone who tried it. Fortunately, you had a little something hidden in your pocket called 'the best friend privilege' that always resulted in him fulfilling your whims.
That, and the slight feeling of jealousy that invaded him when you spent time with friends who weren't him.
It was a good day for both of you, after all, no matter how big the group of people you went out with was, it was as if you were always in your little world, just him and you. Chatting alone, walking behind the others, and always taking a few minutes to take photos at your request.
In the end, the rest of your acquaintances had already gotten used to it, and as distant as you might seem, they still loved and included you two. So it was no surprise to either of you that after lunch, the arcade, and the movies, they were relentlessly urged to take you back to one of your apartments.
"There's no way we'll all fit in your car." Six people in a car meant for five. You leaned a little after saying it, your eyes calculating the space in the back seat.
"Sit on Marc." The owner of the car shrugged as he jingled the keys in his hand, waiting for a response. It was a lost battle; both he, Marc, you, and the other ones knew that there was no way out other than simply accepting the offer.
"I'm not sure how safe that is." You hummed, pursing your lips before turning to Marc. "What do you think?"
He shrugged too.
"It's a short ride from here to my apartment."
You sighed; if he was convinced, it meant you were being the difficult one.
In a matter of minutes, everyone was squeezed into the car, you on top of Marc, the others having to shrink their bodies to avoid invading each other's space.
"Sit properly," he murmured, irritated by the way you were sitting almost on his knees to avoid bothering him. Because yes, both of you were basically inseparable, but Marc was a bit of a cat when it came to his relationships – sometimes he wanted physical contact, sometimes he wanted to push you into another room so that he could have some space.
He slid an arm around your waist and pulled your body until your back was leaning against his chest. Of course he didn't think through his actions and the consequences they could bring, or at least that's what he realized when the car passed its first stop and he felt you jump on his lap.
He gasped, low enough that you wouldn't hear it.
“Did you have a good time today?” You whispered as your fingers softly caressed his forearm until you reached the only bracelet Marc wore on his wrist. A gift from you.
He only could hope that you wouldn't see how the hairs on his arm stood up at how delicate your fingers were, causing chills to run down his entire spine.
“Mhm.” It was hard to concentrate with your ass pressed against him like that.
The music in the car wasn't loud enough to be annoying, but it was loud enough to cover your conversation as well as any curses that left Marc's lips. Next to him, one of his friends was dozing, the other was scrolling on her phone lazily.
Marc pretended to settle into place and mentally prayed that you wouldn't feel something between his legs starting to wake up, right against the inside of your thighs.
Was it necessary for you to wear that sundress specifically today?
Another small bump in the road and it was enough for Marc's cock to completely harden while you looked out the window and continued making those imaginary drawings on his arm. Of course you felt it, but there wasn't much you could do about it, especially with the way he held you to his body with his arm.
“Fuck.” He muttered, breathless as you shifted in your spot, returning to sit on his hip after the movement of the road caused you to slide down a few inches.
You could feel his hardness pressing between your legs, at one point the clothes being the only thing stopping him from fucking you mercilessly until your legs wouldn't work. His arm tightened around you and you swore the air was escaping your lungs, not knowing exactly if it was because of the way he was crushing you against him or because you could already feel your underwear becoming damp, a heat that you recognized perfectly in your lower abdomen and between your legs.
He pushed your entire body down with his arm, seeking to satisfy himself with that same friction that the pressure of your body gave him, until, of course, that was no longer enough. He pushed his hips up, a discreet movement, somehow, but you could feel it perfectly.
The fact that you weren't facing him gave you the chance to bite your lower lip and silence any noise that Marc tried to snatch from your throat with his actions.
The second push was less discreet, more desperate. He buried himself between your legs as if he wanted to tear both of your clothes and dig into you once and for all.
“Are they ever going to fix these damn streets?” The boy mumbled from the driver's seat. Small cement bumps provoked the car to make an almost vibrating movement for just a few seconds.
Marc almost fainted.
You knew it was too much for him when his forehead rested against your shoulder, his curls tickling your cheek and making you smile with how agitated you both were. You raised the hand that was on his arm to stroke his hair, pushing a few strands away from his forehead.
That would be the perfect position for both of you, or at least that's what he thought. Plunging into you to the hilt, your walls milking him as he listened to you moan his name loudly, with you pulling his hair and moving your hips to your liking, maybe he'd even let you keep that beautiful dress on, just lifting it up and moving your panties just a little to the side.
But for now, he'd have to settle for this. For the playful way you pulled at his curls as if it would bother him.
On the contrary, he almost made his lip bleed by having to silence the groan that was stuck in his throat. At this point your juices were wetting his pants and that was what gave him the clue that maybe this wasn't bothering you much.
Or nothing at all, he himself could feel you putting pressure on his erection as you pushed your ass down. As well as the way you spread your legs almost imperceptibly to let him settle between your thighs.
“You are going to make me cum on my fucking pants.” He whispered right in your ear, and you swallowed hard.
His left hand, which was between the car door and your body, slid under your dress, where he squeezed your thigh, his nails digging into your skin. You looked to the opposite side to verify that neither of the two guys had their attention on you and without looking away you moved your hips slowly.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
By the fourth movement you felt Marc's arm tighten around your waist to keep you still, he scratched your thigh, you could feel it. He let the air out of his lungs in a sigh of relief.
You felt the warm liquid against your skin making his jeans wetter and stickier.
“Was it left or right on this corner?”
"Left." Marc stammered, his voice slightly breaking as his forehead remained on your shoulder. The rise and fall of his chest moved your entire body now that you were comfortably leaning against it.
You chuckled.
A few more seconds of silence and you trying to ignore the way Marc's body shook as the car went over a couple more bumps.
His poor cock was too sensitive and he was getting over stimulated.
"See?"
You and Marc looked back at him in the rearview mirror. You smiled, he didn't.
“It wasn't that much of a problem.” He unlocked the car from the driver's seat. “You have to learn to accept favors.”
“Well, tell that to Marc.” You cleared your throat as you opened the car door. “He had to carry me all the way, he must be exhausted.”
He pinched your thigh and you chuckled again.
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tag list. @ninebluehearts If you want to be tag please comment it, i'm not adding the usual tag list since i don't know if you want to be tagged on nsfw stuff 👀
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idolindrawer · 1 month
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Snap
IVE Yujin x Male Reader Smut 3.4k words
I'm not a native English speaker, so some expressions might sound odd. I'm always open to suggestions for improvement.
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"Whatever you wish for will come true if you wish for it correctly,” the fortune teller says.
"That's not what I came here for," you say, stubbing out your cigarette in the ashtray with a huff of annoyance. "Don't you have any better advice?"
"This is the best advice I can give you," the fortune teller replies, completely unfazed. "The key is to do it correctly. Wishes need a trigger."
Growing increasingly irritated, you begin snapping your fingers repeatedly to vent your frustration. You came seeking guidance on how to improve your life, but this is a huge disappointment. 
The fortune teller seems oblivious to your anger and says cheerfully, "There you go, use that as your trigger. Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers."
"This is like throwing 50,000 won down the drain," you sigh in exasperation, grabbing your bag and jacket, ready to leave the fortune teller's tent.
"Well, feel free to go,” the fortune teller says, looking surprised as if he had never met a customer who didn't believe in his words. "But it'll be worth 50,000 won if you give it a try."
Because of that fortune teller, the lunch break was wasted. You hurry along the path to your office, but as usual, you get held up by the traffic lights just 200 meters before. Being late is unavoidable.
While waiting, a bank advertisement on a nearby building catches your eyes. A celebrity girl dressed in the bank's signature green gives you a broad smile. You've seen her in other ads before. Isn't her name An Yujin or something? She must be a member of some idol group. You vaguely recall your niece being a huge fan.
Even when you look back at the red light of the traffic signal, you can’t get her out of your mind. How much did she earn from that bank ad, anyway? She’s probably around twenty, but her bank account must hold far more than my lifetime earnings... Damn it.
Seriously, if I were giving that huge amount of money to a young girl like her, I’d demand a much more provocative ad. I’d have her wear a skirt so short that her underwear can be seen in front of the press and have her shamelessly flaunt her ass to the cameras. Now that would be sure-fire marketing! You snap your fingers idly, indulging in this wicked fantasy of degrading celebrities to satisfy your ego.
Suddenly, someone's shoulder bumps into you from behind, jolting you back to reality. The light is green.
Just before leaving work, you scroll through social media and are stunned. It turns out that the girl from the ad you had seen at your lunch break was involved in a promotional event just a few hundred meters away. Moreover, she was wearing a skirt so short that it was almost revealing her underwear. The innocent young girl from the ad photo, now in a video from just two hours earlier, was dressed as if the whole of Korea had run out of fabric, shamelessly revealing her toned thighs to the gathered crowd. With a playful twirl, she revealed a glimpse of her white underwear covering her buttocks.
You happen to recall the words of that fortune teller: "Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers." Did I actually snap my fingers? If so, then that fortune teller must have been a true psychic. If, as he said, wishes can really come true, is there anyone who wouldn't wish for something bigger?
Mesmerized by Yujin's legs on the screen, you swallow hard and imagine her sensual image. Tight-dressed Yujin is kissing in the dimly lit hotel room. As her dress is unzipped, black lace lingerie is revealed. Her buttocks are just covered with a bare minimum G-string, which she teasingly lets fall to her ankles, spreading her legs to accept the cock...
You snap your fingers once, forcefully. If this is going to work, the closer to her, the better chances might be. The event should have ended about an hour and a half ago, but is she still there? Hastily gathering your belongings, you clock out and run out of the office building towards the event venue.
The streets around the venue are teeming with people who have gathered information from social media, yet Yujin is nowhere to be seen. Disappointed to find that the event has ended, most people slowly drift into nearby cafes. Some remain standing, visibly dissatisfied, and frantically searching social media for any trace of her.
You open social media, but find it worthless due to the numerous accounts already capitalizing on her popularity and leveraging it to gain attention. “We're selling rare photo cards!” “Try this dating app for guaranteed meet-ups.” #IVE #YUJIN “Click here for an AI-generated celebrity sex tape...” In the sample video, a porn star with Yujin's face, digitally altered and occasionally glitching, kisses a naked man in a hotel room. His hand reaches for the zipper at her back, unzipping it to reveal her skin, which is trimmed with black lace lingerie...
Wait, can this really be the wish come true? The video is eerily close to what I imagined, but if this is it, then it’s a joke taken too far. The fortune teller must have been a fraud after all. Feeling everything is suddenly absurd, you shove your phone into your pocket and start walking toward the station.
Near the venue, the same posters of Yujin that you saw during the day are displayed, her trusting smile reaching out to you. The fortune teller's words echo in your mind: "The key is to do it correctly." What if the fortune teller was a genuine psychic, and the way to wish was wrong? The first wish came true, after all, and her sex was pulled off even in a rubbish way. It might be too early to conclude that he is a fake psychic.
There could be several reasons for the failure, but simply imagining her sex scene wasn't enough. That is, it requires imagining myself having sex with her. As vividly as possible, the feel of her body, myself slipping in between her legs...
You imagine carefully, snapping your fingers. Fate should take care of the rest. If this doesn't work, tomorrow I'll storm back to that fortune teller and demand my money back.
Before catching the train at the station, you detour slightly to use the public restroom. Using this station over 250 days a year, you know exactly where to find the always empty and relatively clean toilets.
You finish your business, wash your hands carelessly, and as you lift your head to see a tall girl staring at you from the mirror. Her white skirt is so short that her underwear is almost visible.
"An Yujin...ssi?"
It's definitely her. She's wearing the same outfit she had on at the daytime event, her arms crossed, looking slightly displeased at you.
"Why are you here?" you ask timidly. 
"Isn't this what you wanted?" With that, Yujin strides towards you, her hand reaching for the belt of your pants without hesitation. "Let's get this over with." 
Intimidated by the girl's boldness, you calmly scan the surroundings to ensure it’s safe, then guide her by the arm into the cleanest stall you can find.
"Are you the real An Yujin?" You whisper, keeping your voice low to avoid being heard. 
"There's another me?" She glances at you exasperatedly, then returns to dealing with your pants. With the same detachment as unlocking a door, she unbuckles your belt, lowers the zipper, and pulls off your pants. Her movements are awkward, but she's completely focused on her task, as if you weren’t even there, and that annoys you a little.
Despite her businesslike demeanor, every time her slender fingers brush against your lower body, your cock stiffens with the intimacy of contact you haven't felt in a long time and the anticipation of what's to come.
“But I haven't done anything yet?” Her fingers caress through your underwear, confirming your arousal. Looking satisfied with the heat of your groin, she smiles.
“May I take these off?” Before you can even nod, she’s already crouching down, pulling the waistband of your boxer briefs down to your ankles, revealing you completely.
Yujin remains crouched, staring at your exposed cock with interest. As you glance down, you notice her tight white mini shorts peeking out from under her skirt. Your cock responds to it, twitching with excitement before her eyes.
“You like being watched, huh?” Yujin says with a knowing smile. As she wraps her hand around your cock, giving it a few strokes, she stands up. You, expecting oral sex or something more, are disappointed and surprised. 
“Hey, is that all?”
"I'll do what you wished," she says with a mischievous grin. Then, balancing on her tiptoes and spreading her legs slightly, she holds your cock between the middle of her thighs carefully. "Feel free to move.”
You realize you've messed up again. When you snapped your fingers, you may have been too focused on her legs, and the wish was misinterpreted as thighfuck with her.
“Uh, wait a moment, let me snap my fingers again. This time, I’ll do it right,” you babble in a flustered tone, causing Yujin to look at you with curiosity. “Snap your fingers? What do you mean? Are you already satisfied?”
No way. The wish may have been downgraded, but it's the worst outcome to lose the favorable situation that's already come true. You pull yourself together and direct your full attention on the sensations of her two legs.
Her thighs are curvaceous compared to her slender waist, wrapping around your shaft and transferring her warmth from all directions. As you hold onto her thighs and move your body slowly back and forth, you can feel her bare, soft skin follow together, and the firm muscle layer beneath grips your cock tightly and never releases it.
"Your legs are incredibly gorgeous," you mutter, and for the first time, Yujin looks genuinely embarrassed. It's unclear why this celebrity girl was sent here, but it’s clear that she’s here to provide sexual services to this stranger, so why not make the most of it?
You put your hands on her hips and accelerate the reciprocating motions. As you press your lower body against her legs, the silky surface of her thighs ripples in response. Yujin grips your shoulders to stay balanced, trying to keep steady despite the constant kinetic energy. Your chin rests on her shoulder, and her hair brushes against your face. The sweet scent of her conditioner unexpectedly captivates you.
As sweat beads on your forehead, you wonder why, even though the wish was downgraded, things are still happening that you didn’t expect. Perhaps there’s no rule saying that once a wish is granted in a silly way, nothing else can occur. It might be up to the one who wished to make use of the situation.
To get the most out of the circumstances, you begin to secretly explore the boundary. Slide your hands back on her hips slightly, then cover her ass. There is no indication of her resistance. You knead on Yujin’s tight buttocks and move as if you were thrusting her. It seemed you heard a faint noise leak out of her mouth, but she didn’t stop you.
Then you bring your hands a little bit towards her waist, slipping them under the hem of Yujin’s blouse. Carefully touching her bra in her clothes, your eyes meet hers.
"Can I touch them?"
“Get it done quickly, okay?” Yujin says, looking away. You take that as approval and rub her breasts roughly. She's wearing something like a bandeau bra with no wires underneath her clothing, and you can feel the softness of her breasts even though they’re covered with the bra. But seized by an inevitable urge to see the hardness at the center, you forcefully pull the bra down.
Yujin's breasts are perfectly proportioned, and their distinct curvature and firmness bring a sense of satisfaction. When you touch their smoothness, you’re amazed to see your fingers sinking more than you expected. At the center, a reddish-brown areola the size of a coin surrounds a taut, protruding nipple. You pinch them lightly, then electricity runs through her body. She bashfully covers her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to hide her rough breath.
When you get carried away and go to kiss her, she pulls you away. With her flushed face, she said, “Focus on finishing this” while suffering the pleasure of her upper body.
As you explore Yujin’s youthful body freely, your cock is growing more sensitive and nearing release under the pressure of her thighs. However, your overwhelming passion for the ultimate goal makes it impossible to be satisfied with just releasing your desire between her legs.
“But I wanna be inside you.”
“Just come like this,” she responds bluntly. Expecting this answer, you decided to try another approach.
You stop moving for a moment, pull the hot shaft out from between her legs, lift her hips up, and then push it back in, at a higher position than before, so it can rub against her mini shorts.
“Wait, what are you…” Yujin becomes upset, but when you start moving it, she lets out a small moan. Thrusting your thickness, you can feel the softness of her pussy through the fabric. As you adjust the angle to hit her sweet spot, her hips twitch slightly in response to the pleasure.
Yujin grabs your shoulders and lowers her head, rounding her back to resist the temptation. Although you can't see her face, her shallow, quickened breaths sync with your sensation. You shift one of your hands from her hips to her chest, palming her breast and teasing her nipple with your fingertips.
Her short cry echoes in the empty train station restroom, and both you and she look at each other in surprise. The air feels frozen for a moment, but as you realize there’s no one around to hear it, you both resume the session.
As you gaze into Yujin's eyes, she meets your stare with disheveled hair and a messy face. She is flushed and damp with sweat, and her eyebrows are filled with shame and pleasure. Every time you tease her breasts with a nipple, she bites her lower lip, indicating that your treatment isn’t wrong.
“Keep going,” Yujin murmured with words that were neither order nor plea, revealing her desperate need for ecstasy. You see this as an opportunity to negotiate with her in the heat of the moment.
"After I get it into you," you say clearly, and Yujin seems unsure of how to respond, looking confused. The wish granted you fake sex with IVE's Yujin, but if you want anything more, you’ll have to achieve it on your own. So, does this mean that the An Yujin in front of you is genuinely struggling with whether or not to accept your cock, regardless of the power of the wish?
You think the last push is necessary and sneak your hand inside her shorts, searching for her clit. Her pussy is already soaking wet, and as you slide your fingers on her sensitive skin, which is coated with lube, unbearable pleasure spreads throughout her body. Yujin lets out a muffled moan, and she hugs your neck to keep herself from collapsing. Finally, she gives in and says, "Okay, okay.”
She looks at you awkwardly, pinches the waistband of her shorts, and then lowers them with a polite gesture. As she lifts her leg and removes the high heels from her shorts, you catch a glimpse of her completely shaved pussy. With a hand on the stall door, she turns around and slightly lifts her skirt, presenting her buttocks to you.
"Oppa, hurry up.”
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Her curt tone sounded like a cheap whore, which rather turned you on. You place your cock against her wet labia and press gently. You are permitted to enter through her moist skin and proceed into her feverish depth. As your head glides along with her mucus walls, she groans in sensation. Retracing the path, you feel her pussy waves and grips your cock tightly, pulling you back to inside.
While you teasingly savor her insides, Yujin gestures with her sweaty hand to thrust more. You grab her waist roughly and drag her buttocks toward your pelvis. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the empty restroom, her buttocks undulating, and the young idol's unrestrained cries fill the air.
Yujin's breathing becomes irregular and intense as a result of your relentless thrusting. She tries to soften the impact by moving away from you, but the small stall offers no escape. Despite her effort, the insistent slamming continues unabated, and she appears to be on the edge of collapse.
“Oppa, I need a…" She manages to whisper, shaken by the assault from behind. You pretend not to hear her while constantly stirring her pussy. You fiercely grasp the artistic shape of her ass with both hands, thrusting the heated shaft in and out of the lubricated hole in the center.
With one thrust, Yujin rounds her back and convulses her whole body. After a few seconds of trembling, exhaustion overwhelms her, and she’s about to fall. You quickly catch her, turn her around, and sit her down on the lid of the closed toilet.
Her face is flushed red, and she is barely catching her breath. Her nipples move up and down as she breathes, and her legs hang on either side of the toilet, displaying her undressed lower body. The contrast with her cheerful smile in the advertisement is intensely stimulating, but you avoid staring at her to keep her from realizing how she looks now and getting back to reality.
Yujin's inner thighs are glistening with a few streaks of wetness. You take and place them on your shoulders, inserting your still-hot cock from the front. She moans softly and becomes addicted to the sensation of your shaft stretching out her vagina.
As you push your cock through her labia and into her depth, the force causes her breasts to jiggle. You are immersed in the awareness of your movements piercing through her entire body, unable to stop yourself from moving frantically. Instinct guides your hands to her swinging breasts, your lips to her sweat-slicked neck, and then to her lips for a kiss. This time, Yujin doesn’t resist and gives in to your approach. You and this idol caress each other's lips, entwine their tongues, and share the taste of saliva.
Slamming your shaft into Yujin's pussy, you rub her clit with the thumb of one hand a few times. She twists her face and manages to remain silent in a desperate effort, but as the moment of release approaches again, her expression turns into a mix of fear and anticipation.
She presses both hands against her mouth, and after a split-second of weakness, her body trembles with orgasm on the toilet lid. Her inside is spasming around your cock, but you can't stop moving because you feel the dopamine approaching. Thrusting her lube-soaked, fluttering cunt just a few times, hot semen rushes into her depths.
Breathing heavily, you and Yujin watch the cock is pulled out of her pussy, which is glistening with mucus, and the sperm runs out. Yujin's hair is tangled, and she appears fatigued, but there is a strange satisfaction on her face as she looks at the spilled secretions.
As you're wrapping the toilet paper, you hear a few men entering the restroom. Hey, come on. It's gonna take a while to get out. The instant you are distracted by the noise outside, you feel a warm, wet touch on your lower body. Yujin is bending over, eagerly putting your cock into her mouth, and bobbing her head to suck out every last drop of your cum. Surprised, yet unable to resist the seductive sensation of her tongue gliding over your shaft, your cock quickly returns to its earlier state.
"Looks like we can't go out yet," leaving lips from your cock, Yujin whispers teasingly. "There's still time for another round, right?” she says, carefully sitting back down on the toilet lid so as not to make any noise, and spreading her graceful long legs wide.
Damn, it’s really worth 50,000 won.
