#had to get this out it drives me up the wall every time

[shomatoriashi]

11/23/24; 11:00am

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ soft intimacy with them ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the way you seemed to fit so perfectly around sylus (like a missing puzzle piece) was enough to drive the onychinus leader insane.

air rushes out from his lungs the moment he parts your legs, basking in your needy, tear filled gaze and the way your naked breast heaves with each breath that you take. sylus’s eyes never once look away from yours the moment he guides his cock toward your entrance.

with his heart pounding, he allows the mushroom tip of his cock to gently trace at your outer lips, collecting the droplets of your arousal while letting out a grunt of your name.

“kitten, you don’t know just how good you feel around me… i don’t need to sink into you to know that you are nothing short of divine, my love.” sylus speaks to you in reverent tones, choosing to slide his shaft up and down your silken walls without fully impaling you. your breathy moans and the way you arch your back against the bed was an utterly beautiful sight for him.

“sy, please- don’t tease me anymore, i-it hurts.”

he hums while giving you a smirk, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss all while whispering, “as you wish, kitten.”

with those final words, sylus allows every inch of his cock to sink into you, allowing your cries to echo in his ear when he lazily made love to you. his pace was uncharacteristically slow, and he made sure to thoroughly worship you.

each thrust was coupled with lips pressed against the side of your neck-

when his cock would inevitably slide out of you, sylus made sure you would feel the intensity of his kiss right before slotting his cock back within your silken walls, ensuring that you were filled to the brim with him.

but even with all of his displays of passion set out for you, his pace neither slowed or quickened, choosing a steady pace all while basking in your sweet moans and cries of his name-

as if sylus had all the time in the world when it came to pleasuring you.

zayne always prided himself on being a humble man with simple needs-

and what he wanted the most in the world was to see you happy. after all, he believed his sole goal was to always please you through any means possible.

which was what lead him to his current… predicament.

you had complaints about your job and how you felt so overworked. along with such complaints, zayne heard you made a comment on how your back was hurting from sitting at your desk for too long as well. when he offers to prepare a hot bath for you, he basks in your sweet smile and the way you asked “will you keep me company, too?’

and truly, who was he to deny you of your needs?

after preparing your bath, zayne helps with taking off your clothes before joining you. he basks in the beauty of you, hands never once straying too far away from you as he helped with cleansing you, lathering your favorite scented body wash all across your skin-

yet suddenly, his intimate act of wishing to bathe you quickly turns into you bouncing up and down his cock, your hair a tangled mess as the water began splashing out of the tub and onto the linoleum floors.

zayne found himself getting drunk off the pleasure, hands gripping at your naked hips the moment you kept moving your slick heat up and down the entire length of him. your breathless moans we’re driving the doctor insane as he lost all of his senses-

giving the entirety of himself to you.

so lost in his own pleasure, zayne began to meet your bouncing movements with his own upward thrusts, causing you to see stars as you arched your back against him, unable to keep up with his movements.

“hah… zayne-“

your lover cuts you off, harshly bringing your head down to meet his lips in a searing kiss all while basking in the way your silken walls continued to grip at his cock-

as if you would never let him go.

“please, will you let me take control tonight?”

xavier’s sweet voice whispers in your ear, making you weak as you managed to give him a gentle nod. here you were, both naked as you prepared for yet another intimate night with your boyfriend. when he asks you for permission to ‘take control,’ your heart turns warm, knowing that he just wanted to have your consent.

with your heart racing with anticipation, you felt your breath hitch the moment he trails kisses against your skin. his lips linger on the base of your throat before traveling down your form. he stops for a few beats against the side of your neck while lifting his hand to give one of your breasts a gentle squeeze.

the sensation was enough to make your back arch on the bed. xavier’s smile was felt slowly spreading against your skin as he descended his lips even further down your body-

before landing directly against your chest.

curious eyes made darkened by sheer desire for you takes in the sight of your breast, with his hands reaching up to give your hardened nipples a gentle pinch. your sharp inhale sounded so cute to him that he wanted to elicit even more of those sounds from you.

he lowers his head, placing his mouth directly over one of your heaving breast. as he allowed his tongue to curl around your hardened nub, he uses his free hand to descend toward the spot between your legs. the sensation of his hot mouth on your chest and the way his fingertips pinched and prods at your clit was enough to have you gasping for him, growing needier for the young hunter within mere seconds.

xavier continues his gentle ministrations on your form, making you release so many times that you lost count of it all throughout the night. even when your body was covered in a light sheen of sweat, you felt all of your prior thoughts pertaining to how exhausted you were disappear into thin air the moment xavier slides his cock within your slick heat.

