#got real shaky hands3< /div>
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accidentally drew A Wheat instead of doing my korean<3
#sleepy doodles#not mc#wheatley#portal 2#portal 2 fanart#god i remember why i dont do traditional art much#got real shaky hands</3#anyways i love my friend wheat#miniwheat#hes so autism
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sooo i know i said id update on the maximus build and then i sort of. didn't. oops.
but anyways! he's done!
not 100% happy with the coat so i might go back and paint the hood white, and the head doesnt fit on perfectly which makes his neck a bit weird, but eh. his one ankle got clogged with paint and doesnt bend, his back is snapped in a weird angle that also doesn't let him stand up straight,,,, he has so many problems and i barely care. i love my one of a kind little guy. my poor little meow meow.
#some paint mess ups. some chipped off already#so many joint issues because of the paint. i saturated those joints on accident#got too much eyeliner on his face and couldnt get it back off#lots and lots of imperfections#but it gives him character <3 hes so real for that <3#i mean look im pretty proud!! he doesnt look all too out of place next to the other official figures#the lines arent straight but i have very shaky hands and by god im not straight either#ALEBAKBRKA#maximus boltagon#id in alt text#crystal soon...... then i guess i should start looking for a non-funko lockjaw
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"helloooo lyla!! ive been reading your fics for a long time and I love them sooo much your such a great writer!
I was wondering if I could request jeonghan saying “marry me” in the middle of a rough sex?? ive been thinking about it for ages omg😭😭 (if your comfortable I’m not forcing!! <3)”
jeonghan saying “marry me” in the middle of a rough sex
warnings: smut, penetrative sex, cockriding, crying, needy moans
it wasn’t like you ever imagined that jeonghan, of all people, would let that slip. not when he’s got you riding him like you’re racing to some invisible finish line, his hands gripping your hips so tight it’s like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. you barely register the words at first, too caught up in the rhythm, in the filthy sounds coming out of both of your mouths, but then it hits you—
“marry me,” he breathes out, like a fucking confession, strangled and wrecked.
you freeze, body tensing. “wait, what?”
the room goes dead silent. the only sound left is your labored breathing. and his. and the stupid creaking bed under you both. you choke on your own spit, damn near swallow your tongue trying to process it, and jeonghan’s eyes are wide now, just as shocked as you. his face is this violent shade of red, cheeks flaming, and you swear you can hear his brain short-circuiting.
“i—” he stammers, looking away like that’ll save him from the mess he just made. “shit. i um—fuck.”
your brain’s doing cartwheels trying to catch up, but it doesn’t take long for the absurdity to hit you. you start laughing, like actual laughing, trying to hold it in but completely failing. you double over, one hand resting on his chest as he groans, embarrassment swallowing him whole.
“what the fuck did you just say?” you tease. “riding you so good you gotta wife me up, huh?”
“oh, shut up,” he groans, slapping your back in retaliation, though it’s more out of embarrassment than anything. his face is still red as hell, lips pressed together like he’s praying the earth’ll open up and swallow him whole. but the way he’s looking at you... that little crack in his usual cocky, rough persona has your heart doing this weird, fluttery thing in your chest.
“nah, nah, hold on,” you mock, starting to move your hips again, slow and teasing, feeling the way he twitches underneath you. “you really just—fuck—asked me to marry you?”
his hands snap back to your waist, that grip turning punishing. “i swear to god, don’t start.”
“why not?” you grin, feeling bold. “you mean it, hannie?”
“you want me to stop?” he asks, threatening, but you can hear the edge of it, the desperation he’s not quite able to mask. his hips buck up into you, almost instinctively, and you moan, losing some of your playful edge as your body melts back into his rhythm.
you bite your lip, trying to hold back another laugh. “didn’t say that.”
“good,” he hisses, grinding up into you harder, making sure you feel him. “then don’t fuckin’ tease me.”
but now, all you can think about is how real it feels, how intense his gaze is, and suddenly, his usual roughness feels... different. more desperate. he’s not just trying to make you moan, not just focused on his own pleasure—he’s unraveling, for you. “you didn’t answer me,” he mutters, words slurring together as you pick up speed again, each bounce making the bedframe shake. his hands are gripping your thighs now, pulling you down harder onto him, like he’s chasing something.
“huh?” you barely manage, mind spinning, trying to focus on anything besides the overwhelming feeling of him deep inside you.
he bites his lip, eyes glued to where you’re connected, his voice dropping to a low, shaky whisper. “say yes.”
you blink down at him, heart skipping a beat. he’s serious. fuck.
you’re not even thinking when you say it. “yes. i-i do.”
it’s like a switch flips. he lets out this sound—this needy, broken moan, and fuck, you’ve never heard him sound like that before. he sits up, practically yanking you down to meet his thrusts, arms wrapped tight around your waist, face buried in your neck. the pace is brutal, desperate, and you’re a mess of gasps and moans, every single one drawn out by the intensity of it all.
you don’t realize he’s crying until you feel it, those warm tears soaking your skin as he buries his face deeper against your shoulder. he’s shaking, breath hitching, but he doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop giving it to you exactly how you need it.
“fuck, you’re mine,” he whispers, voice wrecked, wet, needy. “all mine.”
you can barely respond, every nerve in your body on fire, but you clutch him tighter, fingers digging into his back, matching his rhythm with everything you’ve got. “yours,” you choke out, and that’s all it takes for him to fall apart completely. he’s holding you so close it’s like he’s afraid you’ll slip away, fucking you like he’s staking a claim, making sure you never forget this moment.
and then he cums, hard, dragging you over the edge with him, the two of you tangled in each other, breathless and whiny. jeonghan pulls back just enough to look at you, tears still clinging to his lashes, but he’s smiling now—the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.
“married to me, hm?” you tease heartily caressing his hair, panting, but your chest is warm, full.
“baby.” he groans, face contorting ready to cry again, making you chuckle, he pouts, burying his face in your neck again.
but you don’t miss the way his arms tighten around you. you don’t miss the way he holds you like he’s never letting go.
#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut#svt imagines#svt smut#jeonghan smut#jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan x you#yoon jeonghan x reader#yoon jeonghan smut#yoon jeonghan fluff#yoon jeonghan fanfic#yoon jeonghan x you#svt reactions#svt#svt x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fanfic#seventeen angst#seventeen au
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outlaw!rafe holding pogue!reader hostage in her own house after banging his fist on her door in the middle of a stormy night, demanding to be let in with a gun in hand and wild waves in the sea of his eyes…
cw: outlaw!rafe being mean and manipulative, mentions of murder, violence & other dark themes, he’s also weirdly soft in the end?
wc: 2k
he's been stuck in my head for a while so hope u enjoy xx
part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
There’s still sleep dust lingering in her lashes when she hesitantly cracks open the oak door at 3am, revealing a tall, scary man with scarlet stains on his big hands, white button up saturated in maroon and a scowl painted over his unsettling countenance.
She stands there like a deer in headlights, unmoving as he stares down at her with arctic eyes as chilling as the frigid waters surrounding an iceberg.
At first, she thinks she’s still asleep, tired brain conjuring up some creepy murderer scenario where she’s the idiot who does everything the audience in the movie theater is screaming at her not to. But as she properly blinks her sleepy eyes open, she comes to the realization that this is not a horror film and this intimidating stranger (with oddly appealing features) who’s definitely just killed someone is very much real.
She’s about to open her mouth and she’s not sure whether she was going to scream for help or simply stare at him with her mouth hung open in shock but she doesn’t get the chance to find out before he’s pasting a massive palm over her mouth.
“Don’t make a sound,” his low mutter makes a shiver run down her spine.
And she doesn’t, instead she just blinks, too out of it to even move a muscle; the reek of the dried blood on his hand hitting her nose, making her face scrunch up. And she doesn’t know why she’s not putting up any sort of a fight, blaming it on the fact that half of her brain is still swimming in the lake of her dreamland; soaking up the glittering sunbeams that never dull and dipping its toes in the grass that consists of misty nebula and twinkling stars.
And he’s just so mean, ordering her around with a gun to her head, manhandling her around to his liking, grumbling about needing to stay at her house for a bit since he needs a hiding place from the cops after dumping a body somewhere in the ocean and getting caught. Apparently, his temper really just got the best of him at times.
“I didn’t even mean to kill the guy, alright. He just kept pissing me off on purpose and I was provoked, what was I supposed to do?” He offers as an explanation that seems to do very little to soothe her overstrung heart that’s thudding in her ribcage. It’s loud enough for him to hear; almost as if she’s a terrified rabbit and he’s a big bad wolf, hunting down his prey.
“I’m taking a shower now, and you’re not gonna move an inch, you understand? Cause if you do, I’m gonna have to hurt you, and I really don’t wanna do that, okay?”
She nods her head, unable to form any coherent sentences.
He takes note of the way her inhale gets caught in her throat when he steps closer to her, inquiring whether she lives alone or not, to which she just nods her head again.
“Dumb girl”, he tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. “When someone’s knocking on your door in the middle of the night you don’t fucking open, alright?”
She’s making it entirely too easy for him.
The second he’s in her bathroom, she forces her exhausted brain to think; quickly coming up with a rickety plan as she listens to the water streaming down from behind the door. She waits for a moment, making sure the coast is clear before she bolts towards her bedroom, trembling fingers grabbing her phone from her nightstand and trying to dial 911.
However, her shaky hands don’t help her one bit when they drop the phone; the clattering sound of it hitting the floor echoing in the quietness of the room.
She can’t breathe, her brain short-circuits as she bends down, reaching for the wretched device that has somehow tumbled under her bed. However, when she finally catches it in an unsteady grip, she hears the shower turn off; an eerie stillness following. In her state of panic, she fruitlessly tries to turn it back on and call for help but it’s proving to be harder than she thought when her lungs decide to stop working, her respiration shallow and her heartbeat ringing in her ears.
“Boo,” a low whisper right behind her makes her blood run cold; a shiver traveling down her spine as she slightly jumps, a faint gasp leaving her.
“Why did you just do that, huh? Told you, didn’t wanna fucking hurt you and then you go and pull this shit,” a strong hand is gripping her by her throat as he turns her around to face him.
“I’m sorry, I...I don’t—” she’s paralyzed, unable to move.
“You don’t what, huh?” He stares into her horror-stricken eyes with an almost bored look, seemingly entirely indifferent to her torment.
“Can’t…can’t breathe,” her voice is nearly inaudible, making a grim chuckle bubble out of his chest.
“Can’t breathe? Maybe you should’ve thought about that before, yeah?” He scoffs, cruel words mocking her.
“You’re so fucking stupid, want me to kill you, is that what you want?” He grits out as he squeezes at her neck, making her feel dizzy; gasping for air.
“No! No, please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Won’t— won’t do it again, promise, I’ll do anything—” she manages to force out as he’s nearly crushing her windpipe in his unrelenting grip.
“Anything, huh? That’s real tempting and all but what I need you to do is not pull stupid shit like this, you understand?”
“I won’t, I promise. You can...stay here for as long as you want and I’ll help, okay?” she thinks she’s gonna pass out soon, stars peppering behind her fluttering lids and her weakened limbs starting to feel heavy. His coarse panting fills her eardrums as he seems to contemplate her offer for a moment.
“If you even think about running to the cops tonight, I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?”
She’s frantically nodding her head and at last, his hold begins to loosen around her trachea, allowing for her greedy lungs to finally suck in air as she takes a step back, trying to even out her respiration.
He doesn’t say anything, silently observing her as she clears her throat, swallowing a few times as she tries to pacify her racing heart and calm the thoughts running around her head; trying to reassure herself that she’s still alive and she will stay that way if she just doesn’t rile him up anymore.
He notices how her rounded eyes look up at him as he stands before her, smelling like her honey-scented body wash and orange blossom shampoo, nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, leaving very little to her imagination as the room grows quiet.
“What’s— um…what’s your name?” Her voice is creaky when she tries a different approach once she feels the flat floorboards under her wobbly feet again, a nervous hesitation overlaying her precarious question.
“Don’t worry about it,” he simply dismisses her, but a small pout molds her mouth as she stares at him and he lets out a discontented sigh, rolling his eyes.
“Rafe,” he finally responds, not bothering to ask for hers, seemingly not caring enough for it. She tells him, nonetheless and he laughs at her priorities. A literal criminal has broken into her home and she cares about fucking introductions.
“So…have you— have you killed anyone else?” She doesn’t know why she’s trying to make small talk with him but she supposes if she gets him to talk about something, choking her to death won’t be at the forefront of his mind anymore.
“You seriously wanna know?” He raises his brows.
She thinks about it for a moment and then settles on shaking her head, followed by a harsh chuckle rumbling out from his sturdy chest.
“So, uh— what is it that you do? Like besides…killing people and stuff?” She tries once more.
“Look, the less you know, the better, alright?” He simply states, making her let out a soft sigh in defeat.
All of a sudden, a vigorous thunder crackles behind her windows, an ablaze lightning illuminating her dimly lit bedroom soon after.
She flinches at the sound and the sinister way it momentarily lights up his face.
“You scared of a little storm?” He feigns concern as he peers down at her.
“N— no,” she lies, forcing her face to stay neutral, hesitant about him finding out her weaknesses.
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe, yeah?” The mocking grin on his face causes a shudder to travel through her as she swallows, wishing this was all just a nightmare she could wake up from.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
After that little incident, he thinks that she’s just as sweet as sugar, offering to make him tea and asking if he wants a blanket or an extra pillow so he’d be more comfortable sleeping on the couch.
He can tell that she’s merely doing it because she’s terrified of him, which she should be. Nonetheless, he thinks it feels nice to be pampered, doted on; to have a pretty girl following his orders like a trained puppy. Makes him figure he's gonna enjoy his stay just fine.
The following morning though, he’s woken up by her shaky figure standing next to his own tired form, pointing his gun at him.
His softened bones feel mellow from the sleep and he lets out a sigh, rubbing at his sleepy eyes and shifts to sit on the couch cushions; teasingly lifting his hands up in surrender.
“Puppy’s got a gun, huh? Trying to be all tough now, are we?” There’s a lazy smile on his face.
“I— I want you to…leave,” she says, voice rickety and words unsure.
And he’s trying to take her serious, he really is, but it’s proving to be a little difficult since she resembles a scared little kitten more than someone who knows what they’re doing.
“You want me to leave? Maybe you should work on your pitch, I’m not very convinced, you know?” The exasperating smirk plastered on his face makes her brows crease.
“Rafe, this is not a joke,” a scowl shades her face and he thinks she looks rather adorable.
“Come on, Puppy. You’re not gonna shoot me. You don’t even know how to use that thing, do you?” His voice is even; she hesitates.
“Well, it can’t be that…complicated?” It’s more of a question than a statement and he really can’t keep the chuckle from bubbling out of his throat. Her frown deepens.
“Why don’t you give it to me, yeah? You don’t want death on your conscience. Would break you, you’re too soft for that shit.”
“You don’t— know me.”
“I know you enough,” he says, finally standing on his feet. He takes a slow step towards her and she squeezes the gun tighter in her trembling fingers.
“If I give it to you, you’re gonna— you’re gonna…kill me. I don’t wanna die,” her words are hysterical, rushed.
“Now who said anything about killing you? Look, if you give me the gun right now, I’m not gonna do anything. I give you my word, alright?” He’s towering over her, solid chest nearly grazing the barrel.
“I don’t trust you,” her voice is a whisper.
“I know, Pup. But I also know that you’re not gonna use that,” his steady hands are a contrast to her own precarious ones when he grabs for the firearm, slipping it from her weak fingers with ease.
“There we go, no need to be so fucking theatrical, yeah?” He lowers his head in order to lock his eyes with her frenzied ones.
“See? Not hurting you, am I?”
She manages out a hum of agreement and then her waterline is brimming with water, salty droplets trickling down her cheeks as she chokes out a sob. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”
“Hey, hey it’s all good. Mistakes happen, yeah?” He says and then his strong arms are wrapping around her trembling form because he’s not a complete monster and for some reason that makes her weep harder.
Her crocodile tears wet his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind, big paw rubbing against her back. And it’s almost…comforting, she thinks as he starts to sway her from side to side, like he’s trying to calm down a crying child.
“There you go, just let it all out and maybe you can chill out a bit, yeah? You Pogues can be so fucking dramatic sometimes,” he pats at her back, rolling his eyes as she takes in shaky inhale after shaky inhale until she’s feeling slightly more placid.
“Shit, if I’d known you were such a crybaby I would’ve picked another house,” he grumbles, pulling away from her weakened form, pushing her back to stumble on her feet; setting the gun back on the coffee table with a clank.
#i need him#outlaw!rafe#rafe cameron#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron obx#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron angst#rafe fic#obx fic#obx smut#obx#obx fanfiction#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron and reader#rafe angst#stockholm syndrome
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I don’t think I’ll ever get over Logan and Jean making out in x-3, getting scratched so hard he bleeds and instead of running away he MOANS AND GOES IN FOR MORE. LIKE THEY GAVE US EVIDENCE THAT LOGAN IS A MASOCHIST. ITS CANON HE LIKES PAIN WITH HIS PLEASURE.
Anyway here’s some masochist!Logan hc’s :))
Likes eating your pussy because when you’re close you tug on his hair so hard the feeling goes straight to his dick.
Actually you pulling on his strands at all is enough to get him off. Please lead him around when you do it, his brain shuts off immediately
Biting. Please do so. It’s cute when it’s playful but when he’s got you bouncing on his dick and you’re so loud the only thing you can think to do is bite his shoulder to stay quiet???? Head empty no thoughts
Scratching his back???? Nirvana. If his healing factor wasn’t so good he’d spend a good amount of time in the mirror admiring the angry red lines.
Biting his lip during a kiss is a foolproof method to get him to bend you over the nearest object and fuck you, doesn’t matter the circumstances. He feels your teeth and you’re gonna start feeling shaky in the legs real soon.
The worst (or best, depending on your definition) you’ve ever been fucked by Logan is when you two had an arguement and for some reason you slapped him. Full force too, all five fingers across his cheek, so hard that his head completely turned as the echo of it bounced across the walls.
Yeah it hurt your hand after, hitting raw metal tends to do that to you.
But the look in his eyes when he turned back???
Lord help you.
Three hours later and an unrecognizable amount of orgasms later he was still fucking into your sloppy hole, cum staining the sheets below you as he fucked you within an inch of your life.
You’re pretty sure you passed out at some point because there’s a huge block of time missing, but he still kept sliding into your warm cunt.
Anyway that’s how you found out Logan likes being slapped around a bit thank you for coming to my ted talk
#robo speaks#Robo writes#i feel very passionately about this#I wanna use him as a scratching post#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut
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Right Here ll
Pairings: Wooyoung x Reader
Genre: Smut
Word Count: 6k~
Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI. THIS IS THE SECOND PART TO RIGHT HERE!! This wasn´t proofread and I kind of wrote it with my ass so I´m sorry. I´ll slowly start tagging everyone who asked me to, sorry if I forget someone I´m stupid.
Follow me on twitter pleaseeee: wooyosgfreal <3
Part 1
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
“We´re not fucking,” You informed in between labored breaths.
“We don´t have to fuck, I just need you to sit on my face.”
You never whined so loudly in your life before.
That was the one single thing you have been dreaming about hearing for weeks now and you were so happy you could practically cry, in fact, you almost came right there without even being touched.
Wooyoung noticed the semi-thorn look still present on your face and sighed, holding your cheeks so you were forced to stare him in the eyes like he was speaking to a misbehaving child, “Y/N, I don´t care. I don´t care about whatever stupid game we were playing, ok? We will wake up tomorrow and pretend this never happened and continue to be the bestest of friends, but let me have this tonight.”
“Like it never happened.” You repeat stupidly. Can´t believe you were already fucked dumb without actually being fucked. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Ok.”
“Good. Now let me make the most out of it because I´ve been thinking about this for so fucking long.”
He gave you no time to think this time, lips clashing against yours once again and you were embarrassed at how fast you melted against him – he just had a way with his mouth like you´d never seen before. His palms rubbed up your back under your shirt and you shivered at the touch, accidentally grinding against him and earning a groan in response, his hips automatically bucking up and a groan leaving his lips right against yours. Your hands flew to his hair in need, grabbing his roots as you continued to grind into him shamelessly, breathing getting harder by the second. You felt like an animal, just wanting to rip his shirt out and kiss all of his skin. You were so close from just dry humping a bit, his labored breathing mixing with yours, the sounds coming from his mouth so heavenly, the short breaths -
“Nop, can´t wait,” Wooyoung panted as he broke the kiss. You were still trying to figure out what he meant when he slid down and practically threw you up his body so fast you could only yelp in surprise.
And there it was.
The sight you´ve been dying to see.
Wooyoung under you pulling your hips so you would straddle his face.
You took a shaky breath, wanting to appreciate the view for a moment after how long you´ve been imagining it, Wooyoung looking so pretty with his long hair and - but he was not having it, grabbing the back of your thighs and urging you to scoot all the way forward. He did look like the happiest man on earth once you got into the position he wanted, his eyes practically twinkling as he pulled your shorts and panties to the side again, another groan leaving his lips at the sight of you.
“Fuck, can´t believe this is really happening,” He dazedly smiled before raising his head to meet your core, body supported up by his elbows.
Wooyoung took a long slow lick up your slit like he wanted to savor it, but you knew better: he was just being a tease, especially considering he was looking up at you with mischievous eyes. His lips then met your clit in a quick chaste kiss and you whined - He sure was taking his sweet time for someone allegedly so desperate. But then again, what did you expect from Jung Wooyoung?
“Let me enjoy this,” He teasingly scolded you for whining. “This is a dream come true for some of us.”
You glared at him, but the mean look was quickly interrupted as he finally - and suddenly - put his mouth to real work.
“Oh fuck,” You cursed in surprise at the feeling, hands immediately flying to the wall for support.
To say you were seeing stars was not an exaggeration, he would kiss and suck, his tongue would draw shapes against your clit that you couldn´t even make up, head too dizzy with all the sensations. You didn´t even realize you had closed your eyes but there you were, eyelids shut so tight you thought you´d never be able to see again.
“Shit,” You moaned with a spasm of pleasure.
“Told you I was good,” He smirked up at you, chin glistening and lips plumper than ever.
“Shut up,” You groaned, grabbing his hair and pulling him back where you wanted him so you wouldn´t have to look at him and his cocky smile.
He simply laughed, the vibrations against your core driving you insane as he continued with his work. Your mind was practically slime at the point, only being able to focus on your high and how close it was, you knew that for some reason you had to be quiet but you couldn´t even remember why anymore –
Oh, right: Wooyoung cocky, Wooyoung big ego, Wooyoung bad.
Wooyoung sped up his tongue and you betrayed yourself when a moan escaped past your lips, alerting him you were at the edge. You held your breath and braced yourself, ready to let go -
Wooyoung suddenly leaned back, breaking your trance, “You sound so pretty.”
You opened your eyes to look at him, thrown aback – it was once again like a bucket of water had been thrown at you.
The whole bucket, not just the water.
“What´s wrong?” He looked up at you worriedly after you just stared at him gob smacked for a second.
“I-I was close.”
“Oh, I´m sorry princess,” He furrowed his eyebrows apologetically. “Let me make it up to you.”
And so he did, his lips once again meeting your clit, tongue alternating between drawing circles, flicking it side to side and whatever it was he did that got your knuckles turning white against the wall. This time Wooyoung decided to go the extra mile, you felt a little shift in bed as he stopped supporting himself in one of his arms - but your eyes were once again shut close so you weren´t able to see what he was doing. You literally mewled when one of his fingers traced your slit before slowly entering you.
He groaned against you for the nth time, you could feel how tightly your walls were squeezing his finger, but it was mostly because you had never been this turned on before. As he ate you out, his finger gently opened you up before he added another one, little gasps leaving your lips because it was just so insane.
Was Wooyoung really that good or had you just been horny for that long?
Who knew that Jung Wooyoung, the guy you were pretty sure was gay not even 2 weeks ago, was so fucking good at eating pussy?????