974 notes · View notes
a-leg-without-fear · 2 months
Text
Sweet Dreams, TN🩸🔥
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shower smut with logan won the poll because of course it did. i love y'all, you horny bastards (affectionate)
Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader🩸
Rating: 18+
Worcount: 4.7k words of pure sin
Warnings: cursing, shower sex, foreplay, choking, groping, fingering, grinding, biting, bloodplay, marking, Logan's dirty mouth, light dom/sub, overstimulation, unprotected p in v sex (use protection pls), uneven refractory period
Song: Sweet Dreams, TN by The Last Shadow Puppets
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Hot water rained down on you from the shower head. Steam poured off your warm body, lavender soap washed away by the thin streams of water, hair plastered to your scalp and neck. A small hum came from between your closed lips. Something indistinct, a little off key, to keep your mind occupied while you rinsed off your arms.
It had been a good day in the mansion. Class went well, the students following your instruction on pinch pots to the T, hardly any children lashing out during your instruction. One of the kids, Shauna, had stayed behind after class to give you a drawing. A scribbled sketch of you, her, and a handful of other classmates drawn in colorful crayon. That had earned her a tight hug and a heartfelt thank you. The drawing was now pinned to the corkboard above your desk amongst dozens of other students’ drawings.
You loved your kids. You really, truly did. Having the good fortune of being able to teach them art was one of the best parts of your long life. Spreading the joy of artistic expression to the young folks around you, the calming aspect of coloring a sketch or the soothing feel of clay between your fingers, was what got you out of bed in the morning.
Just as you were reaching for your hair conditioner, the leaf-patterned shower curtain rustled and drew back from the wall behind you. You let out a hum of acknowledgement.
“Evening, Lo,” you said over your bare shoulder, a warm smirk turning up the corners of your lips. Your gaze was graced by the sight of a naked Logan behind you.
Warm, brown hair styled in two fluffy points, toned chest covered in dark curls, pronounced abs leading into more crisp, dark hair. You snapped your eyes back to his face to keep from staring. A cocky grin tugged on his lips.
“Hey there, doll,” he replied. Thick arms wrapped around your waist, gently tugging you backwards. Your back, covered in water droplets, collided with Logan’s chest. A breathy laugh came from your widening smile.
“Impatient, are we?” you asked teasingly. Your question was met with Logan trailing his lips up and down your exposed neck. An occasional nip with his canines here and there, scruffy beard scratching on your sensitive skin.
“You were taking too long,” Logan uttered as he nipped under your ear. Large, calloused hands began smoothing over your soaked skin. You shuddered against Logan, letting your head fall back against his broad shoulder.
“I’ve only been in the shower for ten minutes, Lo,” you breathed. You felt a puff of air brush against your neck as he huffed. 
“Still too long,” he said, snapping his teeth next to your earlobe. Logan’s hips rolled against your thighs. You could feel his half-hard cock grind between your legs. A choked moan leaked through your lips.
“Logan,” you whimpered under your breath. One of his warm hands traveled back up your body and wrapped loosely around your throat. You whined, high-pitched and needy, as your eyes fell closed.
His other hand continued its path south, smoothing water into your twitching skin, fingers pinching and teasing as they went. Sharp teeth scratched at the skin under your jaw.
“Tell me to stop and I will, doll. Don’t wanna interrupt your shower routine,” he whispered kindly into your skin. 
Your mind was utterly reeling. Consciousness split between a hand on your throat, fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip, Logan’s cock against the back of your legs, hot water pouring on your front. It was nearly impossible to form a coherent sentence with how wrecked you already felt. You cleared your throat, swallowing a knot the size of a baseball.
“All I have left is hair conditioner,” you said. Logan’s chest rumbled with a thoughtful hum. His hands retreated in their path to rest gently on your waist.
“Then don’t let me keep you,” he purred, thumbs massaging at your lowest ribs. His lazy grinding against your ass had stopped. You whined, nuzzling your nose into Logan’s stubble-covered throat.
“Please, Lo,” you uttered. You licked at the droplets of water gathering under his jaw, trying to tempt him back into touching you. Logan hummed again. His hazel eyes peered down at you.
“Once you’re done, doll. Then I’ll reward ya,” he said reassuringly. He used his shoulder to nudge you forward, practically prying your naked bodies apart. 
You huffed, frustrated and horny, as you leaned down to pick up your conditioner bottle. The white container sat mockingly in your wrinkling hand. Why should it control whether you get dicked down by the gorgeous man behind you? What right did this bottle of hair conditioner have to keep you from a good fucking?
“Staring at the conditioner ain’t gonna put it in your hair, doll,” Logan teased from behind you. You grumbled at his words, popping open the lid and squeezing the pale conditioner into your palm. You set the accursed bottle back on its shelf.
“It’s an asshole,” you said. That earned you a surprised laugh that shook Logan’s chest. The deep sound bounced off the tile walls and settled deep in your bones. A small grin pulled at your deep frown.
“And what did the bottle do to earn that title?” Logan chuckled. His thumbs continued to trace the lines of your ribs. You sighed while massaging the conditioner between your palms.
“It’s a fucking cockblock, Lo. How dare it keep your hands off me?” you griped, raising your arms to rub the conditioner into the ends of your hair. The flowery, clean scent filled the steam rising from both your and Logan’s bodies.
Logan’s fingers squeezed the soft flesh at your sides, earning a shocked yelp and an elbow to his ribs. He smirked at your response, “My hands are still on you.”
“You know what I mean,” you groused. 
Your fingers wove through your hair as you lathered the strands in cream-colored conditioner. You could just barely feel Logan’s chest brushing against your back. His hands smoothed up and down your sides, a hum of adoration slipping from his lips now and then.
When it came time to rinse your hair out, Logan’s grip on your waist tightened, keeping you from sticking your head under the water.
“Wait,” he said, hands lifting to rest on your shoulders. You cocked an eyebrow at him from over your shoulder. His brow furrowed, clearing his throat, “I… Can I wash your hair for you?”
The pure, unadulterated affection that flowed from that question punched you in the gut like an MMA fighter. You were utterly stunned. Mouth hanging open, eyes wide, breath halted in your lungs. Logan shifted uncomfortably under your perplexed stare.
“Forget it, it’s not-”
“Yes!” you said loudly, cutting him off. He looked taken aback at your exclamation. You turned in his hold so you could face him, palms resting on his chest, “You can wash my hair, Lo. It’s just… The last thing I expected you to ask.”
“Oh,” he sighed, relieved. A small, fond grin grew across his previously grumpy expression. He used the grip on your shoulders to walk you backwards. 
You matched his movement, eyes tracing the crow’s feet around his eyes, until you felt the hot water raining from the shower head pelting your back. Your eyes squinted as water dripped from your scalp and into your face. Logan breathed a chuckle at you, then his hands traveled up your neck and buried his fingers in your hair.
An involuntary, quiet moan slinked up your throat as rough calluses scraped along your scalp. Your eyes fluttered closed. Logan’s fingers massaged between strands of soaked hair, hitting all the spots that made your eyes roll back beneath your eyelids.
“Feel good?” Logan muttered, breath fanning across your damp cheeks. His pinkies dug into a spot at the base of your skull that made your toes curl. You gnawed on your bottom lip to prevent any more embarrassing noises.
You felt the faintest brush of Logan’s lips on yours. A ghost of a feeling, like the whisper of a summer breeze. Your fingers twitched against his chest. 
“How do I know your hair’s rinsed?” he asked. The buzz of the words on his lips vibrated your own. A needy whine clawed at the base of your throat.
“Not- Not slick anymore,” was all you could murmur. Your back arched, chest pressing against his, when he started massaging at the tense muscles in your neck. Heavy, warm strokes that eased any tension remaining along your shoulders. Logan chuckled above you.
“Your hair, or your cunt?” he whispered against your chewed lips. Your thighs clenched together around nothing. Burning arousal pooled in your stomach, your spine shivering beneath your flushed skin.
“Definitely hair,” you replied, a breathless laugh leaving your clenched jaw. You felt the smirk dance on Logan’s lips against your own. His fingers pulled through your hair, ringing the last remnants of conditioner out of the soaked strands. A light groan rattled your throat as he pulled on your roots.
Satisfied with his work, Logan slipped his fingers out of your hair and placed his palms on your waist again. It took a lot of effort to open your eyes.
Some of the water showering down on you had apparently reached Logan, as his dark hair laid flat against his scalp, slicked back away from his face. Thick droplets of water dripped from his soaked beard. Fond, wrinkled eyes traced along your face.
“How’d I do?” he asked. You lifted a hand from his chest, the limb feeling a hundred pounds heavier, and felt along the ends of your hair. Perfectly rinsed. Not a spot of conditioner left. You grinned up at him.
“A plus. Top marks,” you answered. His chest rumbled with a fond hum as he pulled you tighter against his chest. Knuckles traced along your spine, the rough joints digging into your back every other vertebrae. 
“And what do I get for such a high grade?” he questioned, hands shifting from stroking your back to gripping the plush skin of your ass. A startled gasp burst from your closed lips. Your nails dug into the firm muscle that lined his chest. 
“I thought you were rewarding me?” you replied shakily. Firm, rough squeezes of Logan’s long fingers on your ass kicked the air from your lungs. You could feel your knees start to buckle.
Logan ducked his head to nip under your chin. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses trailed along your quickly heating skin. Sharp drags of his teeth elicited quick, quiet moans from your lungs. His hot tongue trailed up the underside of your jaw and stopped just below your earlobe.
“I suppose I can make an exception this time,” he drawled in your ear, breath stirring the falling drops of water on your skin. Your hips bucked forward involuntarily. The trembling skin of your stomach rubbed against Logan’s fully hard cock. He groaned, pressing his cheek to yours, grinding his leaking tip into your abdomen.
“Logan,” you whined, nails scratching deep crescents into his skin. The grip on your ass tightened, pulling you impossibly closer to him, a deep growl rolling through his chest. Hot pants fell from his mouth as he continued to grind into you. 
The tile walls blurred as Logan spun you in his arms. Your back pinned against his chest, his cock wedged between your legs, his right arm wrapped around your throat, left hand gripping your hip. A startled moan punched its way out of your mouth.
“How many times do you think I can make you come, hotstuff? Three, four times?” he purred into your ear. The arm around your neck squeezed, choking you lightly, making your head spin. 
Gasping whimpers cascaded past your swollen lips. The heat gathering between your thighs spread through your whole body like a tidal wave. A sinful, aching need coursing through your veins. 
Logan’s fingers trailed down your stomach as he loosened his hold on your throat. The room around you swam amongst a sea of clouded desire. Your breath came back to you in brief spurts, your chest heaving and legs trembling.
“Hmm. Guess we’ll have to find out,” Logan said, then nipped at your earlobe while his middle finger traced a lazy circle around your clit. Your head flew back against his shoulder. Electric shocks of bliss radiated from where he rubbed at your bundle of nerves.
“God, fuck! Logan!” you exclaimed through clenched teeth. He placed a firm kiss beneath the hinge of your jaw. Your mind was short circuiting. It felt like your entire existence was focused on Logan’s fingers rubbing and pinching and lightly scratching at your clit. Your knees threatened to give out. You clawed at the arm wrapped around your neck.
“That’s a good girl. Shh, you’re being so good,” he breathed into your skin. Rough grunts filled your ear as he continued to grind against your ass. 
He shifted his hand, his palm digging into your clit as his fingers stroked up and down your folds. You squirmed in his tight hold. Nails scratching at the skin of his forearm, pinpricks of blood left in your scrabbling wake. Logan pressed his lips to your temple.
“I’ve got you, doll,” he whispered, breath stirring the hair along your forehead. 
The pressure from the heel of Logan’s palm lessened as his middle finger pushed inside you. Rough skin and bony knuckles hit every single nerve ending. The stretch of his finger was absolutely exquisite. Not nearly enough to dull the burning need inside you, but filling you just enough to leave you panting and wanting more.
He brushed the pad of his fingertip against that spongy spot inside you. White stars dotted along the edges of your blurred vision. Euphoria poured into your veins like a raging waterfall. The loud moan that threatened to escape your lips was cut off as Logan squeezed his arm, choking you. Your eyes rolled back in your head again.
The sensation of his finger sliding in and out of you was only intensified by the vice he had on your throat. Soft-edged pleasure filled your mind with nothing but Logan. His fingers on and inside you, his warm breath on your temple, his cock grinding against you.
He added his pointer finger on the next push inside you. You stretched around the digits, arousal coating them in slick. Logan grunted in your ear.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned. The grip on your throat lessened once again, humid air filling your strained lungs. His fingers glided inside you and brushed that spot, making you keen and whimper, then slid back out. 
A quick, brutal pace was set as he fingered you. Heel of Logan’s palm grinding against your clit, fingers pistoning in your cunt, arm squeezing and choking your neck. All you could do was cling to his forearm for dear life. That knot in your core twisted and churned with every shove of his fingers inside you. Unbridled ecstasy coated your bloodstream, shoving you further and further under the brutal waves drowning you with pleasure.
An enormous wave threatened to crash over you. The knot tightened, your breath hitched, your knees gave out. Logan cradled you against his chest as he continued to finger-fuck you. Delicate praise whispered through gritted teeth filtered through your swirling senses. You distantly thought of how lucky it was that Logan could support your entire weight, seeing as your legs no longer functioned.
The brief, wandering thought was quickly shoved from your mind when Logan added his ring finger inside you. Three thick, long digits fucking into you at a brutal pace. Every shove inside you brushing against the spot that held you beneath those waves. Warm, honeyed pleasure filled your lungs. That tidal wave crested over your helpless body. Your cunt clenched around Logan’s fingers. You felt a feral grin spread over the lips pressed to your temple.
“That’s it. Come for me, sugar,” Logan grunted into your ear. With one final squeeze around your throat, the wave came crashing down on top of you.
World-encompassing rapture flooded your senses. Violent swells of utter euphoria crashed into you, over and over again. Your mind exploded into fractured glass, your lungs stuttered behind your ribs, your eyes screwed shut. Loud, choked moans threatened to break through the barrier Logan built with his arm locked around your throat.
You barely felt alive. The destruction and devastation that lay in the wake of your climax left you shivering in Logan’s arms. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your chest heaved when the vice around your neck loosened, your fingers gripping limply at Logan’s arm.
But he didn’t let up. He kept pounding into you at the same brutal pace, palm slapping wetly against your clit. You squirmed in his hold. Desperate pleas fell from your lips. You clawed and scraped at his forearm.
“Lo- I can’t- I- Logan, please,” you begged. Logan nipped at your hairline, shifting the arm around your throat down to grip around your waist, holding you flush against him.
“You can, doll. You can give me one more,” he said, biting at the column of your neck. The grinding of his cock on your ass ceased as he focused entirely on dragging you into another orgasm. You writhed against his chest, a sob rattling inside your chest.
The growing wave above you climbed higher and higher. Every pound inside you sent ripples of sharp heat coursing through your body. It was nearly nauseating, how quick the knot built up in your core. Almost painful how the surges of pleasure overtook your dazed mind.
Your orgasm rocked through you like a kick to the chest. Choked sobs wracked your trembling body, splashes of rapture coating your lungs and throat, leaving you a shaking and blubbering mess. Incoherent strings of curses and Logan’s name fell from your gaped mouth.
It seemed Logan had taken pity on you, as he withdrew his hand from between your thighs. A strained, relieved sigh broke through the incomprehensible noises and words streaming from your lips. He placed chaste kisses along the side of your face.
“Shhh, good girl. That’s my good girl,” Logan murmured against your temple. He rubbed soothing circles into your oversensitive skin. Heavy pants heaved out of you. The floor swayed beneath you, jets of hot water beating at you like hail on a window.
You gulped the steam-filled air into your lungs. Electric aftershocks made you shudder at each brush of Logan’s fingers on your body or his lips on your neck. The room around you returned to your vision in bits and pieces. White tiles lined in gray grout, yellow shower curtain decorated in painted leaves, silver handles and shower head, white hair conditioner bottle sitting on a clear plastic shelf.
“H-Holy shit, Lo,” you gasped. You felt a proud smile cross the lips pressed against your jaw. The arm tucked along your waist smoothed up and down your stomach. Gentle glides of his palms and fond kisses along your neck cleared the cloud that filled your mind. 
“Back with us?” he asked, setting you down on your unsteady feet. He held you upright as you found your footing on the slick shower floor. 
“Yeah. I think so,” you said as you turned to face Logan. As soon as your chest was pressed to his, a warm hand tucked under your chin and brought your lips to his. Gentle, sweet, relaxed. His tongue passed through your lips and licked into your pliant mouth. A light sigh escaped your throat and slipped between you.
“We can pause for a bit,” he whispered as he pulled back. A touch of concern furrowed between his dark brows. His thumb ran along your chin as he searched your eyes for hesitancy.
“No need,” you said, throwing him a lopsided smile as you carded your fingers through his drenched hair. You looped your arms around his shoulders, “I’m good to go. Wreck me all you want.”
The same feral grin you felt against your temple stretched across Logan’s lips. Sharp canines bared, eyes wide and looking at you like you were dinner. Excitement reawakened the arousal that had subsided in your abdomen.
Logan’s large hands scooped under your thighs and slammed your back against the slippery tile wall, your legs wrapping around his hips, as his mouth crashed into yours. His cock grinded into your oversensitive folds, flushed tip brushing at your clit. High, airy moans filtered from your throat and into the space your mouths shared. Your fingers buried themselves in his drenched hair.
A low growl left Logan’s chest when you tugged at his roots. His hips snapped forward, fingers digging into thick flesh, crisp hair at the base of his cock scraping the inside of your thighs.
“Shit, Lo, please just fuck me already,” you whined into his open mouth. Your hips moved in rhythm with Logan’s, desperation beginning to claw at your throat. Scalding waves of needneedneed coated your body in thick honey. 
Water cascaded down your bodies as Logan angled his hips to line up with your entrance. Anticipation burned away at your nerve endings.
The slow push inside, stretching and straining your soaked cunt to the limit, thick cock brushing against every bump and ridge. Your back bowed off the tile wall, pain and pleasure making an intoxicating concoction between your thighs. Blunt nails scraped at Logan’s shoulders. 
When, at last, he was fully sheathed inside you, he paused to allow you to adjust. His hazel eyes remained locked with yours, fingers squeezing at the skin along your thighs, gasping breath mingling with yours. 
He released his hold on one of your legs and directed you to bear your own weight. Your other leg remained hiked up over his hip. His forearm rested on the tile by your head as he leaned over you. The change in position drove him impossibly deeper inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you moaned.
“Ah- fuck, doll. Good?” Logan grunted next to your ear. You nodded, fingers burying themselves deeper in his hair. 
He tightened his grip on your leg as he pulled out. The slick glide overpowered your mind, sparks igniting on the edges of your vision. Logan wasted no time before thrusting back inside you to the hilt. A sharp groan shot out of your lips. His mouth crashed into yours as he set a slow, grinding pace. Hips barely leaving the inside of your thighs before rutting his cock against that spot inside you. 
“Sh-it!” you whined into Logan’s mouth. Every slow pull along your walls knocked the breath from your lungs. The skin above his cock, firm with taut muscle, rubbed at your aching clit. Shockwaves of pleasure centered on your cunt ricocheted through your body. 
You wouldn’t last long. Not with the remnants of your two previous orgasms hanging over you like a dense fog. You felt submerged in an ocean of sin. Dancing sunlight filtering through roaring waves above your head. Deep blue surrounding you on all sides. Thick, molasses leaden desire filling your lungs and making you gasp.
Logan’s teeth scraped at the skin above the artery in your neck. Canines digging into the flesh and drawing small droplets of blood. The arm he had braced above your head tangled in your freshly washed hair. He tilted your head to drink from the wine your body willingly provided.
This orgasm didn’t wash over you, it yanked. Grabbing you by the ankles and pulling your feet out from under you, sending you careening into a void of white hot ecstasy that coated you like black ink. 
“Fuck, yes, that’s a good girl,” Logan groaned against your throat as he withdrew from your cunt. Before you could blink you were spun in place, chest pressed against the tiled wall, knee hiked up by Logan’s hand. 
Tremors from your climax still rattled your joints as he pushed back inside you. His chest pressing into your back, lips wrapping around the cut in your neck, hand not supporting your leg squeezing at your breast. Rough fingers rolled your nipple between callused pads.
You could barely breathe after Logan started pounding into you. Cock ramming into you so hard you knew you’d walk funny for a week. Your hands scratched helplessly at the white tile. His teeth scraped at the thin skin under your ear, grunts thick with pleasure bouncing off the wall in front of you. You reached a hand over your shoulder and threaded your fingers in his hair, holding his mouth to your throat.
“B-Bite me, Lo. Mark me,” you breathed. He needed no further encouragement. His sharp canines pierced your skin and dug into your veins. You cried out at the intrusion in your flesh. Fresh, hot blood leaked from the bites and into Logan’s waiting mouth. You felt his breath hitch against your neck.
“God, vampire. I- fuck!” he panted. The hand holding your leg squeezed bruises into your thigh, the beginnings of painted blues and purples covering your flushed skin. Logan’s hips stuttered against your thighs. You could feel his chest heaving. It seemed the relentless fucking was absolutely destroying you both.
The large hand playing with your breast slipped between your thighs. Lazy, distracted circles rubbed into your overstimulated clit. You lurched against Logan’s chest. Head falling back on his broad shoulder, fingers squeezing damp hair, hips bucking to match his steadily slowing thrusts. 
A jagged groan stirred against your throat as Logan came undone, cock buried deep and spilling inside you. His heavy head fell to your shoulder. Heaving breaths gusted from his lips and blew the remaining water droplets off your heated skin. 
You only had a moment to breathe before he rubbed at your clit with new fervor. Cock still within your cunt, release leaking out of you and down your legs, teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw. 
“Gimme one more. C’mon, vampire. You can do it,” Logan said. He licked up the streams of blood spilling from the cuts in your neck. Your head spun, lungs feeling far too empty, cunt pulsing around his softening cock.
An explosion of stabbing, almost painful euphoria burst from your core and burned the rest of your body. Rubble crashed into your skin, fire burned at your senses, smoke filled your already heaving lungs. Your vision blacked out as your climax wiped your mind clean. 
You felt like you were drifting on a raft in a lazy river. Cool water ushering your limp body down a calm stream. An occasional wave rocking the raft to and fro. Warm sun streaming through breaks in the trees and heating your skin.
A light caress on your cheek broke you from your revere. Your eyelids peeled open, blurry gaze focusing on an incredibly hazy Logan sitting in front of you. When did you end up on the floor?