“hah…” sweat was seen running down xavier’s face while he bites down on his bottom lip. his thrusts became sloppy, yet it was evident on just how long he had been holding back just for you. knowing that he felt the relief he needed the moment he sinks into you, you wrap your legs around his waist, allowing his cock to reach even deeper inside of you to help with easing his desperation for you.

rafayel’s playful yet cocky voice were all you could hear the moment he traps you against the bed. his angelic smile was painted with mischief when he suddenly thrusts his cock within your entrance, completely sheathing himself as you gasped in response to his sudden intrusion.

he was just so deep inside of you that you swore you could feel him at the base of your throat. as you tried to focus on anything that wasn’t his cock, rafayel continues to smile down at you all while running the back of his hand against the side of your cheek in an achingly gentle manner. and while you admitted that you enjoyed basking in his beauty, there was just one tiny little problem-

the lemurian wasn’t moving.

even with his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, his hips remained ever so still, all while acting like he was carrying on a simple conversation with you-

and it was driving you mad.

your gasps and pants for air echo across the room when you attempt to move your hips and feel some amount of friction-

only to be stopped by rafayel when he uses his hands to grip at your waist, preventing you from moving any further.

“rafayel, i swear if you don’t start moving i will claw your eyes out.” you manage to pitifully hiss at him as tears of frustration were seen against your eyes. with a soft coo of your name, a thoughtful expression paints lover’s face, “hm…? am i being threatened? ah… perhaps-“

he cuts himself off, sliding his cock out of your aching cunt until only the tip was settled at your entrance before slamming back into you. his eyes remained sweet as his pace slowly became faster and faster each time he returned back to you.

“this should be enough for me to avoid punishment, right?” even though his words were cocky, the way his eyebrows remained furrowed as he fucked you into the bed was more than enough proof that he was holding back from climaxing too soon.

realizing now that you always had the upper hand, you lean up to press a kiss against the lobe of his ear, earning a breathy whine from him when you bite down against his skin. “aw… you talk big, but i bet it’s taking you all your effort to not cum right now.”

“tch- fuck…!” your words succeed in making him still his hips, his hands already gripping at your backside when he settles you directly on his lap, choosing instead to make love to you in this new position. being forced to bite back your own words, you were given little choice but to steady yourself on his broad shoulders, struggling to hide your moans as well.

“heh… looks like i finally got the upper hand.” rafayel admits to you while burying his face within the base of your throat, giving your skin a languid lick with his tongue, “after all, it’s about damn time i got my princess wrapped around my fingers instead of the other way around.”

and truthfully, damn him for being correct.

end notes: it’s been a week since my last lads thirst post? let’s change that since writing helps me destress 🫠 especially when i need a serotonin boost after the stress of this week.

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[ego13]

LET ME IN YOUR OCEAN – YU JIMIN

now playing : chase atlantic - swim

SYNOPSIS : your mafia girl loves it too much when you bring her lunch to work (in fact, she doesn’t mind fucking you on her desk either.)

warnings : mafia!jimin, lesbian sex, service top!jimin, praise kink, hickeys, fingering sex in public places, pet names (princess, good girl, kitty).

pairing : yu jimin x fem!reader

you? oh, her favourite baby-girl, damn, jimin loves her girl too much, she loves to pamper you incredibly, because if this comes up in conversation, then yu does not hesitate to spend several million a day on her princess. expensive prada dresses, diamond necklaces and rings are what you literally swim in, bouquets of flowers, romantic dinners and then night walks in a black porsche with jimin - your daily routine, her hand on your thigh as you both silently drive through Seoul at night listening to your favorite playlist, during such moments it always seemed to you that there were only you two left in the world, and no one else

and if her girl wants it, jimin will buy the whole world for her, as long as it’s really just the two of you.

when you first saw her in the casino, you would never have thought that a cold-blooded member of the mafia could be such a gentle romantic, whose words always made your knees weak. one of the nicest things was that she was so close to you, she didn’t allow anyone to see her as tender except her princess, because you were the only one who truly deserved it. and the only downside of all this was the fact that she was often busy, although in a very interesting way she always made up for her guilt to you. a romantic dinner, another necklace and wonderful sex right against the wall in the hallway of your mansion is probably the best way for her to made it up.