The pads of his fingers found a spot inside of you that no one ever did before and you found your hips subconsciously bucking against his hand every time he pulled out.
“Fuck, I´m so close.”
You took a deep breath and prepared for the wave of pleasure to wash over you -
“Did you say something?” He asked, stopping all his movements to pay attention to you.
You opened your eyes once again, Wooyoung was innocently looking up, expecting your answer, and you were about to cry out in frustration when you realized:
He was doing it on purpose.
“I will murder you.”
“Why?” He looked so genuinely confused.
“I fucking know you, Jung Wooyoung.”
The innocent boy façade crumbled down so quickly as he smirked, “You know I like it when you´re mad.”
“You got it. Happy?”
“Well, no. You haven´t begged yet.”
“I swear to god I´ll get up and go to Mingi��s-”
“Sit on my face.”
“What?”
“Sit on it, so you´ll have full control.”
Your legs got so weak suddenly.
“I´m not above begging,” Wooyoung must have taken your shock as hesitation because he was quick to offer nonchalantly with a shrug. “If that´s what it takes.”
“I´ll suffocate you-”
“And I´ll go as a happy man, now come here,” He ordered as he leaned down so his back was now flat against the mattress. “Please?”
You didn´t really need to be asked a third time - not that you´d have the chance to anyways, Wooyoung was already eagerly grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you forwards. He somehow even felt how you were still supporting part of your weight on your knees so you wouldn´t crush him, and not happy with that, he circled his arms around your thighs and forced you to let go, falling completely on top of him – well, his face.
The worries over suffocating him were gone in an instant, though. If you thought he was good before, it was definitely because you hadn´t tried this yet. Suddenly it was worth fantasizing all these weeks about this moment, not even in your wildest dreams (and you mean that literally) did it ever reach this level of insanity.
You felt Wooyoung´s hands grabbing your ass and kind of pushing it back and forwards against his tongue, it took a few rounds of that for you to realize what he was doing.
He wanted you to ride his face.
“Fuck,” You moaned, too overwhelmed to process anything.
Wooyoung was again not happy with your lack of action and continued to forcefully grind your core against his face and your clit kept bumping against his nose and oh god, his nose.
After being edged twice already, you were terrified of there being a third time, but it was just impossible to be quiet, you were just out of your mind, you had never seen yourself like this before. I mean, you had never felt like this before either -
Were all the men you ever slept with really just that bad?
No. Mingyu was amazing in bed, Wooyoung was just... Wooyoung.
Wooyoung and his stupid fucking nose.
At some point you gave him what he wanted without even realizing, your fingers deep within the roots of his hair as you grinded against his tongue searching for your high and he seemed to be having the time of his life, moans muffled between your thighs as he moved his head to help you out.
You didn´t think Wooyoung would be able to edge you this time even if he wanted to, considering you were practically...well, immobilizing him - but you´d also never doubt Jung Wooyoung´s ability of being annoying and you were so so so fucking close.
“Please.”
Were you begging?
You?
Begging Jung Wooyoung?
Has he really driven you that low?
Wooyoung´s fingers dug into your thighs, your ass, your waist, anything he could reach - and that´s how he took you by surprise once again; about 2 seconds before your high hit, Wooyoung managed to flip you over and climb on top of you in between your legs.
“This was fun,” He smiled and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “Want to start the episode over?”
This situation was so surreal that your brain couldn´t even try to process it, staring blankly at him as your chest heaved up and down against his.
“Jung Wooyoung, I´m being so serious right now.”
“What?”
“What twisted stupid little game are you playing?”
“Oh, no games. You said we couldn´t fuck so I stopped before you know, it could get to it.”
You stared at him like he had just told you the Earth was flat. You hated him so much you hated yourself - but at the same time, it was like looking in the mirror. You felt so fucking bad to everyone you ever slept with before, if you knew how annoying it was you´d have never been the way that you are.
You could curse at him, you could yell at him, you could even kick him out of your place, but at the moment, none of that would give you what you wanted, so for now, all you had to do was take a deep breath, swallow your pride and admit you just got out-brattied by Jung Wooyoung. You could kill him after he fucked you. Wait-
or -
OR-
“Restart the episode,” You ordered after over a literal minute of silence, rolling down to his side in bed.
“What?” Oh, the amount of money you´d pay to see the look of shock and desperation on his face again. He was just so sure you´d back down and ask him to fuck you.
“Restart the episode,” You repeated yourself.
“Oh, ok,” You watched as he gulped and did as he was told, adjusting his body so he was comfortable against the pillow as he pressed play on the remote.
You unpresumptuously turned tonyour side, placing your thigh on top of Wooyoung´s and your hand on his chest, his body jumping at the contact.
“Jumpy, are we?” You teased, using his own words against him.
“What are you doing?”
“Cuddling. Relax your arm.”
Wooyoung skeptically wrapped his arm around your shoulders so you´d both be more comfortable and you snugged into him, waiting for him to get his guard down and ignoring how you could literally see his dick throbbing in his sweatpants.
Serves him right.
Once his breathing was as back to normal as possible, you decided it was time to attack. His body was still tense and you knew he was not paying attention to the TV, probably stuck in his head trying to come up with another plan since his first one failed, his feet twitching restlessly.
Maybe Mingi was right, why couldn't you two just fuck like normal people without having to write a 600 pages long tactical book on how to get to it?
Ignoring the deep voice of reason sighing in your head – Oh god, when did Mingi become the voice of reason on anything? - you quickly climb on top of Wooyoung to straddle him. He tried to sit up in reaction but your palm against his chest pushed him back down. He stared up at you in surprise, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he scrambled for something to say.
“You know what we can do, though?” You asked, bending down so you could kiss his neck.
“What?” He stuttered; shivers running up his body caused by your warm mouth against his skin.
“You´ll see.”
You felt his pulse racing under your lips, tracing his vein with kisses and gentle bites, even a suck here and there to leave a mark because you wanted him to look in the mirror for the next weeks and remember the day he lost.
Soft little moans and gasps filled your ears, his hands found your waist and held you like he wasn´t sure if he wanted to pull you closer or push you away. Wooyoung´s neck was just so sensitive, it was driving you insane.
You pushed his shirt up to his chest as you slid down his body, lips trailing their way from his abdomen to the waistline of his sweats. This time you went straight to business, pulling his pants down enough so his cock could spring free and you were so happy with that you saw: Wooyoung was so hard, painfully hard - You allowed yourself to enjoy his suffering because 1. it was his own fault and 2. revenge.
You gently wrapped your hand around his member and after wetting your lips, you pressed a kiss to his tip, his whole body shivered, and a choked moan left his mouth in response. You slowly traced his cock with your tongue from the bottom to the top and the groan echoing the walls was like music to your ears. His hands were gripping the sheets tightly. His whole body was tense.
“Wooyoung, love,” You called with the sweetest voice you could mutter up.
“What?” He answered in between gritted teeth as you finally wrapped your mouth around his tip. You circled your tongue around it slowly before giving it a gentle suck, letting spit dribble down as you pulled away. “Fuck.”
“Pay attention. I´m going to be clear from the start,” You warn him, slowly pumping his now wet cock . “I´m not finishing you off, period. Now, should I continue or should I stop?”
“Fuck. Continue,” He groaned at your ministrations.
And you obeyed. You didn´t want to tease him anymore, you just wanted to get him worked up enough that he wouldn´t be able to think properly – and then, hopefully, he´d finally throw you down and fuck you without being annoying.
You wrapped your lips around him once again, bobbing your head up and down, reaching deeper each time, twisting your hand at the base for some extra flare as Wooyoung´s hands found your roots. He bucked his hips in pleasure, pushed your head down once or twice in reaction to something you´d done, rewarded you with moans and groans. You kind of really enjoyed this but you´d be caught dead before admitting it - Wooyoung´s voice was just really nice.
“Fuck, you´re good at this,” He groaned and you simply hummed in agreement, rejoicing at the moan he let out because of the vibrations around him. “Even better than I imagined. Fuck.”
Your mind was also filled with curses, your walls desperately clenching around nothing as you mentally begged for Wooyoung to just fuck you soon or you´d cry. Hopeful, you sped up your actions, his breathing matching the fast new rhythm, and you could tell he was close by the way his hold on your hair got tighter and his hips started erratically bucking up.
Ok, showtime.
You waited for the exact moment his moans got higher to pull away from him, getting back on your knees and just staring at him, waiting to see what it was gonna be.
He looked confused, then angry, then it seemed like he finally understood what he had agreed to. He stared at you like that for a few seconds and you were kind of starting to reconsider your whole life when he interrupted you; Wooyoung sat up and grabbed your waist, flipping you around so he was on top of you once again.
“Ok, you won. Happy?” He was smiling but his eyes looked kind of dangerous, like a cat´s. His hand was around your neck, not squeezing it, just holding you down.
“Won what?” You played dumb.
“Stop,” He glared at you, unamused.
“Ok.”
“I´m going to fuck you now.”
“Ok.”
“Awn, is that all it took? Should have tried that earlier,” He teased, sitting on his knees to pull your shorts and panties down. “Need some more prepping or-”
“Oh god, please no.”
He chuckled at your reaction, bending down to give you a quick peck on the lips, “Pretty.”
Why did that little kiss make you kind of giddy when the man was literally pulling his sweats back down and positioning his cock against you?
You ignored the weird feeling as you felt Wooyoung finally entering you, a long moan echoing in the room. Why did he have to sound like that?
“You can keep going,” You urged him when he didn´t immediately start moving, you were so fucking wet you think a fire extinguisher would suffer no resistance from your walls at this point.
“Shit, wait,” He groaned with a laugh. “If I move right now, this party´s gonna be over real soon.”
“The high oh mighty sex god Wooyoung?” You teased.
“Shut up, I´ve been waiting for this for a long time,” His smile looked so attractive in that moment you kind of forgot what you were teasing him over.
“Are you going to say it´s because I´m too hot?”
“Yeah, actually.” He laughed. “I haven´t taken your shirt off yet because I don´t think I can handle seeing your boobs right night.”
You laughed too, about to continue playing with him but he interrupted you by suddenly bottoming out. You clawed at his back in reaction, a surprised deep gasp leaving your lips.
Wooyoung slowly pulled all the way out before filling you again, his hips smooth as you felt his skin against yours, the large veins on his cock brushing against your walls. Supported by both arms on your sides, he kept a languid pace, like he wanted you to feel every inch of him on every inch of you, and you were definitely feeling it. Your walls so sensitive after months of torture.
His hair fell around his face and you pushed it back with a moan, wrapping your legs around his hips. Wooyoung bent down to catch your lips with his, the kiss matching the rhythm in which he rolled his hips, sensuous and unhurried.
“Fuck,” he moaned as he broke apart from you, his arms literally shaking at the feeling of you swallowing him. “If I knew you felt like this-”
“What would you have done?” You managed to breathe out with a smirk and a roll of your eyes, incredulous at his words.
“I would have made you mine,” Wooyoung groaned as he slightly sped up his hips, your nails digging deeper on his skin and you arched your back when his cock started brushing against a certain place.
“Never took you for the ah- possessive type.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
“Fuck me like you mean it then.”
“Someone´s eager, huh?”
“If I´m crushing my moral compass, at least it should be worth it.”
He used one of his hands to grab at your cheeks once again, tighter this time, smirking down at you without slowing down his thrusts, “Ah, you want me to destroy you for any other man. Gotcha, pretty.”
Well, you never thought you´d be hearing your best friend direct those words at you – and you definitely didn´t expect to be clenching around him over it.
“Thought so,” He smiled.
You were mesmerized by the way he looked so hot with that cocky smile, by how the mole under his eye drove you crazy, by the way he looked at you with so much desire and conceitedness at the same time – you subconsciously tightened your walls around him and he definitely noticed if the way he opened his pretty lips in a moan were anything to get by.
His pace quickened up one more time and it got you seeing stars, Wooyoung laughing at your loud moan, “Admit that I´m good.”
“Does it make you harder if I stroke your ego?”
“It totally does.”
“If you wanted to be praised, just say so.”
“You wouldn´t, you don´t have it in you,” a thin layer of sweat was forming on his face, his tan skin glistening and you just wanted to lick it.
“Give me something to praise you for.”
Wooyoung laughed darkly before flipping you over without a warning, putting you on all fours with zero to no effort, cursing at the sight in front of him. He caressed his hands down your back before pushing your torso down, you groaned in surprise as your arms failed and you crashed on the bed, your left cheek meeting the sheets as he held your hips up.
“I wanted to be nice, since you know, you´re my best friend,” He rambled as he admired the view for a second before laughing. “But I know you, should´ve known you´d want to be fucked like a slut.”
“Wooyoung-”
“What? Am I lying?”
“Just get on with it,” You groaned.
He chuckled loudly at your annoyance, choosing not to bite back because he too was very much in need of having his cock inside of you, and so he did. Wooyoung grabbed his member, positioning the head against your entrance, his other hand stayed in your lower back holding you down as he pushed himself in, feeling the way every inch of you squeezed around him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn´t help but close his eyes to take the feeling in, hearing how his moans mixed with yours.
“You really were needy, huh?” He groaned, shivering at the sensations. “You´re squeezing me so hard.”
He didn´t expect an answer to that, and you wouldn´t be able to give him one anyways as he immediately began to move. You grabbed at the sheets, fingers turning whiter and whiter as Wooyoung sped up his hips, never losing the right angles to get you drooling - and you just caught yourself thinking this is something people would go to war over.
You could not hold back your moans and Wooyoung was only going faster and harder by the second, your cheek was getting burnt because of the friction with the sheets, your sensitive nipples were rubbing against the bed with each thrust, and you think your eyes were closed but you couldn't be certain.
This was a whole new world and you were not sure you´d survive adventuring in it.
Suddenly, you were dragged away from your state of pure bliss by the hair – literally. Wooyoung had grabbed at your strands to pull you up against him, forcing you to stand on your knees, his back pressed to your back.
In this new position, his cock reached deeper into you and his skin dragged against different spots of your walls. You were babbling away, complete nonsense, especially when Wooyoung took advantage of the easy access to start sucking harshly on your neck, your hand flying to his thigh behind you, where you dug your nails into. When he was done, he grabbed at the hem of your shirt, lifting it off you in one quick pull, looking over your shoulder at the view. You didn´t miss the way his cock twitched inside of you, his groan right against your ear. Wooyoung hands automatically flied to your boobs, massaging them, squeezing them, toying with your nipples while not slowing down his hips one bit.
“Hang in there,” Wooyoung ordered when he felt how your walls were spasming around him, voice shaky because of his non-stopping thrusts.
“I can´t.”
“Will you really give me the – ah – satisfaction of cumming first?” You could feel his smile against your neck, before he bit your skin playfully.
It was not even on purpose the way you clenched around Wooyoung, earning a whine from him in response, his forehead meeting your shoulder. The smirk you let out thought, was completely on purpose. You wouldn´t let him get that cocky.
“Don´t worry, pretty. I´m a gentleman, ladies are always first,” He managed to tease in between thrusts. One of his hands left your boob, snaking it softly down your abdomen until his fingers found your clit.
You were a goner. Wooyoung´s cock ravished you while he drew circles against your clit with the pad of his middle finger, his lips on your neck left wet kisses all over, vibrating against your skin with each moan he let out. His left hand was still playing with your boobs and you felt tears stinging your eyes from the way you were holding your orgasm inside, not wanting him to win this new silent war. Your teeth sunk into the back of your hand to keep yourself grounded, squeezing your eyes shut to relieve the burn.
Wooyoung felt what you were doing, chuckling darkly against your ear as he finally left your neck alone, “Who would have thought, huh? Miss we´re-never-fucking crying on my cock.”
You tried to fight back, but the second you left your hand go, a moan filled the room and your head fell. Wooyoung´s left hand abandoned your boobs to find its new place around your neck, holding your head up on his shoulder, and no matter how much you fought it, the moment he squeezed his fingers around your throat, you couldn´t hold it in anymore.
“Woo,” You tried to warn him, hands looking for anything you could grab behind yourself and finding his hair.
He pressed around your neck harder, turning his head so his lips would be right against your ear as he pleaded, “Let go. I need to see how you look when you cum, I´ve been imagining it for so long. You sound so good, you feel so good, fuck.”
And suddenly, it´s like everything went quiet for a second before it all exploded, destroying everything on its way. The orgasm ripped you apart like an atomic bomb, engulfing you whole, leaving you blind, deaf and shaking. You gasped for air, feeling like your legs were failing you after the waves of pleasure were still hitting you for way longer than they should. Wooyoung in turn, after fantasizing about this for so long, expected to be ready for it, but oh boy, he wasn´t. Even if he fucked you for years, he doesn´t think he´d ever be prepared for the way your walls clenched around him so tight he almost couldn´t move, or the way you pulled on his hair harshly enough to almost rip his strands out, but what he would never get over, was how you sounded; not even in his craziest fantasies could he ever create such beautiful sounds – he was 99.5% sure he would be able to cum just by listening to your moans alone. So whiny, so desperate, so you.
He didn´t stop, ensuring you´d have the best damn orgasm of your life, his fingers working on you all throughout your high, even when he felt his own approaching, bucking his hips into you like an animal just desperate to get there. His teeth found the juncture of your shoulder and neck once again as he reached his peak in a few deep thrusts, holding onto you for dear life. Only then his fingers stopped and you finally started coming back to reality, feeling as Wooyoung came inside of you, hearing his heavy breathing against your skin, the way his fingers let go slightly from your neck and how he pressed a few chaste kisses to your neck as he came down from his high, paying special attention to his bite mark.
“Fuck,” He managed to breath out, gently removing his hands from you.
As expected, you immediately tumbled down into the bed, legs completely gone at the point. You whined at him for dropping you and he simply chuckled tiredly, muttering a sorry before flopping down next to you. Your eyes were closed but you felt his weight next to you as he gently removed your hair out of your face.
“So?” He asked.
“So what?” You groaned, not bothering to look at him.
“Feeling better?”
“Ask me again when my legs stop shaking.”
“Well, I guess that´s an answer on its own.”
Wooyoung had created a whole new problem without knowing it. Yes, it was truth that you got the sexual frustration and touch deprivation out of you, but now you´d never be able to get over this. You´d remember how Wooyoung ate you out every time you met, of how he fucked you until you cried every time you looked at your bed, how he made you ride his face every time you looked at his stupid nose; and the worst part was that, once you get needy again, you won´t want anyone else to fix it for you. Wooyoung truly ruined you for any other man.
“Can you tell me if I did a good job, at least?” His voice sounded soft, so you opened your eyes to look at him because the tone and the question were so out of character for him.
“The Jung Wooyoung worried about others´ opinions?”
“I wouldn´t if it was anyone else, but it´s you.”
“Woo, don´t get cocky,” You warned with a sigh. “And if you ever bring this up I´ll deny it until the day I die, but this was life changing.”
“Oh, wow. I really did fuck you stupid.”
“And you´ve ruined it,” You rolled your eyes.
“C´mon, I´m just playing. I´m glad I made you feel good. What do you want from me now? Cuddles? Something to drink?”
And suddenly you remember why this whole mess started in the first place.
“Yeah, actually.”
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
“Stop looking at me like you´re in love with me,” You warned as the hot water comfortably burned your skin.
“I do love you,” His eyes looked so soft under the moonlight shining through the window.
“I said in love, not love.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yeah?”
He shrugged, “All I know is that I love you.”
“Awn, you like like me?” You teased.
“Would that be such a horrible idea?”
“Wooyoung.”
“What?”
“You´re pussy drunk.”
“That too,” He lazily smiled, gently hugging you under the stream so you were chest to chest.
You felt his hot skin against yours as he simply held you there in the dark, his chin resting on top of your head as he softly swinged the two of you side to side, your hands around his waist. This was heaven to you; this is what you were literally crying over all those weeks ago.
“We should try it out,” He continued after a few minutes of comfortable silence, running his fingers down your back.
“What?”
“Dating.”
You laughed at the idea, knowing he didn´t really mean it, “I don´t think that would go very well.”
“Why not?”
“I mean, we´re complete opposites. I´d give it less than two months before we´re calling it quits and choking each other to death.”
“We´ll never know until we try.”
“And you decided you want to?”
“I guess. Turn around, let me shampoo your hair.”
You obeyed, handing him the bottle so he could get to work, the chill air immediately hitting you.
“Wooyoung, I know you love me, but I don´t think you do romantically.”
“I´m not sure I know the difference,” He answered genuinely, rubbing the shampoo onto your roots. “But I do know that I want to be able to kiss you again.”
And he was right, you didn´t need to overcomplicate things as usual, it was as simple as that: you also wanted to kiss him again, so why not?
“Ok, yeah. I guess we could try. First Cristiano Ronaldo impression and we´re breaking up, though.”
A/N: Who wants a little epilogue of how their dating experience will go? lol
taglist: @wyrated @ohhwaa @bianca9889r @pnkified @i-love-ateez @luvleejuyo @rndm2413 @skittyneos @lyracarvahall @popialover @tunafishyfishylike @cherry-yoongs @sagittariusmoonlover @kosmicbomb @honniebabez @rose948 @khjoongie98 @jintastic-yuyu @evangelinemyamor @insomniacatiny @idfkimhereforsmut @yeetyeetbitchz @vixensss @msfixon @socutesotall @tatototat @e3ellie @zombiecheri @luvvfayte @thicksimpx @yeetyeetbitchz @xosannie @katykatmeow @donnakim87 @mimimimimimis-world @topazzateez @dawn-iscozy
#ateez smut#wooyoung smut#wooyoung fics#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung scenarios#jung wooyoung#ateez x reader#ateez fics#ateez scenarios#wooyoung
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Television Influence
Homicipher || Mr. Crawling + GN Reader
So... I have no idea how to use Tumblr to write fics But. Consider this my trial before it goes down :3
CONTENTS: (1) mentions & descriptions of murder, (2) kissing
Disclaimer: the part about MC being an assassin is just a hc I came up with. There are spoilers under the cut, though (at least I think I put the cut, idk tho)
So hear me out. Idk if anyone did this yet, but listen: after bringing your sweetheart (Mr. Crawling, obviously) to the real world, things went back to normal. Sort of. You were never really normal to begin with.
********
You went back to your old job, hacking and killing, keeping the bills steady with commissions, yada yada. Corporate worker on weekdays, but at night and on weekends, you're a highly sought out eliminator.
This busy schedule didn't sit right for Mr. Crawling, though. Every time you came back, you noticed that he sat before the door, already waiting for you to twist the knob and push. You installed cameras to try to keep your eyes on what he did, only to find out that if his presence was caught on camera, the film would glitch and blur and static would pepper across your screen. Still, you were able to decipher what he did through the choppy feed.
He stood his ground in front of the door with that small, anticipating grin on his grey face. Your heart ached at the sight, cooing aloud right in front of your victim before you slammed your crowbar into their skull.
That's when you realised you didn't like leaving him for hours on end. You didn't want to make him wait like that.
An idea sparked in your head when you were getting ready for your morning job. Mr. Crawling was still lying on his spot next to yours on your shared bed. You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or spacing out. Did he even need sleep?
You shrugged that thought off and quietly tip-toed your way into your living room. You switched on the TV—which you never used until now—and left the volume at a moderate level before leaving for work.
Truly enough, the sweetheart confusedly crawled over to sit at the front of the screen, watching the rom-com show that just got aired.
You smiled, leaving the monitoring app as you sipped from your favourite morning tea. You checked in on him around every five hours, and he never moved from his spot, not until you were already at your front door, though. The humanoid man seemed to hit a realization and crawled to the front door once again. It's like he already knew when you usually arrived.
He just sat there with that same thin smile on his face, waiting for your return. If he had a tail, it'd be swaying slowly. Patient and hopeful, like a dog.
You pushed the door open, and his chipper laughter rang through the air.
"You home! You home!"
He pushed a chuckle out of your lips, embracing you by the hips as you locked your front door with shaky hands due to his movement.
"Home, home," you nodded, sighing, yet you still smiled. "Hungry? Want eat?"
He giggled again, his smile practically cutting from ear to ear.