“There you are,” he said, breathing a small sigh of relief. You were both sprawled out on the floor of the shower. Logan must have shut off the water at some point as the steady stream wasn’t bouncing off the white tiles. Your tired gaze flitted over Logan’s seated body.
He was still naked. That much was delightfully obvious. Remnants of water from the shower head dripped from his soaked hair and down his face. Hazel eyes inspected your exhausted body from head to toe.
“Hey,” you mumbled, a weak smile gracing your lips. You felt utterly drained. It took everything in you to keep your eyes open and your head up. 
“Hey. You alright?” Logan replied while moving to kneel in front of you. Warm fingers brushed against the sides of your face. You gave him a tired nod. “Yeah, I’m good,” you said. Logan pressed a brief kiss into your hairline. You hummed in response, “Don’t know what I did to warrant all that, though.”
Logan breathed out a chuckle, “Nothing special. Just couldn’t deal with you getting all hot and wet without me.”
You weakly slapped him in the stomach. The attack was met with an amused sigh and another kiss to your forehead. A whisper of “asshole” left your reluctantly smiling lips.
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i have been writing this for a solid eight hours now. enjoy
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topazadine · 2 months
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Writing Post Masterlist
All my posts about writing - plus some I absolutely loved by other writers.
Masterlists by Other People (all good)
"Writing Tips Masterpost" by @deception-united - Deception-United has an incredibly wealth of resources available, far more comprehensive and detailed than mine. Go check it out!
"WQA Post Master Lists" by @writingquestionsanswered - Another fantastic and wonderfully comprehensive resource that covers damn near everything you need to know about writing. Genuinely one of the best free resources on writing that you could find on the internet.
General Advice for a Happy Writing Life
"The Myth of the Martyr Artist" - An incredibly important post, perhaps my most important one ever, that discusses why mental illness is a burden, not a benefit. I have no idea why this even needs to be said, but it does, apparently.
"Advice to Beginner Writers: The Good, the Bad, and the Unpleasant" - How long it takes to become a good writer, what to focus on when learning, and why fanfic is such a useful tool.
"Mindset Shifts: Fanfiction -> Original Fiction" - What fanfic writers should know about deciding to take on original characters and stories.
"Defeating Protracted Writer's Block" - What to do when you find it impossible to write for days, weeks, or months at a time.
"Five Common Anxieties of Newbie Writers, Demystified" - Explorations of five mindsets that can set younger writers back as they learn their craft, including overcompetitiveness, overdescribing, and fearing they're "too old."
"Good Motivations for Continuing to Write" - Why it is crucial to have a passion for writing beyond fame and fortune.
"Extremely controversial writing opinions that will make you mad (but I'm going to say them anyway)" - Things you really don't want to hear, but need to be said. A bit of tough love, including the insignificance of ideas, the cold hard truth about how non-writers react to your writing, and the essentiality of having a well-rounded life.
"Why Mindfulness Is a Key Practice for Writers" - On the need to slow down and let our brain rest - plus some options that are categorically not sitting there in dead silence (boring).
"Writing When Happy" - Wherein I hijack someone's question to discuss the Myth of the Martyr Artist, why we might self-limit because of it, and how to do the impossible: write when we're happy.
"The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity" by @bookishdiplodocus - Excellent advice on how enjoying the process and reminding yourself that writing is supposed to be fun can help you stay motivated and productive, even when your brain is not cooperating.
"The Glorification of Self-Deprecation in Art/Writing Spaces" by @nicolkoutoulakiauthor - I've discussed before how crucial it is to have a healthy self-esteem when writing, but Nicol does it even better here. Nicol also includes some excellent reframing tactics so you can stay motivated.
Generalish Writing Advice (multifactorial)
"'How Do I Start Writing?'" (Or; A Psychoanalysis of Newbie Writer Fears) - Inspired by the dozens of Reddit posts that ask this exact same thing, often with useless responses. So why do people ask this? I offer my theory.
"I Can Think of Ideas But Can't Write Them!" - A consideration of the many reasons you might find it difficult to get started on your precious idea-baby.
"How to improve your writing style : a 5-steps guide" by @writer-logbook - Especially great information on why reading widely is so helpful for your craft!
"Some Writing Advice" by @whispers-whump - Especially great discussion of why you shouldn't write what you mean.
"Practical Writing Advice Part 2" by @so-many-ocs - Does what it says on the tin. Simple, easy-to-follow advice that can break you out of writer's block.
"25 Prose Tips for Writers" by @thewriteadviceforwriters - I absolutely love the emphasis on sound and harmony here. As someone whose entire book series revolves around the magic of poetry, of course I think this is incredibly important advice!
"Pacing and Show Don't Tell" by @mylordshesacactus - Two for one deal! First, learn more about why pacing is important; then, look at some examples of the classic advice "show, don't tell." The post does a great job on breaking down what show don't tell actually means and what is not a violation of this guideline so that newer writers aren't confused.
Writing tools
"How to Build a Sustainable Writing Habit Through SCIENCE (Fuck Off, NaNoWriMo)" - Why NaNoWriMo doesn't actually motivate young writers and how to do better through a spreadsheet (yes, really, a spreadsheet). It also explains the importance of intrinsic motivation!
"'I've Outlined Too Much and Now I Can't Write!' (Or: the Double Outline Method for Overanxious Plotters)" - Some of us tend to go absolutely ham on our outlines, to the point where they're practically their own books. But then we also tend to not actually do the writing attached to said outline. Does this mean outlining is useless? Of course not. My method lets you have your outline and eat it too. (.... Wait.)
"'How Do I Make Myself Start Writing?' (Tips to Get the Damn Thing Done) - In this post, I provide a step-by-step guide to start writing, including a few tools to help improve motivation and concentration.
"How to Write Faster (And, Hopefully, Better Too)" - Eliminating distractions and forcing your brain to write is key to getting more done. Here, I explain how you might be limiting yourself by too much thinking and not enough doing.
Worldbuilding
"Stop Making Everything So Damn Complicated!" - Why fantasy (and scifi) does not need to be dizzyingly intricate to be enjoyable.
"Grounded vs. Airy Fantasy" by @aethersea - Excellent breakdown of different levels of groundedness in fantasy and why it's important to understand your own approach.
"Fantasy Guide to Building a Culture" by @inky-duchess - Thorough and methodical analysis of what can create a compelling fantasy culture, including those things that many fail to think about when writing.
"Writing tip - Research" by @pygmi-cygni - Fantastic assessment of the importance of research, including for fantasy stories. As Pygmi-Cygni said, a lot of people claim that they don't need to do any research for fantasy novels, which isn't true! Any parallels to IRL need to be realistic, or you will lose credibility.
Plotting
"How to Use Chomolungma for Writing Adventure Stories; Or, the Plot Mountain Method" - If you're sick of saving felines who should really figure their own shit out, it's time to head to Plot Mountain. In this post, I offer you an alternative to the formulaic "Save the Cat" and "Hero's Journey" which also incorporates tension, characterization, and forward momentum.
"How to Find a Plot When All You Have is Characters and Setting" by @rheas-chaos-motivation - This is a common problem for many writers, when you have cool characters or an intriguing setting. This short post can help you kickstart your ideas for how to create an intriguing plot that has built-in tension.
Description
"Remembering Perspective When Writing Descriptions" - Key factors to think about when describing other characters or settings from your POV.
"Description, Momentum, and Tension; Or, How Not to Bore a Reader" - Why, when, and where to put description so that people don't skip over it. Hopefully.
"Writing Notes: Seasons" - Each season has both benefits and downsides. In this post, we look at the negatives and positive aspects of each so you can decide how a particular season may strengthen your themes - plus some descriptions to help inspire you.
"How to Write Smut?" by @unfriendlywriter - Wonderful examples of how to write heartstopping smut.
"How to pull off descriptions" by @fictionstudent - Fictionstudent has a ton of great posts, both about film analysis and about the art of writing. I especially liked this one because it discusses how important perspective is for descriptions and the importance of filling in the details as a character would rather than just throwing it all at the reader at one time.
"How to avoid White Room Syndrome" by @writerthreads - Fantastic and focused advice on how to ensure you're offering readers just enough setting to help them envision the world.
Characterization
"Writing Relatable Characters; Or, Using Human Failures to Your Advantage" - Explaining how you can use character flaws and human needs to create a relatable character. Also explains the basic development of a plot, which is about equilibrium.
"How NOT to Write a Character" - Wherein I give you some examples of annoying characters we want to punt off a cliff so you can watch yourself.
"Writing Strong Female Characters" - Why you should give your female characters a secret goal, as well as how to avoid common 'strong female' stereotypes.
"Writing Compelling Trauma in Fiction: Dos and Don'ts" - How to avoid melodrama and create intriguing emotional wounds for characters.
"Quality Assurance Checks for Character Development" - Thought exercises that can help you differentiate characters, prune down unnecessary characters, develop true chemistry between LI and MC, and avoid having too many POVs.
"Developing Character Agency (Or; Cutting the Plot Strings)" - A discussion of character agency and how to ensure your characters are not bound by the narrative.
"Writing Notes: Thought Distortions" by @literaryvein-reblogs - Some psychological concepts you can use in your writing to add depth to characters.
"Questions about your character’s perspective on love and relationships" by @luna-azzurra - Excellent questions that can help you delve into your character's attachment style, what baggage they may bring to a current relationship, and how to create conflict through mentality.
"How to Write a Confession of Love," also by luna-azzurra - Perfect discussion of how to create tension, the utility of setting, not making it perfect, and including the other character's response.
Revisions
"Common Writing Issues that Reduce Readability" - Examples of fixes for four common issues: double describing, long sentences, overexplaining, and head hopping.
"Differential Diagnosis When Your Writing Is Getting Worse" by @ariaste - Fantastic explanation by a professional writer about why you might feel like your writing is getting worse and what to do about it.
"How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3" by @physalian - Physalian's whole blog has some excellent advice, so definitely give it a look!
"How to Improve Your Writing" - Also by literaryvein-reblogs, this offers some excellent exercises to help with sentence-level issues, such as modifiers, parallelism, and details.
Publishing
"How to promote your book online : a discussion about social media (and few tips)" by writer-logbook - Great tips about how to get more interest in your book. I especially enjoyed the emphasis on patience and consistency. Writer-logbook has some excellent info overall about the nitty-gritty of writing, so I definitely recommend poring through their blog in general. (That's why they're included here twice!)
"A masterclass in how not to market your books, in one singular tweet" - Wherein I help you derive lessons from an abysmal tweet by an author.
Specific Research Advice
"Assassination Methods Through the Decades: A Writer’s Handbook" by @hayatheauthor - A thorough review of different assassination methods, including a section discussing common assassination methods by region!
"How to Write Someone in a Wheelchair" - A group effort! This is a reblog chain discussing body language in manual wheelchairs, the mechanics of power wheelchairs, wheelchair propulsion methods, and a reminder that just because someone is in a wheelchair doesn't mean they can't walk short distances.
"Writing Research Notes: Caves" - Oh caves how I love them. Caves. Let me tell you about them if you want to write about caves. Blessed.
"Writing Research Notes: Horses" - A beginner's guide to horse mindsets, whether horses like working, approaching horses, how to ride, and tips on training.
"Writing Research Notes: Bipolar Disorder" - Written by me, a writer with bipolar disorder! This shares basic facts about bipolar, offers a list of symptoms you can use, and cautions you against spreading misinformation through poor characterization or myths.
"Writing Research Notes: Politics" - I provide a quick overview about governments and international relations, based off my suffering while getting an MA in International Relations.
"Stop Doing This in Injury Fics!" by @pygmi-says-hi - Discusses some common errors when writing whump/angst. The fever part was especially helpful for me!
"Writing US Military Characters" by @lookbluesoup - An explanation of the habits and mentality of US military characters. Many of these were quite helpful for my fantasy military characters, so you can get a lot of mileage out of these for soldiers in other militaries too!
Little Funsies
"What Painting Style Is Your Writing?" - A short exploration of different writing styles to help you better understand your own approach.
I'll be adding onto this as I continue to scroll through my old likes and, of course, as I find more resources.
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maspers · 2 months
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Okay but can you IMAGINE if the earrings had gone to Alya like Marinette wanted them to? 
Instead of having a "designated responsible hero", Scarabella and Chat Noir would just be a pair of gremlins high on life because THEY'RE SUPERHEROES OMGOSH they would spend half their time geeking out and basically exuding chaotic sibling energy the entire time. 
They would reveal their identities to each other right off the bat because neither was paying attention when they were told not to, and Tikki just groans. Alya and Adrien quickly bond over being new kids at school who have superpowers, and everyone else is baffled.
Alya decides to try Clark Kenting and run the Scarablog, and Adrien is like "that's an amazing idea I'll help!" and shenanigans ensue. Marinette (who knows Alya is Scarabella since she snuck the earrings to Alya before any of this started) has befriended Alya as in canon but HASN'T told her that she knows her identity, so she gets dragged into the Scarablog staff and ends up doing most of the fieldwork and vlogging, desperately trying to do anything to cover up Scarabella's and Chat's identities (she knows Scarabella's, but doesn't know Chat's) while trying to avoid getting distracted by Adrien, who she's crushing on big time like in canon. 
For his part, Adrien gets totally enamored with Marinette because Ladybug isn't there to distract him and because Scarabella is already more sibling material than lover material, but he thinks Marinette dislikes him and his brand so instead tries to woo her as Chat Noir and more shenanigans happen. 
Nino, however, is low key crushing on Scarabella, and joins the Scarablog staff to try and learn more about her. Alya finds this amusing and kind of adorable, but doesn't really reciprocate for a while because she and Nino don't get locked in the zoo. She does let him investigate on his own, because she thinks pursuing the truth is a noble endeavor and in the meantime the blog can use his skills. Marinette starts silently screaming because GOSH DARNIT the identities are supposed to stay secret! 
Chloe is a huge fan of Scarabella and Chat Noir. She keeps trying to force herself onto the Scarablog team… But Alya is having none of it and throws her out. Chloe engages in spying shenanigans and tries to force Sabrina onto the team in her stead, but that just results in Sabrina getting character development. 
Lila shows up. Nino, desperately trying to learn more about Scarabella, falls for her lies hook line and sinker (sorry Nino, someone has to) but since Alya and Adrien both know each other's identities they see through her lies and (with Marinette) burst her bubble almost immediately. However, since Marinette actually has free time she can do her job as Class Pres and calm Lila down (a la zoe-oneesama's Scarlet Lady AU), and soon Lila shows up on the Scarablog's door offering to investigate Hawkmoth. Her main goal is fame and fortune, but eh Alya knows a good tool when she sees one. Chloe is fuming, and soon Lila gleefully engages in Spy vs Spy shenanigans with her. 
Fu is like "WHOMST IS SCARABELLA" and tells Adrien that Scarabella isn't supposed to be the Ladybug wielder and Adrien briefly angsts about it but is like "who cares have you met her she's literally a great hero and that's what matters" 
Fu is undeterred and keeps trying to give Marinette more miraculouses and she just keeps them in her room and doesn't use them
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diejager · 6 months
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Hi! I'm not sure if you're still doing/taking requests for the monster!141 au anymore so feel free to just ignore this if you aren't! 😊
But if u are can I request a drabble/headcanon about venom!hunter? I'm curious about the dynamic between them (venom & hunter) and how they got along and worked together (i don't really know how to phrase it🥲) when they first met.
Also how did they first met? How does venom get along with 141? I'm not sure if u already wrote about it.
Venom!reader headcanon
Cw: blood, gore, cannibalism?, canon-typical violence, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 898
Your meeting with Venom was an accident, a coincidence culminated from horrible events, you weren’t supposed to separate from your squad and he wasn’t supposed to die in the body of an incompatible vessel. It was a moment of shame and disgrace, making the simplest mistake one could do in your positions, but everything had a reason, no? Because you found Venom and he found you, he was your way back and you were his compatible vessel.
It was… difficult at first, sharing one mind and body with someone else took some time. A lot of time. It was a struggle of push and pull, your calm waters and his violent storm. While you preferred to stray from trouble, Venom loved it, actively seeking it out whenever he had control of your body. There was a lot of fighting, internal struggles and bickering back and forth, but you eventually came to an understanding —common ground. 
If he let you live your life - a dangerous one filled with blood and violence, still a young private in the army without any achievements and with big dreams - have monopoly over your body whenever you were off the field, you’d relinquish your key on his cage whenever he was hungry while you were fighting, letting his loose to run his rampage and fill his stomach with the heads of enemies. 
It was a relationship built on mutual respect, you for his determination and him for you strength. You understood one another, so your occasional disagreement grew rarer and rarer. You didn’t fight about feeding him only chocolate because you couldn’t stomach the sight of bitten heads. You didn’t fight about wanting excitement when times were too quiet. You didn’t fight when you wanted a few moments of silence in your mind. And you didn’t fight whenever you felt him poke his head out of your sleeve.
This symbiotic relationship only meant that you;d grow closer to each other, he got to know you on a fundamental level and you got to discover more and more about his past and dreams —he had a few wild ones, but all attainable. You shared your fears, your secrets and your pains, you laughed when he stammered after your promise to protect him, his blubbering words and growls sent your way when he said that he would be the one to do the protecting. His reasoning being that he was bigger, stronger and more dangerous than you and your little explosive weapons. 
It was from then on that he called you Little One, a slip of his tongue while you laughed and kicked your legs at his flustered face, his head reaching from your shoulder to glare at you. He acted like a love sick puppy afterwards, often calling out to you when he was bored, nudging your arm while you worked, wanting pets and kisses, or would shower you with loud and boisterous affection. Though he always proclaimed it to be him providing for you, it wasn’t affection - no - it was him watching over you like a guardian —or so he mumbled. 
He would step in if he deemed a situation too dangerous for your fragile, fleshy body. He’d warn you, let you know where and who was coming for you, be it a sniper from a mile away or a group of armed soldiers sneaking around you. If you couldn’t deal with it in time, Venom would forcefully push his way out of you, covering you in a protective layer of his body, the mass of muscle and sinewy cords building a protective shell. And fortunately, it’s only happened when you were hidden away, the knowledge of Venom’s existence would bring unwanted attention to both you and him, none of which were good. 
You met Venom before your study and test for the rank of combat medic, getting his support and mind to help you through it all, his photogenic memory, his talented hands and strength. It was only after earning you new rank, did Laswell contact you for the position on the Task Force 141 since your record held no sign of hateful acts towards monsters and hybrids, and your high success score. 
You both vowed to keep Venom a secret from anyone, he was off the record in every sense, unknown and a mystery, a variant that you were adamant to keep a secret. Venom didn’t… hate the men, he might’ve had a small dislike for their attraction and affection towards you, he was a possessive and protective symbiote, but seeing how you were a permanent fixture in the TF, he was forced to tolerate them. He would let you know what he heard and sensed from them, small secrets he caught or fun, little pranks that he wanted to do, and occasionally protect them. Only because you cared for them, he’d hate to see you sad and worried, Venom preferred seeing you smile and laugh. 
And following these events, Venom could openly interact with the hybrids, unafraid since it wasn’t a secret anymore. He was a bit reluctant, but slipped from your collar whenever someone mentioned something he liked: chocolate, human meat, you or violence, grinning maniacally and flashing his big, white teeth. Despite his apprehension, Venom was a menace, to them as much as he was with you, and yet you still loved him so much. 
Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-nooraa @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce
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jirsungs · 6 days
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NO IDEA | 11. lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities?
word count: 2k words (soo... i might've gone over my planned number which was 1k...)
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As soon as Donghyuck got the address of the man that shall not be named’s frat house, he jumped up from his bed. The sudden rustling noise of his panicking startles Renjun and Jaemin, who are scattered around his room. Renjun sat at Donghyuck’s PC desk and was originally trying to peacefully relax and build his Minecraft cottage house while Jaemin was busy munching on chips he stole from their snack stash and playing a game on his phone. 
“Jesus! Dude!”
Donghyuck ignores Renjun’s shriek, already rummaging through his closet (which was not the cleanest, but the messiest) for an acceptable “college frat party” outfit. 
“What’s up with him?” Jaemin mouths to the shorter male, which Renjun shrugs.
Both, now intrigued, remove their focus on their designated activities, and transfer it onto Donghyuck. “What’re you doing?” Renjun asks.
Donghyuck finally answers when he grabs out a gray hoodie, taking a quick whiff before putting it on. “Jeno texted about Hyunjin and Belle making out in a corner and—”
“Lemme guess, fake boyfriend responsibilities?” Renjun interrupts. 
To this, Donghyuck frowns, and Jaemin only snickers at the reaction. “Hyuck, we’re messing with you. Go get your girl, man.” 
The former smiles. “Thanks, guys. I’ll be back in a bit.” 
Donghyuck’s pacing down the hallway to the door when one of the guys yells out, “And uh, if she pukes in Dongsookie, you’re cleaning it up!”
“Jun, what did I say about naming my car?!”
"Busy, can’t hear you!”
Rolling his eyes at Renjun’s obvious lie which was followed by Jaemin’s cackle, Donghyuck stands in front of the shoe rack. He’s about to put his foot into his shoe but stills himself for a moment. 
Is this the right move? What if she doesn’t want me there?
Before he can dwell too much on overthinking, his ringtone's annoying sound makes him jump in his spot. Is it a coincidence that you just happened to call him at this exact moment of his overthinking? He’s not sure, but the thought of it spreads a small smile when he sees your contact pop up.
“Hello?” He covers up his rapid breathing as if he wasn’t rushing to the door a few minutes prior.
“Donghyuckkk…”
The bumping background noise of the party music and your slurring words is all he can hear in his ear when he answers the phone, and Donghyuck doesn’t notice himself fanboying over how cute you are. He’s about to reply when you continue.
“Can yoooou… Pick… me up?”
“Y/N, how much did you drink, exactly?” The smile he’s wearing screams boyish; his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he anticipates your next reply.
“Pleaase…” With his question going unanswered, he decides not to push it.
“Alright, alright, wait for me. I’m on my way. Stay with your friends until I'm there, okay?”
The last thing he hears before you hang up is your little “Mhmm” before he hurriedly puts his shoes on, grabs his car keys, and exits out the door. 
“Sheesh, she’s cute.” 
Donghyuck finds himself fortunate that no one hears him giggling down the apartment hallway.