waking up after another such evening, you realized that jimin was not next to him in bed, which made you slightly upset, after all, your desire to wake up in her arms, spending the whole morning sleepily hugging, alas, was cut short. you stretched, rubbing your eyes sleepily, reaching over to the bedside table and taking your phone off the charger, having unblocked it, the first thing you did was go into chat with yu, realizing that she didn’t even write about where and why it would be so early in the morning.

you : jiminnie? no good mornings? :(

you : i hope that you really have something important, because depriving me of morning hugs and breakfast in bed is a crime

just as you were about to get out of bed, several notifications came to your phone, and seeing the messages from yu, your face broke into a sleepy smile.

jim💘 : so sorry, princess, had to leave early, important meeting.

jim💘 : you know that i love you, princess?

jim💘 : i would never leave my precious girl without cuddles and kisses without reason.

jim💘 : i’ll be home in the evening, afterwards, expensive champagne and a delicious dinner, perhaps even a continuation in the bedroom, or in the kitchen, if I can’t restrain myself. i love u.

after reading the messages, you were mentally preparing for the upcoming evening, fuck, she knew exactly all your weak points, and knew where to hit so that you wouldn’t get angry. getting out of bed, you stretched again along the way, going into the kitchen, wanting to drink a glass of water, you noticed that you forgot to take lunch with you, which you carefully make every evening. a small pink lunchbox with hello kitty and a small love note is what jimin put in her black leather bag, and it made her heart beat faster every time.

you were a little upset, but you could put up with it, considering how flighty jimin can be sometimes, so you once again got excited about the idea of ​​going to her office to give lunch for her forgetful girlfriend. quickly getting dressed, you called the personal driver whom yu hired with the words 'my princess will not walk several kilometers on the asphalt every time with her beautiful legs so give me the most skilled driver'. the road was quite fast, and upon entering the large building, one of the bodyguards let you inside with a warm smile, personally escorting you to jimin's office.

knocking on the door several times, you opened it, seeing how she carefully rummages through documents in her damn sexy glasses, the way she looked made you turn into a waterfall every time you saw her. finally looking up from the papers, she smiled brightly, seeing her beloved girl.

"princess," getting up from the table, she took off her glasses and put them aside, she came closer to you, seeing a pink lunch box in your hands, "damn, I'm too forgetful and forgot my girl's lunch..." she awkwardly scratched the back of her head, taking it from your hands, placing it on the table, returning her gaze to you as her hands found their way to your hips, "you didn't have to drive halfway across town to see me, sweetheart, but I really fucking appreciate it, kitty..."

her lips carefully approached hers as your noses touched each other, finally pulling you into a slow and loving kiss, deepening the kiss, yu buried her head in the hair at the back of her head with one hand, and touched tour waist with the other hand. you hummed right into the kiss as she picked you up, moving her hands to her hips, and sat her on the table, settling between your legs. having stopped tormenting your lips, she lowered herself to your neck, while her free hand lifted your skirt, getting under your underwear, jimin began to slowly stimulate your clit, making circular movements, carefully watching your expression, searching for any hint of discomfort, “good girl... already so wet for me?"

your body kept shaking, and the thighs tried to close, but yu was standing between them, and did not allow this to happen. your hands fell on her shoulders, you pulled her closer, so close that ypu pressed herself against her, resting your head on her shoulder, her free hand nuzzled your thigh until her fingers finally slid inside you, causing you to let out a loud whine that was like honey to her ears, "just like that, you're doing so well, kitty, it feels like you were created for me to be inside you..."

yu's lips kissed your skin from your neck down, reaching the collarbones and leaving several purple marks there, again fell to her beloved neck, without ceasing to work with her fingers and feeling how your body began to tremble.

she felt with her fingers how the walls tightened around her fingers, enveloping and sucking, and in the next second a languid cry flew from your lips, which made her instinctively squeeze your waist tighter, not allowing you to fall off the table, on the contrary, helping you sit more comfortably, kissing your neck soothingly, enjoying the sight of the purple marks on your milky skin, "everything is fine, princess, my good girl..."

finally moving away from your neck, her hand combed the fallen strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling, she liked seeing you like this too much, all excited, trembling from orgasm, while your hair stuck to your forehead and barely visible drops of sweat flowed from your temple.

"you know, after such a “lunch”, I’m no longer as hungry as before your arrival, you can come to me more often, I’ll be all for it."