You served him his red soup—it wasn't tomatoes, but it was the chunks and blood of your victim last night.
"You enjoy?" You asked, leaning on your palm as you watched him eat. "Thing," you pointed at the TV in the nearby room. "Thing fun?"
Mr. Crawling wiped the leftover soup from his lips, pitch black tongue licking over where the blood was on his hand.
"Thing fun," he agreed. "You more fun. Many more."
You laughed. Thank goodness for all the language lessons you took on his dialect because these little gems that left his cold lips would've flown last your head.
Suddenly, Mr. Crawling paused.
"Want... try something."
"Try?" You tilted your head in confusion, and he mirrored your expression as you uttered a word in English. "More eat? Eat another?"
He giggled. "No!"
Your brows knitted together, and your lips pursed as you pondered. "Try what?"
Mr. Crawling crawled around the chabudai table, already hovering over your lap. His lips formed that same loveable (and slightly uncanny) smile. "You, me..." he gestured between you two with one hand. You nodded along, hoping to understand. "Me, you," you said.
He gestured again. "Not the same. Me, you, different. I saw other—other like you," he pointed at the TV. "Saw many like you. They say love, but they not show. Why?"
"...?" You had to process that for a second. Lengthy sentences in his language were harder to decode. "Er... um," you sighed. "They not ready? Love big, but they know small."
He watched you expectantly, so you continued.
"Uh... love big. Yes. Many meaning. Few word, few say."
"You love me?"
This was a question you got daily. It didn't hurt to answer repetively, but now that you thought of it....
Your hesitation made Mr. Crawling shrink back, his smile slowly turning into pouting.
"No no," you quickly added. "Me love you. You kind. You rescue."
He perked up, his joy bouncing right back. "Me love you!" He chirped.
You sighed, but your breath of relief didn't last long. He took you by the chin, his cold and calloused hands as gentle as he always was, and he poked his lips against yours in a brief kiss.
.
.
.
"You cute," he giggled, and you realised your face went red. "Cute, cute."
"Where did you learn to do that?" You blurted out, confusion and fluttering shyness grasping your stomach like a ruthless vine. "I mean—" you snapped out of it, seeing his confusion. "—how... how you know... do that?"
He pointed at the TV again. "Saw many like you. Say they love they, then they do!"
.
.
.
He saw people kiss?
"You—"
He kissed you again. Did it even count as a kiss? It was more like tapping lips together than a kiss.
"Cute!" He chirped and kissed you again. It didn't take much for you to know that he was pleased with your reddened cheeks and wanted to see it over and over. You counted twenty times before you stopped him, which made him frown.
"I teach," you sighed, your shyness wearing off. He practically bounced at your words. "I teach you how. My language, I call 'kiss'."
He tilted his head.
You said it again. "Kiss."
"....Ck...ck..."
"Kiss." You nodded.
"Ki...iss?"
You patted his head in approval. "Kiss."
He giggled. "Kiss! Kiss! Me kiss you!"
You couldn't help but laugh. "I teach you how. Don't move."
He didn't.
When you leaned in for a kiss, he stiffened, but he didn't move away. You held his hands and brought them to your waist, and then you held the sides of his head, pressing on.
You didn't take it too far, no—he wasn't really ready for English yet, let alone French if you know what I mean.
"....Me kiss you," you said.
It was almost as if steam was blowing out of his ears. The place around his cheeks darkened into a deeper grey, and you laughed. Before you could comment, however, he pounced at the chance to kiss you again before you changed your mind.
********
Erm so this was kinda ass LMAO
It's just practice anyway 😞 didn't proofread either so I guess that'll be my bad when I wake up tomorrow to see a bajillion of mistakes
#♡ azalea ♡#homicipher#homicipher chapter one#homicipher x reader#mr crawling#mr. crawling#mr. crawling x reader#mr crawling x you
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i can’t stop thinking about riding satoru while he’s laying down his hands behind his head and watching us with a smug face ahhhhhhh i’m pulling my hair out
a/n: i immediately turn poetic whenever i write for gojo idk why guys 💀 + combining with another request where anon sent this in and said satoru core, so real! / tagging @shotorus @hannzai @arminsumi @jabamin @hyomagiri <3
warnings: dom!satoru, fem!reader, i lay the praise on thick here n i could be projecting but idk, pet names, humping, clit stimulation, overstimulation, riding, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, brief consensual filming, n*sfw under the cut
you think that you’re not so bad on the stamina spectrum — you could hold your own against a special grade pretty easily even after getting beaten down in unexpected attacks, training with your students have kept you on your toes and alert despite your years, and satoru . .
oh, being with satoru has your stamina improving without even you knowing it. whether it’s pushing him away during tickle fights, smacking him hard on the back when he forgets about his students’ missions yet again, or letting yourself submit completely to him in the bedroom, it’s never just one round with gojo. the man was naturally fit and had his reversed cursed technique that he was basically invincible.
you? not so much, always struggling to catch up if your boyfriend wasn’t doing any of the work.
“s-satoru . . please, i need h-help,” you whine out, so so sensitive from the endless foreplay your lover had put you through for teasing him with raunchy photos. it wasn’t your fault he was gone for so long, sent to the rural parts of japan to exorcise a dormant curse — the signal was so terrible there that gojo couldn’t even text his pretty baby whom he missed so much, finally reaching his wits’ end and teleporting to a cell tower only to be met with your body stretched into suggestive poses with very little left to the imagination.
gojo swears he’s never seen beauty like yours before, like a breath of fresh air from the first time he’s got you in his arms to the photos he’s received on that cell tower. a mission has never been finished that quickly before; a teleport and one swipe of his hand, another teleport.
“you don’t want your lovely boyfriend to enjoy his time?” gojo pouts, hands spanning your ass and squeezing at the fat there. you moan at the sensation coupled with the drag of your clit along his thigh — his cock wasn’t even in you and you were already reduced to moans. “after you draped your body in baby blue and you already want to get to fucking?”
gojo has a little lilt in his voice that pisses you off because you know he wants to fuck you bad. you remember how riled up he was when he returned home three hours before, chest heaving and sweaty. you can feel the throb of his cock under you and the little noticeable shaky breaths, but making you beg, making you needy for him is his favourite pastime.
“f-fuck you, ’toru!” you stutter out, thighs burning from grinding so long into his leg that you don’t even know whether you’re cumming or not; all you know is the addicting feeling each time he tenses his thigh for you. satoru laughs, wandering hands leaving trails of fire along your skin as you gasp and grasp at his shoulders. he lets you, squeezing encouragingly at your waist and helping you just a little. a small smile spreads across his face when he feels your cunt twitch at his beautiful laugh, entrance clenching around nothing.
“soon. you’ll need to be patient,” gojo chastises, eyes flitting between watching your connected parts of smeared arousal and your expression of closed eyes and a pretty ‘o’ that catches the moonlight, “look at ’er, just so wettt . .” the sorcerer whistles at the mess you’re leaving on his leg, juices flowing so sinfully that it leaves a clear sheen of reflectiveness to it.
“c’mon baby, c’mon baby, you can cum for me, can’t you?” gojo taunts and you feel the need to answer him even when your own body is asking you to rest.
“mhmh, ’toru—” you hump his thigh harder, tugging his body closer as you settle for the most friction you can get against your puffy clit. because you’re leaking so much, the glide of your pussy is so smooth and sticky along his skin, chasing your high more and more until your words are choked out in a high-pitched moan — “satoru, satoru, s-shit . .!”
gojo coos at your unravelling, bumping his leg into your cunt repeatedly as you ride out your orgasm and by now he is hard that it hurts almost, but he’s focused on your pleasure. he licks his lips like a pervert when you tremble at the orgasm, carrying your leg over his just to see strings of your cum stick to your core and his skin, laying a light slap to your pussy just to hear the slickness.
“oi!” you call out, out of breath as you swat his hand away as he giggles and have to take a breather against your boyfriend’s chest, burying your face into his neck. but for as long as satoru have been teasing you, he hasn’t been getting any action and is desperate to just be in you, fishing his cock out from his underwear. it’s pretty as always, curved with an angry red tip that is aching to stretch you out and a vein that runs along the side of it; it slaps into your inner thigh as he pumps it with a low groan.
“can ya ride me, sweetness?” you let out a small sound of disagreement, littering kisses along his skin in hopes that he’d indulge you, but with his free hand, he’s tapping his tip against your welcoming cunt, emphasising the sheer amount of cum you were dripping with. below you, his toned chest vibrates with the moans at the warmth of your cunt, of your
“’m tired . .” you trail off, before a quiet gasp leaves you when satoru first pushes past your entrance. and though you’ve taken him so many times, his girth still surprises you to some extent, digging your forehead further into his collarbone as he pushes into your gummy walls. bit by bit, your boyfriend bottoms out in you but does anything but move and of course, it’s a ploy by the one and only. “you’re not going to fucking move, aren’t you?”
gojo makes a terrible ding! sound and snaps his fingers, prompting a glare out of you until the needy words come tumbling out of his mouth, “i want to see you ride me, baby, please.”
“weren’t you the one coming home like a sex-crazed mani— ah!” he knows he still holds control over you when he snaps his hips into you and you freeze up with a whine of his name, nails digging into the sheets and skin. “that’s cheating.” gojo simply hums, placing a kiss on your lips that you don’t reciprocate before the room falls into silence: he leans back, putting both hands behind his head before nodding at you — and because he knows it’s him, he carries the gesture with confidence with no break in his character of just how you were so goddamn tight and warm.
he grits his teeth before trying to relax, “d’you think my pretty girl can give me a show?”
obedient and defiant, you moan softly with a glower, “s-sure i can— lazyass.”
gojo knows you mean it with affection, letting out a small laugh before the moment is interrupted by the first lift of your hips. from where he is, he can see how your folds stretch for his thick cock and the lewdness of your expression, until you start a pace and the little pants that leave your lips hypnotise gojo into a trance. he watches your dazed features with a smug smile as you bounce on him, ass meeting his pelvis in loud slapping noises.
“satoru— s’full, s’big—!” mewling out, your hands switch from abs to chest to headboard, finding anything to anchor yourself to as you ride his cock that nudges all the right spots. each descent is bound to send you reeling, drool dripping from the side of your mouth with how you seem to get more and more intoxicated on his length — even when your muscles start to ache in similar places like earlier and gojo seems to break from the little humps from his hips.
“s’too much, h-hurts, ’toru . .” you whine with a pout to your voice, eyes lining with tears at the overwhelming pleasure, groping around desperately at the hand that indulges you briefly. it travels up your body, around your nape and back around, playing with your lips—
“you can do it, baby, ridin’ me so well . . s-shiiit,” gojo praises with a trembling rasp, toying with your bottom lip before grabbing your face and forcing you to look down, “you’re making me feel so, so good, sweetheart—” squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment and then back again to compose himself, “—look at how well you take my cock.” the obscene words drags even more moans from you coupled with the sight of your pussy stuffed full of your boyfriend’s pretty dick, so filled to the brim with so much cum seeping from your cunt.
your wonderment is what prompts satoru to tug you forward into a sloppy kiss, leaning back even more as you yelp into his mouth and your beauty is just what sends gojo into a frenzy. the smugness is gone, the teasing nature is gone, just grasping at pockets of air to moan out together as gojo takes the reins and slams his hips into yours. the sheer force of it sends you jerking more into his embrace, sharing a loud, pornographic moan before a multitude of profanities fall from gojo’s mouth.
“you’re just too— fuuck! too perfect, princess,” satoru whimpers, arms wrapped tightly around your middle with pelvis thrusting up into you that if it wasn’t for gojo’s strong arms, your body would be flailing everywhere -— he nibbles at the skin near your shoulder, trying his best to see where the base of his cock meets your ass in noisy, wet pap! pap! pap!’s, “pussy moulded just ta fit my fat cock, yea?”
satoru’s skin heats up when he feels you nod, babbles of “yes”’s and his name jumbled up together in drunken incoherence as he continues to impale you on his shaft. your thighs start to squeeze around his, your own hips grinding down to meet his halfway as you feel your high approaching.
“a-ain’t ya a good girl, hm?” the praise just keeps coming, whispered into your ear with hot breath fanning it and sending you in a delirious state, but gojo’s rhythmic thrust slows down as he grinds his cock into you and you tense up at the feeling of his tip against your g-spot. you jaw falls open in a silent moan, body limping into his once he abuses tha spot repeatedly in deep, deep thrusts, punctuating it in between every word—
“good. fucking. girl,” your boyfriend sounds out into your ear, a grunt between hisses at the way you clench around him, the way your pussy seems to flutter, “you. thrust. like. thrust. that. thrust. huh? thrust.”
“y—yeah, like it, love it, satoru—” you’re too far gone with these deeper thrusts before he switches back and knows you’re about to cum the hardest with the way your toes curl and uncurl. just one sneaky hand to your clit is enough to send you into mantras of his name and confessions — “love it, love you, loveyou, loveyou, ’toru” — body jerking at the overstimulation.
“that’s it . .” gojo says shakily even after he continues to ram into you, “attagirl, thaat’s my good girl.” by now, you’re reduced to nothing but a fucktoy for your boyfriend who chases his own high, proven easy by the sensation of your tight walls and the slickness of your pussy, rutting like a dog before he shoots his semen deep into you. even gojo is speechless, hips jolting into your cum-filled pussy with the need to breed: seed nestled deep into you while his weeping tip spurts out the last bits of his cum.
but gojo doesn’t pull out just yet, flipping the two of you easily and grabbing his long forgotten phone by the nightstand. gently with a smile, he pats your cheek, wakening you from your orgasm-induced slip into unconsciousness.
“baby, gonna take a vid, you okay?” you mutter out a small yes, cute little whimpers escaping your mouth when gojo slowly pulls out. “wanna spread your pretty pussy for me?” your hands obey before you even know it once you hear the start of the camera, fingers soaked with your combined juices as you spread your folds and he watches, entranced at the way your cunt pushes out his cum — and the way it seeps out of you, good lord — alongside the cockdrunk smile on your face.
satoru points the phone at your cunt, and marvels with a grin, “looks like she’s begging for more of my cum, yeah?”
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#jjk thirsts#jjk scenarios#jjk gojo x reader#jjk gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#gojou satoru smut#gojou smut#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojou x reader
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"You Should Date My Nephew"
"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.
Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.
433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.
Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.
The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.
"H'llo? Eds?"
"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.
"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"
"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.
But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.
"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.
"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."
"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."
"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.
And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.
So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.
"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.
"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.
"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.
"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."
And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.
"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.
But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.
"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.
"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.
"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.
By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.
On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?
He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.
"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.
"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.
"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.
A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.
"You should date my nephew."
Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.
"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.
"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.
"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.
"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"
"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.
"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.
"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."
"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.
"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.
"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.
"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.
Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.
"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"
Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.
"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.
"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"
"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.
"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.
"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."
And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."
#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#steve x eddie#steddie#eddie munson#wayne munson#Wayne Munson POV#steve/eddie
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ateez and corruption kinks… that’s it I just had to let that out into the void
communion
pairing: priest! yunho x nun! reader (fem)
summary: priest jeong wishes to share another communion with the most beloved member of the monastery.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: for the love of god (lol) if sacrilegious smut isn’t your thing do NOT read this,, however if it IS wellll i got something good for you <3, wine drinking, but like, in an unconventional way lmao, nasty perverted dom! yuyu, subby cock hungry! reader (can we blame her tho?), implied sex slave training, oral (giving/receiving), deepthroating, finger sucking, cum eating, implied toy usage (the toy is um….well…a religious object…)
a/n: oh nonnie idt you realize what you’ve unleashed with that ask ^^ there’s nothing i love more than corruption 🖤 physical, emotional, psychological ughhhh,,, anyways writers block and some shitty real life stuff have been taking turns beating me up the past couple months so i thought this might be a good escape for me :3 i hope you enjoy <33
p.s: i’ll be posting two more fics with a corruption theme very soonnn,, one features perverted bsf wooyoung and the other involves frat boy sannie 🫶🏼
song rec: take me to church - hozier (i mean come on….)
No matter how dark the communal church grew in the late hours of the night, the bright light of the moon still shone through the fragmented mosaic glass, now casting a myriad of gleaming crosses across your face and body as you sat on your knees upon the altar. You raised your hands up to begin worshipping your Lord in the way you were taught by Father Jeong, gingerly opening his robes to unveil the point of your focus.
Yunho lifted up a ceremonial bell and rung it once, his robes pooling around his feet, watching as your thighs squeezed tightly together underneath your heavy garments, your shaky exhale fanning over his exposed, twitching cock, finding the unyielding look of pure lust inside your eyes to be so beautiful he could shed a tear. Over the many, many communions you’ve shared together, it seemed that the bell reminded you of your loyalty to him and to your shared savior, of the pleasure you shared all in the name of God.
He pushed your veil off to expose your hair, before he placed his large hands on either side of your head, his long, slender fingers wrapping securely around it. “And, what do we say now, Sister L/N?” he asked softly, as though he were testing you, dragging his tongue over his top set of teeth, letting out a few heavy breaths.
“O’ Lord, for which I am about to receive, is truly your most precious Body and your life-giving blood, which, I pray, makes me worthy to receive for the remission of all my sins and for everlasting life,” you recited your prayer like many times before, the wetness between your thighs everlasting, watching Father Jeong let go of your head for a second to pick up a chalice of wine from the ceremony table behind him.
Yunho held the gold chalice just above his waist, growing that much harder as the dark liquid began to pour down his long, curved length, spilling off of his sticky tip and dripping into your open mouth. “The Blood of Christ…” He watched you swallow it all down, like the obedient servant you were. Something this sinful simply had to be holy, didn’t it? He swallowed down the abundant saliva that filled his mouth. “Ahh?” he voiced, like he was waiting for you to say something.
“Amen,” you sighed out, licking the remnants of wine and pre-cum from your lips, your trembling fingers clasping around his bare hips.
“Amen.”
Yunho then thrusted forward until he hit the back of your parched throat, eagerly dragging you back and forth along his sizable cock, using you like the faithful cocksleeve you were, the repetitive sounds of squelching, gagging, and muffled moaning sending delightful shivers down his spine, much like the sacred hymns did to him every morning during mass. “Sister L/N, your throat has molded to the shape of my cock, has it not? Bonding with me all these long nights, over and over, it’s like you were made for me, and only me. Tell me, Sister, does taking the Body of Christ down your throat make you feel closer to God?”
You let out a stunted, pleased moan, blinking a few tears out of your dazed, half closed eyes, watching as a blurry version of Father Jeong brought his rosary up to his lips to kiss it. Due to being trained so consistently, you knew to relax your jaw and throat in order to take all of him without fail, your gag reflex nonexistent, simply drooling all over his long, heavy cock instead, much to Yunho’s delight.
“Oh, God, let His will be done….” He hunched over slightly, in order to pound himself into the back of your throat over and over, thick strands of pre-cum and saliva dripping from your chin and landing onto your previously pristine garments, his fingers closing in around your bulging throat to feel himself moving inside it. It was simply too much for the priest to handle. “So…nnngh–sovereign, so pure, this divinity…” Yunho expressed between heavy pants, suddenly pulling out until his twitching cockhead rested against your splayed out tongue. “Sister L/N, you must show me something heavenly so that I may fill you with the Holy Spirit. Be quick, for I am at my limit…”
Licking the beads of pre-cum from his slit, you began to lift up the layers of your tunic until your bare cunt glistened underneath the moonlight that was casted over you like a spotlight, the edges of your skin glowing as though you were a real life angel, one that was sent down from above to tempt Yunho, especially now that he could see you in your most vulnerable state. “Father Jeong, please see what I’ve done for you. I’ve kept myself full…so that I may take you inside properly…”
It was then that Father Jeong fell to his knees before you, looking up at the slick heaven in between your thighs, before leaning in to lap up the abundant wetness from your lips, his hot tongue practically melting against your cunt as he ate you out like a starved man, spreading your open with his ringed thumbs. Maintaining steady eye contact with you, he slowly pulled the hood of your clit back to expose your weak point, wrapping his plush lips around it as he began to suck and lick until he had you trembling above him, your nails digging into the dense wood of the pews. “Cum before me,” he commanded, dragging his tongue along your fluttering slit up to your throbbing clit until you let out a beautifully broken cry.
You spread your trembling thighs open just enough to allow what was filling you up the entire time to slowly come sliding out, both you and the priest letting out a similar gasp once it did. A thick, slick-covered silver cross landed inside Yunho’s open palm. He watched diligently as you lifted it up to his mouth, not even having to say anything as he sucked it clean. Without exchanging words, Yunho stood back and squeezed his throbbing cock, just as you lowered yourself back down onto your knees with a loving smile, watching with pride as he began to shudder, long spurts of his hot cum landing onto your tongue and disappearing down your throat.
“What a thing of beauty….” The priest swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “You never fail to bring me close to our Savior, my dear,” he praised, reaching down to rub the remaining remnants of his seed over your swollen lips and onto your tongue with his thumb, pulling it away from your mouth and licking the last of his saltiness off of his digit himself.
“It’s all for the greater good,” you softly replied, slowly standing up and hiking up your now soiled garments, so that you could bend over the pew, spreading yourself wide, opening the gates of your heaven and giving Yunho access like every blissful night before. “Now, please allow me to bring you even closer.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
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you're my happily ever after (so i'll take my chance now, risk it all somehow)
rating: G
words: 2.6k
8x06 fix-it, because I'm pissed - I or my fics aren't going anywhere tho <3
thank you to @evansboyfrend for beta reading, ily 🫶
[also on Ao3]
It feels like the whole world is crumbling down. It feels like the Earth should shake, burst on fire, open up and swallow everything around. As dramatic as it is, he kind of expects it to happen, and it’s weird that he’s still sitting here. His ears are ringing, panic rising in his chest with each of Tommy’s words. He watches Tommy get up and head for the door, and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s not- it can’t be. It fucking can’t be. “Wait,” he finally manages to say, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “did you just break up with me?” He asks, hoping to any entity that listens that he just misinterpreted it, that he got it wrong. Because- because he can’t lose Tommy. He’s falling for him so fast and so hard. He’s ready for the next step. He’s ready to move in together. He’s ready to talk about one day, eventually, maybe getting married. He knows he wants that. He knows what he wants, and he wants Tommy. “Yeah, I guess I did.” Tommy answers, glancing back at him, his expression sad but firm. But Buck knows him. Knows that this mask will crumble into something devastated as soon as he leaves. That Tommy’s heart will shatter, just as Buck’s is right now. He can see through Tommy, he knows that he cares about Buck. It just- it doesn’t make sense. What was he even talking about… It was all so much, so fast, Buck’s brain is still scrambling trying to understand it all. “Believe me, I didn’t see-” Tommy starts, but Buck shakes his head and interrupts him. “No.” He stands up, his legs feeling shaky. Tommy fully turns towards him, confusion in his face. “What do you mean, ‘no’?” He frowns.