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When Donghyuck drives up to the frat house, he observes the sight with a scowl on his face. It's your typical college party.
How do people enjoy this? How does Jeno enjoy this? He thinks.
Little did anyone know, he sometimes thinks he could enjoy it. But a drunk Y/N walking around in the party seemed like a more important issue to think about at the moment.
After playing out the multiple possible scenarios of what could happen when he walks into the party, he gains the courage to turn off the ignition. He exhales a deep breath before finally exiting his car. 
As soon as he opens the door, he knows he doesn’t fit in. The blasting music makes him cover his ears, and the sweaty bodies pushing into him have him holding his breath. Most importantly, he doesn’t love how people can tell he isn’t familiar with this type of environment because some partygoers side-eye him as he walks past, and even people he recognizes from class whisper to their friends. 
Luckily, he’s welcomed by Jeno once he walks a few steps into the frat. 
“Aye, Hyuck! You’re here!” Jeno’s pat on the back somehow made him ease up a bit.
“Hey, Jeno. Where’s—”
Wasting no time, Jeno, who already knows the end of his friend’s question, nods over to the living room, where Donghyuck catches a glimpse of you drunkenly dancing between two guys. He hates that he can’t detect their faces or how one of the guys is slowly dancing a little bit too close to you or the small fume of jealousy building in his chest, but that’s not important.
Still oblivious to Donghyuck shooting laser beams into the guys’ heads for being so close to you, Jeno continues, “Dude, at least try to look like you fit in. You look awkward as fuck.”
But all Jeno gets is a hit to his side, and he winces. “Alright. That was deserved.”
Noticing that Donghyuck’s mind is distracted, Jeno acknowledges the bitterness and chuckles at his friend. So, saying no more, he nudges Donghyuck further into the crowd.
“Stop stalling and make a move!”
Donghyuck looks like a lost puppy as he politely passes through the crowd. Or at least he tried to; most people couldn’t hear him over the god-awful music that was playing. Seriously though, who’s on Aux? But he listened to Jeno’s advice and continued to push through, not because he wanted to—well, he kind of did—but because he knew Jeno wouldn’t let him leave the house without you in his arms. 
He regrets making him his wingman. He’s kidding. Sorta.
He makes his way into the living room when he finally sees you. He’s glad to see that one of the guys he saw earlier isn’t dancing near you anymore, but the one he noticed getting closer to you was still in his spot. It was obvious the guy was trying to have you grind on him or something. He was clearly failing.
He’s also glad that he’s unfamiliar with the guy because a real problem could’ve started. But then again, it wasn’t like he had the balls to start a fight over this anyway. Still, it tempted him.
Donghyuck walks over to you and wraps his hand around your wrist, and you finally take notice of him. “Baby, you’re heree…” 
His ears perk up at the nickname, and so does the unknown guy who Donghyuck watches scoot farther and farther away. He squints, wondering how someone could be so pathetic to be trying to get something with a drunk girl, but he’s thankful he isn’t an asshole who doesn’t care about her having a (fake) boyfriend.
You leaning on his chest takes him back to the current situation, and one of his hands somehow lands on your back while the other rests on the side of your waist. To anyone else, he would look so physically stiff being this touchy with you, but you? You were too drunk out of your mind to notice a single thing.
“Uh… Um. Y/N, we,” He awkwardly clears his throat before he leans down to reach your ear. “We should go, angel?” His head tilts confusingly at how foreign that pet name sounded on his tongue.
Shit. Why do I sound so unsure right now?
He immediately covers it up: “I mean, yes, angel. That's the right one. But uh, we need to go.” 
He’s about to walk you out of the crowd, but you pull him back in. “Nooo, dance with me?”
You give him the prettiest puppy eyes you can muster, and in that small moment, Donghyuck realizes that he's just a man. A stupid whipped man.
But no, you're drunk. He can't get weak in the knees now.
“Y/N, you're drunk. You're literally tipping over right now.” 
“Am not.” Geez, the pout on your face just makes him want to kiss—
“Y/N, there you are!”
The new voice makes Donghyuck jump, his hands resting on your back and waist falter slightly. He was ready to run if the culprit was revealed to be Hyunjin, but to his luck, it wasn't.
Instead, it was,
“Yo, Chenle, what the hell! You can't just leave that girl hanging—”
Mark and Chenle. Great. This wasn't the first impression I had in mind.
Both boys, confused as ever, glance between you and Donghyuck. Chenle takes account of the placement of your fake boyfriend's hands on your body and smirks. 
Mark, being the saint he is, breaks the ice first. “You're Donghyuck, I assume?”
The said guy is about to answer when he glimpses down at you, and that's when he finds you completely knocked out on his chest. 
When he does, he sends an apologetic look to both of them, “Yeah, that's me. But um, I don't wanna seem rude, I know this is our first time meeting, but can you—can you guys help me get her to my car? Jeno called me about earlier, saying I should drive her home.”
Mark and Chenle exchange a look, almost as if they were mentally saying “he's a good one” to one another. Seeing that he quickly got their yeses brought some type of happiness and relief to his chest. He couldn't pinpoint it.
“Yeah, we can help.”
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The moment Donghyuck succeeded in getting you inside your apartment was like a sigh of relief. He thanks Seulgi for being such an angel and lending him her spare key because he was well aware Yuqi was not going to. 
Was it difficult walking you out of Hyunjin's party? Yes. But watching you cutely stumble around the elevator on the way up and mumble gibberish made it all worth it.
He slips Seulgi's spare key onto the key hanger, his eyes not leaving your body as you walk around the living room unsteady. He smiles to himself when he watches you plop on the couch.
He's convinced you were knocked out again because of the decrease in mumbly sentences. So he's taken aback when he walks over to the couch to double-check to meet you with your eyes closed, but you cling onto his arm before he can leave. 
“Mm… Don't leave yet... I wan’ you heree…” You whine.
“Y/N, you’re drunk. Come on, let's get you to bed.”
“Ooh, the bed? Are we hitting third base already?” You tease, your eyebrows wiggling.
Even intoxicated and half asleep, she's still the same. An adorable pain in the ass. 
“Quit it, Y/N.” Despite his unimpressed tone, Donghyuck's cheeks still turn pink at your unexpected words, but he maintains his composure because he knows it's the intoxication talking. 
When he reaches under you to bridal carry you, he ignores the whiny protests that leave your mouth and is successful in holding you to your bedroom. He mentally reminds himself to thank you later on for Facetiming him so much when you needed extra help on certain math problems or just simply to enjoy each other’s company. If it hadn't been for the multiple late-night calls, he wouldn't have been able to differentiate your room from Seulgi's and Yuqi's.
After settling you into bed, Donghyuck thought that was the end of it. But it turns out you had other plans because now your arms circle his neck, trapping him close to you. He has no time to react when your lips meet the side of his neck.
“Hey, what—what’re you doing?” His words stuttered and nervous. He swears he didn’t mean them to.
He can't tell if you're drunk anymore. He hopes you are.
You wait for him to pull away, and when he doesn't, you smile against his neck, leaving drunk, uncoordinated kisses on it. “Just thought… I could make you look prettier.
Did she just call me pretty? Wait—geez, fucking focus, Donghyuck. She's drunk for God's sake. I think… Still, no!
Even though this moment is something he's dreamt about ever since freshman year, this can't happen now. You're drunk and vulnerable, and he'd rather have you in a state where you're only thinking of him, not your lousy excuse of an ex-boyfriend and his new floozy. 
He finally backs away from you. “Y/N, you're not thinking straight, alright? I–I gotta go.”
He doesn’t even wait for your reaction, immediately bolting out of your bedroom. He wastes no time in hurrying out of your apartment and letting whatever interaction between you two stay there. Plus, you'll forget all about this in the morning. For you, this never happened.
But for Donghyuck? Well, let's just say he didn't have the most comfortable ride home.
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note: FIRST WRITTEN CHAP FOR NO IDEAAA, EVERYBODY CHEER!!! 👏 to those who read drum me, stupid, you're probably used to my written chapters that are planned to be short but end up being long... that'll never change, i fear 😔☝️ anyway! writing this made me smile bc ynhyuck are cute and hyuck's just an awkward boy:((( but i must sleep. it is 1am. I HOPE THIS MADE YALL GIGGLE AS WELL !
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smileysuh · 1 year
Text
Sunday Sinner
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🌙 staring. Mark & Donghyuck x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in Church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”
tw/cw. threesomes, inexperienced!Mark, fingering, blow jobs, deep throating, pussy eating, spit roasting, voyeurism, lots of masturbation (especially in the shower), Hyuck has a dirty mouth, sin sin sin, unprotected sex, creampies, cum play, kink for being 'full', religious contention, Mark gets hard during Sunday Service, Mark getting outed as low key virgin, proposition, Mark uses a cross necklace in sinful ways, praise, slight degradation, inklings of corruption kink, squirting, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel. (Mark's) church boy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 12.6k
🍭 aus.frat/uni au, soccer player au, church/inexperienced!Mark, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I've wanted to do a fic about Mark being Christain for a while, but I wanted to make one that was still respectful. This idea popped into my head, and I think it turned out really well :) it's only slight blasphemy.
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There’s nothing like a frat party after a big win for the university soccer team. Even though Mark doesn’t really drink, and he’s never smoked a joint in his entire life, it’s nice to be surrounded by happy energy. 
His team always laughs at him when he notes how celebrations can feel almost church-like, but the indescribable buzz that fills the entire frat is familiar to the man who’s been going to Sunday Services his entire life. 
Mark likes seeing familiar faces, and if he hadn’t been raised in a very big family type of system, he’s not so sure he’d be this okay with crowds, or the number of people who reach out to pat him on the shoulder and shake his hand in congratulations for scoring the winning goal.
It had been a great game, and when Mark’s ball had sunk into the top left corner of the net, he’d run to the side lines to fall to his knees and make the sign of the cross, grabbing at the religious pendant around his neck to kiss it. People have always made fun of him for this tradition of his, but nothing will ever stop him from thanking God - his God - for the fortune life has brought him.
Even now, the necklace is securely around his throat, the cross resting just below his shirt. The cool metal brushes by his skin when he moves through the frat house, a constant reminder of his faith. 
Something is drawing him outside, and Mark has always been someone who leans into the feelings he can’t put his finger on. It’s something like divine guidance, and Mark exits the frat to step onto the back patio, where his friends are in a circle around a fire. 
It smells like weed, something Mark hadn’t liked at first, but it’s now a scent he’s used to, and he heads over to stand next to his roommate. 
Lee Donghyuck and Mark have been friends since high school, where a few ‘less woke’ teachers had assumed - because of their shared last name - that two were cousins, or something of the sort. They’d always been put in group projects together. At first, Hyuck had been too much for Mark to handle, but over the years, he’s come to like the chaotic energy of his closest friend, despite all their differences, mainly, their disagreements on religion.
“Look what the cat dragged in!” Hyuck bellows, throwing his arm around Mark to pull him tight to his hoodie covered side, which reeks of marijuana. 
“Church boy Mark!” Yuta grins from across the circle, raising his beer in a mock toast to the man who had won them their soccer game. 
“Can he even be here?” a bitchy foreign exchange student from Thailand asks, earning a shove from Mark’s frat ‘big’ Johnny.
“Of course he can be here,” the man from Chicago laughs.
“I just mean-” Ten is quick to correct himself, “we’re playing Never Have I Ever. Are we sure this is suitable for him?”
“Mark plays games,” Hyuck insists, but Mark’s not so sure about this one. 
“He doesn’t even have a drink,” Ten notes, looking Mark up and down.
“Someone get him something,” Hyuck says, snapping his fingers at one of their pledges. “One of the iced tea mixes, the low percent ones-”
“Hyuck-” Mark sighs.
“Trust me,” Hyuck assures him, “you hardly do anything with your life, it’s not like you’ll have to drink that much.”
Mark still doesn’t feel too enthused about joining the game, but he supposes his heart led him out here for one reason or another, so he accepts the hard iced tea can Jisung hands him. His eyes immediately scan it for the alcohol content, and he sighs. “This is the same as beer.”
“Come on, church boy,” Hyuck groans. “You’ll only have like three sips, max. Watch-” without waiting for Mark to agree, Hyuck is addressing the circle again. “Never have I ever sucked cock.” 
The girls in the vicinity all make sounds of annoyance, raising their drinks to their lips. In the periphery, Yuta also sips his beer, and after a moment and a groan, so does Ten. 
“See!?” Hyuck squeezes Mark’s shoulder. “You’re already zero for one.”
“That was a low blow, Hyuck,” your voice draws Mark’s attention. You’re standing on the other side of his best friend, which shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, seeing as you’re Hyuck’s fuck buddy. 
Mark takes a moment to assess you while Hyuck rolls his eyes and defends himself. The church goer has always thought you were pretty, and you’re smart too, much too smart for the crazy gemini he has as a roommate. 
“Two can play that game,” you warn, raising your voice to announce, “Never have I ever eaten pussy.”
Mark’s skin prickles, panic washing over him as every man around the fire - and even a few girls - drink. The church boy can feel his grip on his can shaking slightly, and for a brief moment he considers having a swig of the hard iced tea just to protect himself, but, well… it would be a lie. And if there’s one thing Mark Lee doesn’t do, it’s lie. 
Mark can feel eyes on him as he downcasts his gaze to the ground. His skin is heating with embarrassment, and he just prays to God no one makes a big deal out of this-
“You’ve never eaten pussy?” Jeno yells, and Mark just knows the question is directed at him. 
He looks up, lips parting at the shock of being put on the spot. 
“Wait, you guys haven’t heard the church camp story?” Hyuck asks, and now Mark’s really panicking. But it’s too late to stop his loose lipped roomie, who is already diving into Mark’s past for the whole circle to hear. “This one time, he fucked a girl at church camp, and a Jesus picture fell off the wall, so he hasn’t even touched a girl since then.” 
A few people laugh, and while Mark can understand that - objectively - they’re not laughing at him, but at the story, he can’t help but get defensive.
“It fell off the wall, Hyuck,” Mark insists, voice shaking. “How else do you explain that?”
“I’ve always thought you were just banging that girl too hard,” Hyuck suggests, earning a few sounds of agreement from other frat boys. 
But Hyuck wasn’t there when it had happened, and Mark knows for a fact there was no true bed rocking going on. He’d been taking things slow, and the only possible explanation for the picture falling - in his mind at least - is that he’d disappointed God. 
He’d done a hundred Hail Mary’s as repentance, and now that his secret has been put out where everyone can hear, he thinks maybe he should do fifty more for good measure.
“I’ve gotta go,” Mark mumbles, handing Hyuck his drink.
Mark’s roommate tries to stop him from scurrying away, but the damage has been done, and the man who scored the winning goal at the soccer game rushes back into the frat house with red ears that betray his shame.
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“You can’t still be mad at me,” Hyuck whines, chasing after you as you exit the frat bathroom.
“Why do you assume I’m mad at you?”
“Because I followed you to the toilet and you didn’t wanna smash?” Your fuck buddy manages to pin you to the wall, hands on either side of your head while he looks at you with serious eyes, a contrast to the sentence that’s just come out of his mouth.
“Sometimes a girl’s just gotta pee, Hyuck,” you laugh.
“Don’t play games, angel,” he insists. “You’re mad about the Mark thing.”
“So you admit I have something to be mad about.”
Hyuck lets out a sigh. “Fine, yes.” He pulls away from you, throwing up a hand in defeat. “I shouldn’t have told everyone his stupid Jesus picture story. There, I said I’m sorry, are you happy now?”
“You said what?”
He groans, and in one motion, he’s pinning you to the wall again, his lips just millimeters away from yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, and his eyes drill into your own, “I’m sorry.”
After a moment, you say softly, “I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”
“You want me to apologize to Mark?!” 
“Among other things.”
Hyuck pulls away, looking you up and down. “You better not be suggesting what I think your horny ass is suggesting.”
“I don’t know,” you smirk. “What do you think I’m thinking?”
“It looks like you’re thinking about going upstairs to offer Mark help with getting over his Jesus sex fear.”
“And that would upset you?” You cock your head to the side, assessing your fuck buddy.
“Angel,” he groans, “you’re mine.” 
“Am I though?” you counter. “Am I really?”
When you’d started sleeping with Hyuck, he’d made it clear that he’s not the kind of guy who likes to be tied down to one person. While he can be somewhat possessive, part of your arrangement is that you can both do what you want, and right now, you’re seriously considering fucking the sweet church boy you’ve had a slight infatuation with since year one.
“Fuck the fact that you’re not my girlfriend,” Hyuck says finally. “There are bigger reasons you shouldn’t do this.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Well for one,” your fuck buddy leans in, his lips ghosting by your ear as he whispers, “Mark has a massive crush on you.”
For some reason, you find yourself laughing. Leave it to Hyuck to spill two of Mark’s biggest secrets in the span of one hour. 
“If Mark has a crush on me, then I have to do this. You can either join us, or go cry about it.”
Hyuck sighs. “For an angel, you can be a bit of a fucking demon sometimes.”
“And you love it.” 
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You and Hyuck are standing outside his bedroom. The door is locked when you try to open it, and Hyuck watches you let out a deep sigh before knocking. “Mark? You in there?”
“Of course he’s in there,” Hyuck whispers, rolling his eyes.
“Shh! Be nice!” you chastise him, playfully smacking his arm. Your voice is soft when you call out again, knocking gently a few more times. “Mark? Please let me in.”
The music from downstairs is too loud for Hyuck to hear movement in his room, but after a few moments, the door opens and Mark peers out.
“Oh, it’s both of you.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed, Mark,” Hyuck nearly laughs, placing his palm on the wood so he can force it open before his friend tries to shut the door again. “I live here too, you know.”
“How could I forget,” Mark sighs, heading over to flop onto his bed.
You and Hyuck enter the room, and he clicks the lock back into place behind him. He watches you approach his friend, sitting on the foot of the mattress. 
When you reach out, ghosting your hand over Mark’s shin, Hyuck leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t define himself as a jealous type of guy, but watching you be gentle with Mark is definitely bringing up some suppressed emotions, and Hyuck’s not sure what to make of it.
“Mark,” you stroke his leg. “Hyuck has something to say to you.”
“Huh?!” Hyuck’s eyes widen, and he looks between you and his roommate. 
You’re going to make him proposition his friend for you? 
“Yeah, didn’t you tell me you wanted to apologize?” There’s a warning tone in your voice, and when you look over your shoulder at Hyuck, you give him an expression filled with expectation.
“Right,” Hyuck coughs. “I uh… I’m sorry for what happened at the fire.”
He can tell by your small eye roll that you’re not fully satisfied with his apology, but Mark doesn’t seem to mind. The church boy sighs, running a hand over his face. “It’s okay,” he mumbles.
“It’s not okay,” you insist, turning your gaze back to Mark. “I’m also sorry for saying never have I ever eaten pussy. I was trying to attack Hyuck and make him drink, but you got caught in the crossfire.” 
“You didn’t mean to, though,” Mark says. “I shouldn’t have joined the game. This is a lesson for me, I guess.”
“Aw, Mark,” Hyuck can’t see your face, but he knows you’re frowning. “We wanted you to join the game. We like it when you do things with us.” 
It’s interesting for Hyuck to hear you saying the royal ‘we,’ as if you’re a couple, a unit. 
“I’m sure the incident with the Jesus picture was very traumatizing for you,” you continue, sounding as genuine as ever while your hand continues to smooth up and down Mark’s leg. “I can understand why you’d be… apprehensive about doing anything sexual after that.”
Mark groans, covering his face with his hands. Hyuck can’t help but smile when he sees his friend’s ears flaring red with embarrassment, it’s always so easy to get the church boy riled up.
“I just want you to know…” you shift a little where you’re seated, moving closer to Hyuck’s roommate, “this is a safe space. If you ever wanted to… try something like that again, there aren’t any Jesus pictures here to knock down.”
“What?” Mark’s lips part with shock, and he looks between you and Hyuck. “Are you two…”
“Propositioning you?” Hyuck suggests. “Yeah, she is.” 
“I’m not-” Mark swallows thickly. “I don’t want your pity.”
“It’s not pity,” you assure him. 
“She wants to fuck you, Mark,” Hyuck says, trying to be helpful. “It will be good for you.”
“Good for me?” Mark squeaks.
“You’re a frat boy who’s practically a virgin, dude,” Hyuck nearly laughs. “You’ve gotta dip your dick in the sinful water sometime. What’s life without eating a little pussy?”
“Oh my god,” Mark groans, covering his face with his hands. 
“It’s not that bad, Jesus won’t mind, you don’t even have to put your dick in her!” Hyuck can’t believe he’s the one backing this now, but he also can’t really believe his roommate is a near-virgin. 
“This can’t be happening-” Mark is still hiding his face, his ears as scarlet as ever.
“Listen, “ Hyuck sighs, “we usually fuck while you’re at church on Sundays. But if you wanted, we could wait a little and let you join after your service tomorrow.”
Mark’s eyes widen. “After my service? Are you two crazy?” 
“You don’t have to decide right now,” you assure him. “I’m sure this is a lot to take in, especially after the day you had. I don’t think I’ve congratulated you on your goal in the game today yet-”
Hyuck scoffs at how you could be bringing that up right now.
“Just think about it,” you continue, giving Mark’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to go home now, but, tomorrow, if you want to try eating pussy, Hyuck and I will be here.”
Hyuck wonders what would happen if it was just you propositioning Mark. If he’d be more willing to agree. It’s definitely an added level of sin to have Hyuck in the room while Mark rips his virgin bandaid off, but it’s not like Hyuck’s going to leave Mark alone with you.
You’re his angel, even if you’re looking to save Mark.
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Mark can’t pay attention to the sermon. His palms are sweaty, no matter how many times he rubs them against his pants. He feels like - at any moment - a big Jesus statue could just fall over and everyone in the church would turn to him, knowing he was the cause due to his sinful thoughts.
What makes it worse, is the way he can feel blood rushing to his cock. He’s half hard at the Sunday service, and he’s never felt like a worse Christain. 
This experience definitely trumps the losing of his virginity, if that’s even possible, and he hasn’t even done anything with you yet.
But in the dark, back corners of his mind, Mark knows that will change. He knows he won’t be able to resist you, you’re just too tempting. He doesn’t have that kind of control over himself, no matter how much he wishes he did.