“I mean, no, you’re not breaking up with me.” Buck says more confidently than he feels. Because this can’t be it. The last six months, the best six months of his fucking life, can’t end like this. Can’t end at all. He won’t have this. “I know you care about me. And I care about you. And I don’t want to break up.” He sees Tommy open his mouth to speak, his expression hardening – putting on a mask again, trying to hide the hurt. He speaks again before Tommy can. “If you truly, genuinely want this, not because you think it’s gonna be better for me or you, but because you don’t want to be with me, fine, I can respect that. But I won’t accept it without a fight. I- I wanna fight for us, Tommy.” Buck steps closer to him, hoping that Tommy doesn’t step back, that might just break him. He doesn’t, he’s stuck in place, sad eyes on Buck’s. “Let me fight for us. You-” he adds quickly, on a roll now, not wanting Tommy to interrupt until after he’s done, after he’s said his piece. He needs to say it all now, let Tommy know how he feels. He can’t watch him leave without trying to fix it first. Tommy’s looking at him intently, just listening, not even trying to speak. “You gave me a second chance once, when I fucked up our first date, and I- I want to believe it wasn’t for nothing. So- so you’re my first man, so what?” Buck throws his hands up in frustration, he thinks he’s starting to sound a little frantic, speaking faster and faster. He just can’t let Tommy leave without him knowing exactly how Buck feels. “It’s far from my first relationship ever. Why- why is it so different just because you’re a man? It shouldn’t be. I don’t need to date other people, experiment or whatever else. I’ve dated people, slept around, did it all. I know how that goes, how it feels, and I don’t want to do it again. I know what I want, Tommy. And I want you. And don’t you dare tell me how I feel.” He feels anger seep in, Tommy’s words ringing in his head. What the actual fuck was he thinking? “I’m a grown man, I know how I feel. Yeah, it’s new and exciting, but it’s also real. It’s real to me, and- and if there’s any chance of forever, I want to take it. And-” he takes a breath. He feels like he’s been speaking in one breath, feeling a little lightheaded now, his heart hammering. Or maybe that’s just the panic. “And don’t start with the whole ‘I’m not your last’ bullshit.” He shakes his head again, tears welling up in his eyes, anger still building. Really, what in the world? How could Tommy want to just throw away the most wonderful relationship that’s happened to Buck in years? Maybe ever? “You don’t know that. I don’t know that. Yeah, we could break up one day. But you could also be my forever, and I could be yours. I’d love a chance to find out, even if it hurts in the end. But maybe that’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one here brave enough to risk it. And- and what about my heart, huh?” Tears are threatening to spill, his voice shaking now, with sadness and anger, and desperation. He can’t let him go, he can’t. “You said I’d break your heart eventually. But this, right now? This is you breaking mine.” He finishes, almost panting now, his monologue taking the wind out of him, wanting to say everything on his mind, in his heart. He hopes he got his point across.
“Evan.” Tommy just whispers, with a pained expression. There are tears in his eyes, too, one lone one slipping through, falling down his cheek. Buck’s hand itches to reach out and wipe it off, but he’s not sure if he’s allowed to anymore.
“Give us a chance, Tommy. Let us fight for this. Fight for me, for us. Fight with me.” He’s aware he sounds like he’s begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This is too important. “I thought it’s been so good between us lately-”
“It has!” Tommy rushes to say. “It’s been amazing. You make me so happy. That’s why I’m scared, I just- I’m sorry, Evan, but I can’t let myself get hurt like this again. Because I- I’ve been there before, and it was hard to get back up, and with you- I don’t think I’d be able to ever recover from this one.” He admits, his stone-faced facade crumbling, and Buck can see his own feelings reflected in Tommy’s expression. Sad, devastated, heartbroken.
“We can- we can take some time apart.” Buck says around a lump in his throat. He feels like he can’t breathe. All he wants is to rewind until before he dropped the moving in bomb which must be what made Tommy freak out. He could say anything else, and take it slower, and maybe they’d be on their way out right now, a date night like they planned. “If that’s what you need. A break. But not for good. And then let’s come back to it clear-headed, knowing for sure what we want. And if you still want to break up, I- I’ll respect that. But I already know what I want,” he repeats firmly, decisively. “I want a future with you. I want to move in together, and one day down the line get married, and- and I want it all with you. We can slow down if I’m rushing this. I tend to do that, and if it’s scaring you, I’m sorry.” He adds, not wanting to backtrack any of this, but aware of how intense he’s coming off. He’s never been more serious about anything in his life. “But the past six months have been the best in my life. I’ve never felt so happy, so free, so comfortable, so safe. And I’m not giving up on you, Tommy. I will fight for you until I can’t anymore, until you tell me that you don’t care about me and I should just fuck off.”
“Evan. You know I’ll never say that.” Tommy responds quietly.
“I know. Because I’m confident in us, in the fact that you do care, and you do want me. I know that.” Buck emphasizes, and realizes, not for the first time, that he never felt like this before. This secure. This confident about someone wanting him. “I also know you’re just trying to protect yourself, your heart, and I get it. But I can’t let you go without a fight. I won’t. I messed up a lot in my life, and I won’t mess up this. I refuse to. Because I-” he takes a sharp breath, the words pressing on his lips. He doesn’t want to say it for the first time in a possible break up, a moment of such anger and devastation. But he needs to put it all out there. Needs Tommy to understand how much he’s trying to throw away right now. “I love you, Tommy.” He confesses, sees Tommy’s face melt into the saddest expression Buck’s ever seen on anyone, tears spilling freely now. Both of theirs, he realizes, feeling wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve been falling for you a little bit more with each day we spend together, with each minute. And I know- I hope you feel the same. But if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t-” he swallows thickly, the thought alone is too much to bear.
“I can’t do that.” Tommy interrupts quickly. “Of course I love you, Evan. It happened so quickly it kind of scared me a little.”
“I noticed.” Buck says dryly, and Tommy lets out a humorless chuckle. “If you ask me, which you didn’t, by the way, you decided for both of us, which was an asshole move,” he points out, and Tommy looks away, as if ashamed. Good. Buck loves him, which means he’s gonna call out when he’s acting shitty. “I’d rather give us a real try and get my heart shattered if it comes to this, instead of always wondering what if, always wondering if you’re my one who got away. Which you would be.”
“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, takes a step towards Buck, now just half a step away. “I’m sorry, maybe breaking up is too hasty. Impulsive,” he scoffs at himself, probably remembering how he called Buck that just a few minutes ago. Well, so maybe they’re both a little impulsive. Not a problem, in Buck’s opinion. “I don’t- I don’t want to break up. I never want to be away from you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand flinches at his side, like he wants to reach out, grab Buck’s, touch him. Buck hopes he does. “It just- it seemed too fast. Like you got wrapped up in the moment. It’s still so new, I thought we were taking it one step at a time, and I didn’t-” he takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself, and Buck knows what he says is going to sting – and it does, it feels like a gut punch, actually, “I didn’t think you were as serious about this as I was getting. And I realize we should’ve done the mature thing and talked it out. I’m sorry. It’s just, we’ve barely talked about any future here. But I want it, of course I do. I’m just- I’m scared. My heart has never been in this much danger.” He looks into Buck’s eyes as he says it, more vulnerable than ever. This is everything Buck wants right now, for them to talk, to discuss this, to try fixing it, instead of one of them running away and the other giving up and not fighting for it. Buck’s been there, he doesn’t want a repeat.
“Tommy.” Buck is the one to close the distance between them, carefully brings his hands up to cup Tommy’s face, giving him a chance to back away, but he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes out a sigh of relief, like he craved Buck’s touch as much as Buck craves his. “You remember when I told you I wanted something with you? Even though I didn’t know what that something was yet?” he asks and Tommy nods slightly, Buck’s palms still resting on his cheeks. “I’ve been serious about you since that precise moment. About pursuing this, and wanting some kind of future with you. I know I tend to rush into things, it’s been a problem before.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I tried not to do that with you, but I failed, clearly. I just think from now on, we both should stay and talk and try to work it out if we have any issues with something. If you still want me.” He adds a little anxiously, but relaxed when he feels Tommy’s palms settle on his hips.
“Of course I want you, Evan. I always will.” Tommy says, that loving look in his eyes, that always makes Buck’s heart melt a little. That look that Buck loves so much, that made him think that Tommy might feel the same way.
“Good. Like I said, I’m not letting you go. Ever.” He says decisively, a huge weight that’s been there since the topic even started finally lifting off his chest. This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and no matter the conclusion – which he’s pretty sure will be the happily ever after he’s always craved – it’s worth the risk, it’s worth everything.
“Good.” Tommy echoes, that gorgeous, scrunchy smile of his slowly spreading on his face, and it’s like sunshine came out from behind stormy clouds. “I don’t intend on letting you go, either. I love you, sweetheart. And I’m so sorry for… for this mess. For overreacting.”
“That’s fine, we’re past this- well, actually, we are gonna talk about it more, but at least we’re on the same page now, I hope.” Buck says, slowly leaning in. “I love you so much. I never want to lose you.”
“I’m sorry.” Tommy says again, and Buck just wants him to stop saying it. It’s fine, they’re fine now. “You won’t. You have me for as long as you want. I promise.”
“What if I want you forever?” Buck whispers, his face so close to Tommy's, their lips almost brush. It sends a shiver down his spine, like he hasn’t kissed him in days, when they just exchanged a quick kiss hello a few minutes ago.
“That works for me.” Tommy smiles again, and finally dives in for a kiss, but it lasts barely a second before he’s pulling away, Buck trying to follow. Tommy chuckles, running a comforting hand up and down Buck’s side. “But maybe let’s put a pause on the whole moving in together thing, huh? At least until we fully talk everything through.”
“Yeah, good idea.” Buck nods, his gaze flickering between Tommy’s eyes, now sparkling happily, and his pretty, kissable lips. It feels so good to be able to just have a mature conversation and resolve whatever issues arise. If they keep doing that, he thinks they’re going to be okay. He’ll make sure of that. “No need to be impulsive,” he adds, his lips twisting into a teasing smirk.
“Okay.” Tommy chuckles quietly, his cheeks reddening. “Just kiss me.”
Buck doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Tommy like he means it, like he’s his person, like he’s the love of his life, trying to put all those emotions into a kiss. He knows for sure he’s getting the same intent back. And at this moment, in his kitchen, narrowly avoiding losing his love because of a stupid reason, he decides it. One day, not too quickly, but not too far into the future, he’s going to ask Tommy Kinard to marry him. And he’s more than sure of the response he’ll get.
[also on Ao3]
#bucktommy fic#fix it fic#bucktommy#wikiangela writes#911 fic#911 8x06#my writing#evan buckley#bucktommy fanfic#tommy kinard#911 fanfic#evan x tommy#buck x tommy#tevan#kinley#read on ao3#dailykinley#911 spoilers#bucktommy fluff#angst and hurt/comfort#angst and feels#bucktommy angst#not gonna tag my tag list this time bc Im exhausted and also not sure who's in the headspace for a fix-it rn#im here if anyone wants to vent or talk btw#and im not going anywhere fuck this
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it’s the easiest thing (just love me and eat me)
pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader
wc: 6.1k
anon says: nat pls speak on sub!logan...people are hating on the sub!logan agenda and someone needs to show them that they're wrong and it can be done cuz if anyone can convince them it's you mommy!
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, crimson! again! she's back!, slight angst, swearing, violence, light gore, somewhat dark content, religious symbolism? (idk this one got weird babes), established relationship, lowkey a toxic relationship but you didn't hear that from me, sub!logan-ish, handjob, p in v, slow sex turned rough, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, pain kink, scent kink, blood play, blood...eating (drinking? idk), porn with a tiny bit of plot, no use of y/n.
author’s note: anon i'm so sorry this took me so long...i hope it was worth the wait! it started as a short smutty drabble that somehow turned into…this? idk it got out of hand so fast. i am a proud member of the sub!logan nation but that's mostly because i think that ALL men have the potential for sub vibes like doesn't matter who he is if i want to fuck him he's probably a little subby. special shout out to my baby boo and fellow sub!logan truther @avocado-writing <3 tysm for sharing anon! xoxo mwah.
dividers by icon @saradika-graphics!
psst! want more logan and crimson? here's the to the bone au masterlist!
it’s not often that logan needs this, but you’re always more than happy to give it to him when he does…
The team had a big scare earlier in the day.
It was supposed to be an easy mission, bust a mutant trafficking ring in Albany. You do assignments like these every week, and as sick as it sounds, it’s almost routine.
But this one was different. It was an ambush, and you were compromised.
Only humans, but they were smart. Waited until the team split up to attack. They had tech, things you'd never seen before.
Big guns loaded with tiny darts full of an ominous red liquid.
It was your fault really. You didn't clear your surroundings, so focused on getting to the kids that you let yourself get sloppy.
The tiny sting in your back barely registered, you don't think you would have even noticed if it didn't kick in so fast.
You'd never felt anything like it before in your life.
It didn't hurt. The rush of pain you braced yourself for never coming.
The sensation was strange—like your body was shutting down, piece by piece. You fell to your knees, shaky legs folding under you in less than a second.
You felt empty, wrong. An eerie silence trickling in to fill your insides.
Panic bubbled beneath your skin, but you were too numb to feel it. Trapped in the mounting weight of your limbs, the slow blink of your eyes, the shortness of breath despite hardly moving.
Your hand slipped across the gritty cement, reaching for support that wasn't there.
That was when you saw it, the shock of it was enough for your heart to drop. Your skin, blanched and sallow, the veins in your arms black and spreading like spilled ink.
You tried to fight it, tried to will your body to move, to react, to do something. You had to get up. You had to. The kids.
As hard as you willed yourself, there was nothing. It was like your body wasn't your own, like it had become something completely foreign.
You could barely make out the tiny voices calling for you. Pleading, frantic yelps of your name fading into a dull hum as everything went hazy. The edges of your vision blurring into a narrow tunnel.
He stepped in front of you, the same one who shot you. A cynical grin on his face and collar in his hand. You'd seen collars like it before, used on mutants to muzzle their abilities, to weaken them.
You tried, fingers barely twitching by your. Nothing. Just another shock of that cold, unfamiliar feeling shooting through your body.
“Got a big one, boss.” The man boasted into a comm strapped to his wrist, his voice sharp and grating. He took a single step towards you, smug grin still stretched across his face. “Yeah, real nice lookin' one too. She'll sell for—“
A muddy roar pulsed through the molasses filled haze of your ears, six claws flying through the air to embed themselves on either side of the man's skull with a wet, stomach-churning sound.
The collar dropped from his slackened grip with a dull bang, shattering into different pieces that slid across the floor haphazardly. A mess of wires and metal.
There were rushed footsteps before he dropped to his knees in front of you, his torso bathed in a dull glow from the overhead lights yellow shine.
There was blood splattered across the side of his face, slicking the front of his suit enough to reflect light off the leather.
Logan, perched in front of you like an angel.
Not one with a golden halo and a harp, but a indescribable mess of eyes and wings looming over you calling 'be not afraid'.
You'd never seen him so shaken before. All wide-eyed and pale as he checked you over for any major injuries. His breath coming in short bursts, hands frantic and shaky as they skated along your body for the viscosity of blood or uneven shift of a break.
He refused to let you even try and walk on your own, swept you off the floor and cradled your trembling body to his chest as he called for help. The beat of his heart was fast beneath your cheek, strong enough that you could feel it even through the thick leather of his suit.
You buried your face deeper in the crook of his neck, the pit in your stomach barely warmed by the feel of him. His scent is strongest there, so much so that in a room full of spilled blood, you could only smell him.
He was careless stepping over clawed up bodies littering the floor like a messy maze of twitching limbs and entrails. You didn't even know there was more than one guard in the room.
The evidence of his love for you, of his devotion, oozing red on the concrete.
Logan didn't even give the carnage a sideways glance as he raced you outside, back to the jet.
Trusting Scott and Jean to take over getting the kids out. The unsteady murmurs he pressed to the top of your head the last thing you heard before there was nothing.
You woke up six hours later.
The sterile hum of medical equipment was the first thing you heard. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled your nostrils, and the faint pressure of a needle in your arm confirmed that you were hooked up to an IV.
Your muscles felt heavy, like someone had filled them with lead. But you were alive.
You could feel your body working overtime, fixing itself. The sickening shift of your insides falling back into place.
It took a few more moments for you to realize you weren’t alone.
A low, familiar rumble caught your attention. You turned your head to see Logan slumped in a chair by the bedside, his face buried in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His hair was mussed, his usually sharp features softened by exhaustion.
He looked different, smaller, as though the weight of what happened was pressing down on him, making him fold in on himself.
You’d seen him bloody, beaten, on the verge of death, but you’d never seen him like this–completely and utterly human.
Your throat was too dry to speak, but a small sound escaped you, and Logan's head snapped up. His eyes met yours, and in a heartbeat, he was at your side, his large hands hovering over you, unsure where to touch, like he was afraid you’d shatter under his fingers.
“You’re okay,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. His voice was hoarse, cracked with a mixture of relief and something else, something deeper. His eyes darted over your face, your arms, as if memorizing every detail just to make sure you were real.
“I'm sorry,” you managed, your voice barely more than a rasp.
Logan's eyebrows furrowed, the lines in his forehead deepening. "What the hell are you apologizing for?" His voice was gruff, but there was a tenderness beneath it. A gentleness he only reserved for you.
Your lips cracked into a weak smile. "It was my fault. I messed up."
A growl rumbled low in his chest, and you could feel the anger simmering just beneath his skin, not at you but at the situation, at whoever had dared to hurt you.
“Don’t,” he said, voice like gravel. “Don't start, none of this is on you.” His voice softened slightly as he leaned closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. “What matters is you’re here.”
The reassurance wrapped around you like a warm blanket, grounding you.
Logan’s thumb traced the line of your jaw, his touch sending a spark of warmth through your veins. “When I saw you on the floor like that…I thought—” He shook his head, jaw clenched as he forced himself to meet your gaze again. “I thought I lost you.”
Your fingers twitched slightly, managing to catch his wrist, squeezing it with what little strength you had. “I’m right here,” you said softly, voice clearer than before. “I’m okay.”
Logan’s gaze softened again as he looked down at your hand, his rough exterior cracking just a little more. He gently pried your fingers from his wrist and pressed your hand to his chest, right over his heart. “You scared the hell outta me, you know that?”
You tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a breathless huff. “Didn’t mean to.”
He shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You never do.”
You were fine an hour later.
The color of your skin had returned, glossy and like new. The hollow emptiness inside of you long gone. Your abilities passed every test Charles threw your way with flying colors.
Fully recovered and finally excused from the med-bay after Hank and Jean checked you over one last time, you were given your strict marching orders in the form of extra fluids and bed rest, no matter how much you argued that you were fine.
Your health was the last thing on your mind, just a distant phantom ache each time your eyes would find Logan.
He was still shaken up, even after all the reassurance from Charles and Hank. He kept close the rest of the day, hovering, his presence more protective than usual, but he didn’t talk much.
You could see it in the way he moved, slower, less sure, like he was carrying around something too heavy to shake off. It lingered in the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands flexed as though still looking for something to fight, to protect you from.
It wasn’t hard to guess what it was.
You hated seeing him like this, burdened by a guilt he didn’t deserve.
It gnawed at you, that heaviness. The way he started to shut down, to close himself off in the face of fear. It was the only way he knew how to cope.
After seeing him like that, bed rest was the last thing on your mind.
You knew Logan. Knew what he needed when his thoughts got tangled up like this, dragging him under. He wasn't the type to sit and talk through it, not easily anyway.
And even though you know he’d never ask for it himself, you knew what he needed—to be reminded, physically, that you were still here, still his.
Later that night, when the mansion had quieted and the others were tucked away in their rooms, you found him exactly where you thought you’d find him—in the room you shared, sitting on the edge of the bed. The yellow light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across his face, the tension in his jaw still there.
A frown tugged the corners of your mouth as you moved towards him, catching his attention with the rustle of the sheets as you sat next to him.
“Logan,” you say softly, breaking the stillness. He doesn't respond, only the slightest twitch in his shoulders indicating he even heard you. “Hey,” you try again, your voice a little firmer this time.
He turns his head just enough for you to catch the edge of his profile, the crease between his brows, weariness etched into his features.
But he still doesn't speak.
You shift, moving closer until your fingers brush his arm, the heat of his skin radiating through the fabric of his shirt. “Look at me,” you whisper, and finally, his gaze lifts to meet yours, guarded and pained. “I’m fine. I’m right here.”
Logan shakes his head, bringing a hand up to run it through his already messy hair. “You could’ve died,” he bites out, tone rough and low. “We should've never fuckin' split up. I should’ve been there faster, sooner. I should’ve–”
“Logan.” Your voice cut through his, sharper than you meant it to. You catch his hand in yours, thumb brushing against the pulse point of his wrist. “You saved me, I’m not going anywhere. I need you to hear that.”
He meets your gaze then, eyes dark with something vulnerable, something raw. He nods weakly, like he only half-believes it. You can still see the hesitation swirling through his eyes, the reluctance in the stiffness of his muscles against yours.
He needs something more than words, something to bring him back to you.
With that, you move to straddle his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs. His body stiffens under yours, his breath hitching slightly as his hands fall to your waist almost instinctively.
“Hold on,” Logan starts, tone hesitant and hands light as they hover over your hips like he’s still scared to touch you. “You heard what Hank said–”
“I’m fine,” you repeat, finality lacing your tone and leaving no room for argument. You reach down, taking his hand in yours and bringing it up to press flat directly over your heart. The very same way he did your first night together. "Can you feel me?”
The question hangs between you, soft but weighted with purpose.
Logan’s breath catches in his throat, fingers splaying wider across your chest. The heat of his palm sinks through to your skin, lighting a fire in you.
The steady beat of your heart under his touch is an undeniable reminder–alive, strong, with him. You can feel him relax, just a touch.
The tension in his muscles breaking down beneath you piece by piece as the rhythm grounds him, helps to pull him out of his spiral.
“Yeah,” he mumbles, barely audible. His eyes drop to where his hand rests, his thumb absently grazing the space just above your sternum. “I feel you.”
“Then trust it,” you murmur. “Trust me.”
A deep, slow breath escapes him, and something in his eyes softens just enough. You lean closer, your fingers trailing up his arms, over his shoulders, until they thread into the hair at the nape of his neck.
You smile softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. He sighs deeply, leaning into your touch like a dog starved of attention from its master. His grip on your waist finally tightens, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to feel that edge of need—the need to let go.
“You’ve been taking care of me all day,” you murmur, scratching your nails along his scalp softly. “Now let me take care of you.”
You feel him shudder, a weak groan escaping from his slack lips. His hazy eyes search your face, pupils blown out and seeping into the warm hazel color like an oil spill over a lake.
You tilt your head, lips grazing the stubble on his jawline, moving slowly, deliberately, until you can capture his mouth in a kiss.
It’s soft at first, gentle, but you feel him melt into it, the sharp edge of his restraint crumbling as he kisses you back with a kind of hunger that fuels you.
Logan’s hands slide up your back, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as you take control, deepening the kiss, coaxing him further into the moment.
His mouth is warm and wet and urgent against yours, the scrape of his teeth along your bottom lip sends a thrill down your spine.
His lips move over yours with a reverence that makes your chest tighten, as if each slick glide of your lips together is an apology, a promise, and a plea all rolled into one.
But you don’t want his apologies. You want his surrender.
His breath stutters in his chest when your fingers twist in his hair, tugging just enough to remind him who’s in charge tonight.
When your hand finds his chest, pushing him down gently, he goes without protest. His eyes never leave yours as he settles against the pillows, following your every movement as you crawl closer.
Climbing over him to perch on top of his thighs, you waste no time in reaching for the hem of his shirt, gently tugging on it in a silent question. Logan’s breath comes in shallow puffs as he nods, fingers twitching on your hips.
You can feel the way his chest rises and falls under the tips of your fingers, the sharp intake of air when your hands ghost across the skin of his lower stomach as you lift his shirt up and over his head.
You toss it over your shoulder carelessly, it lands with a muted thump somewhere behind you, leaving his chest bare. His muscles taut and rippling as he forces himself to stay still, the dim light plays across his skin, highlighting the contours along his torso.
You take a moment to just admire him, trailing your fingers along the familiar planes of his skin. Your touch is feather light, tracing over the spots that should be littered in scars.
The place in his shoulder where he got shot two weeks back, or where the loose shrapnel that embedded itself in his side on the last mission should be, or the skin where his shoulder meets his neck after you dug your teeth into it hard enough to bleed a few nights ago.
The way his body responds to you makes your pulse quicken—the way he finally relaxes completely under your touch, melting into the mattress.
You continue your path down, fingers slipping through the ridges of his abs, scratching your nails through the dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his bottoms teasingly. The muscles of his stomach jump under your touch, the power of his need thrumming beneath your touch.
You drag your hand over the hard length of him, his cock thick and hot as it twitches beneath your fingers. There’s a sharp hiss bleeding through grit teeth as his hips twitch up off the mattress ever so slightly.
You lean forward, hiding a small smirk in the crook of his neck. “Logan,” you whisper, voice dripping with intent, “I want you to beg for it.”
A deep, guttural growl rumbles through his chest. It shakes your body like thunder, finding a home between your thighs. Logan’s head falls back against the pillows, exposing the tan column of his throat to your hungry gaze.
It’s almost immediate, your reaction, your bodies reaction. The pulse of your blood starts to simmer with that telltale heat, slowly bubbling beneath your skin in anticipation.
Your gaze traces along where the vein of his jugular presses against his skin enticingly, barely suppressing a full body shiver at the sight.
You slip your index and middle finger beneath his waistband, brushing against his hard cock with barely any pressure. His hips buck up again, seeking more friction, but you pull back slightly, making him chase it.
“I said beg, Logan,” you murmur, your voice low, teasing, a sharp edge to it now. Your free hand comes up, gripping his jaw tightly, forcing him to look at you.
His eyes, dark and blown wide with lust, meet yours, and you can see the war raging inside him—the urge to dominate, to take control—but then he’s giving in to you, surrendering so beautifully.
“Goddamn,” he rasps quietly, his voice rough, broken. It’s barely a word, more of a growl torn from his throat. He bites it out, quiet and foreign sounding coming from his tongue. “Please, I need—”
“Good boy,” you purr, and finally, drag the soaked fabric of his bottoms down. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach lewdly.
You moan softly, deftly wrapping your fist around him loosely. Logan groans, you swear you can hear his teeth grind together at the first feeling of your touch where he wants it most.
He’s scalding to the touch, velvety skin throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Rock-hard and flushed an angry red, darkening even more the closer you get to the tip.
You keep the pace of your strokes tortuously slow, letting him feel every movement, teasing him. It’s addictive, watching the way he starts to unravel beneath you at the slightest touch.
His legs kick out against the mattress minutely, hands falling from your hips to grip the sheets as hard as he can in a failing attempt to calm himself.
You lean down, slick lips brushing against his as you speak, your voice soft but commanding. “You’re going to let me do whatever I want to you tonight, aren't you?”
Logan nods, his breath coming in quick pants, his sweaty chest rising and falling rapidly. “Yes,” he chokes out, eyes brimming with need. “Fuck, do whatever you want, baby. I’m yours.”
The usual dominance he carries like a second skin has been peeled away, leaving him vulnerable, laid out beneath you, at your mercy.
Your hand speeds up, grip tightening as you twist your wrist over his leaking tip. Your knuckles shine with pre-come, slick from the gratuitous amount of wetness steadily drooling out.
“You’re being so good for me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice soft and laced with praise. “So good, letting me take care of you like this.”
His response is a loud moan, his hips arching up off the bed, but you’re quick to press them down with your free arm, your thighs tightening around him.
“Not yet,” you warn, strength on display as you stop his movements. “You’ll come when I say.”
A strangled sound escapes him, somewhere between a growl and a whimper, and it sends a thrill through you. He’s right there, teetering on the edge, but he’s holding on—for you.
“Poor thing,” you mumble, idly pressing your thumb into his slit, gathering the precome there to spread it along the flushed crown. “So hard, so needy for me.”
“Jesus, fuck,” Logan whines, his head tipping back against the pillows a second times, eyes squeezing shut tighten enough to wrinkle the skin around them.
You smile, your nails digging into his chest as you shift, positioning yourself above him. The heat between your legs is unbearable now, slick all along your inner thighs as it pools from your aching cunt, drenching the soft cotton of your panties.
So desperate to be stretched around Logan’s cock, to be filled the only way he can. You roll your hips forward, the hard jut of his cock sliding through the sticky mess of your panties.
“Shit, baby,” he groans, loud and hoarse. “Fuck, give it to me, I’m ready–”
You press your finger to his lips, silencing him as you hover over him. “Not yet,” you whisper, a wicked grin on your face as you slide your panties to the side and take him in your hand, letting the tip brush against your soaked entrance, still not giving him what he craves.
Your own patience is starting to run thin, but the sound of his begging is too good.
“Tell me how bad you want it,” you say, your voice sharp and commanding as you rub the tip of him along your cunt, teasing. “Tell me what you need.”
He’s trembling beneath you, a soft whimper leaving his lips as you sink down slightly, barely letting him inside. "Please, darlin'," he groans, voice rough with need. "I need to feel you—need you so fuckin’ bad."
You finally give in, sinking down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion.
His body jerks beneath you, a choked growl spilling from his lips as you take him in, inch by inch. You don’t stop until he’s buried deep inside you, your walls clenching around him as you settle into his lap.
The feeling is overwhelming, the stretch, the heat, the way he fills you completely.
You both groan at the same time, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you roll your hips, savoring the way he pulses inside you, how his entire body reacts to every little movement.
“God, you’re so big,” you whisper, your voice heavy with lust as you look down at where your bodies meet. “You gonna be a good boy and let me ride you?”
“Fuck,” he grits, voice like gravel crunching underfoot.
His hands slide up your back, desperate and needy as they cradle the back of your head softly. “I’d kill them all,” he pants, lips messily searching for your own, desperate for more frantic kisses. “Fuckin’ all of them, all for you.”
You moan loud and unabashed, eyes screwing shut as your nails rake down his chest hard enough to break the skin. The smell of his blood breaks through the air, heady and sharp. He throws his head back, a broken gasp dragged out of him as his hips speed up.
You think back to the room in the warehouse, the floor slick with stray remains and viscera. Think back to him lifting you to his chest, of the blood spattered across his suit and face slipping against your own clammy skin.
Flashes of Logan running to you like a loyal livestock dog, covered in the blood of any wolf that dares attack his precious sheep. Staining the white of your wool red with the righteous wrath of his sacrifice.
You roll your hips faster, bouncing with enough force to have you crying out. The tight suction of your walls pulling him as deep as he can get at this angle.
The coarse hair along his stomach drags against your throbbing clit, making white hot sparks of pleasure zing up your spine to light up each vertebrae.
Logan presses his forehead to your chest, hot breath puffing out over your sweaty neck. You tilt your head to the side almost subconsciously, bearing more of yourself to him.
“Can’t hold back much longer,” he admits weakly, blunt nails digging into your skin sharp enough to sting. “Feels so good, so fuckin' good."
He trails off, face pinched with ecstasy as he gazes up at you. You smile, rolling your hips slowly, tiny figure eights that let you feel every inch of him pressing against your walls.
“You're not supposed to hold back," you whisper, your voice thick with need as you lean down, kissing along his jawline. "I want you to let go, Logan."
His eyes snap open, the hazel gone wild and desperate, and it’s like you can see the exact moment he breaks. The tiniest shred of self control finally crumbling under the weight of his instincts. With a low, feral growl, he surges up.
You’re on your back quicker than you can blink, stomach surging with it. You hardly have any time to react, Logan punching all the air out of your lungs as he sets a brutal pace.
The sudden intensity has you gasping, your body jolting as he takes over, fucking you like his life depends on it.
Each thrust is hard and deep, hitting the spot inside of you, over and over again until you’re a trembling mess above him, moaning his name, your nails digging into his chest.
Logan’s grip on you is ironclad, pulling you back onto him harder, faster, his breaths coming out in ragged pants as he loses himself completely in the heat of your body.
"That's it," you pant, feeling the way your body tightens around him, the tension building deep inside you. "Fuck, Logan, just like that—"
He growls again, the sound vibrating through his chest as he slams into you harder, his pace relentless. You can feel the sweat slick between your bodies, hear the wet, filthy sounds of your bodies coming together as his control snaps completely.
“Mine,” he growls between thrusts, voice low and rough as he pounds into you, his eyes locked on yours, full of possessive need. "All fuckin’ mine."
Your body responds to his words, tightening around him as your orgasm builds, every nerve in your body on fire. "Yes," you gasp, your voice barely more than a broken moan as he hits that perfect spot again and again. "Yours—only yours."
Slowly, deliberately, you bring your hand to your mouth, biting down on the pad of your thumb hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.
The scent of iron fills the space between you, mixing with the musk of sex and sweat. Logan’s nostrils flare as he takes in the scent, his pupils dilating further, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
You raise your thumb to his mouth, sliding it along his bottom lip to leave behind a thin trail of red. “Suck,” you whisper softly, pressing your thumb into his mouth ever so slightly.
And he does, without hesitation.
Logan’s lips part, and he pulls your thumb into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the taste of your blood. The look in his eyes as he does sends a wave of heat crashing through you.
The pure devotion of the act thickening the air around you to coil the spring of pleasure winding in your lower stomach tighter.
You groan, your own restraint folding like a house of cards as you drag your nose down the column of his throat, stopping right at the base. You press a quick kiss over the rapid fluttering of his pulse before you bite down, hard.
Logan keens around your thumb, teeth digging into your skin roughly as his blood floods your mouth.
You get lost in it, the familiar taste of him seeping onto your tongue as his cock jerks and pulses in your clenching cunt. Getting lost in the way you can feel the rhythm of his heart against your lips, each strong beat sending more blood pumping out to leak along your taste buds.
You press your chest to his, not leaving an inch of space between you. It’s still not enough, it will never be enough.
You need more, so much more.
You want to encompass him completely, to be encompassed by him.
You want to dig your hands into his skin–to peel back each layer of flesh and fat and muscle, snap each of his ribs back so you can bury yourself in the cavity of his chest before you bend them back into place. Burrowing yourself deep enough inside him to watch him heal all around you, to watch his skin stitch itself back together.
It’s a sick feeling, the need to take and take until he has no more left to give. Sick and all consuming, lighting you up like the raging flames of a forest fire that destroys everything in its path.
When you finally pull your hand away from his mouth, he lets out a breathless moan, and you lean down to press your lips against his in a bruising kiss.
The coppery tang of your blood lingers between you, mixing with Logan’s as your teeth clash together violently, as you devour him, pouring every ounce of your control into the kiss.
You press your palm to his chest, powers surging to life over his heart. You don't need to open your eyes to see what you leave behind, the red and blue pulse of his blood lighting up beneath his skin like the neon sign hanging outside his favorite bar.
Logan moans into your mouth, tongue dragging along the point of your canines. "Don't stop," he pleads, “Please, baby, don’t fuckin’ stop.”
You can feel the energy coursing between you, a tangible thing that's threading itself between your fingers. It’s intoxicating, a connection deeper than flesh, a binding of souls fueled by blood and lust. You lean into the heat radiating from him, urging your energy to flow freely, wrapping it around his heart like a warm embrace.
“Logan,” you whisper breathily, breaking the kiss just enough to look into his wild, pleading eyes. “You feel that? You and me, we’re connected.”
“I feel it, honey,” he groans, bucking his hips, forcing you to take him deeper. “You’re everywhere. It’s all I can think about all the goddamn time, drives me fuckin’ crazy.” His words tumble from his lips, raw and unfiltered, sending another thrill of desire through you.
You whine, head tipping back to the ceiling. Drunk of the feeling of him, of his cock, of his blood on your teeth.
You've come to think that being in bed with Logan is like being in church.
There's a holiness to the way he holds you—like you’re the only thing worth believing in.
The familiar weight of his body pressing you into the mattress is the alter. The heat of him like laying in the burning flame of a candle. The strong planes of his muscles each a different scripture that you take in by touch alone, skating your hands over his skin with something close to worship.
Each bead of sweat on his skin feels sacred, a testament to the intensity between you, as though every part of him has been crafted for this moment of devotion.
The hard length of his cock carves a place for itself inside you, each heavy smack of his hips punching another desperate sound out of your slack lips.
His breath, deep and ragged, is a chant that pulls you into reverence. It puffs against the wild beat of your pulse, his lips brushing over the fever hot plane of your skin.
The sound of your name falling from his mouth sounds like a prayer answered.
You can’t help but close your eyes, not in exhaustion, but in a kind of spiritual surrender, like by shutting out the world, you can truly grasp the divinity of it. His blood, mixing with yours on your tongue feels like a sacrament—an unholy communion.
The air between you crackles with heat, your bodies moving together in perfect sync, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Logan’s head tilts back, his mouth open in a silent scream as he claws at your hips, pulling you down harder, deeper.
“I’m close,” he groans, his voice strained, desperate. “Please—fuck—I need to—”
You reach up quickly, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at you. “Look at me when you fuck me,” you demand, your voice sharp, dripping with authority. “I want you to watch me when you come.”
That’s all it takes.
Logan’s entire body goes taut, a strangled roar tearing from his throat as he buries himself inside you one last time, the force of his release crashing through him. The hot spray of his come floods your insides, drenching your walls in thick spurts of white.
His hands grip you so tightly you’re sure there’ll be bruises blooming later, but you don’t care. You wish they wouldn’t fade. You want them. You want to wear his mark, to feel the evidence of this moment lingering on your skin long after it’s over.
His hips don’t stop even as he comes, a sharp cry ripping its way from his throat as he keeps fucking you, pumping you full of him like he can’t stop.
When you feel him start to lose control like that, feel the frantic twitch of his cock inside you, you finally let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. The force of it rips a scream from your throat as you clench around him, your body spasming with the intensity of it.
Your abused cunt gushes around his cock to seep into the mattress, soaking both the sheets and his lower body all at once as you let out a weak mutter of his name.
For a moment, the only sound in the room is the ragged, uneven breathing between you as you both come down from the high. Logan collapses on the bed, arms circling your waist to drag you along with him. His cock stays inside of you, plugging you full of his come.
Your body trembles with the aftershocks of your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.
Logan is warm and grounding under you, soft and lax. You can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady beneath your cheek, and you press a soft kiss to the skin there, a silent reminder.
His hand comes up to thread through your hair, his touch gentle now, his body relaxed in a way that it wasn’t before.
“I love you,” he whispers against the crown of your head, his voice soft, vulnerable in a way that makes your heartache.
You smile, soft and secretive in the valley of his pecs, “I love you too.”
It’s a quiet admission, the first time you’ve ever said that to each other with words. The first time you both felt the need to, because it’s nothing you didn’t already know.
Your blood dripping from his teeth lays the same claim over you as his come dripping down your thighs.
It means you're his, and he’s yours.
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#— 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ♡#ᯓ★ 𝐧𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞!#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words#to the bone au#file: crimson#this was so fun omg#i love writing angst#sub!logan NATION 💜#hope you love it!#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine fic#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine imagine#wolverine smut#x men x reader#x men x you#x men smut#marvel x reader#marvel x you#marvel smut#mcu x reader#mcu x you#mcu smut
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𖧷 crybaby
— synopsis: seungcheol can’t help but be a crybaby every time you break his heart, yet he always comes running back to you, desperate for your attention. even when you leave him cold for days or push him away, he can’t seem to stay away. his friends and family don’t get it—they hate how you treat him.
— WC: 4.6k — WARNINGS: agnst, smut, emotionallly detached!reader, emotionally attached!seungcheol, crying, he kind of pisses his friends and family out because of his whiny ass, explicit language, blowjob, cock riding, clit stimulation, face slapping, choking. — inspired by: cry baby by megan thee stallion — ''his friends and his dad hate me, I broke his lil' heart, he's a crybaby"
seungcheol was such a fucking crybaby. like, how does a man that big, that beefy, built like he could crush a watermelon between his thighs, have the emotional resilience of a damp tissue? 5′10 of pure gym dedication and somehow, here he was, sulking like a kicked puppy in the corner of his own damn birthday party. honestly, you broke his heart so many times you’d lost count, but the man was like a boomerang—always came back. didn’t matter how hard you threw him.
his friends absolutely hated you. well, maybe hate was strong—more like they hated how he acted because of you. jeonghan said you lived rent-free in his head, which you knew was true. but the real kicker was his family. they couldn’t stand hearing your name. apparently, he cried into his whiskey glass over you at his last family dinner. like, straight-up sniffles and shaky voice in front of his dad. the boys’ nights weren’t any better; they’d barely crack open a soju bottle before seungcheol was teary-eyed, rambling about you like you were the love of his life and not the emotional hurricane you were.
but that’s the thing, though. seungcheol was built for family. the whole package—white picket fence, Sunday brunches, PTA meetings. meanwhile, you were emotionally unavailable as fuck. couldn’t even commit to a favorite boba flavor, let alone a relationship. and now, you’d ghosted him for a week. a whole-ass week. no texts, no calls, not even the stupid memes you usually sent him at 3 a.m.
today was his birthday. his fucking birthday.
the party at his place was in full swing—laughter, good food, good drinks, jeonghan and mingyu lowkey roasting him about his “girlfriend” (air quotes and all). his parents were there too, of course. his brother had even flown in. but cheol barely moved from the couch all night. just sat there, one arm slung over the backrest, looking at his phone like a guy waiting for a miracle.
because in his head, if you were his girlfriend—like, properly his—you’d be here. with him. celebrating, holding his hand, maybe sitting in his lap. but instead, he got radio silence.
“bro, seriously, what the fuck is your problem?” jeonghan hissed, leaning over the couch to snatch the beer from cheol’s hand. “your mom’s asking why you look like you’re about to cry into the birthday cake.”
“i’m fine,” cheol muttered, but even he didn’t sound convinced.
“no, you’re not. you’ve checked your phone like a hundred times, and it’s giving ‘sad loser.’ cut it out before mingyu makes a meme out of you.”
but cheol didn’t cut it out. he just stared at the screen, lips pulled into a pout so tragic it could’ve been a fucking Greek play. the hours dragged. one by one, people started leaving, and eventually, it wasn’t even his birthday anymore.
august 9th. 9:54 p.m.
cheol sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking like he was about to combust.
and then, his phone buzzed.
one message.
from: future girlfriend ❤️ - “come over.”
that’s it. two words, no explanation. cheol shot up from the couch so fast he nearly knocked over the coffee table.
jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “where the hell are you going?”
cheol didn’t answer. he was already grabbing his keys, muttering something about how he’d “she texted me.”
he hard his friend groan out in defeat, disappointment, some even surprised that seungcheol would leave his own party like that.
while you were still just chilling at your place, sitting there like nothing had happened, waiting to see if this man who you’d left on read for a week would actually show up.
spoiler alert—he would.
the door wasn’t even locked—like you’d left it wide open for him, knowing he’d come running the second you told him to. seungcheol stepped inside your apartment, and it was so you in a way that made his chest tighten. that familiar scent? god, it was everywhere. in the air, clinging to the couch, the walls, probably gonna soak into his clothes and stay there for days, torturing him. like you’d marked your territory without even trying.
he moved on autopilot, his feet carrying him down the hallway to your bedroom like he didn’t even need directions. the door was cracked open, and he froze for a second when he saw you.
you were standing there, slipping a sheer robe over your shoulders—transparent. and it wasn’t doing a damn thing to hide you. the way the fabric barely skimmed over your hips, nipples peeking through, leading his eyes all the way down to the hem that just teased your thighs… it was insane.
you turned your head slightly, catching him in the doorway like some kind of lost puppy. your expression was unreadable, but he looked at you like you were magic or something—eyes wide, lips slightly parted. pathetic.
you stepped toward him, and before he could even process it, his hands moved to your waist like they belonged there. your arms looped lazily around his neck, and the warmth of your skin had his breath hitching. you glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall—10:01 p.m.—then met his gaze, your lips curling.
“happy birthday… birthday boy,” you said, your voice smooth as velvet.
he exhaled shakily, his eyes fluttering shut like the sound of your voice was too much. his brows knit together in that pitiful little frown you’d missed more than you cared to admit.
“why’d you leave me like that?” he muttered, voice cracking slightly. “did… did i do something? i’m sorry, i—”
you didn’t answer, didn’t even flinch, because honestly? you didn’t have a reason. there was no deep, dark explanation, no hidden agenda. you just did.
instead, you pushed him backward toward the bed, your hands firm on his chest. he stumbled slightly but kept talking, his voice climbing higher in pitch.
“please, just—just tell me. what did i do? i can fix it, i swear, just—”
you pushed him harder this time, and he landed on the bed with a bounce. he stared up at you, eyes glassy, lips trembling. “answer me,” he whined, his voice soft and desperate.
“shhh,” you hushed, pressing a finger to his lips.
he whimpered at the touch, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “why—why won’t you just—”
your hand came down on his cheek in a sharp slap. not too hard, but enough to make him moan, his mouth falling open in a perfect little “o.”
“quiet,” you said firmly, watching as his expression shifted. the sting seemed to zap the fight out of him, his mouth closing into a pout as his tears spilled over.
“aww,” you cooed, leaning down to brush your thumb under his eye. “don’t cry, birthday boy. let me give you a gift.”
his gaze flickered immesiately. a gift? he nodded eagerly.
“you gonna be good for me?” you asked, tilting your head.
“y-yeah,” he stammered, his voice so small it made you smile.
your hands moving to his belt. the way he watched you, like you were about to destroy his dignity, was almost comical.
you tugged his pants and underwear down in with a graceful sweep, leaving him bare and exposed. his cock was already rock hard, flushed red and leaking precum that smeared against his stomach.
“look at you,” you teased, wrapping a hand around the base. his breath hitched at the contact, his hips jerking slightly. “crying all over yourself, huh?”
he let out a choked whimper, his hands fisting the sheets beside him. “i—i can’t help it,” he whispered.
“poor baby,” you mocked, your thumb swiping over the tip to collect the sticky wetness. his whole body twitched at the motion, his eyes squeezing shut as more tears slipped down his cheeks.
you leaned down, letting your lips hover just above him. “you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? never let you have it before, but tonight… you’re special.”
he nodded frantically, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “please,” he begged, his voice breaking.
you smiled, finally taking him into your mouth. the heat and wetness made him sob outright, his hands flying to your hair but stopping short—like he was scared to touch you without permission.
“oh—fuck, fuck, fuck,” he babbled, his thighs trembling as you worked him over. your tongue dragged along the veins as your hand played with his balls, and he keened, his head falling back against the pillows.
“so good,” he choked out, tears streaming down his face. “m-missed you.”
you hummed around him, and the vibrations nearly sent him over the edge. his whole body tensed, his hips bucking slightly as he moaned your name.
“gonna be good for me?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.
“y-yes,” he stammered, his eyes glassy and desperate. “so good, i’ll be so good, please—”
“then take it,” you said, and he did.
your tongue swirled around the swollen tip of his cock, drawing a shuddering breath out of him that turned into a whimper when you pulled back slightly, letting a string of spit connect your lips to his flushed skin. his chest heaved, his abs clenching under the weight of your stare.
you fold your tongue up and slid along the underside of his length, like you had all the time in the world. his thighs trembled as you worked your way down, your nails scratching lightly along the sides of his hips, keeping him still. by the time you reached his base, his whole body was taut, his hands fisted so tightly into the sheets you thought he might rip them.
“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, letting your breath ghost over his skin.
“i can’t—” he choked, cutting himself off with a high-pitched moan when your tongue flicked over the soft skin of his balls.
you smiled against him, pressing a kiss to one of the heavy globes before taking it into your mouth, sucking gently. his hips jerked off the bed, but your hand pressed firmly against his stomach, pinning him down.
“stay still,” you ordered.
“i’m trying—fuck, i’m trying,” he babbled, his voice cracking. his head lolled to the side, his lips parted in a silent cry as you continued to suck and lick at him, your tongue tracing slow, wet circles.
your free hand moved back to his cock, wrapping around the shaft and stroking it slowly, your thumb smearing the precum that was steadily leaking from the tip.
“look at me,” you said, your voice softer this time.
his eyes fluttered open, glassy and red-rimmed, his gaze locking onto yours. the sight of you, lips wrapped around him, your hand working him in tandem, had him letting out a desperate, broken sound that went straight to your core.
“you like this?” you asked, pulling back slightly, your hand still stroking him as you kissed along his inner thigh.
“yes,” he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “fuck, yes. feels so good.”
“yeah?” you teased, your lips quirking into a smirk as you nipped at his skin. “you’ve been waiting for this? waiting for me to touch you like this?”
he nodded frantically, “always,” he admitted. “always wanted you like this. please don’t stop.”
you purred, letting your tongue glide back up to his base before taking him into your mouth again, this time deeper, letting him feel the heat of your throat. “fuck—oh my god,” he sobbed, his hands twitching at his sides, like he wanted to touch you but didn’t dare.