When the service is over, Mark stands on shaky legs, grabbing a Bible to hold in front of his crotch while he exits the place of worship to head back to the frat. 
The fresh air does little to calm his nerves. If anything, the closer he gets to his home, the more sinful he feels. He knows each step is one step closer to you, one step closer to religious paraphenia being miraculously moved by the hand of God- 
Yet, he can’t stop. He can’t even alter his course, and when he reaches the frat, he doesn’t say one word to the boys kicking around in the kitchen, he heads straight up to his room. 
When he gets to his door, Mark pauses. His hands are shaky as he reaches for the knob, and for a second, he wonders if he should knock. Taking a deep breath, Mark decides to ignore his manners, pushing into the room.
He’s almost relieved to find you and Hyuck sitting in his bed, fully clothed, watching something on Netflix. 
“Hiya, Mark,” Hyuck waves, as if their relationship isn’t about to be completely altered.
“How was Sunday service?” you ask.
“How was it?” Mark shuts the door behind himself, giving his head a little shake as he hurries over to the closet to discard his jacket. “You know, good.”
“Why are you carrying a Bible?” Hyuck asks, looking him up and down. “Did you steal that from your church?”
Panic shoots through Mark. He had most definitely accidentally stolen it from his church, wihtout giving it a second thought. His mind had been so focused on you and covering his boner- 
“I can give it back,” Mark insists, palms sweating again as he places the book gently on top of his backpack. 
“You look spooked, dude. Did some pastor try to touch you?” 
“Hyuck!” you practically scream, slapping your hand over your fuck buddy’s mouth. “You can’t say things like that!”
Hyuck mumbles something against your hand that sounds like ‘historically accurate,’ and Mark wants to strangle him. 
“You want to know why I look stressed?” Mark sighs. “Because you two are sinners who propositioned me last night!”
Hyuck moves your hand from his mouth, smirking. “Come on, Mark, be sinners with us!”
“This is not helping,” you whisper to your fuck buddy, gently pushing his shoulder before you stand from the bed, approaching Mark with an empathetic expression. “I’m sorry about last night, we shouldn’t have pushed that on you.”
“It’s okay,” Mark shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze.
“It’s not, we’re horrible, dirty, sinful people,” you reach out, linking your pinkie with Mark’s. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. “Forget we ever said anything.”
“I can’t forget,” Mark states, finally looking at you. He licks his lips, thinking of something else to say, but all that comes out is “I can’t forget,” and it’s the truth. 
You open your mouth, and Mark hangs on what your next words will be-
Hyuck interrupts the moment. “So are you gonna eat pussy or what?”
“Hyuck!” you yell, turning to flash a warning glare at the man who’s giggling to himself on his bed. 
Mark doesn’t even want to focus on his friend right now. Instead, he reaches out, taking your other hand gently. He gazes down at your fingers, too scared to look at your face. 
“I think…” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “I think we should do this.”
“Really?” you ask while Hyuck lets out a loud “What?!”
“You’re both right… maybe it will be good for me.” Mark can’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “But- I’m not sure what I’m even ready for.”
“We can go slow,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. “Anything you’re comfortable with.”
Mark looks up at you. “Can I… can I kiss you?”
Hyuck scoffs loudly, but it’s an afterthought in Mark’s mind when you nod, reaching up to cup his face. “You can kiss me,” you tell him softly. 
Mark’s free hand reaches out to grab your waist, and he moves closer. He can feel your breath on his face. He’s never been this up close and personal with you, and you’ve never been prettier. There’s a softness in your expression, an acceptance, and it makes Mark feel confident enough to press his lips to yours.
It’s a gentle kiss - a perfect kiss - and Mark can feel the tension releasing in his shoulders. 
You step even closer, and your breasts press against his chest, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your tongue smooths over his bottom lip and Mark stifles a groan, opening his mouth just enough for his own tongue to meet yours. 
He can count the number of girls he’s kissed during his life on one hand, including you, but none of them have happened like this. Mark had never imagined he’d end up in this situation before, and despite the calming effect you have on him, he still finds himself pulling away and struggling to catch his breath.
“I want to touch you,” he admits, in fact, he’s been thinking about it all day. 
“Yeah?” There’s a sparkle in your eye and you smile at him. “Where?”
Mark can’t bring himself to say it.
You gently take his hand, bringing it to your throat. “Here?” you ask, and Mark traces his thumb over your jugular, surprised to find your heart is racing just as fast as his own. “Or…” you move his hand down, his palm cupping at your breast, “Here?” 
Mark lets out a low groan at the feeling of you. He’s touched even less boobs than he’s kissed girls in his life, and yours are absolutely perfect in his hand. 
“Mark,” you whimper, and he brushes his fingers over your pebbled nipple, peaking through your shirt. He can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, and he shifts uncomfortably. 
“Or maybe…” you move his hand lower, dragging it across your stomach until it reaches your pussy through your sweatpants, “were you thinking of touching me here?” 
He nods, still unable to speak as you guide him to apply more pressure to your core. You feel so warm, and a sinful voice in the back of his mind tells him you’re probably wet too. Or at least, he hopes you’re wet, hopes he has the same effect on you that you have on him.
You let out a soft moan, and it’s like music to his ears. You grind down slightly on his hand, wiggling your hips in a motion that’s hypnotizing. “Do you want to…” you bite at your lip, toying with the waistband of your sweats. “Do you want to put your hand inside?”
“God, yes,” Mark groans, finally finding his voice.
You pull the waistband away from your skin, giving Mark access to slip his hand below it. Then your lips find his again, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he teases his fingers along your panty clad core.
You’re as wet as he’d hoped you would be, and Mark moans at the realization. 
He’s only watched porn a handful of times in his life, and always felt bad about it after, but he knows where the clit is, and he gently circles his fingers around the spot.
You gasp into his mouth, and Mark eats up the sound, applying more pressure.
“Fuck, Mark, just like that-” you tell him, threading your fingers through his hair as you deepen the kiss.
You rut your hips, grinding down on his hand, and it drives Mark wild. He wants to touch you, really touch you, without any fabric in the way, and when he opens his mouth to ask, “Can I-” you’re agreeing without even hearing the end of the sentence.
He takes a breath, and then he moves your panties to the side. 
The first swipe of his fingers through your pussy lips feels like nothing he’s ever felt before, and the wetness he collects against his skin makes his cock throb again.
He teases your opening, earning more gasps from you as your lips move to his neck. When your mouth makes contact on a spot just below his ear, a shiver runs through Mark’s entire body. He’s heard about sweet spots, but no one has ever kissed his, and the feeling has his eyes closing with pleasure.
Without a second though, Mark slides a finger into your pussy, and you mewl in his ear, holding him tighter. “So good,” you whisper as he slowly thrusts the digit in and out of you, building the confidence to add another. 
You're grinding down against him still, and his palm works your clit while his two fingers curl inside of you. The sounds you’re making are increasing in pitch and frequency, and you’re gently pulling on his hair, licking at the spot on his neck that has his body tingling. 
He’s never made a girl cum before, but he can tell by the way you’re reacting, that he’s going to get you there. He wants to get you there, more than he’s wanted any goal he’s ever scored in a soccer game. 
The cool weight of the cross around his neck has Mark wondering if he’s going to go to hell for this. But can he really go to hell for something that feels this good? This right?
“I’m close,” you tell him. “Don’t stop.” 
Mark works his fingers into you even faster, eager to have you coming undone on his hand-
A clinking sound in the periphery makes Mark’s eyes open, and when he looks over at Hyuck’s bed, he sees his friend wiggling out of his pants.
“Dude, what the Hell-” Mark freezes, making an attempt to pull his hand from your pants, but you latch onto his wrist, shaking your head.
“No, Mark, please, I’m so close, please-” There’s a look of desperation in your eye, and it has him swallowing thickly, focusing on you while he picks up his motions again.
“I’ll wait,” Hyuck says in the background, and there’s some comfort in that at least.
“Mark, it feels so good, you’re so good at this-” you praise him, whispering in his ear while you work your hips faster against his hand.
“Oh God-” Mark groans, watching your face contort with pleasure. 
“There’s no God here, dude,” comes Hyuck’s snarky voice.
Mark’s eyes begin to shift to his friend, but you cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “Focus on me,” you tell him. “Like I’m focused on you.” 
He swallows thickly, breathing deeply as he fingers you harder, earning all sorts of sinful moans that drown out anything Hyuck could ever bring to the situation.
“Yes, Mark, yes- I’m gonna-” You’re gasping now, and you can’t even finish your sentence. Your pussy clenches around Mark’s fingers, your lips finding his as you cum. 
He continues his motions, wanting to draw out every second of pleasure that he can-
Mark has heard all sorts of ideas about what Heaven could look like, but he’s never heard that Heaven could be standing in your frat house room, hand down your best friend’s fuck buddy’s pants, with her pussy throbbing around your fingers. 
You begin to shake, reaching down to grab at his forearm, and Mark knows you’re finished. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and he pulls his hand away, marveling at the slick that’s covering his digits.
“Here,” you say gently, grabbing his wrist to guide his fingers to your mouth, licking them clean. Then you reach for him, bringing your mouth close to his own. “Taste me.”
Mark’s never kissed a girl so fast in his life, and he groans at the flavour of your tongue. If this is what your pussy tastes like, Mark had missed out by passing up the opportunity to eat you out, but at the same time, he’s really not sure if he’s ready for that yet.
“Okay, you two,” Hyuck’s voice makes Mark draw back from you. “This is enough teasing, I’ve gotta fuck something now or I’m gonna explode. Mark, are you staying?”
The church boy swallows thickly and then he shakes his head. If he’s not ready to eat you out, he’s definitely not ready to watch his best friend fuck you. “I’ve gotta…” he stumbles for an excuse. “I’m gonna go shower.”
“Right, shower,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “Have fun with that.”
You go in for one last kiss before Hyuck is pulling you away from Mark, and he watches for just a moment while Hyuck presses his own mouth against yours-
Mark tears his eyes away, reaching for a towel in his closet before escaping the room.
The towel covers his boner while he runs down the hallway to the bathroom, and he strips himself naked in record time, stepping into a shower stall.
His hand is around his throbbing cock not two seconds later, and Mark throws his head back, closing his eyes while his brain struggles to process everything that’s just transpired. 
It doesn’t take long for him to work himself to the edge. His toes curl against the vinyl floor, and his vision goes practically black as he cums. 
There’s no time to aim, and Mark feels sticky warm fluid coat his chest, but his hand doesn’t stop. He jacks himself off until he’s a nearly overstimulated, gasping mess, and he thanks God for the water cleaning his body of the sinful filth.
He’s never cum this hard in his entire life.
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You’re at your usual Wednesday lunch with the girls before class when you notice one of your friend’s looking at something over your shoulder. She’s done this a few times now, but when you turn in your seat to assess the room, you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.
“Are you looking at someone?” you question.
“It’s just…” Hyuna leans forward. “Did you do something to Mark?”
“What?” you look behind you again, thoroughly confused.
“Every time you turn, he pulls his baseball cap down,” she explains. “He’s over there, by the window. Green cap.”
When you scan the area again, you do notice a pair of cute red ears sticking out from a baseball cap, the guy’s head downcast as if he’s just staring at his french fries.
“How many times has he looked over here?” you ask, grinning.
“Like, a lot.” Hyuna cocks her head. “You did do something to Mark.”
You stand up, leaning forward. “Actually, he did something to me.” With a wink to your girls, you turn to head off toward Mark’s table.
He looks up once during your approach, and you see him scrambling with his bag. It would be very entertaining to watch him run away from you again, but he doesn’t have the chance, as you arrive before he’s done shoving papers into his binder. 
“Hey, you.” You take the seat across from him. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” His voice is shaky, and you find it adorable. 
“You know…” you reach your foot out under the table, grazing it by his calf. “I can’t get you out of my head either.”
Mark coughs, adjusting the cap on his head. “What?” 
“I said, I can’t get you out of my head either.” You’re enjoying the effect you have on him, and you’re very aware of how public the space is. You don’t think Mark’s going to confirm that he’s been thinking about you, so instead, you ask, “Are you planning to go to church on Sunday?”
“Yeah, of course,” he swallows thickly. 
“Do you think you’ll be able to pay attention while you’re there?” 
“I uh, I-” Mark stutters over his words. “I think so?”
You study the pretty virginal frat boy. As soft as you’ve been with him so far, you feel like teasing him, just to see how he reacts. “Just so you know, if, while you’re at Sunday service, a Jesus picture falls down, it’s because Jesus knows what you did.”
Mark lets out a groan, and you see his neck has turned red now too. “I-” Mark’s gaze dips down to your breasts, which are pushed together in your low neckline shirt as you lean forward. “I have to go-” he grabs his things, fumbling with all of them while he stands abruptly. 
The loud sound of his chair scraping across the ground draws a few eyes, and the pool boy nearly knocks the table over in his haste. You notice the way he immediately holds his binder over his crotch, and you lick your lips while looking up at him.
“See you later,” he mumbles, running away.
You watch him enter the men’s bathroom, and you think you can imagine what he’s going in there to do. Last time he’d run away from you, Hyuck had mentioned he was probably going to jack off in the showers.
The frat bathroom is one thing for a quick wank, but a public restroom is another.
You shake your head, walking back to your girls table, Mark’s tray of fries in your hand. They’re all gawking at you. 
“Damn,” Hyuna whistles. “I know you just said he did things to you, but girl, you definitely did a number on that church boy.” 
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There’s nothing Hyuck loves more in the world than making you cum on his cock. He loves the noises you make, gripping at his bed sheets as your orgasm overtakes you. He loves being the source of your high.
What he doesn’t love however, is the way that today, you immediately ask, “How’s Mark doing?” as Hyuck pulls out of you.
He can’t help but laugh slightly, shaking his head at you. “Been acting weird all week.” 
“Do you think he’s going to join us tomorrow after church? I’m kind of shocked he wasn’t here today, if I’m being honest.”
“Is that why you came over? Wanted to see your precious little Mark?” Hyuck lands a smack to your inner thigh that has you giggling. “And yeah. He’ll probably join tomorrow. Jeno says he’s walked in on Mark jacking off in the shower like, four times this week. It’s actually starting to be a bit of a problem.”
“Is frat boys jacking off in the shower not a common occurrence around here?”
“It is, but not when it’s Mark,” Hyuck laughs. “That guy needs to get fucked.”
“I’m not sure he’s ready for that yet.” 
Hyuck studies you. “What makes you say that?”
“Just a feeling.”
“Well, maybe he just needs to cum properly.”
You sit up, teasing your hands over Hyuck’s thighs. “Tell me, how does a guy ‘cum properly.’”
“Buried inside something nice, and wet, and warm,” Hyuck reaches out to grasp your chin. “Your mouth would work.”
You laugh at the idea, “Maybe if he lets me,” and Hyuck grins, getting off the bed to pull on his pants. 
“I’m gonna head to the kitchen for water, need anything?”
“Just you,” you tease. “Hurry back.”
“You got it, angel,” Hyuck winks at you before heading to the door. He pulls on his shirt as he exits the room, but just when he gets his head through the neck hole, he catches a quick glimpse of one mister Mark Lee rushing into the bathroom at the end of the hall.
Had Mark been listening this whole time? Had he been outside of the door, listening to Hyuck fuck you? 
The thought makes Hyuck laugh again, and his ego triples in size. There’s something very… intriguing about this whole situation with the frat’s ‘designated’ virginal church boy, even if this experience is making Hyuck rethink his ideas of commitment. 
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If the last Sunday service had been torture, today might just be Hell for Mark. 
He’s sweating, shaking even, his knee bobbing up and down anxiously while he sits in the back row. 
He’d returned the Bible he’d stolen last time, but he fears that he might end up taking it again. Every time he thinks about you, thinks about what it felt like to have his hand down your pants while you sucked on his neck- 
No, he can’t think about it. He can’t-
But it’s too late, he feels his cock growing in his pants, and shame washes over him. He runs a hand through his hair, fanning himself and taking deep breaths. 
It’s not ten minutes into the hour long service, and already, he’s at his breaking point. 
Mark battles with himself for another two minutes, and he finally gives up. When everyone stands to sing, he quietly excuses himself from the back row, ducking out of the church without looking back. 
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“Mark?” you sit up hastily from Hyuck’s embrace, blinking at the boy who’s just entered the room. “You’re back from church early!”
“Yeah, I couldn’t sit through it,” Mark mumbles, throwing his jacket in the closet before collapsing on his bed, running a hand through his hair.
“That’s unlike you,” Hyuck sits up next to you. “Are you sick or something?”
“Definitely sick in the head,” Mark groans. 
“Enjoying sex doesn’t make you bad,” you tell him. “Besides, we haven’t even fucked yet.”
Mark sighs. “Yet.”
“So you were thinking about her fucking you while you were in church,” Hyuck grins next to you. “That’s sinful, Mark.”
“I know!” Mark flops onto his stomach, shoving his face against his pillow.
You look at Hyuck, and he makes a face, motioning to his friend. ‘Say something’ he mouths.
‘No, you say something!’ you mouth back.  
Instead, Hyuck simply pushes you out of his bed, and you stumble onto your feet. 
“Mark…” you approach the sulking churchboy. “I know a few things that could cheer you up.” 
Mark groans, but he sits up all the same, looking at you with eyes that tell you he wants you to elaborate.
“I was thinking…” you swallow, choosing your words. “Based on your history, it sounds like maybe you’ve never had someone go down on you before-”
“Fuck, she’s so good with her mouth,” Hyuck quips. 
“I know this whole thing started with you not eating pussy, but, seeing as you made me cum last week with your fingers, I thought I could return the favour somehow.” 
Mark’s lips part, and he allows you to take his hands, pulling him to be standing in front of you. 
“What do you say Mark?” You lean forward, your lips almost touching. “Can I suck you off? Pretty please?”
Instead of answering, he kisses you, cupping the back of your neck. 
Your first kiss with Mark had been slow and gentle, but there’s a new fire in him now, and it’s only a moment before his tongue is gliding past your lower lip, begging for entrance. You release a groan, reaching down to loop your fingers in the waistband of his pants, pulling him tighter to your body.
You can feel that he’s already hard, and you love how easy it is to turn him on. You love the way he’s already becoming more explorative in the way he interacts with you, his hand steady on the back of your neck, insistent that you stay lip locked. 
For a guy who doesn’t kiss girls much, he’s a phenomenal kisser. There’s emotion in it, and he tastes like spearmint. 
You get lost in the feeling of him, but after only a little while, you’re aching to touch him properly. Your hand slips down, cupping him through his pants. The church boy shivers at the contact, and you squeeze him. It’s the first time you’ve really touched his cock, and you bet he’s already aching-
He releases the back of your neck, and you take it as a sign to begin kissing down his body. You start at his throat, licking the sensitive spot that has him grabbing your hips and releasing a moan. He makes such pretty sounds-
You continue rubbing his cock, but when your mouth gets to his collarbone, you grab at his shirt. “Can this come off?”
“Yeah,” Mark mumbles, releasing you so he can unbutton the nice church shirt he’s wearing. 
When he discards the fabric, revealing his body to you, you simply enjoy it for a moment. 
Mark and Hyuck both have such wonderful bodies. Sure, some of your friends make good arguments about the muscled forms of Jaehyun, Johnny and Jeno, but you prefer Mark’s understated physique. 
He’s a soccer player, and his body is perfectly athletic without being too much to handle.
Your kisses begin to descend, and you find yourself pausing at the cross necklace. You lean forward and press your lips to it softly. Mark lets out a shaky breath. 
You know he’s watching you, and this is your way of showing him you still respect his religion, despite persuading him to partake in the more ‘sinful’ side of life.
“Wait,” Mark says, and he lets go of you to reach behind his neck, fumbling with the clasp. You watch him with curiosity as he removes the cross, holding it gently and placing it onto his bedside table.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him without the gold chain around his throat, and you wonder what the removal of it could mean, but you try not to think too hard about it.
You sink to your knees on the floor, undoing his belt and looking up at Mark. If he doesn’t want this, he can stop you, and you give him more than enough time to make that decision. But Mark only watches you, breathing heavily as you undo the button, then the zipper-
“You want this?” you ask, hooking your fingers in his pants and briefs.
He nods. “I want you.”
You smile, tugging the fabrics down so they pool at his feet. 
“You have such a pretty cock,” you whisper, grabbing the base and swiping your thumb across the leaking tip. You notice the way Mark’s chest and neck flush pink, as if he’s embarrassed by your words, but you know that praise is good for Mark. 
You press a kiss to the head of his cock, suckling a little while Mark moans above you. 
It looks like he’s not sure where to place his hands, so you reach for one, placing it on your cheek while you take more of him into your mouth. 
“God-” Mark whispers.
“She feels good, right?” Hyuck asks.
“Yeah,” Mark nods. “Really good.”
Having them both give you praise has your pussy throbbing, and it encourages you to sink further down onto his cock, sucking harder-
“Shit-” Mark nearly whimpers, and you think this might be the first time you’ve heard him swear. 
You know it’s wrong, and bad, and dirty, and sinful- but there’s something about corrupting Mark that has you going insane. You bob up and down on his cock, stroking the base that you can’t reach with your mouth. 
“This is too hot,” Hyuck says. “I’ve gotta join.”
“How-” Mark begins to ask, but a second later, hands are pulling you off of Mark’s cock.
“Both of you, on the bed,” Hyuck instructs. “You’ve heard of spit roasting, right, Mark?”
“I-” the church boy’s skin is flushed again, and when you hop up on the bed, he follows, clamoring after you. 
“Look, you’ll have her mouth,” Hyuck gets on the mattress behind you, and you hear him undoing his belt, “and I’ll have her perfect pussy. It’s a win, win.”
Mark doesn’t argue, his eyes moving down to meet yours as you take his dick back into your mouth, picking up where you’d left off.
Hyuck, meanwhile, tears your pants down, and a moment later his fingers are gliding through your pussy. “Fuck, angel, you’re soaked. Sucking Mark’s cock really turns you on, huh?”
You groan a sound of affirmation around Mark, and his hand is quick to grab your head again, fingers flexing in your hair. 
“You can fuck her face if you want,” Hyuck suggests, working two fingers into you easily. “She loves getter her throat fucked-”
Mark’s hips twitch at the words, but he doesn’t follow through. You think maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you, and it’s an endearing idea.