“go on,” you encouraged, pulling off just enough to speak. “touch me. you’re being good, aren’t you?”
his hands immediately flew to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he let out another choked moan. “yes,” he breathed, “yes, so good, i’ll be so good for you.”
you hollowed your cheeks, bobbing your head slowly, your hand working in time with your movements. his thighs shook beneath you, his breath hitching every time your tongue pressed against the sensitive vein running along the underside of his cock.
“you’re so fucking pretty like this,” you said, pulling back just enough to let your spit-coated hand continue stroking him. “all flushed and crying for me. does it feel that good?”
“so good!” he gasped, tears spilling over again as he bucked his hips involuntarily.
you hummed in approval, your tongue flicking over the tip before dipping lower again, taking one of his balls into your mouth once more. the way his entire body shook beneath you, his voice breaking into desperate little cries—it was everything.
“you’re mine,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin. “aren’t you?”
“yours!” he sobbed, his voice cracking. “all yours...”
you pulled back, your lips slick with spit and precum, watching as seungcheol’s chest heaved like he’d just run a marathon. his head was tilted back against the pillows, mouth slightly open, a trail of drool glistening at the corner of his lips. his cock twitched in your hand, still throbbing and leaking like it couldn’t survive a second without you.
“cheol,” you said, your voice sharp enough to cut through the haze.
he didn’t answer. his eyes were half-lidded, rolling back as another pathetic whimper slipped past his lips.
“yah,” you hissed, your free hand moving down to cup his balls, squeezing them just enough to snap him out of it.
he jerked, his hips twitching as a choked cry tore from his throat. his wide, glassy eyes met yours, full of confusion, like he wasn’t sure whether to apologize or beg for more.
“you listening now?” you asked, your tone playful but firm.
“y-yeah,” he stammered.
you smirked, leaning forward just enough to let your breath fan over his cock. “good. now, tell me—do you want me to make you cum like this?” your hand gave his length a slow, deliberate stroke, watching as his eyes fluttered shut again. “or do you want me to ride you?”
his eyes snapped open at the second option, but he still didn’t answer. his mouth opened and closed like he was trying to speak but couldn’t get the words out, and you swore he looked like a little kid trying to pick between candy flavors.
“cheol,” you said again, your grip on his balls tightening just enough to make him yelp. “i’m not giving you both, so choose. now.”
he whimpered, his lower lip trembling as he looked at you like you were some kind of goddess and he didn’t want to disappoint.
“i—i want…” he trailed off, his voice cracking as his cock twitched in your hand again.
“come on,” you urged. “use your words, birthday boy.”
his cheeks flushed deeper, and he swallowed hard before finally stammering out, “i want you to ride me.”
“do you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as your hand gave him one last teasing stroke.
“mhmm,” he breathed, his voice shaky but certain. “please. want to feel you. need to—need to be close to you.”
you smiled, your chest swelling. “good boy,” you murmured, releasing him completely and watching as he whimpered at the cut-off.
you climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips as his hands immediately flew to your thighs, gripping them like he was scared you’d disappear—again. the way his eyes roamed over your body, taking in every inch of exposed skin through the transparency of the robe, and the big slit that have been created as the robe opened up, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.
you reached between your legs, guiding his cock to your entrance, letting the tip tease your folds just enough to have him squirming beneath you.
“mm..fuck” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “you’re so wet. is that—fuck, is that for me?”
“all for you,” you lied, he knew you were mocking him as you slowly sank down onto him.
the stretch was so good, never fails to make you arch your back, his cock filled you so perfectly had your breath hitching. but the sound he made was way down pathetic. it was half moan, half sob, like he couldn’t believe this was real.
“oh my god,” he choked, his hands flying to your waist as his hips jerked involuntarily. “you’re so—so tight. best birthday gift ever.”
you rolled your hips slowly, letting him feel every inch of your gummy walls, and his grip tightened, you can feel his strong fingers marking your meat.
“you like being used like this?”
“yes!” he gasped, his voice high and broken. “love it. love you.”
you froze for half a second, the words catching you off guard, but you quickly recovered, your lips curling into a smirk. “that so?”
“yeah,” he breathed, his eyes squeezing shut as you started to move again. “fuck, i love you. love everything about you.”
every roll of your hips, pulled more sounds from him than you thought possible—moans, gasps, sobs, all spilling from his lips like a declaration.
your hips moved in a steady rhythm, dragging his cock in and out of you in a way that made your thighs burn, but the way seungcheol looked at you—like you were the fucking universe—made it impossible to stop. you clenched around him, squeezing tightly, and his mouth fell open, a strained whimper spilling out as his fingers dug into your hips as you rocked your pussy back and forth.
you pushed his shirt up higher, your eyes falling on his chest, where his nipples were flushed a deep red against his tan skin. his brows furrowed in confusion when he noticed your gaze.
“what?” he asked, his voice hoarse and breathless.
“you don’t even know, do you?” you teased, your nails trailing up his chest. “how red they get when you’re about to cum?”
“what?” he repeated, his tone higher this time, all embarassed.
“oh, baby,” you cooed, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re so fucking cute.”
his face flushed even deeper, and you felt his cock twitch inside you as your hands wrapped around his neck. his eyes widened immediately, his breath hitching as he stared up at you, his lips parted in surprise.
“you like this?” you asked, your grip tightening just enough to make his pulse race beneath your fingers.
he let out a strangled moan, his hands flying up to your thighs like he didn’t know whether to stop you or hold on tighter. “y-yeah,” he stammered, his voice cracking. “fuck, yeah.”
“then be good for me, cum for me, cheol. now.”
his entire body tensed, his hips jerking up. you clenched around him again, your grip on his neck firm as you ground down harder as the first waves of your orgasm hit you.
you raised your hips just in time, letting his cock slip out of you as he spilled all over his stomach, ropes of cum painting his skin. his head fell back against the pillows, his chest heaving as he let out a broken sob, his hands trembling against your thighs.
you collapsed onto his chest, your hand moving between your legs to circle your clit frantically, your moans muffled against his ear as you chased the last remnants of your own orgasm.
“oh my fucking god...” you panted, your fingers working faster as your hips ground against his thigh.
he turned his head slightly, his eyes hazy as he watched you, his lips parted in awe. “you’re…so beautiful...”
you moaned loudly as your orgasm hit you, your body shaking against his as you buried your face in his neck, your hand slowing to a stop.
as the high ebbed away, your body melted into his, your limbs heavy and your breath evening out. you let your full weight settle on him, and he groaned softly, the sound less of discomfort and more of deep, satisfied contentment. his arms came around you instinctively, holding you close, his hands splayed wide against your back like he never wanted to let go.
you lay there, your cheek pressed to his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. you tried to ignore how your own heart raced, guilt creeping in as you replayed the last week in your head.
sometimes, you really felt like shit about the way you treated him. seungcheol was too good for you, with that big heart of his—always giving, always forgiving. the problem wasn’t him. it was you.
you hoped he couldn’t feel the way your heart thudded against his chest, the weight of your remorse making it beat faster.
you lifted your head slightly, pressing soft kisses to his cheek, your fingers tangling in his hair as you gently scratched at his scalp. he sighed, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing keeping him tethered.
“cheol,” you murmured, your voice softer than you planned. “can i give you one more gift tonight?”
he didn’t answer right away. his eyes drifted to the ceiling, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“only one?” he asked after a moment.
you hummed, matching his teasing tone. “yeah. just one. better make it count, birthday boy.”
he chuckled softly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. instead, his gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your back.
“i don’t think you can give me what i really want...” he said finally.
you tilted your head, your brows furrowing. “what do you mean?”
he hesitated before he turned his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours.
“i want to be here with you... but knowing that you… that you actually like me back.”
he held your gaze, his eyes raw and vulnerable, waiting for a response that you didn’t know how to give.
“cheol, you know that right now i—” you started, your voice cracking.
but he shook his head, his lips curving into a small, sad smile. “it’s okay,” he said quickly, though the way his arms tightened around you betrayed his words. “i didn’t mean to ruin the moment. i just… i had to say it.”
you didn’t know what to say. guilt churned in your stomach, your heart pounding against his chest as his words echoed in your head.
he deserved so much more than you could give, and yet here he was, holding you like you were his whole world.
seungcheol let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against the curve of your spine. “but since that won’t happen…” he trailed off, his voice wistful.
your chest tightened, the words striking a nerve you weren’t ready to deal with. you stayed silent, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, hoping he couldn’t see the way your brows knitted together.
“can you…” he hesitated, his fingers twitching against your skin. “can you come to my birthday party tonight? i know it’s late, but it’s probably still going. i’d love to see you there.”
you froze. you knew what he was asking—he wanted you to show up for him, to step into his world, even if it made you uncomfortable.
“cheol,” you said slowly, lifting your head to look at him. his expression was expectant.
“please,” he added, whispering in an almost pityful way. “just for a little while. it’s my birthday.”
you bit your lip, glancing away. the idea of walking into a room full of people who probably hated you wasn’t exactly appealing, but the way he looked at you, made it hard to say no.
“fine,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.
“really?” he asked, his face lighting up instantly.
“yeah, really,” you said, rolling your eyes.
he sat up, pulling you with him.
you groaned, pushing against his chest. “ugh, fine. let me get ready, then.”
he followed you into the bathroom like a puppy, leaning against the doorway as you washed your face and fixed your hair. his gaze was soft, trailing over you like he was memorizing every detail.
“stop staring,” you said, your tone sharp but lacking any real bite.
“can’t help it,” he replied, his voice warm. “you’re gorgeous.”
you rolled your eyes again, but your cheeks flushed anyway, and you hated how easily he got to you.
“you should get ready too,” you said, pointing at him with a toothbrush in hand.
“i’m fine like this,” he said with a shrug, gesturing to his wrinkled shirt and jeans.
“you’re not showing up to your own party looking like you just got laid,” you shot back, smirking when his ears turned red.
“fine,” he grumbled, shuffling off.
by the time you were both dressed and ready, the nerves in your stomach were in full swing. seungcheol, however, looked ridiculously pleased with himself, his hand finding yours as he led you toward the door.
seungcheol practically vibrated with happiness as he led you up to the front door of his house. he tried so damn hard to play it cool, to keep his steps measured and his grin from stretching too wide. but his chest felt like it might burst at any moment, the thought of walking in with you by his side enough to make him wanna jump like some kind of elf in a fairytale.
this was it. you were here. about to meet his family, his friends. his whole world.
he took a deep breath and opened the door, immediately met with a chorus of voices.
“finally!” jeonghan shouted, throwing his arms up like he’d been waiting for years.
“where the hell have you been?” his brother added exasperatedly.
seungcheol pressed his lips together, holding back a smile as he glanced over his shoulder at you. “i, uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down for a second before looking back up, his voice soft but proud. “i needed to bring someone special before the ‘happy birthday.’”
the room fell silent as you stepped out from behind him, your hands clutching the straps of your bag like a lifeline. your small, tentative smile was enough to stop everyone in their tracks.
you shifted awkwardly under the weight of their stares, the sound of the music thumping softly in the background the only thing filling the silence.
and that’s when it hit them.
oh.
this was the reason seungcheol had been acting so out of character, the reason he’d been spiraling for months. you weren’t just some girl he was into. no, you were a fucking vision. gorgeous in a way that made the room seem brighter. mesmerizing without even trying.
now they understood. now it all made sense.
of course he was crazy over you. of course he’d been spiraling. who wouldn’t be?
but the realization also came with a quieter, more awkward truth: this was the girl they’d all cursed out in private. the girl they’d ranted about after every drunken night where seungcheol had cried into his beer or disappeared to avoid them.
they exchanged quick glances. yeah, they got it now, but it didn’t erase the fact that they’d judged you before even meeting you.
a nagging question none of them dared to voice but couldn’t shake.
were you really worth it?
jeonghan, the one who never held his tongue, raised a brow and smirked. “well, shit. now i get it.”
seungcheol’s face flushed a deep red, his hand instinctively finding the small of your back as if to shield you from the inevitable onslaught of teasing.
but instead of cracking a joke, jeonghan just smiled and nodded, his eyes softening. “welcome,” he said, his voice genuine.
the others slowly followed suit, their smiles tentative but warm as they tried to mask their lingering curiosity.
and as seungcheol led you further into the house, his hand never leaving your back, he felt like he’d just won the lottery. because for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t walking into this house feeling defeated or embarrassed.
this time, he was walking in with you.
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#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen headcanons#svt imagines#seventeen#seventeen smut#svt smut#seungcheol smut#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x angst#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x y/n#scoups x y/n#scoups smut#scoups#scoups x you#scoups x reader#scoups angst#scoups imagines#choi seungcheol#seungcheol#svt scoups#svt
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HAPPY VALENTINE DAY DADDY ! and to you guys too <3 this real self indulgent yall know this my baby
everyone knew that mr.yeager was a big flirt. he exuded sexual tension making ladies, - and men cower under his intense stare. you knew this even before you started dating him. news articles of the model playboy and how everyone was quick to fall to their knees for him, but that still did nothing to stop the desire. you and eren getting together was shocking, you not usually being his normal type but everyone could tell how deep in love he was in. he had you on his arm at any giving moment, flashing you and trying to get you on campaigns he knew he would be doing.
you were his everything. but even in that the man couldn’t contain how just naturally flirty he was. smiling in other women’s faces, while you sat pretty with a necklaces that had his initials around your neck. you burned holes into his large form, shaking you head and downing the glass of champagne storming out. of course the news made headlines, and of course eren followed you. asking what could he have possibly done wrong? and you told him, screaming out how he did it so carelessly that he just had to show the world you were his.
“r-rennieeee f-fuck baby!” you legs shook against his neck. his mouth devouring your pussy, slurping- licking- plunging his pierced tounge into your hole shocking you. the camera shook in your hands shakily capturing everything that was happening. “come’on mama” he slapped your thigh green eyes burning into you. “stop shaking - mmm. and show them that daddies all yours” his words had you crying out. your hole gushing with your orgasm throwing your head back against the expensive pillows and closing his head in. “wait wait waittttuhh” opening your legs and pushing his head away. the camera was now somewhere lying on the bed.
grabbing it himself. he put your legs over his broad shoulders, cock sliding up and down you fat pussy lips before sliding into you smoothly. thick, long cock sliding through your slippery walls slowly until the tip touched one spot in you. “n-no daddyy! toom-muchh” rising the camera to be above you. it got see all over your faces of pleasure. your tits bouncing with each impactful thrust. his cock going in and out, cream patches painting it’s tan - veiny skin driving him wild. “w-whos dick is that princess?”
he bit his lip watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. your pushed as his six pack your orgasm just a the peek. eren only pushed into you deeper. “WHOS?” he now yelled, looking at you through the view or the camera. “y-YOURSSS” you screamed squirting everywhere. your heart beat vastly legs quivering. “that’s right” he spoke lazily. his thrust got fast but slow - he was so close, and by the heavyness in his balls eren knew tonight you were gonna be giving him his child. his stuffed your cunt to the brim. making you hold your legs in the air so no cum could fall out. he made your shaky hands send the video to each women who made you feel insecure your relationship. he ignored the buzzes from his instagram kissing your soft skin while you both drifted off.
#— writings!#eren x black fem!reader#eren x black reader#eren smut#eren x chubby reader#eren yaeger x reader#eren yaeger smut#eren yeager smut#eren yeager x black reader#aot x chubby reader#aot x black reader#aot x reader#aot smut#attack on titan x black reader#attack on titan x chubby reader#attack on titan x reader#attack on titan smut#anime x chubby reader#anime smut#anime x black!reader
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🎀The Holy Trinity🎀
🎀summary🎀
Ghost x König x Soap x Reader (4sum) !!
18+ V NSFW!
Word count: 11.5k 💕 (not proofread yet!)
Enjoy! <3
She was the invisible woman they didn’t know they needed. The woman no one seemed to pay any attention to as she quickly paced the hallways trying to get back to the sanctity of her office. No one actually paid her any mind, howbeit her detrimental job as the base medic. She had been tasked to perform her duties in the wing that housed the Special Forces, along with the men of Task Force 141. There were many powerful, brave soldiers that could’ve caught her attention, but there were 3 in particular that grabbed her by her very womanhood and kept on squeezing, threatening her morals and standards to leak right out of her.
König, the 6’10, patriotic Austrian beast of a soldier who most definitely was a man of few words. When she treated him, he sat confidently, staring a hole into her soul. He was definitely a man whom she felt was socially anxious, and in a way it made her feel, connected to him. She had imagined that it had to be due to his size. He was hard to miss, often turning heads and stopping conversations everywhere he went. She felt the same way at times, finding solstice in being alone, and away from the terrifying stare and judgement from the rest of the soldiers and staff on the base. She wasn’t bullied, but she was definitely not one who fit in with the rest of the medics in her department. She made it a priority to do her deed and leave to her apartment at the end of the day, not bothering to make many friends. The only friends she had managed to make were the two nurses who tended to the front end of the medical ward in the Task Force’s wing. The three of them often went out for drinks at the bar just outside of the base’s gates.
König rarely spoke to her, but when he did, she found herself wanting it to never end. His voice was honey to her ears, a warm embrace in a cold and hard world. Even sitting down on the bed, he towered over her and made her hands shake and her heart pound so hard in her ears she was sure he could hear it. A habit she managed to kick years ago, working endlessly to rid herself of her shaky fingers and anxiety. All come undone by the simple presence of him. In a way, she secretly adored it. Adored him. She found herself thinking of him at the end of a long day, much like a teenage girl still in grade school. She was curious about him, and wanted to know all there was about the mysterious giant. What he looked like under that sniper hood, under his shirt, under those tight military cargos that she was sure got uncomfortably snug when he was aroused. It was nonsense, and she knew that. There was no way a man of his rank would even spare a second glance at her. But it was fun to fantasize.
John “Soap” MacTavish was the polar opposite of König. He was surely a man who would voice his mind whenever and wherever. She admired that about him. He spoke what was real, and gave not a single fuck about it. He was also a sweetheart, always throwing compliments her way and making her feel like hot shit. His spunky Mohawk was always a sight she loved to see in her examination room, and she made sure he knew it. She would return the favor of any compliments he spared her way, and it caused their friendship to blossom. She hoped it would evolve into something more, but Soap seemed like the kind of man who’d wham bam and thank you ma’am, albeit the romantic that he was. She wouldn’t mind it either way, though. A little taste of him couldn’t hurt.
And then there was Simon “Ghost” Riley. The grandest enigma of all three. The man was truly nerve wracking to be around. As nervous and anxious as he made her, she couldn’t help but feel enticed by his mysterious aura. She had no idea how he had managed to find himself on the same team as Soap, as menacing and serious as he usually was when around the base. When he found himself in her examination room, his eyes lingered a bit too long wherever she would touch last. She never knew why he did this, until their small talk had turned into something much more meaningful on one particular visit.
“You’ve got a soft touch, dear.” His rough, jagged accent ran from her ears straight down to that spot that made her squeeze her thighs together to keep it from leaving her. Hearing it wasn’t enough. She wanted it injected in her veins.
“No medic on this base has ever been this bloody gentle. They ought to hire more o’ ya.” He said with a low chuckle. That small, insignificant laugh regularly rang through her mind at the most unexpected moments. She could be doing dishes, cleaning her desk, anything. That laugh stuck to her like glitter on sweaty, sticky skin. She knew it wasn’t something he did often, so when she heard it, an icy cold shiver enveloped her skin and raised goosebumps. She loved it. Wanted to hear more. The lieutenant had her in a chokehold and there was nothing she could do to free herself.
So when she found herself sat in the same vicinity as the trio and a few of the other members of the Task Force in the bar just a ways off base on her birthday, she was understandably a nervous wreck. Just a few tables away, she felt as if the trio were breathing straight down her neck.
**✧*̥˚<3 *̥˚✧**
“Man, that hen from the medical wings’ got a crush on me, mark my words lads.” The Scot breathes, glancing over his shoulder. “Been givin’ me the eyes past few weeks.”
“Fuck’s sake, Johnny. She’s doing her job. Every time a woman spares you a look, you go whipped.” Simon says sternly, also glancing up at her every few minutes. He also found himself painfully interested in her, not wanting to admit to something that could threaten or demean the persona he’s worked so hard to build up. Often times he feels himself unable to help it, her soft touch and sweet smell permeating his senses when he’s least expecting it. No amount of working out, training, or smoking could shake the insatiable hunger he was starting to develop for her. He would visit her office when she was so blissfully unaware of him, just to see how she looked when she was swamped with paperwork, or just relaxing on her break. He was genuinely interested in how she lived, how she loved, how she felt. He hated Soap for the way he started to mention her in the lewdest of ways, only encouraging his raging, exponential growth of feelings for her. A medic? Of all the hardcore, tough women on base that could do him just right, he wanted that one. The one who’s knees would buckle under her if he so much as breathed in her ear. He wondered what it would take to break her mind, body and soul until all she could think about was his thick, fat cock and all the places she could take him. He shifts in his seat at the thought of it, adjusting his pants. God forbid if Johnny saw the way he was rocked up at just the mere sight of her. He’d never hear the end of it.
“What about you, König?” Soap says with a sly smirk. His ears perk up at his name, usually excluded from the conversation due to his introverted nature. “Want a piece of ‘er? I know you do.” He leans forward, lowering his voice. “All the quiet ones are the biggest freaks, aye?” He continues.
“ Ich würde sie direkt an diesem Tisch ficken.” König says lowly, hoping no one else at this club spoke his language. Soap and Ghost glance at each other in confusion.
König knew what Soap said rang true. On all of his visits to her examination room, he’d put on this facade of being stone cold, not interested. But he was more than interested. He wanted to know how she would fare under his touch, how much it would take for him to absolutely ruin her. He was nervous at the very sight of her. She was the reason he’d taken his hygiene more seriously. The reason he started scrubbing his cock and balls more thoroughly every shower, on the off chance that he’d actually get to take her right on that little hospital bed he had made more excuses to come and sit on. She was the reason he became distracted from his work, all of his thoughts eventually turning into some unholy fantasy about her. He often fiddled with his knives to distract himself, to ground himself from any given stress. But to no avail. He wondered if she liked knives, if it was something she’d ever even thought about, if it was something she would let him teach her. It always started innocently like that. Then he wondered how fast he’d be able to cut every single piece of clothing off of her. He wanted to run the knife along her pretty, velvety skin, marking her with every swipe of the blade. Marking her with him.
Surprised at the silence at the table after he asked, Soap grew curious. He chuckled deviously as he leans forward, speaking lowly, keeping out of earshot from the rest of the table. “Well then, lads. I’m afraid we’ve reached an impasse.” He takes a sip of his drink. “And I’ve got the filthiest of ideas for a solution.”
**✧*̥˚ <3 *̥˚✧**
“ Their eyes are all over you. How do you not see it!” Her friend Belinda states, uncomfortably loud. She was glad to see that it wasn’t just her delusions making an appearance. Or the alcohol making her see things that weren't there. She smiles, looking down at her half-empty glass.
“There’s no way, Bal. Why would any of them be interested in me? I’m literally a nobody here” She states, smugly trying to fish more validation out of her. She takes another sip of her drink, wincing at how strong it was. It was her birthday. This was no time for girly drinks. She needed some liquid confidence. She had set her mind to approach one of them, but had no idea who would she would take the chance with. It was an ongoing debate that had been going on in her head for the past few weeks, her nerves practically incapacitating her whenever one of them showed up in her exam room. It felt silly, as if she were simply window shopping at the mall.
“You’re right, Bal. They’re all staring. Maybe they want you guys too. There’s enough of them to go around” She says with a low chuckle, a quiet green monster stirring awake in her belly. She couldn’t stand to see any of them wanting to be with anyone else, even if she had no right to feel that way. She hadn’t managed to speak any of them in a romantic manner other than Soap, who surely wanted in her panties by now. Maybe he’d be the one. Or König. Or Simon. All she knew was that she needed to be satiated. And fast.
“Well hello there ladies, how are ‘ye?” The Scot’s voice rang against her ears, making her freeze in place. She hadn’t seen him walk to their table, spaced out with the thoughts of who she would try and approach first. The girls were just as stunned as she was, smiling up flirtatiously at Soap through their eyelashes. She wanted to jump across the table and bash both of their heads against each other. She flinched at the new feeling she had, the newfound possession in her blood made her confused. She looked up at him, parting her lips to speak.
“It’s her birthdayyyy!” Bal says drunkenly, interrupting the modest approach she was going for.
“Well then!” Soap says, looking down at her, something close to amusement in his eyes. She could get used to this angle. “Come celebrate with us! We’ve got some pints about to roll out, what d’ ya say?” The entire table looks at her, waiting for an answer. Her mouth hangs open, the words stuck in her throat.
Her friend grabs her hand and practically drags her from the table. Bal and Sophia giggle like girls as they start approaching they boys’ table. Her heart pounds so hard, it threatens to break open its bony cage in hopes of escaping out of her mouth. When they finally reach the table, Bal and Sophia slide into the table, Soap smugly sitting in between the both of them. She bites her bottom lip nervously, the only spot left would be smushed in between König and Ghost. Not that it particularly bothered her, but it was still something embarrassing to have to do against her own will. In public, at that. She didn’t need the entire bar population to know that she would be more than happy to put all of her holes to use at once. She glances between the both of them as Ghost stands up, offering a spot between him and König.
“After you, luv” he says lowly. Goosebumps raise on her arms at the sound of his deep, husky, accented voice. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to hear the way he must have groaned and growled if she rode his cock like a cowgirl racing her favorite horse. She felt heat rise to her ears at the sudden infiltration of a dirty thought.
“Well thank you, Lieutenant. Didn’t know you were such a gentleman!” She says flirtatiously, the liquid courage going straight to her head. He freezes slightly at the way she addresses him, sending a white hot wave of deviousness to settle right in his balls. She smiles as she sits down, scooting closer to König’s large frame. She looks across the table to her friends, watching as their eyes widen at his height. He was the tallest at the table, even though he was sitting down. She loved to see the way he turned heads. The way women seemed to either cower from him, or wanted in his pants and how there seemed to be no in between. And she was no exception. She took a certain pride in being his primary care provider, feeling on top of the world sitting next to the king-sized man.
“Hey, König. How are you?” She says, greeting him quietly and sweetly. She spoke softly as if she would scare him away. She had a different approach for each man. She had it all calculated in her head, the subject being something that lingered in her thoughts for weeks and weeks on end. She felt pathetic trying to choose in between the three of them, not wanting to choose at all. She wished she could take them all at once, no regrets in the world. For Soap, she knew she wouldn’t have to hold back. She could be as flirty as she wanted, with not a care. She knew he’d soak it up like a damn sponge. For Ghost, she wanted to appear just as hard of a nut to crack as he did. She wanted to play mysterious too. For König, she knew he was a dominant, insatiable beast. How could a man of that stature not be? She wasn’t opposed to the idea of him making her his absolute whore.
“I’m well darling. And you?” He says his Austrian accent wet and thick on his words. The visible lines of his eyes squeezing together under his sniper hood. He was smiling? She thought to herself. Now that was a sight she could get used to seeing. She smiled back at him, parting her lips to speak, when the Scot interrupts her once again. Maybe his mouth wouldn’t run so much if he had someone sitting on it. She thought, heat rising to her ears and spreading to her cheeks. The more she sipped her drink, the bolder she felt her thoughts getting, threatening to breach the vocal barrier she’d worked so hard to build.
“It’s the lass’s birthday, aye? We’ll need some way to celebrate the life of our favorite doctor on base!” He says enthusiastically, raising his glass for a cheer. They all clink their glasses together, her eyes landing on König’s as she smirks at Soaps annoyingness. He smiles again and leans down to whisper in her ear.
“Happy birthday, Liebling.” He says lowly, his breath raising the hairs on her entire body. She looks at him and absentmindedly yet softly wraps her arms around his neck, squeezing him in a small hug. His muscles tensed under her touch, and his hands hesitated wrapping themselves around her waist as she hugged him.
“Thank you, König.” She says sweetly, an innocent smile splayed on her face.
She nuzzles her face in his neck, inhaling his masculine, musky pheromones. He smelled of what she would envision a man’s pure, raw love to smell like. She wanted it all over her skin, all over her bedsheets for her to smell the next morning.
“Do I smell good, doctor?” He says teasingly, her arms still wrapped around his neck. His Austrian accent rings through her ears, sinuously slithering it’s way down her core and settling into the deepest parts of her womanhood.
She freezes in place, letting out a breathy chuckle of embarrassment. She quickly gathers her thoughts and fixes the situation the only way she knows how. By flirting.
“You do, sir. Not sure what cologne you use, but I like it.” She purrs, leaning into his ear, not wanting the rest of the table to hear. He freezes under her touch, looking up at her with his half lidded blue orbs. She instantly noticed that look in his eyes. It was pure lust. And she wanted every single part of what it had to offer. She looked back at him with her same drunken gaze, not wanting to break the stare, afraid this moment would run out of the door, never to be seen again. Was he the one she wanted?
“Well thank you doctor, but I’m not wearing any.” He concludes smugly, scanning her face gently for a reaction. She smiles deviously, taking a sip of her drink and hoping to God he doesn’t notice the deep shade of red spreading from her ears to her entire face. She sits back, only now noticing how quiet the table got. She looks around and makes eye contact with her friends across the way, both of them seemingly shell-shocked at the bold display from her and Konig. She smiles at him, placing her glass down. They all begin speaking again. She looks her to her left at Ghost. As many times as she spent alone with him, he still wracked her nerves. He can tell that was the effect he had on her, so he leaned close to her and spoke near her ear with his hot, accented breath that sent shivers up her spine.
“Happy birthday, luv. Surely you don’t plan on spending it here, with the men who are always hurt and working you the hardest?” He says lowly, his voice barely a rasp. She bites her lip at his comment. He was surprisingly right. She could’ve been spending her birthday somewhere nicer. Maybe in the city, far away from her workplace. But she knew what she wanted for her birthday. She smiled at the thought.
“Oh? And why’s that, L.t?” She says teasingly, subtly scooting her way closer to him. His smell inches its way to her nose and wrapping itself around her brain. He smelled of masculine musk, cedarwood and the rough smell of the outdoors. He looked her face up and down, his gaze landing on her lips. He catches her gaze again and looks away, embarrassed at his own forwardness. She smirks to herself at his boldness. She sits back in her seat between Konig and Ghost, feeling like an ant between two mountains. She looks at Soap across the table. He was in the middle of a conversation with her two friends, shooting a glance her way ever so often.
Her friends finish off their drinks, drunkenly giggling with Soap as he makes endless flirtatious jokes and dirty innuendos.
“Well birthday girl…” Sophia starts, gathering her purse and phone, scooting to the end of the booth as she gets up, presumably to leave her alone with all three men like a madwoman. “We’d love to stick around, but we’ve got an early start tomorrow.” Bal starts to get up also, scooting past Soap, she shoots them a look. A glare that could cut diamonds. There was no way she wouldn’t break down into an absolute nervous mess as the only woman under the three men’s gazes. Her anger turned into pleading, and she shot her friends a desperate look of help me before they giggled and rushed out of the bar. They knew what they were doing. Her mouth hung agape as the three men ran their eyes all over her.
“And then there were four, aye?” Soap says, finishing the last of his drink.
**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**
“You want to…what?” She says, her mouth hanging open, her eyes shooting between the three men as she’s taken aback by their proposal. “All…three of you?” Her voice comes out barely a squeak. She looks down at her glass, her drink long gone. The glass was still sweating in the suddenly humid bar, the condensation moistening her fingers. Soap, Konig and Ghost look at each other, a smug, hungry look in their eyes. She suddenly felt much smaller, as if her lungs were shrunk to a point where they couldn’t take enough air to support her brain function. She couldn’t possibly deny them. She couldn’t. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. A dream of many women on the base. Soap was no giant, but the other two…she should be scared. But she wasn’t. She craved to know what they all felt like. What they all looked like under their rough military attire. How they would all fit on her Queen sized bed. She nudges Ghost beside her, wanting to stand up. He slid out of the booth and let her stand, staying stood beside her, looking down at her with a lust laced stare. His eyes ran up and down her body, starting from her eyes and trailing all the way down to the low heels she wore. Her gaze fell to the floor as she cleared her throat before speaking.
“We won’t be mad if you say no, dear.” König says before she could speak, his voice almost a whisper. He spoke to her as if she would break if he spoke to her. She looked at him with grace, the thoughts running through her head anything but. She clears her throat again. The thought of denying them seemed to be a bigger sin than what she was agreeing to.
“Um…sure. We can do that” she says, nodding her head. She let out her statement as if the opportunity would slip through her fingers, as if it would expire any moment. She smiles at them as they look among themselves, smug in their eyes.
**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**
The cab ride to her apartment was going to be nothing short of awkward, her squishing herself between three gigantic soldiers, two of them masked. The driver asked no questions and nervously drove off from the bar. The ride was filled with a certain bloated tension that could have surely spilled over at the slightest of movements. She sat tensely between König and Soap, the three of them barely fitting in the back seat. The scot placed his hand on her left knee, nonchalantly moving it further and further up under her skirt. König looked at them through his sniper hood, doing the same to her right knee. They looked at her like hawks to prey as she felt her panties moisten with anticipation. Soap was the first to reach the hem of her panties, slipping a finger through them. She jumped slightly at the sudden contact. He moved his finger deeper into her panties, reaching her weeping hole. He leaned down and whispered into her neck.
“Tsk tsk, so ready for me aren’t ‘ya?” His warm accented breath caressed her skin, sending signals to her brain for her to spread her legs right then and there. She bites her bottom lip, unable to part them in fear of the most ungodly of noises escaping them. Without warning, he enters a thick finger right into her. She gasps quietly, glancing at the driver and praying that he hadn’t heard. She was sure he knew something was up back there, but with the ecstasy Soap’s finger was causing to run through her every blood cell, she couldn’t bring herself to care. He pumps his finger in and out of her, curling it ever so slightly and grazing the one spot that would bring her to her orgasm. She looks up at him, her eyes lidded and tears brimming her eyelids. He was driving her insane, simply by the curve of a thick digit. She can see the slight smirk on his lips, his smugness driving her crazy as he drags his finger out of her abruptly. She let out a quiet whimper, her mouth hanging open in astonishment. Her head whips around to look at König, who’s hand had hovered by the hem of her panties as Soap did his thing to her. She can see his eyes squint, signaling that he was smiling.
She parts her legs the slightest bit, the only bit that she could while being sandwiched between the two men. He wastes no time in slipping a finger into her panties, taking a slight pause when he notices just how wet she really was. He glanced up at Soap, an amused look in his eyes. His fingers were much larger than Soap’s, evident by the way he slightly struggled to get his hand in her panties. He withdraws, then pulls out the smallest of pocket knives. Her eyes widen at the glistening blade, looking at the driver to make sure he hadn’t noticed the weapon. He reaches down between her legs, a nervous look written on her face. She stares at him, absolutely oblivious to what he’s about to do. She hears the noise of fabric ripping, and a gust of cold air hit her clit as she realizes. He had just expertly sliced the crotch part of her panties right open. How he hadn’t cut her was beyond her. Her mouth remains open in awe as he puts the knife back into its respective spot in his belt. He stares at her in the eyes through the whole ordeal, a starved look in his green eyes. His hands travel back up her thighs as his finger rests in the spot she wouldn’t want anywhere else at the moment. He inserts a finger into her hole, still slick with juices and ready for him. His other hand palms his crotch secretively, and his eyes roll back into his head as he dips his head forward. He bottoms out his thick finger, long and muscular. She wondered if his fingers were this large, what he must be carrying between his thighs. She looks down at his crotch, the imprint of his half hard cock showing itself. She wanted nothing more than his pants off in that moment. He curled his finger, the length of it reaching more spots than Soap had managed to get to. He continuously flicked her swollen nub of nerves inside of her, causing her to buck her hips forward. Her movements caused the leather seat under her to squeak slightly. Soap places a hand on her knee, stilling her. She shakes from holding in her moans, which she was surprisingly able to do considering the giant finger pumping itself in and out of her and stimulating her plushy walls. König enters another finger inside of her, stretching her hole. She places a hand on his strong forearm, the thick ropes of muscles flexing as he continues fingering her pussy. She feels her juices run out of her and down her thigh as they pool under her ass. As he continues, she feels the familiar tightening of her core. She squeezes his arm tightly, looking up at his green eyes as she reaches her orgasm. He takes notice of her approaching climax and slows his pace, letting her ride it out slowly as she struggles not to buck her hips forward. Her breathing begins to get sporadic and hitched as the hot coil inside of her snaps, and a thousand pound wave of euphoric pleasure melts her brain in the backseat of the cab.
She starts to taste blood in her mouth from biting her lip, trying to stifle her moans and whimpers as best she can. König palms his dick at the sight of her, a heavy breath escaping his lips. He pulls his finger from out of her, sliding them up and coating her clit with her juices. She jumps slightly at the sudden touch to her sensitive bundle of nerves as he flicks it with his middle finger. Soap continues holding her down by the knee, a look of amusement in König’s eyes as he overstimulates her. He takes his hand from under her skirt, inspecting his fingers as they glisten with her juices. He raises his hand to his mask, slipping his hand under as she hears the sound of him putting his fingers in his mouth. She rests her head on the headrest behind her as she looks at him in awe. So he was a freak, under that stoic, mysterious aura he always gave off. She steadies her breathing, noticing how they were around the corner from her apartment. She looks past König at Ghost, his jeans uncomfortably tight in his crotch area as the imprint of his cock makes an appearance. She licks her lips at the sight, looking up to his eyes hungrily.
**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**
As she unlocks the door to her apartment, she feels the hungry gaze of all three men on her back. She felt as if she were turning her back to a starved pack of wolves, ready to pounce on her at any moment. She walks in first, turning to meet their gazes. Ghost walks in first, followed by König and Soap. She smiles at them nervously as they look around her apartment, taking at her decor. She bends down to take her heels off, suddenly feeling a strong hand on her hip. She freezes in place as a gruff voice caresses her ear.
“Sit on the couch, love” Ghost says gently. She walks to the couch in her living room, her heel strap half undone. She sits down as Ghost approaches her slowly, the soft fabric of the couch caressing her thighs. He gets down on one knee in front of her, and takes her ankle in his hand. Her ankle fit snugly into his hand, his large fingers wrapping around it. König and Soap watch as he begins undoing her heel straps, his fingers grazing her skin and leaving a hot trail of fire in its wake. He looks up at her, and back down. His eyes travel to underneath her skirt, chuckling to himself at the mess that König made with her panties.
Once he gets both heels off, he runs his warm hands up her legs and to her hips when he lifts her right off the couch as if she weighed nothing. He walked through the small hallway as she straddled him, her legs wrapped around his jeaned hips. The rough material of his jacket rubbed against her clit slightly, causing her to let out a starved moan.
“Such a needy girl, aren’t you, lovie” he says in her ear, his eyes lidded with hunger through his balaclava.
She looks over his shoulder at Soap and König as they follow him to her bedroom. She smiles at them as they strut through her apartment, their large stature making it feel tiny. As they reach her bedroom, she looks Ghost in his eyes, darkened with lust as he swings the door open. Once he sees the bed, he wastes no time in throwing her on it.
The way they don’t speak definitely intimidated her. She knew she was in for it when they all stood in a line, staring down at her on the bed. All three men begin undressing, starting with their jackets.
She gulps before breaking the silence. “So…who’s first?” She says, her voice shaky with anticipation. They all glance at her, a smirk written on Soap’s face. He chuckles.
“Who said anything about taking turns, lass?” He asks nonchalantly as he pulls his shirt over his head. She looked at his body, his prominent abs jutting from his skin. His abdominal muscles flex and the light pink scars move as he throws his shirt on the carpeted floor. He unbuckles his jeans, sliding them down at the same time as his boxers. His cock jumps forward, twitching to attention. He wasn’t too long, but his shaft was surely thick and veins protruded from the soft skin. He approaches her first, sitting on the bed next to her and placing a hand on her thigh as the heat from his hard dick radiated onto her leg. He leans over and lightly kisses her neck, seemingly holding back the passion and hunger that’s rubbing through his veins. He runs his tongue over the soft skin on her neck as his hands run up and down her belly. She moans aloud as he leaves small love bites on her. Hearing the continued shuffling noises of the other two men undressing, she looks over to König as he begins pulling his sniper hood off. She stares at him in awe as he reveals his face to her for the first time. He was simply gorgeous. He had strong centric European features, his nose large with a sharp bump on the bridge, and plush pink lips that parted once she made eye contact with him. He had dirty blonde stubble littering his strong jaw.
“You’re…so handsome, König” she says in awe, the words barely coming out as a squeak. He smiles at her, his charmingly crooked teeth making an appearance. He was perfect. She wanted him inside of her immediately. But impatience would get her nowhere in this situation. Soap bites her neck harder, seemingly out of jealousy. She jumps and smiles as he does this, noticing the knowing look on his face.
“No favorites, lovie” Soap says, softly licking to soothe the spot he bit harshly.
“Thank you, Liebling.” König says gently, his German caressing her ears and shooting right down into her core. He continues undressing, kicking his cargo pants off and kicking them to the side. He pulls his underwear down next, his cock springing up and letting out a quiet smack as it bounces off his stomach. He was huge. She was no virgin, but the sheer size of it made her shudder. It was long and thick, matching the gigantic size of the rest of him. She looked at it nervously as he began stepping forward.
“Don’t be nervous, dear. I’ll be gentle with you” he says softly, crawling onto the bed in front of her. She smiles at him in response. He lies on her right, with Soap on her left.
As Soap continues his work on her neck, she looks past him at Ghost, now naked as well. His cock seemed to be the perfect size. He was big, just like him, but he wasn’t packing a monster like König. He grabs his shaft, slowly stroking it as he walks forward. He lets out a grunt as he crawls on the bed, taking the only spot left being in front of her. With all three men now laying before her naked, her heart pounded in her ears in nervousness. König gets to work on her shirt, lifting it over her head, leaving her in her bra and skirt. He palms her right breast, running a thumb over her tender nipple through the padded fabric of her bra. He lets out a low chuckle at the sight of it.
“Sit up for me, Liebling” he says, a smile lacing his voice. She looked at Soap as she sits up, her neck still moist with his saliva. König begins to fiddle with her bra strap, one of the hooks resisting. He grunts as he continues to fiddle with it. All of a sudden she hears a loud rip as her bra falls down to her thighs. She looks at him as he smiles at her nonchalantly.
“I will have no panties or bras to wear if you keep this up, König” she says, giggling at his short temper.
“Good, I like you better that way, dear.” he says in her ear, gently pushing her chest down so she can lie on her back. He wastes no time in going for her nipple, wrapping his lips around them and flicking the bud with his tongue. She moans, holding his head in place. Soap does the same as König, sucking and biting at her other nipple. The double stimulation was driving her crazy, it was enough to pull an orgasm out of her right then. She bucked her hips into the air as she looked over both of their heads at Ghost. He was naked all except his balaclava. She knew he wanted to conceal his identity, so she didn’t press the matter. And with both men sucking and biting at her nipples, she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment. It was a discussion for another time. She knew she was soaked, she could feel her slick practically dripping down her thighs. Ghost looks down at her as he moves his hand from his cock to her thighs, running them up and down her skin and landing on her hips. He wraps his fingers in the waistline of her skirt, pulling it down roughly. She lifted her hips to assist him in getting her naked, parting her legs as soon as it was pulled off. He threw it to the floor, looking at her exposed pussy with nothing short of starvation.
“I don’t think you know how long I’ve waited for this, lovie” he says, leaning down on his stomach and positioning his head between her legs. He pulls his balaclava over his mouth, resting it on the bridge of his nose, exposing his dark stubbled jaw. He wraps his arms under her thighs, holding her in place. He reaches around her thigh and thumbs her clit, the sudden contact making her buck her hips forward. The three of them stimulated her all at once, making her brain dizzy with pleasure. She cries out as he circles her clit.
“God damn, look how wet you are baby.” He says, his voice low, coming out much like a growl. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He continues, his breath caressing her heat. Ghost dips his head forward as he replaces his thumb with his tongue, running a stripe along her entire slit. She cries out in pleasure, her moans ringing off the walls. She slides her hips forward, burying her clit in his face.
“I love the way you sing for us, lass.” Soap praises against her breast. She rolls her eyes back, unable to focus on anything as all three men work on her simultaneously. Ghost continues eating her out, sucking and flicking his tongue over her clit as König raises his head from her breast. He pinches her nipples as he leans down to her face.
“You’re doing so well for us, Liebling.” He whispers, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers. “T-thank you, König” she whimpers. He closes the gap between them, kissing her with a hunger she can only describe as ravenous. He takes her bottom lip in his, biting at it gently. She moans into his mouth as they make out. His stubble scratches roughly against her mouth, resulting in her lips to swell and plump. He continues palming at her breast, caressing her body as he kisses her. She knew she wasn’t supposed to chose favorites, but she loved how he was the gentlest with her, caressing her and putting her pleasure first. She feels a finger on her chin, turning her head to her left. Soap turns her face towards him, kissing her swollen lips. She swirls at the mix of smells, both men’s musk filling her nostrils and settling on her breath. He continues kissing her hungrily, caressing her cheek roughly. He moans into her mouth and stroked himself beside her. She reaches next to her, König’s cock not hard to find. She takes it in her hand, the thick shaft hard as a rock in her small hand. She takes the head in her hand first, thumbing his slit and smearing his precum over it. He lets out a pitched moan, close to a whimper. She smiles at his noises, his moans driving her over the edge. She feels the familiar tightening in her core. König caresses her breast as she continues stroking his thick shaft, all while kissing Soap and practically riding Ghost’s face from under him. He pulls away as he feels her tense around his tongue, parting with a kiss on her sensitive clit.
“Not just yet, baby. Can’t have ‘ya tappin’ out on us can we?” He says nonchalantly, standing up on his knees. She whimpers as he stands.
“P-please, Simon.” She breaks the kiss with Soap as she pleads, the desperation practically leaking off her tongue. The use of his government name was a means to beg him into continuing. He shakes his head hearing her call him by his name, smiling at her smugly. He pulls his balaclava down over his mouth as he leans forward, placing a finger on her chin and pulling her face forward.
“Oi, don’t you dare try and entice me ‘ya little minx. Be patient like a good little puppy, right lads?” He says. The two men on either side of her nod their heads, and let out a string of mhms. König continues moaning and grunting as she strokes him messily. He places his hand over hers, guiding her and noticing her becoming undone more and more by the minute. She looks back up to Ghost, who begins lining himself up with her pussy. He holds her legs apart as he slides his tip up and down her slit, coating it in her slick. She moans, looking back at König as he watches her face contort with pleasure. He watches her with such admiration, such devotion that her brain screamed at her to jump his cock first. She stared at him with nervousness as Ghost begins pushing his tip inside of her, letting out s groan as he does so. She bucks her hips forward, feeling him falter as he stretches her hole.
“So fucking…tight” he says breathlessly, pushing into her. She feels the pressure build up in her core, electric waves of pleasure shooting through her spine as he connects himself to her walls. In no time he bottoms out, his balls laid against her ass. He begins thrusting in and out of her, his grip on her thigh becoming rougher and rougher with each thrust. She lets out a loud moan, close to a yell. König continues sucking and biting her nipples, leaving hickies all along her breast. Soap leans over to her face, kissing her again as Ghost continues fucking her senseless. Their hips slap together lewdly as he fucks her, his dick hitting her swollen bundle of nerves inside of her. He moans and grunts aloud, his gruff voice music to her ears.
“Fuck, lovie. You feel so good. So…inviting.” He says, lifting her leg and throwing it over his shoulder. The new position would allow for him to reach her deepest spots, the part of her walls no man had ever ventured before. She cries out as he hits her cervix repeatedly, the pain turning into instant pleasure as he opens her up and sexes her most sensitive spots. He grunts loudly and squeezes her foot next to his head. He continues pumping in and out of her, throwing out praises and slurred words. His thrusts falter as he slows down, gently lowering her leg off his shoulder. “I won’t last long if I keep that up, sweetheart.” He chuckles, slowly pulling out of her. “On your knees, baby.”