Hyuck pulls his digits from your core, and they’re replaced with the head of his cock, which he rubs the length of your pussy, teasing your clit before pushing into you.
Your fuck buddy lets out a loud groan, his hands finding your hips as he sinks his length fully into your core. 
“Dude,” Hyuck breathes, “her pussy is literally Heaven-”
His first thrust sends you further onto Mark’s cock, and the man above you gasps when he hits the back of your throat. 
“Is fucking pussy going against God?” Hyuck asks, in an almost rhetoric manner. “Isn’t there some weird church loophole where anal doesn’t count? Her ass is great too, scout’s honor.”
At this point, you’re pretty sure Mark’s not even listening to Hyuck. He’s much too focused on your lips wrapped around him, and the sounds slipping out of him make you think maybe he’s close to the edge.
All things considered - for a guy who’s never been blown - Mark’s lasting remarkably well, but you don’t want him to last. You want him to cum, like he deserves to cum. 
When you suck harder, you feel Mark’s cock twitch, and he lets out a groan. “Shit, I’m gonna-”
“Cum in her mouth,” Hyuck states, pace getting rougher inside of you. “Do it. She’s a good girl. She’ll swallow. Fuck, it’s so hot when she swallows.” 
Mark moans, and he pushes his hips forward, sending his cock into the back of your throat. Your gag reflex is the thing that makes him cum, and an “Oh my God!” leaves his lips as he explodes down your throat.
Hyuck’s right, you are a good girl, and you swallow every drop, working Mark through his orgasm until he’s gasping. He pulls out of your mouth, and Hyuck takes the opportunity to fuck you even harder.
Now that you can moan freely, you fill the room with sounds of your own pleasure. When Mark gets off the bed, you fall onto your face, turning to press your cheek to the mattress while you watch Mark find his pants on the floor. 
His eyes meet yours, and you can see his pupils are blown. It’s so incredibly sexy to have Hyuck fucking you on Mark’s bed while Mark watches, and your pussy throbs around Hyuck’s cock. 
“Fuck, you just got so tight, angel,” Hyuck groans, fingers digging into your waist while his hips buck wildly. “Shit, I’m not going to last like this-”
You reach a shaky hand under your body, finding your clit, and it only makes your pussy clamp down harder on your fuck buddy, who releases another loud moan. 
“You close, angel? Sucking off Mark must have really got you going-” 
“I’m close,” you confirm, grabbing at the bedsheet with your free hand while your fingers continue on your clit. 
“Yeah, you are,” Hyuck growls. “That’s my good girl, my perfect angel. I want you to cum so bad, it’ll tip me over the edge- Fuck! I’m gonna fill you up so good, so fucking good-”
You love it when Hyuck talks dirty like this, and you gasp as you get closer and closer to your high-
“Come on,” Hyuck lands a smack to your ass, and the pained pleasure has you crying out, rubbing your clit harder. “Cum for me,” he commands.
It’s all you need to reach the edge, and you fall over it with a loud moan, forcing your eyes to stay open while you stare at Mark, who watches you with parted lips and a dazed expression.
“That’s it, that’s it-” Hyuck grunts, pace faltering as he cums too, fulfilling his promise of filling you up just the way you like it. He fucks you through your highs, and your hand falls from your clit to the bed, body on the cusp of overstimulation as Hyuck’s motions begin to slow.
As things come to a stop, Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Mark, come over here, you’ve gotta see this.”
“I don’t want to look at your dick,” comes Mark’s quick retort.
“Then don’t look at my dick, look at her pussy with my cum dripping out of it. Trust me, it’s so fucking hot-” Hyuck pulls out of you, and you whine at the loss.
You watch Mark go around the side of the bed, and you can feel both of their eyes on your hole, which is already beginning to drip Hyuck’s cum-
You place a hand under your core, not wanting to get any of this on Mark’s bed, and Hyuck laughs loudly. 
“Aren’t you two worried about pregnancy?” Mark asks.
“That’s what birth control is for,” Hyuck says. “Cumming inside feels like nothing else in the whole world.”
“What about STI’s?”
“Well, I mean…” Hyuck gets off the bed, and you watch him grab a tissue from his desk, “we’re only really fucking each other and we’re both clean so…”
“Wait, you two only sleep with each other?” Mark sounds justifiably confused. “So… why aren’t you two… why aren’t you two dating?”
It’s a very good question, and from the way Hyuck brushes it off with a ‘you know’ and a topic change, it feels as if neither of you really have a good answer. “Anyways, you have to try this sometime,” Hyuck says again. “Next Sunday.” 
Mark sighs. “Can’t we do this on any day but Sunday?”
“Where would be the fun in that, church bitch?”
You let out a groan of annoyance, but you think you’re starting to understand this is just the way their relationship is. 
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Getting through a full week while being on the same campus as you is starting to feel like Mark’s own personal Hell. Every time he so much as catches a glimpse of you running between classes, blood rushes to his cock. 
Hell, even at soccer practice with Hyuck, every time Mark looks at his forward position roommate, all he can think about is the visual of Hyuck fucking you from behind on his own bed. 
By Friday, he’s too pent up to even attend his last class, and he rushes back to the frat to get some shower time.
He’s becoming much too used to jacking off in the shower, but he really can’t help himself. 
Mark feels like an absolute sinner, especially with the cross necklace around his neck. Today, something comes over him, and he takes it off, wrapping the gold chain around his right hand. He looks at it for a moment, and there’s almost something like curiosity-
He wraps his hand around his cock, flinching a little at the cold metal on his heated skin. As he begins to move his fist up and down his aching length, the bite of the necklace feels like repentance, like something he deserves. 
Mark takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he thinks about you. 
He thinks about the sounds you make, the expression on your face as you cum- how your mouth had felt on his throbbing cock- 
He can’t believe how easy it is to get himself to the edge, especially with the added pain of the necklace around his hand. Does this make him even worse? It shouldn’t be this easy to cum- it shouldn’t be, but it is.
When he reaches the edge, it’s not God’s name on Mark’s lips, it’s yours.
He gasps, body tingling as he pumps his way through it, the necklace biting into his skin-
“Jesus Christ Mark! Get a fucking room!” comes Jeno’s voice. “Some of us are just trying to fucking shower!”
The outburst makes shame flood through his body, but it also only adds to the powerful sensation in his cock, his cum shooting across his chest. 
Mark’s decides he’s definitely going to Hell for this.
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Another Saturday win for the soccer team means another frat party, and Hyuck loves the attention you give him on days when he gets a goal. You’re even touchier than usual, praising him for his skills-
Yet, Hyuck finds it hard to focus on you with Mark blatantly staring from across the room. 
Hyuck has enjoyed sharing you with his roommate, more than he ever thought he would, but tonight, he wants you for himself, and when you begin kissing his neck, pushing him against the wall, Hyuck’s had enough of this public bullshit.
“My room, now,” he commands. 
With a giggle, you turn, darting off towards the stairs, and Hyuck follows you with a smile. As he climbs the steps in twos, he gets a feeling he’s being followed, and he stops on the first landing to turn and look at Mark.
“What are you doing?”
“Huh?” Mark blinks. “I’m uh… coming with you?”
“It’s Saturday.”
“So?”
“So,” Hyuck sighs, “you only get access to angels on Sundays, all good Christians should know that.”
“But-” Mark opens his mouth to argue but Hyuck’s not in the mood for it tonight.
“No joining,” he says firmly. But as he looks at Mark’s defeated expression, Hyuck feels something like pity. “I guess you can stand outside the door and listen, you perv.”
Mark’s skin flares with embarrassment, but as Hyuck continues up the stairs, he gets the suspicion that Mark’s going to do exactly what he’d just suggested.
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When you arrive at the frat house on Sunday afternoon, Hyuck is waiting for you in the living room. He pulls you into a kiss, and his lips linger against your own, his fingers digging into your hips. “Are you ready for today, my little demon?”
You laugh. “I’m always ready. But we have to wait till Mark gets back from church.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “We could always start without him.”
“That wouldn’t be very nice,” you note, grinning at your fuck buddy.
“Making me wait isn’t very nice,” Hyuck counters.
“It’s important to learn how to be patient,” you tell him, pressing another peck to his lips. “Come on, I’m sure we can find an episode of something to watch on Netflix.”
When you get to Hyuck’s room, the last thing you expect is to find Mark waiting for you. He’s sitting on his bed, staring at the floor, and his head snaps up as you enter.
“Mark?” You can’t hide your confusion. “Shouldn’t you be at church?”
“I’m not going today,” he states, standing and placing his cross necklace on the bedside table.
“Is something wrong?” you ask, walking over to grab his hands, assessing him for head injury.
“Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”
Hyuck lets out a whistle behind you, and you hear him locking the door. “Damn, Mark, I’m actually kind of impressed.”
“So…” you look into Mark’s eyes, “does this mean you’re ready?”
He nods. “Yeah… I’m ready.”
“Are you sure about that, church boy?” your fuck buddy asks. “Do you want us to put up a cross and see if it falls down as a sign that God thinks you’re a sinner?”
Mark takes a deep breath, and his eyes shift to Hyuck over your shoulder. “Fuck God, and fuck the cross.”
Your lips part in shock, and Mark takes that moment to grab your face and kiss you. It’s the hungriest kiss you’ve had from him so far, and you melt into his embrace, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and pressing your chest to his own. 
His tongue explores yours, as confident as ever, and his hands move down to your hips, needy and rough. When his palm slips down to grab your ass, your moan loudly, all consumed by this new Mark. 
“Shit, dude,” Hyuck whispers from behind you. “Guess I should stop calling you church boy.” 
Mark lets out a groan, and then he’s tossing you onto his bed. A squeal of delight escapes you at the roughness of it all. 
“I wanna taste you,” Mark states, breathing heavily as he looks down at you with dark eyes.
“Then taste me,” you say simply, already grabbing at your pants to push them down.
Mark helps you tug them off, and then his own fingers are hooking in the waistband of your panties, tearing them down your legs with one rough motion.
“Oh my God, Mark-” you gasp, shocked at his sudden change in attitude.
The man who gets on the bed between your legs isn’t the same man who had whimpered while he fingered you two weeks ago. He’s not a soft church boy worried about boundaries, he’s a confident man who knows what he wants. And what he want is you. 
You can’t even take a moment to breathe before Mark’s pressing his tongue against your pussy, hands firmly grabbing at your thighs while he licks a stripe of your most sensitive area.
“Fuck,” you groan, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair.
His response is a moan that sends shivers through your body, his lips suctioning around your clit like he’s a seasoned pro. There’s no hesitation or worry about correctness, there’s only a pussy deprived man who seems to know exactly what to do to have your toes curling as you drag them across his back.
You’ve had good oral sex before, Hyuck’s particularly skilled in this field, but as wild as your fuck buddy is, he’s never been feral like this. 
Mark’s tongue is unpredictable, lapping at you and pushing into your hole, teasing your walls as he rubs his nose against your clit. “Shit, Mark, you’re so good-”
“Better than me?” Hyuck asks.
You hate to admit it, but when a strangled “Yes!” leaves your lips, it only makes Mark go harder on you. 
You have no brain space to focus on Hyuck, your eyes closed as Mark’s tongue pleasures you like no one ever has before. 
It’s like he knows your body already, as if he’s divinely guided- 
The thought has your pussy throbbing, and as if he senses your need, Mark lets go of one of your thighs, adjusting so he can slip a finger into you while his tongue returns to your clit.
“Shit, just like that-” you gasp, legs quivering over his shoulders.
Another digits slips into your wet hole, and more moans leave you as the church boy finger fucks you even better than he did last time. 
You’re consumed by Mark, completely, and it feels like Heaven to get lost in the pleasure he’s providing you. 
You apply a bit of pressure on his head, wanting him to go harder on you, and he rewards you by sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.
“Fuck-” you moan, pushing your hips up toward his face. You’re already so close to cumming that it’s almost insane, and you trust that this time, nothing Hyuck could do in your periphery would prompt Mark to let up on you.
He seems Hellbent on getting you to the edge, and as his fingers crook up to stroke your gspot, you know he’s going to accomplish his task with flying colours. 
“Sounds like she’s close, dude,” Hyuck muses, reading your reactions like the back of his hand.
When you turn your head to open your eyes, you find Hyuck has his cock out, and he’s stroking it, gaze fixed on the man between your legs. 
There’s something so… fulfilling about being watched like this. To know that Hyuck’s just as turned on as you and Mark, even though he’s taking no part in your pleasure. 
Hyuck has a nice cock, and the sight of his fist wrapped tightly around it has even more lust coursing through your body. 
To have both men worshipping you in this way- it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. 
“I’m gonna-” you stutter, licking your lips as the pleasure builds between your legs.
“Cum for me,” Mark groans against your pussy. “Please, angel, I want you to cum.” 
The ‘please’ is the cherry on top, as is the petname that usually only Hyuck ever uses on you, and combined, they throw you over the edge. 
You cry out, rutting your pussy against Mark’s face while he tongue and finger fucks you through your orgasm.
The church boy lets out sinful sounds, and you can tell he’s enjoying being used like this, enjoying making you come undone on his fingers. Your pussy is throbbing around him, and his unrelenting digits continue stroking the spot that has you tinging with overwhelming pleasure.
“Mark!” you nearly scream, overtaken by the kind of ecstasy you’ve never felt before. 
“Fuck, dude,” Hyuck breathes, “you made her squirt-”
You’re almost twitching when Mark finally pulls his tongue from your clit, and his fingers slow before slipping out of you. You open your eyes to watch him lick them clean, and he lets out a deep groan, clearly enjoying the taste of you.
You need him to fuck you, like you’ve never needed anyone - even Hyuck - to fuck you in your entire life. 
“Please,” you whimper. “Mark-”
“Let me get a condom,” he states, sitting up-
“No!” you reach out to grab at him, locking eyes with him as you state, “I want you raw.” 
It’s the first time today that he looks unsure. “I don’t-”
“I’m clean,” you insist, “and so are you-” 
“Bruh, just raw dog it,” Hyuck says. “Trust us-”
With one last look between your thighs, Mark relents, and he gets back on the bed, tugging off his shirt and his pants while you work on getting yourself naked. 
As soon as you’re both bare, Mark is laying his body over yours, pressing you into the bed while his lips move feverishly against your own. You tangle your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his cock trapped between your bodies, rubbing over your clit as he rocks his hips.
“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Inside-” 
Mark pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as he looks into your eyes. His gaze shifts down, and he reaches a hand to grab the base of his length, teasing it against your pussy.
You moan loudly as he toys with your clit, and then he’s testing the head of his cock against your aching hole. The tip slips just inside and you whimper, only for him to pull back, then do it again-
“God, Mark-” You dig your nails into his shoulders, throwing your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes.
He pushes his cock deeper inside of you, and you both let out groans of pleasure. His mouth returns to yours while he slowly sinks into your pussy, until his hips are flush against your own. 
“Fuck,” Mark whimpers, twitching from the new sensation. 
“Told you raw was the way to go,” Hyuck says, as if he’s the most helpful person in the room.
Both you and Mark ignore your fuck buddy, and Mark takes a test thrust that has you both gasping. 
“Just like that,” you encourage him. “Fuck, you’re doing so good-” 
His lips return to yours, and the kiss takes your breath away as he begins to find a slow pace. Each thrust is deep, intentional, and in some odd way, this doesn’t feel like fucking. Fucking is hard, fast, fevered- but this is different. This is more like making love.
Mark sucks on your bottom lip, and he adjusts one of his hands so it can come up to grab at your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple and making you shiver. Your body reacts, pussy throbbing around Mark’s cock, and he groans into your mouth.
“Feels like Heaven,” he whispers, massaging your boob with a loving hand. 
Your skin tingles at his words. You can take the church boy out of church, but you can't take the church out of the church boy. 
His pace is getting faster, and each thrust has the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. It’s insane how this is Mark’s first time- it sounds like he hadn’t gotten far with the last girl he’d had under him before the Jesus picture incident- 
He’s an absolute natural, and each brush of his lips against yours has you feeling closer to him than ever before. His cock fits perfectly in your pussy, and the sounds continuing to escape him tell you that he feels just as good as you do.
“I’m not-” Mark gasps, kisses moving to your throat. “I’m not going to last long-”
“That’s okay,” you assure him, gently rubbing his back. “I’m proud of you.”
He groans, sucking on your neck. Mark’s hand moves down to your hip, anchoring you to the bed while he ruts into you faster. You know you’re close, but it can be hard to cum without clit stimulation, so you sneak your own palm down your abdomen, fingers seeking out your most sensitive spot.
You both groan when you make contact with your clit, and Mark’s breath is hot against your throat. “You close?” he asks.
“Almost,” you nod, rubbing soft circles around your clit while Mark’s cock slides in and out of your pussy. 
“Ya’ll better cum quick or I might bust a nut just watching.” Hyuck’s voice makes you laugh, but the laugh quickly becomes a moan as Mark fucks you harder, fingers digging into your hip.
“I’m so close,” Mark whispers. “Please, this feels too good-” 
“Mark,” you whimper, loving how sweetly he talks to you while buried balls deep in your pussy. 
“Please, angel, I can’t hold on much longer-”
Your skin tingles at the idea that he’s working hard not to cum, that he won’t allow himself to get there until you can reach your high with him. He’s such a soft boy, the most perfectly wonderful man you’ve ever fucked-
“I’m gonna-” you bite at your lip, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of ecstasy that you’re so close to reaching- 
“Cum with me,” Mark begs. “Cum with me, angel, cum-”
The desperation in his voice is what finally sends you over the edge, and you gasp as your core clamps down on him. Mark echoes your sound of pleasure, groaning loudly in your ear as his fingers dig into your hip. 
You can feel him filling you up, and it makes you extra sensitive as you ride out your orgasm, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline. 
To Mark’s credit, he fucks you through it, hips only faltering slightly before the end.
When you’re both done, you pull your hand away from your clit, and Mark all but collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he buries his face against your neck. 
You can hardly have a moment of peace with Mark before Hyuck’s pulling at his shoulder. “My turn,” your fuck buddy insists. “Come on dude, I’ve been waiting forever-”
A laugh bubbles out of you at Hyuck’s antics, and with a loud groan, Mark gets off of you. There’s a dazed look in his eyes as he rolls onto his back in the small twin bed next to you. You wonder if he’s going to just lay there-
Hyuck’s not having it, and he reaches down to scoop you up in his arms, tossing you onto his own mattress. 
“Fuck, angel,” Hyuck looks down at your body. “How do you want it?”
You consider it for a moment, and then roll onto your stomach, lifting your hips as an invitation.
Hyuck groans loudly. “God, you’re perfect.”
He’s straddling your legs not a second later, grabbing your waist to tug you up a little bit more while he glides his cock between your closed thighs, grazing your pussy. 
“Shit, this is going to be so good,” Hyuck mutters to himself, using one hand to wrap around the base of his cock and guide it to your entrance.
He moans as he slips inside. “Fuck- I’ve never banged you using another guy’s cum as lube before, but shit, angel, I could get used to this.”
His words make you feel dirty, sinful even, a little like a whore- but something inside of you actually enjoys it. 
“Hyuck-” you whimper at how good the position feels. With your legs closed and your ass in the air, things feel more snug, and the angle has Hyuck hitting a sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
“I know, angel,” Hyuck assures you. “Feels fucking fantastic.”
His breath is hot against your back as he begins rutting into you, and you grab onto Hyuck’s pillow, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne that has perfumed the material. 
“You look so good like this,” your fuck buddy says, and the slapping of his hips against your ass is making you go crazy. “I’m never going to get used to the way you look with my cock buried in your perfect fucking pussy.”
Your grip on his pillow tightens, the praise going straight to your core, which throbs around him.
“Yeah, I know you love it when I praise you. You just love being made out to be an angel while doing dirty shit an angel would never do.” 
He knows you so well it almost hurts. And when he talks to you like this, it makes you wonder why he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Although, if you had been his girlfriend a few weeks ago, you would have never propositioned Mark, and the idea makes you sad.
You open your eyes, looking over at the church boy you’ve come to enjoy spending time with. 
Mark’s watching you, and as Hyuck fucks you harder, you have to break the eye contact in favour of pressing your face into the pillow. Your sounds are just getting too loud, even for a frat house.
Your pussy feels like magic, to have been fucked by Mark and now Hyuck- you know you’ll be cumming again soon, whether you want to or not.
“I can feel you clenching, angel,” Hyuck laughs, as if reading your mind. “So this is as good for you as it is for me.” 
“So good,” you confirm, which only prompts him to fuck you faster, gliding in and out of your cum lubed hole easier than ever before.
“Watching Mark have you first was torture,” Hyuck tells you. “I was so close to busting multiple times- but I held out, because we both know you’re going to love being filled with us both. Dirty fucking angel.”
You whine at his words, so close to the edge you can almost taste it.
“Don’t be shy,” the man fucking you announces, “cum on this cock. I know you want to.”
Your skin tingles on the cusp of pleasure-
“Be a good little angel and cum for us.” 
There’s something about the word ‘us’ that just does it for you, and you let out a loud gasp as you fall apart. Hyuck echoes your sound, fingers digging into your hips as he reaches his own release. He fucks you even harder, groaning while your pussy clenches around his twitching cock.
“Just like that, just like that-” he pants, encouraging you while he rides you through your highs.
You’re not sure how long you cum, but when Hyuck finally slows to a stop inside of you, you think you might just pass out from all the pleasure you’ve received in such a short time.
Your fuck buddy leans over your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder that moves up to your neck, and you tilt your head to give him better access.
“That’s our angel,” Hyuck muses softly in your ear.
You find yourself smiling. It’s the happiest you’ve been in months. 
Nothing else matters, all there is right now is safety and love and acceptance… and maybe a little bit of filth.
When Hyuck pulls out of your pussy, you feel yourself immediately begin to drip, and you do your due diligence, shifting your hand under your body to collect the fluid so it doesn’t ruin Hyuck’s bed.
Your fuck buddy grabs a few tissues, and then he’s sitting by your thighs, spreading your ass cheeks so he can get a good look at you while he groans at the sight.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, gently wiping your abused hole, cleaning you of his and Mark’s cum. “I don’t think you even know how hot you are.”
He’s probably right about that, but you’re sure that if you keep doing this with him and Mark, they’ll make you learn.