She takes a second, catching her breath before sitting up. König and Soap move over slightly as she gets on her hands and knees. Ghost wastes no time in pushing his fat cock into her again, hitting her deepest, sensitive spots in this position. She cries out as he grabs the fat of her ass, landing a few rough spanks to the soft, plushy skin. They were surely going to be bruised the next day, not that she would mind. He curses out as she backs her hips onto him, allowing his dick to go even deeper, if even possible. “Such a good little puppy. Listenin’ so well.” She looks up at Soap and König as they watch her get railed and praised by the masked man behind her.
“Tsk tsk, we’ve oughta put your other hole to use, right König?” Soap says, grabbing her by the chin as he strokes his cock to the sight of her getting fucked stupid. König grunts in response, his hand replaced hers as he also strokes himself, unbelievably aroused by the sight of her thoughts being fucked right out of her head. She smiles to the two men as she understands what he’s insinuating. She opens her mouth wide, tongue hanging out like the puppy Ghost praised her so well to be. Soap shuffles towards her face, his thick cock in hand. She takes his head between his lips, feeling how swollen and plump it was with arousal. He moans breathlessly as he bucks his hips forward, gently fucking her mouth. She teases him by licking the precum off of his slit, and licking her lips, coating her lips with his juice. He bites his lip at the sight of her, roughly grabbing her hair from the back of her head.
“Such a dirty lass. Who knew?” He says breathlessly, shoving half of his dick in her mouth. She hollows out her cheeks as she takes him, bobbing her head forward. As Ghost fucks her from behind, she involuntary takes him deeper in her mouth with each thrust. In no time his tip grazed the back of her throat, causing her to gag and tear up as he groans and grunts. He begins fucking her face ruthlessly, the hunger getting the best of him. She gags as tears brim her eyes, tears and drool spilling over onto the bed below her.
“Look at ‘ya. Dirty, drooling little puppy. This’ll stick in my head for a while” he chuckles, tightening his grip on her hair.
He continues thrusting his cock deep into her mouth as Ghost goes feral on her pussy. He continues spanking her, praising her as she tries to pleasure both men simultaneously. Soap slows his thrusts, dragging them out. He pushes into her mouth until his pubic hair brushes her nose, and pulls out almost all the way, properly slutting out her mouth. She feels weight shift beside her as König lies beside her. He reaches below her, his middle finger rubbing her wet clit as Ghost continues pumping into her. Unable to look at him, she moans on Soap’s shaft. He grunts at the added stimulation, her moans vibrating the nerves on the head of his cock. As König circles her clit, she feels a hot wave of pleasure grow inside of her. She feels as if she’s about to simply implode, clenching tightly around Ghost. He slows his pace, unable to fuck her as angrily when she was clenched so tightly around him. His cock met resistance, causing him to moan loudly as he leans over her, hands still tightly gripping her ass and hips. She cries out, muffled by the thick dick in her throat as a stream of her juices spray out under her, pooling in König’s hand. He chuckles, bringing his hand from under her gently.
“Little Liebling, you’ve made such a mess, hm?” He purrs in her ear, standing on his knees. Her thighs shake and tremble, threatening to buckle as her body weakens. König made her squirt, which she was sure was a group effort, but it stunned her nonetheless. Soap lessens his grip on her head, letting her up for air. She looks towards König at he stares down at his hand covered in her squirt. He stares her in the eyes lustfully, bringing his hand to his thick cock. He uses her juices to wet his shaft, moaning and grunting as he jerks himself with her slick. She stares at him in awe, as he lies back down and begins circling her clit once more with his free hand. The sight alome was enough to drive her over the edge. She feels her knees buckling under her once more as he pleasures her sensitive bud again, resulting in Ghost grabbing her hips to keep her up.
Ghost’s thrusts falter once again, this time he stops completely. She whimpers onto Soap’s shaft in need, bucking her hips backwards for more. Ghost chuckles. Behind her as she whines. He pulls out of her as he leans downward, whispering in her ear. “You’ve brought me to the edge, lovie. Can’t cum just yet. ‘M not done with ‘ya.” He growls, his gruff voice distracting her from Soap. He leans back up, giving her a last smack on her ass as he motions Soap behind her. They switch spots, Ghost now on her right, Soap lining himself up with her entrance, and König still below her, fingering her clit. He looks at her in awe as the two men switch themselves, using both her holes as he focuses on her pleasure. She puts him on a pedestal for this, metaphorically wanting to save him for last. She smiles at him, her eyes lidded with tiredness. He smiles back at her, his charming crooked teeth flashing at her. Her heart melts at him, but their moment is cut short when Soap shoves himself into her.
“God, lass. So tight. Even after you’ve taken such a big cock in ‘ya?” He says breathlessly. He grunts as he bottoms out inside of her. She cries out, the double stimulation from him fucking her to the hilt and König’s thick fingers caressing her clit from under her, not to mention the stinging pain on her ass cheeks from Ghost’s ruthless spanking.
“Wait, Soap. Let her get on her back.” König says gently, placing a hand on her hip as he helps her onto her back. She’s now face to face with Ghost and König. Soap places a hand on her thigh, lifting her leg onto his shoulder as slaps his heavy cock onto her clit before entering her. He grunts as he pushes into her, wasting no time in fucking her senseless. He slams into her, resulting in her yelling out as a sharp, pleasure laced moan bounced off the wall. Ghost takes König’s place at her clit as he uses a thick finger to circle her bud, slowly jerking himself in the process. He dips his head forward and lifts his balaclava, and begins working at her nipples, sucking and biting them roughly.
König sits up impatiently, his thick cock hovering over her face. He looks down at her in awe, his eyes squinted and breathing hitched in excitement. He places a hand on her bed frame as he lowers himself onto her face, the tip of his dick entering between her lips. She moans at the double use of her holes, eagerly widening her mouth. His cock only makes it a bit past halfway before she hits her limit, gagging and choking on him. He pulls out slightly, looking at her with concern in his eyes. His grip tightens on the headboard, hitting the back of her throat ever so slightly. She melted at his gentleness, but she wanted nothing more than to take all of him. Or at least try. She lifts her head, hollowing her cheeks and breathing out as she takes him as deep as she can, she can smell the musk of his pubic hair as she gets deeper than she had before. König lets out a gentle moan as she sucks him, deepthroating him and feeling the bulge of his cock protruding from her throat. She takes her hand and grabs the remainder of him, gripping his base and squeezing as she continues taking him in deep. Soap leans forward and pushes her stomach down, releasing a new feeling she’s never felt before. She felt closer to him internally, taking every single inch of him as he moans at the new feeling too.
“Fuck, lady. You’re just perfect. Look at ‘ya, taking every damn inch of me like a good little puppy.” He purrs, his Scottish accent stronger as he pumps himself in and out of her, slowly dragging each thrust out. She smiles at him, baring her teeth from around König’s cock. He starts to move his hips slightly, seemingly not wanting to hurt her or choke her to death. He smiles at her as she nods her head at him, signaling that he was good to start thrusting. He takes her silent confirmation, and starts pumping in and out of her mouth. She gags and gurgles, the lewd noises bouncing off the walls. The sound of her choking on his absolute monster cock drives her crazy, it was music to her ears. He continues fucking her mouth as she moans over the tip of his shaft, the vibrations of her voice driving König closer to the edge by the minute. Soap's thrusts begin to get sloppy, signaling that he was close to his climax. His grip on her leg tightens as it hangs over his shoulder. His muscles glisten with sweat. He grunts as his pumps get slower. She feels his cock twitch and pulse, as he lets out a string of curses and moans into her leg. He pulls out of her before he can paint her walls white with his cum, and jerks himself, aiming at her stomach. Ghost watches from her breasts as he shoots his seed onto her stomach, grunting with every pulse of his shaft. He steps back, admiring his work like a painter admires his freshly finished canvas. He breathes heavily, walking into her bathroom and emerges with a bundle of tissues. König then pulls out of her mouth slowly, letting go of her headboard with a creak. He reaches down and runs a thumb over her tear stained cheeks.
“You did so good, lass. So good for me.” He says as he wipes her stomach of his seed. König gets up and walks towards Soap as she watches them tiredly, her holes fatigued and swollen from the constant use. Ghost lifts his head from her breast, her nipples now sore and overstimulated from being sucked and bitten through it all. He gently slaps her breast, causing it to jiggle and making him chuckle lowly.
“Such perfect little mounds, lovie” he says, caressing her neck. She smiles at him, leaning forward and planting a kiss on his lips before he can pull his balaclava back down. He pauses for a moment and his mouth hangs agape, a smile growing on his lips before he pulls it down over his mouth.
König places himself in front of her, offering his hand. She takes it as he helps her stand. Her legs like jello, her thighs shake and falter as she holds onto his strong shoulders. “My poor little liebe, so tired and fucked out, yes?” He purrs, bringing her into an embrace. Ghost and Soap watch as he sits on the bed, crawling toward the headboard. He places his back onto the headboard and effortlessly lifts her onto his lap, spreading her legs over his knees. He slides his hands up and down her thighs, parting them while kissing her neck and nibbling at her earlobes. Her body shivered as he did this, his gentle caresses feeling like sparks on her skin after the roughness of the other two men. “I’d love to ruin you tonight, liebling. But you’ve have enough of that, hm?” He purrs. She nods her head, her brain swirling in her skull and preventing any words from leaving her. She lies her back onto his chest as he positioned his cock in front of her clit. He slides his head up and down her slit, coating him in her juices. He slaps his tick, heavy shaft against her entrance before pushing the tip in, waves of electricity flowing through her veins. She moans at the thickness of him, throwing her head back onto his chest. He kisses her forehead, grunting as he pushes himself deeper inside of her, his cock only halfway inside before he hits her tightest spot, unseen by any man. He pushes into her slowly, forcing the rest of his thickness into her walls. Tears brim her eyes as she moans and cries out, a toxic mixture of pain and pleasure shooting through her. Ghost reaches forward and slowly circles her clit, trying to keep her from clenching too much. The room was silent besides König’s hushes and sweet praises in her ear, the other two men seemingly feeling sorry for her. She had never had any man this big before, but there was a first for everything. The stimulation from Ghost fingering her clit allows König to enter into her deeper. In no time he bottoms out, his cock buried deep inside her, all the way to the hilt. Soap approaches her to her right, kissing her stomach and leaving love bites all the way to her breasts. She would look like she had been through a war the next day, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. He begins suckling and biting at her nipples once again, flicking his tongue over the sensitive buds.
“Scheiße, du bist so eng, Liebe” he praises. She hadn't any idea what he said, but the way he spoke to her made her insane. “Hm?” She replied, the only word she had managed to squeak out since being ruthlessly fucked by the two other men. König lets out a deep chuckle at her cluelessness.
“I said you’re so tight, dear. So warm. So inviting for me.” He breathes out. He begins thrusting inside of her, slowly at first. He grunts and moans in her ear, his grip on her thighs tightening with restraint as he tries his hardest not to fuck the thoughts right out of her brain at any given moment. He begins thrusting faster, pumping himself in and out of her. She moans and cries out, going absolutely dumb on his dick as he fucks her at a steady pace. She reaches her hands behind her, running her fingers through his dirty blonde hair, it being soft in between her fingers. She lets out a string of curses as she feels her core tightening. She clenches around him, her grip tightening in his hair. He dips his head forwards as he lets out a string of German expletives and grunts, thrusting his hips up into her. He speeds up his pace, feeling as she tightens around him. His cock met with resistance as she comes close to her edge.
“Are you going to cum for me, love?” He whispers in her ear. She nods her head sporadically, unable to focus on anything but the thick, hot cock sliding in and out of her. “Mhmm. ‘M gonna cummm” she manages to squeak out. He chuckles in her hair, the gruff voice caressing her ears. “Cum for me, my sweet liebling. I want your juices all over my cock and balls, hm?”. He praises, giving her a small slap on the stomach. She rolls her hips, in sync with Ghost’s finger flicking her clit and Soap periodically nibbling at her nipples. König thrusts into her g-spot faster and harder, his own moans and cries hot on her ears. She feels the familiar tightening of her core, and warmth pooling at her clit as another spray of her juices spew out onto the bed. The mixture of her moans and his grunts make for a porn worthy scene as her squirt runs down her pussy and onto his balls. Her thighs shake with pleasure, her body now completely spent from orgasming. König chuckles as her legs shake violently. Ghost moves his hands from her clit, chuckling as he licks her juices off of his fingers.
“You’re like a sprinkler, love” Ghost chuckles, his fingers glistening with her slick. She smiles at him as he stands, his cock ready and twitching with need. He hadn’t finished fucking her in hopes that he’d be the one to breed her. But the way he saw her going stupid on König’s cock meant that he’d have to make do with her delicious mouth for now. He leans forward, grabbing her head gently by the hair and guiding her lips to his shaft. He moans as she takes him in her mouth, bobbing her head the best she can while König fucks her. He’s now drilling into her, cursing and whimpering aloud shamelessly. Ghost begins to thrust into her mouth, unapologetically starved from being cut short earlier. She relaxes her jaw muscles and allows him to fuck her face ruthlessly. She gags and chokes on him, droll dripping down her chin and onto her breasts as she bounces from König’s fucking. She moans onto his dick, riling him up more. He slides his cock deep into her throat, bottoming out until her nose is buried in his pubic hair.
“Fuckkk, lovie. I can see my cock bulging from your throat. God…damn.” He praises, his voice shaky from the fast thrusts. He pumps into her mouth at a steady pace as he grabs her throat and squeezes around his bulge smugly. He chuckles at the sight, loving the look of her bouncing on König’s dick as he uses her mouth as he pleases. “Good fucking girl. Taking my cock like the slutty puppy you are.” He says, landing a gentle smack on her cheek. He squeezes her throat again, making her gasp for air. He pulls out completely, letting her breathe before shoving himself as deep as can go again. He does this for a minute, pulling out and shoving himself back in, tiring her throat out. She was a drooling, crying mess, and he wouldn’t have her any other way. He feels the familiar tightening in his balls, his dick tensing with every thrust bringing him closer to the edge. He fucks her face a few more times before he lets himself fall. He moans loudly and lets out a powerful grunt as he paints her throat white with thick, hot ropes of cum. She feels the warmth of his seed travel down her throat, her eyes rolling back in her head as he keeps his cock down for a few seconds too long. His grip on her throat loosened, and he slowly pulled out from the walls of her windpipe, slick with her saliva and his cum. “Jesus.” He exclaims, out of breath from emptying his balls into her throat. “You’ve milked me dry, sweetheart.” He says, plopping himself onto the bed next to her. He reaches over and caresses her stomach as König continues drilling into her from underneath her.
König’s thrusts become sloppier, his cock starting to twitch inside of her. She notices his body tensing under her as he reaches his orgasm. “Scheiße, Scheiße!” He yells out. He roughly grabs her by the throat, squeezing her windpipe and causing her face to turn a deep red as she throws her head back. He buries his face in her neck, his face now a deep shade of red as he sweats and his muscles flex under her. His thrusts become slower, staying inside of her for a second longer before pushing into her again. He groans and whimpers in her ear, the gigantic killing machine of a man seemingly coming undone by the mere tightness of her pussy. “Such a sweet…tight fucking…cunt…Scheiße!” He continues, his cock twitching violently inside of her as he breeds her. She feels his hot seed filling her, slowly dripping down her walls as he pulls out of her, the tip swollen and sensitive. “God…you took me so well, my little liebe. So well.” He breathes, his breath hot on her cheek. He presses his forehead to hers, planting a soft kiss to her lips. He lingers on her mouth for a minute, catching his breath. They breathe heavily into each others mouths, eyes dancing between each others.
“So much for no favorites, aye L.t?” Soap says smugly, standing to his feet and slowly walking to his pile of clothes in front of her bed. She smiles at him, her brain still spent and thoughtless from the three cocks whose only intention was to ruin her. Ghost chuckles as he stands, grabbing his underwear and sliding them over his hips before lying back in bed next to her. König doesn’t bother getting up, and simply moves her next to him. She lied between the two giant men, her eyes fluttering closed as König and Ghost untucks the blanket from under her and placing it over her. She opens her eyes and looks over to Soap, standing at the edge of her bed in only his underwear. He crawls towards her and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“I’ll be taking your couch, lass. No space on here for poor old Soap!” He jokes, winking at her before leaving to the living room. Ghost reaches besides him and flicks the switch to the lamp besides them, engulfing the room in darkness. The only light from the yellow hued street lamps outside. König shuffles behind her, spooning her with his naked frame. He kisses her on the back of her neck, rubbing her back gently with his large hand. “Goodnight, dear. I’ve had the best time with you tonight” he says, his voice barely a whisper. She smiles as she backs up into his embrace in response to his soft praises. Ghost runs a thumb over her cheek as he lies on his back, and puts her hand in his. “Sleep well, love. You did great.” He purrs. In no time, the sweet embrace of sleep blanketed her senses.
**╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝**
She wakes to an empty bed, the smell of sex still permeating the room. She checked her clock on the nightstand. 12:42 PM, it read. She’d be screwed if she had work today, but her body had taken the rest it needed from being absolutely ruined by three giant soldiers last night. She smiled to herself, wishing to herself it hadn’t been a dream. She glanced at the hickies on her body, and noticed the soreness between her legs. She sat up, scanning her room. Her eyes caught a flash of a pink gift bag on the other side of her bed. She smiled as she took the bag in her hands. She took out the contents, a red hot blush spreading to her ears. The lacy bra and panty set sat softly in her fingers. She looked in the bag and saw a card, opening it to reveal the sloppiest handwriting she’d ever seen.
Forgive me for ripping your panties and bra, dear. Enjoy. -König
She knew she wasn’t supposed to chose favorites, but hell.
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28 "No one ever cared about me like you." for Joel or Marcus Pike, please?? Thank you for writing all this amazing stuff for us <3
no one can hurt you now
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
word count: ~1.2k
summary: You’ve been traveling through the country with Joel and Ellie. After finally arriving in the safety of Jackson, you realize how much Joel means to you.
tags/warnings: post outbreak, mentions of infected, fighting and blood, reader doesn’t value her life that much tbh, angst, anxiety, comfort, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n (please let me know if i missed something <3)
a/n: dearest anon, thank you so much for your kind words and for sending this prompt in! this started out as a drabble but got out of control, so i hope you enjoy this little fic 🫶🏻
dividers by @saradika-graphics who is amazing <3
full masterlist here / follow @guiltyasdavenotifs and turn on notifications for fic updates!
The clicker’s teeth snap at you inches away from your face, your arms straining desperately to hold the creature off. A shot rings through the air and the clicker stills as blood splatters across your face.
You push the now lifeless weight off of you and try to stand back up, your shaky legs underneath you barely cooperating.
“Thanks,” you mutter, gasping for breath.
“The fuck was that?” Joel barks, the gun still grasped so tightly in his hand that his knuckles are turning white.
“It was- running at Ellie, I just-“
You’ll admit that you hadn’t really thought it through when you lunged at the clicker that had charged in the girl’s direction without any weapons in your hands. Not her, had been the only clear thought in your head. She wasn’t replaceable.
You were.
“You just what? Thought you’d get yourself killed?”
“No! I don’t know, okay? I still bought us time, and you got it, so-”
You don’t like the way he’s glaring at you, like you did something fundamentally wrong. You took a risk, yes, but his main objective is taking the girl across the country. You’re just… there.
“So?! Fuckin’ stupid, is what it was,” he snaps before he turns around abruptly and stomps further into the abandoned house that you’re hoping to spend the night in. You wait until your legs finally stop trembling before you follow him.
It’s the middle of the night when Joel finally speaks to you again. You had settled down in one of the bedrooms on the upper floor, not before searching the house extra thoroughly after the clicker incident earlier.
You can hear Ellie’s soft snores from across the room and you would have sworn that Joel was asleep too. Your mind didn’t rest, replaying the scene over and over, the way Joel snapped at you making your chest hurt each time.
“You don’t get to not make yourself a priority, you hear me? I won’t let you.”
You flinch at the unexpected sound from his corner of the room, but his voice is gentle, like he’s approaching a scared animal.
“But Ellie-” you still try to protest.
“I care about Ellie just as much as you do.” He hesitates for a second. “But I also care about you.”
You feel heat flushing your cheeks and you avert your gaze, even though it’s too dark for him to see your face anyway.
“You shouldn’t,” you mutter, “she’s the one that matters.”
“So do you,” he grumbles.
“Not like her.”
He heaves a sigh and you hear him moving closer to you in the darkness.
“Listen to me.” His tone is gruff, but you can feel the intensity behind his words. “I couldn’t- shit, I couldn’t do this alone. Just take care of yourself. Don’t be stupid. Okay?”
“Okay,” you agree in a hushed voice.
You know that this is the closest that Joel Miller will ever get to admitting that he doesn’t hate you. You try to fight the feeling, but warmth is spreading through your chest at the thought that he actually wants you around, that he’s not just letting you tag along because he doesn’t know what else to do with you.
It’s your first real night in Jackson, the first time that you’ve arrived at a place and didn’t immediately make plans on where to go next. The first night that you’re spending in a real bed in god knows how long. The first night that you don’t have to sleep with one eye open, always waiting for the next danger to find you.
And the first night in a bed with Joel. Neither of you had protested when you were assigned to one house with him and Ellie. You know what Joel and you look like, from the outside. You don’t think that you care, not really.
The house has three bedrooms anyway, so it didn’t matter. At least that’s what you thought, until you had all said good night to each other and you were lying alone in the darkness, wide eyes staring up at the dark ceiling, as you were trying to stop the anxious shivers running through your body.
It was too quiet, the mattress too soft, the room too… empty. You had gotten used to the steady breathing of two other people around you, and now that they weren’t in the room with you, everything felt wrong. What if you woke up tomorrow to find them both dead, to find yourself alone in the world once more? How were you supposed to make sure they were safe when you weren’t with them?
Before you could overthink it, you got up, checked on Ellie who was sleeping soundly and padded over to the room Joel was in.
“Can’t sleep?” his low drawl had greeted you as soon as you cracked the door open.
You wordlessly shook your head and he sighed.
“Me neither. Doesn’t feel right like this, does it?”
That’s how you ended up under the covers next to him. No touching of course, both of you keeping a firm distance. This was just so you could both catch some sleep. Just for tonight.
Except that you’re still not able to let sleep drag you under. Your body is tense, acutely aware of his presence next to you, his body heat easily traveling the short distance between you. You could bridge it just as easily, just reach your hand out to - do what, exactly?
You huff out a breath and turn onto your side, shuffling the sheets with your movement.
“What’s wrong?”
His voice is barely above a whisper and before you can open your mouth to respond, his fingers find your face and graze over your cheek in a barely there contact.
He had touched you before, of course, checking you for injuries, soothing you with a hand on your arm or a brush over your hair, but never like this. Never in the darkness of the night and never when you could sense the tension in the air between you, could almost feel his breath on your face. You have never been so acutely aware of the warmth of his fingers that’s seeping into your skin right now.
“I just- I never thanked you for taking me here, for taking care of me.”
It’s not what’s on the forefront of your mind, not the thing that’s plaguing you in this moment, but it’s still true, and much easier than admitting to him that feeling his body so close right next to yours has you practically burning up, has your fingers itching to touch him, to breathe him in.
Joel hums.
“You don’t have to. Of course I did that.”
You try swallowing the lump that suddenly builds in your throat.
“No one ever cared about me like you,” you admit in a whisper.
“Hey,” Joel mumbles, alarmed at the thickness of unshed tears in your voice, “come here, sweetheart.”
Both of his arms reach towards you and his hands splay over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. His warmth engulfs you and you feel the tension in your body subsiding as you’re resting your head over his steady heartbeat.
“We’re safe now,” he whispers into your hair. “I’ll always keep you safe.”
if you liked this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging - nothing would make me happier 🤍
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