When Hyuck’s done with his very basic aftercare, he flops onto the bed behind you, back to the wall while he cradles you to his chest. His lips return to your shoulder, and the soft kisses make you whimper from sensitivity.
Then- something is falling on you, and you jolt, eyes snapping open-
“Shit,” Hyuck groans, and you realize the soccer poster has slipped off the wall and onto your bodies.
Your gaze immediately goes to Mark, and you see a look of shock in his expression. “Oh my God-”
“It’s not God,” Hyuck assures you both. “It’s probably just Jeno fucking some chick on the other side of the wall.” As if to prove his point, your fuck buddy bangs the wall three times, and a moment later there are three returned bang noises. “See? Totally just Jeno fucking.”
Mark doesn’t look very convinced, and he rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling while he runs his hands through his hair.
“I hope this fucking poster isn’t going to stop you from joining us again next Sunday,” Hyuck says as he pushes the symbol of Jeno’s sex life to the floor.
“Next Sunday?” Mark turns to look at you both.
“Yeah, next Sunday,” Hyuck repeats. “You do want to cum again, don’t you?”
The church boy lets out a deep sigh, but then he’s nodding. “Yeah.”
“Perfect, then it’s settled,” Hyuck grins against your shoulder. 
Your fuck buddy is something of an enigma, and you’re never quite sure if you’ve gotten him figured out. He’d started this whole thing being reluctant to allow Mark to join, but now, it seems as if he relishes the thought of having Sunday dick appointments with his best friend.
Although, as you stare at the pretty church boy in the bed across from yours, you really can’t say that you mind. 
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I just love Markhyuck?
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. “I’m bad?” Hyuck gasps in shock. “Says the people fucking in an accesibility washroom?” He has a point there, and even Mark lets out a chuckle while he presses his lips firmly to your neck, his hips beginning to thrust so he can glide his cock in and out of your wet pussy.“I expect this from her, but from you, church boy?” Hyuck shakes his head while leaning back against the locked door, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still shocked by how sinful you’ve become.”
cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, threesome, hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, mention of fingering and pussy eating, praise, some degradation with affectionate use of ‘whore/slut’, the constant ‘sin’ mentions, slight cumplay/leaving panties on after having 2 men’s cum in you, bathroom sex, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel. (mark’s) church boy. 
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 270
🌙 staring. Haechan & Mark x afab!reader
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bonus
It’s been something like four months since you and Hyuck invited Mark into your unconventional relationship, and so much has changed since then. Having battled for a long time with perceived self-worth, it seemed that the inclusion of a friend within the relationship was all Hyuck had needed to realize his deeper feelings for you, and feel comfortable enough to share them.
Now, Hyuck’s having the best sex of his life with his two best friends in the entire world. Despite Hyuck’s growth, however, it’s clear that the person most changed by your relationship is none other than the OG church boy himself.
Hyuck had thought he’d been horny when he entered university, but it feels as if Mark’s pent-up energy has made him significantly hornier. 
Sitting in class, knowing you and Mark have a spare right now… well, Hyuck can only imagine what the two of you might be up to. As the lecture gets particularly boring, Hyuck pulls out his phone, opening snapchat maps to see if he can pinpoint you and his roommate.
Hyuck’s not shocked to find you were both active on snapchat ten minutes ago, in a building closeby. He’d never been one for maps, but since you and Mark had started fucking, Hyuck had been forced to learn all feasible sexcipade locations on campus. If he’s not mistaken, you and Mark are in one of the single occupancy accessibility bathrooms on the first floor of the arts building, and the thought makes him swallow thickly. 
With one last look at his boring teacher, Hyuck grabs his backpack and he slinks out of the lecture hall.
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general taglist
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blockedbykei · 2 months
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ?
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— synopsis: kageyama always had one agenda in his life: volleyball. it just so happens that you seemed to challenge him even more than the sport has ever done in his life.
— warnings: (this chapter) awkward kageyama, sucks at feelings. frenemies to lovers, a little angst bc kageyama's about to relapse lol pls don't attack me also i don't know how the academic system works in japan
— parts: i, ii, iii, iv
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ii; love thorns all over this rose
kageyama is awake thirty minutes before his alarm rings.
and in those thirty minutes, he spends it like he usually does— planning.
and with a little bit of spice, reminiscing.
"they'll pay you," he said on the phone. he had sensed your relief despite your silence on the other side.
"thank god." you sighed. "okay dude, i gotta be honest with you. i'm only using this opportunity as some kind of job starter, 'kay? i won't be permanent. so don't get your hopes up."
"i won't be too hopeful on you." he deadpanned. a little too honest, to upfront, maybe brought up by buried pain. kageyama shook the thought. "when can you start?"
"anytime you want me to start, tobio-chan." you beamed. he heard ruffling in the background, and the familiar sound of keys jingling. "except today though. i have some paperwork to do. will tomorrow be okay?"
"okay."
that was yesterday, at 4:13pm. it was now 5:30 in the morning.
and it seems like you were awake too.
kageyama jumps at the sound of his phone vibrating against his wooden bedside table. he pushes the covers off his body, pushing himself up to sit against the bed frame before unplugging his phone off his cable.
you. u up? wanna jog around? 5:32am
he doesn't hesitate to reply.
kageyama. Sure. 5:32am
to his fortune, your apartment was near his home. so the idea of jogging around was easily fulfilled as his legs are now being warmed up outside the entrance of your building.
kageyama is a little eager to see you at this time in the morning, a rush of excitement adding a bounce on his heels. and he only waits for five minutes until he sees you exit the elevator in your sports attire.
jacket and leggings. same as his, except he wore sweatpants.
your hair is tied up messily, strands of hair above your head uncombed and bumpy. you walk towards him and give him a smile, stopping just a few friendly feet from him.
he thinks that image of you will stay plastered on his mind.
"ready to go, tobio?"
he looks at you, foot pressed on a bench. his fingers tie his laces as he stares at you.
kageyama was always a man of few words, and you'd learned how to read him through his eyes and body language alone. his stare may seem blank to others, but you read it as "yes, i'm ready."
and he says it either way. "yes"
"so what exactly is it that i'm supposed to do?"
you've matched his pace, or maybe he's slowed down to jog by your side, or maybe he's just slow and you're a bit faster than him. either way, you're happy to be in the same speed, enough so that you can talk to him without having a hard time.
kageyama hums. "uh. you will be like my life coach?"
"what the fuck is a life coach?" you grimace.
"i don't know either." his breath is white past his lips from the cold air, sparing you a quick glance. "i just think i'm too obsessed with volleyball that i kind of... don't have a life outside of it."
"i thought volleyball was your life."
"it is. until i became an adult." he swallows thickly. "when i'm not on the court, i'm in my classes. when i'm not in my classes and the court's not open i... i don't do anything. i think i'm a boring person."
"so you're like a loser?"
kageyama sighs dejectedly. "yeah."
"and you want me to make you more, what, interesting?"
"yeah."
"and i'm getting paid to do this?"
"yeah."
"i'm getting paid to teach you how to get a life," you guffaw, small pants leaving your mouth as you do so. "i never thought i'd be doing that after three years. holy shit, tobio-chan."
kageyama pouts. "do you find joy over the fact that i'm a loser?"
"oh yes," you shake your head, a smile on your face. "i do enjoy that."
you both stop after ten minutes, deciding to take a break by sitting on the bench. you place your feet on the space beside kageyama, bringing it to your chest, facing him. he tilts his head up and swallows the water rapidly as if he'd been parched since the dawn of time.
he wipes his sweat off his forehead, his biceps contracting, hair sticking to his skin. you blush at the sight.
"so what do you want to try doing?" you ask him, tugging on your sleeves.
kageyama shrugs. "how to not be too obsessed with volleyball."
"okay genius," you roll your eyes. "i meant do you want to learn how to ride a bike? how to paint? to swim?"
"i know how to ride a bike," then he pauses, looking down at the tips of your shoes grazing his thigh. he scratches his chin. "i wanna learn how to swim."
you scrunch your nose. "did you even attend the swimming classes back in high school?"
"no."
"god, tobio," you laugh through your nose. "where were you? hiding in the gym?"
"i was with you inside the janitor's closet remember?"
your smile fades a little, pulling your feet closer to yourself. and then you look away from him.
"so i'm teaching you how to swim then." kageyama wishes you'd look at him again, take your eyes off from whatever you're staring at and plant them on him instead. "i might push you into the deep part of the pool, then i remembered you're tall so you could just stand. unless i put a rock on you..."
"do i need to list it down?" he asks, and you look at him. your eyes seemed duller than earlier. he almost winces. "all the things you're going to teach me?"
"hm," you scoot closer. your arms rest on top of your knees, your chin resting on top of your left forearm. "first, you're gonna get a manicure with me. that'll be tomorrow because i want one."
"okay."
"then we're gonna do yoga," you beam. "so you could relax. you're always so tense."
kageyama pulls his phone app, and you assume he's opening the notes app. "okay."
"swimming. then skydiving. camping. joining those bike marathon thingies. oh! pottery. i think you'd like pottery."
"do we really have to do skydiving?" he shivers a little; partly from the cold, partly from the image of falling from the sky with the chance of dying. "i don't think that's a hobby that will help me with volleyball. i think that would just make me want to stay on the court."
you roll your eyes. "whatever. add cooking. unless you already know how to."
"just a little."
"add cooking."
his fingers type on the letters, the click-clacks emitting from his phone mingling with the soft breeze's gentle whisper. "anything else?"
"i kinda wanna keep the others a surprise." you smile, flashing him a bit of your teeth between your lips. the wisps of your hair fall on your cheeks, and your eyes almost smile at him. "done taking a break? i wanna run again."
kageyama stands up, putting his phone on his pocket. you kick your feet off the bench and place them on the ground, stretching your arms.
you start before he does. he feels a thread of nervousness coursing through his veins, tying it around each tendril. there's doubt knocking on his head telling him that at some point of this "life-coaching" of yours would eventually fuck up whatever it is that you have now.
he wouldn't want to fuck up twice.
his feet jogs himself up at your pace, his heart twinging at the smile you give him.
september 2014
senior year meant mandatory swim classes. which meant that kageyama would skip class for the 63rd time since his freshman year.
the table was jovial with excitement, albeit it seems that tsukishima was voicing the similar disdain towards swimming. "getting dressed in front of you guys is enough." he reasoned.
hinata and yamaguchi beam in excitement, mostly because they both knew they would be given free time to play around the pool. and since the boys and girls were separated, you and yachi made a silent vow to stick with one another.
"tobio," you placed your hand on his shoulder. he jumped out of his daze, food in mouth, his head turning to look at you, and you debate on telling him to stop looking at you like that, because while a second ago he seemed horrified, now he looked at you like you'd given him a miracle to be saved. "you alright?"
"yes." his head nodded, putting another broccoli in his occupied mouth. "i don't want to go swimming."
"me neither," you giggled. your hand was still on his shoulder, burning onto his uniform and seeping through his skin. kageyama fought hard not to blush. "i promised yachi though, so. please don't skip."
"okay." okay, i'll still skip.
"kageyama," hinata bumped his shoulder. "let's race to see who swims fastest."
"i don't want to, dumbass," kageyama snarled. "i want to eat lunch. let's see who gets to finish first."
their petulance had always interested you. their relationship would always trick people into thinking they despised one another, but no one ever really saw their true bond and how close they were. you laughed at the way they would swallow their food directly and at the way yachi had begin to voice her concern on choking and something about the heimlich maneuver.
in front of you, yamaguchi and tsukishima's slowly blooming ("platonic" they said, defending) relationship seemed to quietly berate the two.
later that day, you'd lost yachi with your other classmates right after you ascend from the pool. you quickly got yourself dressed, hair dripping wet and leaving streaks of water down the back of your blouse, and searched for her.
you found yourself inside the gym five minutes later, seeing that the doors were unlocked. but when you peeked, the sight of her bright blonde hair was nowhere to be seen.
a muffled cluttering sound startled you.
"hello?"
your voice echoed in the empty gym.
"(y/n)?"
kageyama's nervousness rang at every corner of the gymnasium. you saw him peek his head out from the closet, eyes wide. you furrowed your eyebrows.
"what the fuck are you doing there?" you asked hastily, walking towards him. "you're supposed to be at the pool—"
he yanked you towards him, inside the closet and closing the door behind him. it hadn't registered to you that kageyama began hearing footsteps approaching the gym and it put his heart at an alarming rate. your mouth snapped shut, hiding behind his body, your hair leaving droplets on his uniform.
then there's muffled conversation, a few laughs, a tone that mimicked questioning, and then you heard the doors slam shut. you froze.
"how are we going to get out?" you panicked, voice small and a whisper, even though you're certain that a normal volume would've sufficed.
"calm down," he scowled. "i have the keys with me. how'd you think i got in here in the first place?"
he pulled the keys out and twirled them in his finger. relief defeats the panic that settled on your face, though a smile never rose out of you. but it was enough for kageyama to reassure you. he walked to you, resting his back against one of the shelves beside you, keeping a distance that could've looked like he wasn't giving you any sort of distance at all.
"what are you doing here?" he asked, arms crossed. you took the keys off his hands, clutching it in your fist, and couldn't help yourself but sneer at him.
"you said you'd go to the class."
"i only said okay, doesn't mean i'm agreeing."
you gawped. "that is agreeing!"
"you didn't answer my question." he instilled. "what are you doing here?"
you scratched the back of your neck, fingertips dampened from your slowly drying hair, chlorine and faint conditioner evident through the scent. "i lost yachi. i thought she could be here 'cause the doors were open."
he showed his acknowledgement through a hum, no words leaving him. you sighed and approached the door, twisting the doorknob and peaked through the small slit you created.
"i should probably go," you said, looking back at him. "we should probably go."
you give him a stern look, vexated at his lie. kageyama pushed himself off the shelf, walking towards you, and you thought that maybe he'd decided to follow your orders, but instead his arm reaches out to pull the door close.
the brightness from the outside is only evident through the cracks beneath and between the doors, the only light in the dark room. kageyama stood in front of you, both of you leaning your bodies against the metal door.
your heart beated a little faster, the sound reverberating in your ears. you hope he doesn't hear how fast it gets with the way he slowly leaned closer to you, his head tilted just the slighesg, hair falling just above his eyebrows.
his eyes are dark, but there's a little shine at the edge of his irises, his gaze soft. his lips are parted the slightest, tongue coming out to gloss the dried skin. you swallow thickly.
it felt too oddly intimate to be in a situation like this with a friend you've known since the beginning of junior high. and you wondered if it was inappropriate of you to blush wildly; if it was disrespectful of you to want to tiptoe the edge of your friendship just because you're in a closet with him hiding as if you'd both be shot dead and you're enjoying the last, quiet moments together.
you knew you've never seen him as more than a friend. at least, that was what you've manipulated yourself to think. you convinced your excitement to see him as a way to be excited to start your day. you tell yourself you're concerned for his safety because you worry his sister would eat you up if he'd gotten hurt without you rather than because you wouldn't want him to get hurt in general.
you forced him to take breaks from volleyball because you poke fun at his lack of social life, not because you worry he may drive himself away from you from his over enthusiasm and passion.
you do not feel lovesick over kageyama.
and he thought that the look on your face— surprised, blushing, wide eyed— was the most endearing sight out of all endearing sights. the corner of his lip tugs upward, his teeth beginning to poke out of his awkward smile.
"we don't have classes right after," he reasoned. "we could stay here for a few more minutes."
"you-" you point your finger to his chest, nail digging on his shirt and onto his thick skin. "-have practice. i have a student council meeting and volleyball training at the local court, thanks to your fucking greedy asses, by the way. both of which will start in like-... uh...-"
"seven minutes." he cocked a brow. "let's stay here until then."
so you did.
you sat on the floor and ate the snacks he had on his bag, cross legged, on opposite sides. you started the conversation by asking when the nationals were, and that if it fit right into your schedule, you could bring the student council to up the level of the cheerleading team for karasuno. kageyama beamed at your offer.
your phone lit up, a notification bar on the screen, and he knew what your wallpaper was– it was the six of you, on one of the carnivals last june, on the ferris wheel that showed hinata yelling out the edge, tsukishima gripping on the sides for his dear life, yachi and yamaguchi laughing at the chaos they ensued;
you, holding the phone up, with kageyama beside you, smiling with his eyes set on your laughing figure.
he saw the way your eyes lingered on the screen for a moment before you tapped on the text, screen brightening, your fingers tapping on the keyboard.
"who's that?" he asked, curiosity undecided if he should be jealous (and deny it) or be relieved.
"kuroo-san," you said. "he's inviting you guys to play at nekoma next week. says he and the old team are visiting to check out the new team, and he thought it would be great if you guys fought with them again...? what...?"
"why is he texting you, though?" he shoves a hello panda in his mouth. "shouldn't he text yachi? or literally anyone else."
"i don't think he has her number."
"why does he have your number?"
"because hinata gave it to him."
he swore to murder him after 7 minutes.
"i'll tell them," he said, forced to give you a smile; forced to hide the distaste on his tongue at the thought of kuroo sending you a text. "you gonna come?"
"maybe, i could play, too, bring my team so we could finally play at a court where we wouldn't have to share with kids." you scowl at him. "can you impress me for a hundredth time?"
he'd take that chance at any given moment.
kageyama finds himself on the court again after your jog. the cold air still fresh on his damp skin, the sound of your voice still evident even if you'd already left almost an hour ago to meet up with your team one last time.
"so, how'd it go?"
hinata plays with the ball on the other side of the court, bouncing it between the floor and his palm. kageyama shrugs, placing his towel on top of his gym bag.
"she said we'll start tomorrow," he answers, walking towards the net, fingers poking through the square slots. "i'm nervous about this."
"i think it's a big mistake." hinata blurts out, his hand immediately covering his mouth. his wide eyes do nothing but start the fuse in kageyama's temper.
"what do you mean it's a big mistake?" he ducks between the net, towering over his shaking friend, who walks backwards and shoots him an ever nervous grin.
"i'm just saying– i mean well, we've talked here and then, and she hasn't exactly– dude, you're scaring me–"
kageyama stops in his tracks, sighing heavily with a hand on his forehead. "exactly what, hinata?"
his friend shakes his arms, snapping them. his right hand comes up to his left and rotates it, looking at kageyama like he hadn't scared him beforehand. "she hasn't exactly forgotten about what you did, you know. i mean its nice of you to take the chance and make up for what you did, but if you ever fuck up again, i don't think she'll be as forgiving as last time."
"i won't fuck up." he scowls, going back to his side.
"and if she finds out you only did this to keep her from getting that job with kuroo-san?"
kageyama places his hands on his hips, looking up yo the ceiling. it was high; the lights a bit blinding, the basketball hoop folded upwards to keep out of the way from high serves. his eyes close and counts to three, until he feels his nerves calm down, before looking back at hinata.
"has he mentioned it to her?"
"i don't think he has." hinata says. "i don't think he's forgotten, either."
"okay."
"kageyama," he begins, looking at him warningly. "if she finds out you're only doing this so that you won't lose her– so that she'd be here with you, she's not going to like it."
"i know that."
"then stop whatever it is that you're doing!"
"whatever, man! i'm doing her a favor," he spins the ball in his palm, squishing it with the other. kageyama glares at his orange hair, not at his eyes– because he doesn't want to actually make him feel that he was mad at him. "she said she quit because she didn't want to be associated with volleyball anymore. kuroo's offer is associated with volleyba-"
"an offer is an offer, kageyama, it's her decision to decline it or not," hinata sighs. "don't confuse her. don't make her fall again. don't make things even more complicated than it already is."
kageyama feels the gasoline inside him about to burst, his eyebrows furrowing further, scowl deepening. he throws the ball into the air, and jumps at the right time to serve. hinata, thrown off guard, ducks and covers his head with his hands as the ball hits the wall behind him.
hinata looks back at him with wide eyed anger. "you- you jerk!"
he runs to him, diving beneath the net to tackle his legs. kageyama falls to his back, his yell echoing, wrapping his legs around hinata's neck.
his anger, albeit predictable, is rooted on something he can't identify. he knows he's mad at hinata, but he also knows it's not exactly the actual cause. there's a deep set of guilt planted in him that coalesces with the anger he decides to displace on others. maybe it's because he knows that hinata's right— that the offer kuroo was supposed to propose was yours to accept or decline; it wasn't his position to keep you from doing so.
but at the same time, he knows that if he hadn't done anything— even if he could— to keep you here, with him, while he's slowly easing the pain he'd caused you, he would die with the regret he'd feel. and even so, he would do anything to get you back.
so at the feeling of his head meeting the floor, kageyama is snapped into a dilemma of morals and deluded wants. hinata pins him to the ground, knees on either side of his hips, looking disappointedly down on his heaving friend.
"we haven't fought this hard since freshman year," he laughs tiredly. "she's my friend, kageyama. and you're my friend either. i don't want you both to be hurt to the point where it affects all of us. i was honestly surprised that she was able to act normally after the shit you pulled. she was that afraid to lose you."
hinata pushes himself off him, offering his hand to kageyama. he takes it, pulling him off the ground. "please don't tell her."
kageyama could see him contemplate. he knows how easy hinata is to control under pressure, most especially if it included his guilty conscience in honor of a friend— he can't bring himself to lie. he was never a liar at the expense of someone.
but if it was something he had to do for the people that he cared for...
"okay," he says in his pleading gaze. "i can keep quiet. but i don't know when kuroo will bring this up to her. she'll find out eventually."
"i'll tell her myself."
after spending five hours in relishing the exhilarating thrill of spiking a ball across the court, his free training is cut "short" when his phone begins to ring.
doused in sweat, he walks to the bench where his bag resides. hinata plops down to the ground, elbows on his knees, panting. kageyama picks up his phone and sees your icon—
in a small circle, with a smile, in the karasuno uniform with your hair in a ponytail. he does not remember the day the picture was taken nor what the event was, but he swears he's had the same icon of yours since high school, even after he'd switched the phone.
he clicks the green telephone button.
"hello?"
"are you at the court?" there's a busy crowd behind you. you sound uncomfortable.
"no."
"don't lie."
"yes."
you laugh, he blushes. "okay. can i come there if it's okay? we've got matters to discuss."
he says yes and you're there 20 minutes later. you discard the thick coat off your shoulders, revealing something that looked too comfortable to be considered as casual— literally a large shirt and sweatpants.
"ey, (y/n)!" hinata comes up to give you a one-armed hug, trying not to get you wet with his sweat. you smile at him, sitting down on the bench beside kageyama's bag.
"hey, sho-chan." you beam. "mind if i'm here for a short while?"
"i don't mind if you stayed here until midnight." he laughs, sitting down crossed legged in front of you on the floor. kageyama sits on the same bench, his bag dividing the two of you.
"so what's up?" he wipes his face with a towel. do players actually sweat this much?
"so i got a call from your management," you begin, taking your phone out and opening your notes app. "i took in minutes of the meeting as a habit. anyway, so your pr manager told me that we can't exactly be seen together all the time unless we want people to think that we're dating. yuck."
the emphasis on your yuck makes him laugh out the pain.
"anyway, so she said we can't do whatever it is that you want all the time. we either have to do it with your friends, the two of us on a very private area, or just you alone." you explain. "so i decided to, like, create a list of all the things we should do. and i also need you to sign this contract because i'm not doing this forever."
a soft copied contract he assumes is sent by his management is displayed on your phone as you hand it to him. you zoom in on his name, types in capital letters beneath a line where his digital signature is to be placed. with a shaky finger, he writes his signature.
you stutter. "you- you didn't even read it."
"i don't want to."
"you have to," you roll your eyes. "okay so, your management says that i have to do this life-coaching shit of yours only until your next big match."
"which is in a few months." hinata butts in, a granola bar in hand.
a few months. he has a few months with you.
a few months of making up for the damage he caused. a few months to change the way you act around him. a few months to keep you with him. kageyama doesn't know what happens after then— maybe you'd already found out the offer kuroo ought to give you, and maybe you'd take it with no hesitation, leaving him behind.
the stress of lying catches up with the way his stomach twists and his tongue loses its taste. the hollow feeling of nervousness emits from the way his palms begin to sweat. he feels pressured to plan already— to figure out what to do right after the contract ends; what to say when you found out he interfered with a major opportunity.
"yeah. so. i also can't interfere nor be the cause of your downfall in volleyball or they will sue me." you bite your bottom lip. "is that even possible? like, defamation?"
"what's defamation?" kageyama asks, fingertips fiddling with the cap of his waterbottle. you huff.
"it's by ruining one's reputation by creating false statements. i'd do that if you piss me off," you jest, going back to your phone and scrolling. kageyama thinks of it as a real threat. "anyway, so i will have to ask your teammates or friends to come join us for the following weeks, although i do prefer if you also do it."
he frowns. "why me?"
"because you hired me and it's also your job to be less of a pain in the ass," you poke the space between his eyebrows. he groans, grasping your wrist and pull it down from his face.
hinata's eyes narrow at the sight of two tinted cheeks.
you break free from him. "i'll be sending you the list tomorrow. i'll get going now."
kageyama stops you from slinging your bag over your shoulder, a hand on one of the straps. "how'd you get here?"
you make a confused face. "uh. by bus?"
"let me drive you home."
"i'm fine, tobio," you laugh lightly, standing up, adjusting the strap on your shoulder. "it's only one bus ride. plus, i don't think hinata's done with practicing yet—"
"we're done!" hinata claps his shoulder, squeezing it, tight enough to make him uncomfortable. kageyama glares at him through his peripherals. "it's fine. i'll close up."
it's gotten to the point where hinata had pushed the both of you off outside the court and into the parking lot.
kageyama almost feels desolated— the silence caused by confusion almost deemed you a ghost, thus making him feel like he was lost in a very crowded parking lot. but when you nudge his shoulder, and the look on your face was replaced with a small smile, he takes his keys out of the pocket of his gym bag, his car beeping not too far.
you sit on the passenger side, quickly buckling your seat belt and dropping your bag on your lap. kageyama shuts the door and sticks the key in the ignition, a random song on the radio playing as it lights up blue.
no one says a word during the drive.
you can sense the tension was brought by thoughts that are wanted to be shared but never spoken. something about the past— the past you'd tried to forgotten; the past kageyama was trying to mend. it was not because of the sudden professional relationship created by the both of you.
(it actually also was that.)
the ride was short— maybe five songs had passed and three ad breaks. he parks just at the side, where he wouldn't be told off, and you unbuckled your seatbelt.
"thanks for the ride," you say, finally. he sucks in a breath of relief.
"no problem." and just when you're about to reach out and leave, he puts his hand on your wrist again. you stop on your movements, looking back at him over your shoulder.
"is something the matter?"
"why'd you take it?" kageyama asks, his hand still on your wrist. you blink at him, sitting back down and resting your back on the car seat. but his hand now hovers over your burning skin.
your eyebrows furrow. "what do you mean?"
"why'd you take the job if it sounded stupid?"
you look into his eyes. kageyama looked unsure— almost in disbelief. he seems to be doubting you at this moment which almost brings a scoff out of you. his bottom lip is quickly bitten, a habit of anxiousness.
"i told you– it's a starter job. it's not easy to get a job while i'm still in college. i kinda need the money as soon as possible too, y'know? i'm not exactly a pro athlete so i don't get paid—"
"why are you helping me?" he urges. kageyama leans over the transmission, a hand on the wheel. his elbow is placed on the shoulder of your seat, and he's unbelievably close to you that you feel his hot breath. "you could've taken a job at a cafe. tsukishima could've helped you with it. or yachi-san. so why did you accept my last minute offer?"
it was like he was searching for a reason for your sudden acceptance at an incredulous offer for a job that he made up. he wanted to know the reason behind it— maybe something that could get his hopes up on fixing a relationship that's barely even there; something that could feed on his nightly routine of delusions about you and what could have been.
your eyes flicker between his. kageyama has always had intense eyes. too intense that you can't decipher what he's actually feeling sometimes. but even so, they're the only ones you're forcing yourself to look at— because he's so close. there's barely any friendly proximity between the two of you. you're afraid of glancing down his lips to avoid any miscommunication; you don't look at anywhere else because you don't want to seem shy.
your heart starts to beat faster. you curse it.
"because you're my friend," you murmur. "and i'm actually concerned about your obsession with volleyball."
kageyama leans back just the slightest, but you can still feel his heat.
"i've always wanted to help you lessen your obsession since high school, y'know? at least this time i'm– i'm getting paid."
"you still want to help me even after—"
"i don't want to talk about it, kageyama."
it seems as if you knew what he was going to say. the sudden use of his surname, the softness that immediately hardened at the memory flashing in your mind; the guard you instantly put up. kageyama's heart twinges, leaning back on his seat.
he expects you to leave him and slam the door, watching you walk towards your building.
instead, he feels your hand on his.
your hand on his.
his head snaps to you, twitching slightly. your fingers squeeze the back of his hand a little, offering him a sad smile.
"i care for you," you say. "i hope you don't abuse it again."
kageyama feels like he's been holding his breath for years.
you exit his car and close it properly, crossing the front and enter your building. he watches you disappear behind the doors of your elevator, and he thinks you may have been looking at him as well.
the feeling you leave on his hand remains. he puts it on his chest, placing his other hand on top of it, and feels the way his heart skips multiple beats that he considers rushing to the hospital.
nervous. guilt. an unfamiliar sensation on his belly that rises up to his chest filled with heat.
he does not want to fuck this up.
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reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3
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tastelikezweig · 3 months
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DUVET
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well patrick and tashi had just finished arguing, their voices echoing through the dormitory's thin walls. in a fit of anger, patrick stormed out of her room, a duffle bag clutched tightly in his hand, his clothes hastily thrown in. he was left standing in the hallway in nothing but his boxers.
as he rounded the corner, his pace quickened, desperation evident in his every step. suddenly, he collided with you, sending his clothes scattering across the floor.
"patrick?!" you shrieked, rubbing your forehead. "why are you naked?"
a groan of frustration escaped his lips, accompanied by the mocking giggles of a few girls nearby. embarrassment flushed his cheeks as he pleaded, "can you just unlock your door so i can get dressed?" he was fortunate you lived on the same floor as tashi.
with panicked fingers, you fumbled for your keys. they slipped from your grasp, hitting the floor with a metallic clink. he facepalmed. "fuck, you're kidding me," he whined.
"relax," you sighed, squatting down to retrieve the keys. finally, you managed to unlock the door, and he barged in, quickly pulling on his clothes. he sank into the chair at your desk to put on his shoes as you slipped into your comfy pajamas.
patrick's eyes followed you as you changed into a pair of cheeky shorts, his gaze lingering with surprise and distraction.
"why were you roaming the halls naked, patrick?" you asked, snapping him out of his daze.
"me and tashi got into it, before we were– you know!" he shrugged, a forced frown tugging at his lips. he shook his head as if he was replaying the argument in his mind. "she's such a narcissist," he muttered, slouching.
you climbed onto your bed, letting the comforter envelop you. "i just—" he began, "go ahead, i'm listening," you said, as you pulled the covers over your head.
"i need a place to stay tonight," he sighed, his eyes pleading for your sympathy.
you groaned, the reluctance evident in your voice. patrick scoffed from across the room. "what about art?" you suggested, hoping he'd take the hint. "ugh... his roommate's in there. and he's weird," patrick complained, scrunching up his face. "pleaaaase," he begged, his pout almost comical.
"ugh! fine!" you relented, rolling your eyes. "i'll be out first thing in the morning anyway," he promised, pumping a fist in the air. "whatever," you muttered, "no farting, patrick, or i swear—"
he cut you off, running over to your bed and smothering your cheeks with kisses. he then stepped out of his shoes and jeans, pulling your throw blanket from the bed onto the floor. "can i have a pillow?" he asked, half-polite, half-sarcastic.
"i only have two," you replied, eyes closed.
"and you only have one head," he retorted, pulling the pillow from beneath your head. you landed on another you had below it. your eyes snapped open. "i'm regretting my decision already," you gritted, punching his arm.
"shhh," he hushed, squishing your face. you swatted his hand away. he turned off the main light, leaving the moonlight to cast a soft glow over the room.
patrick made a makeshift bed on the floor, the white noise from your small desk fan filling the silence. after a moment, he called out your name, knowing you weren't asleep. "do you wanna cuddle?" he asked.
what . . .
"just get up here, patrick," you said. you heard him immediately shuffle to his feet, grabbing the pillow and blanket from the floor. he crawled over you, snuggling up under your warmth. "we can't tell tashi," he whispered against your neck.
"fucking hell, patrick. close your mouth and go to sleep!"
the next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. on your desk was a hastily scribbled note: "thank you for taking me in." beside it sat a melted, watered-down smoothie, from patrick before he left at 5 a.m. you shook your head, picking up the cup.
"is this even drinkable?" you wondered aloud, throwing your head in exasperation.
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current obsession:)))
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choerypetal · 5 months
Text
Under the table / Dean Winchester
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summary: Dean and your relationship had been lacking a bit of spice. So, you made a deal between the two of you, amidst the teasing and perhaps a punishment or two, to reignite the excitement.
ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any little grammar errors
warning; very nsfw no plot hihi
enjoy! xo
Dean was the first to boldly admit to injecting some excitement into the relationship. Whether it was in the car or at the motel, he wasn't shy about spicing things up.
One day, as the two boys delved earnestly into another case's lore, Sam meticulously recounted every detail while Dean casually munched on his lunch. Yet, amidst their focus, Dean couldn't shake the thought of your whereabouts.
The excuse? You had informed Sam that you were out getting groceries, hoping to experiment with a new recipe you'd caught on a TV program. Tired of the usual pasta, bread, and beer that seemed to dominate the brothers' menu lately, you wanted to add something special to the mix.
"She better not make us something healthy," Dean's voice reached you just as you managed to slip under the table earlier undetected. Sam responded with a casual "Mhm," accompanied by a chuckle. Little did Dean know, you were right there with them, setting the stage for a playful tease the next time he wished to spend the night together. If only he knew tonight's menu was, in fact, healthier. You couldn't help but smile, knowing you couldn't laugh and risk giving yourself away.
Fortunately, Dean had taken a seat directly across from you, his familiar shoes and jeans catching your eye. Little did he know, he wasn't prepared for the surprise awaiting him, especially since your absence had been unmistakable.
"You know, maybe we can bring Charlie along," Dean suggested as your name came up once again in discussions about joining the boys on this mission. It was mentioned that your favorite creature was in town, and Dean couldn't bear the thought of you missing out on the action and the chance for a kill or two. Those thoughtful gestures made you blush, prompting a moment of hesitation before Sam and Dean refocused on reading more lore about the case.
Your hand delicately brushed against his bulge, causing Dean's muscles to tense, followed by a cough. You'd do anything to witness his reaction, especially when Sam inquired if he was alright. It was clear you were in for some punishment later tonight as Dean felt your familiar touch, gradually unzipping his jeans, the bulge now more pronounced. "Just a slight sore throat, that's all," he quickly dismissed.
You couldn't help but relish every moment, watching Dean struggle with excuses, particularly when it involved having a bit more fun. What you didn't realize was that even if he knew it was you all along, he didn't want you to get caught, let alone feel embarrassed as if you were fulfilling his desires. "Oh, sweet mother," he cursed under his breath, his back arching slightly as he covered his mouth before brushing it away.
Your hand then tenderly caressed his shaft, fingers deftly moving his boxer out of the way, unveiling his hardened cock. Lust danced in your eyes as warmth flushed your cheeks, leaning in to press a few kisses on its tip, where obvious pre-cum glistened. You delicately picked some on your fingers and licked the remaining. How Dean, cursed himself. When he yearned to thrust his hips the moment he felt your mouth envelopped his cock.
Dean's voice clearly heightened Sam's concern as he observed the redness on his brother's cheeks. Being the caring and protective sibling he was, Sam couldn't help but rise to his feet and check on Dean's potential fever. "I'll need to take Baby and head to the pharmacy anyways," Dean played along, going along with the idea, which meant more time to plan your punishment in return. "It won't be long," Sam said, grabbing his jacket and Dean's car keys before the sound of the vehicle faded away from the Bunker.
Alone at last, Dean removed the table curtain, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he leaned down to cup your face, devouring your lips hungrily. "Did you think I'd let you off that easily?" His voice was husky as he swiftly discarded his pants. Before you knew it, his fingers were tangled in your hair, guiding you to take him deeper. As you wrapped your lips around his cock, his moans grew louder, punctuated by your name. Leaning back in his chair, head thrown back and eyes closed, he urged you on. "Don't stop, love."
Your gaze met his, a look that undeniably ignited his desire, yet he knew he had to resist the urge to devour you right there on the table. It was a punishment he was more than willing to uphold.
"There, just like that," he murmured as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his shaft. Just as you were about to bring him to climax, your hand took over, stroking his cock. You felt his legs tense and his muscles contract as he reached orgasm. When his eyes reopened, Dean couldn't help but admire the sight before him. He knew your arousal was growing, how you longed for him to take you in his lap, but you both understood that you weren't getting off that easily.
"Nah, not yet, sweetheart," his voice grew huskier, his eyes darkening with desire. His fingers tightened around your waist, pulling you out from under the table. Your skirt rode up your thighs, revealing your obvious arousal through showing a glimpse of your damp underwear, his gaze inevitably drawn there. With a sly smirk, he knew it was payback time. "No touching until tonight—"
The door swung open, revealing Sam's incredulous expression. He was clearly disgusted to learn that the whole fever act was not just to save your skin, but also Dean's. "Under the table, really?!" To your surprise, instead of the expected look of disgust, there was almost a look of disapproval on his face.
"A room isn't enough?" Despite feeling a twinge of sympathy for him, you and Dean couldn't help but chuckle. In fact, Dean wore a proud expression and shrugged off his brother's comment. "What about dinner?" Sam then interjected, redirecting your attention from Dean’s.
"I went an hour ago," you said with a smirk. What Dean didn't realize was that it was actually going to be a healthy dinner. When you mentioned this, you could hear Sam's chuckle, a bit of payback in his amusement, while Dean's brow furrowed and he pouted. "One point from you for not returning the favor," you added, leaning in to peck his lips, eliciting a protest from Dean.
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fishermanshook · 4 months
Text
ASK: Hi:) if you feel like it how do you think ganji norton and naib would react to reader saying they feel safe with them?
“TRUST IN ME!”
( batter , prospector & mercenary ) + gn!reader
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occ , angst in naib & ganji’s part , grammar and spelling warning
INTRO
To fall in love is a risk not all are willing to take. Putting your heart on the line could result in rejection and heartache instead of love and happiness.
To fall in love in a place like this is out of the ordinary, but not exactly uncommon. And as you find yourself sinking more into your lovers embrace, you can’t help but whisper the words;
“I trust you.”
꒰wc꒱ 1.3k
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✦— THE BATTER
You say it to him after a match where one reckless move could’ve killed you.
It’s night when the Batter, Ganji Gupta, holds you tight in his arms. Maybe a little too tight for your liking, but you did put him in a frightening situation earlier today. You recall shoving him out of the way in order to save him from a blow to your head. You don't remember much after that. Just blurry memories of being in Emily's office and then, returning to your room with Ganji.
“Ganji,” you sigh, clawing at his arms in an attempt to free yourself from his grasp, even if it’s just a little bit. “You’ve gotta loosen up a little bit, please. I’m really sorry I did that earlier, but you needed to get out…”
Ganji is quick to stop your rambling by holding you (somehow) even tighter than before. “[name], you got hit on the head with an axe. None the less, a Detention hit. If I—“ Ganji sucked in a deep breath of air, letting it fall from his mouth before speaking again. "If I hadn't used my last ball I don't think you would've struggled out in time. And I don't want to think about having to leave you behind because that was your last chair."
Immediately, Ganji stiffens and sits ups. he seems to have finally processed what just happened.
"[name]. you could've died. And for what?" Ganji repeats the question while shaking you by your shoulders, tears pricking at his eyes threating to fall.
You cup his face and put your forehead to his, allowing his to fulling chompreheand the choice you made during the last match.
"I understand it was stupid of me," You start, closing your eyes. "But I don't do things without reason."
The Batter quickly wipes away at his falling tears, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Then why did you do it? You said it yourself, it was a stupid choice."
"Yes, but I did it for you. I did it because I have put more trust into you than anyone else in this wretched manor. And I knew, that even if I didn't make it out during that last game, that you would still be okay. Surviving another match means surviving another day. And for you, I'd do that again."
"God," Ganji wipes at his nose. "I hope you don't."
✦— THE PROSPECTOR
You say it to him when you’re tired and vulnerable. when anything can happen.
It was early in the morning when the Prospector, Norton Campbell, snuck into your room to pry you awake from your slumber. With your bedroom key in hand (you gave it to him in case of an emergency), he tip toed into your room. He couldn’t help but silently laugh as he peered at your morning appearance. Hair a mess with a side of droll staining your pillow. Cute, but he can stare more later.
The Prospector is quick to shake you awake, pinning your arms to your side so you don’t land a hit on him in fear of being attacked. As he hovers above you, he explains that there’s something he wishes to show you.
“But Norton,” you whisper into his ear “the sun isn’t even up yet.” You hoped the darkness of your room could conceal the light blush on your face.
“Exactly why I want you to come with me. I promise it’ll be worth it.” Norton mumbled, pulling you out from under the covers. Sliding on a pair of shoes, you drag your achy body behind him and follow the Prospector outside the manor.
Fresh dew covered the grass outside, making it a bit wet and chillier than usual outside. Fortunately, Norton had came prepared. Set up outside was a big fluffy blanket with more than enough pillows to spare. Two mugs of coffee residing inside.
“Ever seen the sunrise?” Norton asks, already knowing the answer based off your shocked expression.
You shake your head no as the Prospector reaches to grab your hand and lead you towards the spot. It didn’t take long to get settled, and when you did, you found your head in the core of Norton’s lap.
“Oh? What’s this?” Norton teased “cold aren’t ya’?” You shiver in his arms as a response. Before grabbing his face with your hands. It’s a weird position, but Norton doesn’t mind. Instead he leans into your touch. A soft smile on his face.
“Have I ever told you how much I trust you?” You ask with genuine curiosity.
“I’m not sure, have you?” Norton questions, brushing your hair to the side of your face.
“No, I’m being serious. Stuck in a place like this leaves everyone fending for themselves. But because I have you, I have someone to watch my back. I really appreciate that Norton. I trust you more than anyone else in this manor.”
Norton looks at you with sad eyes as he bends down to place a gentle kiss upon your forehead.
“I trust you more, doll.” He says as the sun starts to rise. Showering you in its warmth and light, a feeling he now resonates when it comes to you.
✦— THE MERCENARY
You say it to him during a particularly risky match where everything seems to be on the line.
There are time where a match can go inexplicably well, where everything goes absolutely perfect and you survive the game with all your limbs intact and the egotistical pride that comes with it.
Those aren’t all the time though, and when both sides are fighting it out until their last breath, it turns into a messy and an undoubtedly long match.
This seems to be one of them, and you’ve collected more than enough scars and bumps and bruises to prove it. You’re more than sure you’ll have to make a stop by Emily’s offfice, but now’s not the time to think about that. You must stay focus on your current task: stitching up Naib.
Sangria got him good this time as a long scar has taken shape on his back. Naib bites down on his bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the whimpers of pain he feels. He thought he was better at this. Better at pretending he wasn’t hurting. You know him all too well though.
“m’ sorry, ‘m sorry I know it hurts. I promise I’ll be done in just a second.” You say in attempt to comfort and reassure him. All he does is nod his head and sucks in a breath of air in order to steady himself.
The Mercenary is off the second he feels you tighten the last of his bandages. You’re quick to jump onto a cipher machine as well to catch up on the progress that was lost.
This match has been nothing short of a living, breathing disaster.
You still can't shake the ear piercing scream Fiona let out as she was hit down again minutes later, and you won't forget the horrible cut that now runs across Naib's stomach. You’d stich it up but you don’t have the time for it. Not when Fiona needs rescuing.
“Naib, take over the last cipher. I have to go in.” You tell the Mercenary, racing past him. He stops you, grabbing—no, shaking you by the shoulders.
“No, please, [name] don’t go in there. It’s not worth it we can, we can get—“ he continues to trip over his words out of fear and desperation. “please [name], I don’t wanna lose you.”
“Naib, I promise I’ll be out soon. I trust you, I wouldn’t go in if I didn’t.” And that’s that. You place a quick kiss on his forehead before dashing off towards Fiona’s chair. You hear him scream your name out afterwards.
note: KILLS MYSELF THIS IS ACTUALLY TERRIBLE [crys]
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