[russo-woso]

Wicked || Leah Williamson x actress!reader

Masterlist | Prompt list

Summary You spent hours practicing songs, Leah having to deal with it all but as soon as she saw it all come to life on the big screen, all she felt was pride

A/N I saw wicked today and immediately thought of this idea

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It's time to try defying gravity

I think I'll try defying gravity

And you can't pull me down

You sang the words with emotion, practicing the scene and lyrics like you were filming then and there.

But instead of in a studio practicing, you were at home, scrubbing a frying pan because you’d burnt it.

You were playing the role of Elphaba in the new and upcoming movie ‘wicked’.

It was a breakthrough role for you, due to being a relatively new actress so you had to be perfect. Hence why you were practicing with every free minute you had.

There was one song though that you’d been dreading, defying gravity.

It was slightly out of your vocal range but you were determined to nail it.

So because of your determination, you were singing it fifty times a day

Which was admittedly, helping you, but it was also driving your girlfriend up the wall.

Leah had always been your biggest supporter, helping you practice lines or lyrics but this time, the non stop singing was driving her crazy.

She understood though, and each time you sang it, a small smile would appear on her face.

“How was that, baby? Did I hit the note?” You asked Leah, who walked into the kitchen.

“You were perfect, darling. You always were with the song and even more so now. So can you please stop singing it?” Leah said, walking behind you’d wrapping her arms round your waist and resting her head on your shoulder.

“I have to sing it, Le. I have to get it perfect. Now, sing it with me.” You said, a grin appearing on Leah’s face as you belted out the song.

I'd sooner buy defying gravity

Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity

And you can't pull me down

Leah just watched you in amazement, your voice sounding angelic.

“Darling, that’s the thirty seventh time you’ve sung it today. Don’t you think that’s enough?” Leah asked

“Fine. Anyway, my throats hurting a bit now.” You said, Leah laughing in response.

“I’m not surprised.”

—

It had been three days since then and you had flown out to America to film the final few scenes of the film, including the song defying gravity.

You and Ariana finished the final notes, the whole set silent, every single crew member speechless and mesmerised at the song.

It was incredible, even you could admit it.

The movie was officially over, it was all done and wrapped.

You flew back to England the following day, Leah welcoming you with open arms, whispering how proud she was.

Now, it was time for waiting.

—

It wad finally happening. The premiere.

Your leg bounce up and down on the taxi floor.

“Darling, it’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna do perfect, I know it. Everyone’s gonna love the film.” Leah said before pressing her lips to your temple. “I’m gonna be with you the whole time too.”

“I love you, Le.”

“I love you more, pretty girl. Now come, the crowds waiting.” Leah grinned, opening the car door and holding it for you to get out.

You stepped on the red green carpet, the press calling your name, telling you to look at them.

You gripped Leah’s hand, Leah squeezing yours in return, the two of you doing simple poses for the cameras.

You made your way inside, calming down a bit.

You had a few conversations with cast and crew members before finally taking your seats, the lights dimmed and the screen lit up.

Leah was already so proud even before defying gravity but my god, she was overwhelmed with pride.

You sang the words effortlessly, hitting the notes you’d spent weeks working on perfectly.

Tears shelled in Leah’s eyes as she watched you on the screen, her emotions getting to her.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” You whispered quietly, wiping her tears.

“I’m just so proud of you.” Leah sobbed

You just pressed your lips to her cheek in response.

The credits started rolling, cheers filling the room.

The director of the film quickly said a few words before calling you and Ariana up to say a few too.

Ariana went first, before handing the mic to you.

“Firstly, I just want to say thank you to the crew members, without you the magic wouldn’t be able to come alive. Ariana, a big thank you to you. You made the god awful night scenes speed by. However The biggest thank you goes to someone who’s been with me for my when career. Leah, you have had to endure the torture of hearing me belt song after song for weeks. Thank you, Le. Anyway, enough of the tears now. Let’s get the after party started!”

“I know you said no more tears, but I can’t help it. I’m just so so proud of you.” Leah said, wrapping you in her arms.

“Thank you, baby. Thank you for everything over the past few months.”

“Don’t say thank you. Now, do you feel like going to the after party?” Leah asked, a smirk on her face.

“Why? Have something else in mind?”

“Maybe…”

[setthishouseablaze]

Cassandra X Mad Woman X IDSB - lyrics

I was in my new house placing daydreams Patching up the crack along the wall I pass it and lose track of what I'm saying 'Cause that's where I was when I got the call

When the first stone's thrown there's screamin' In the streets there's a ragin' riot When it's, "Burn the bitch", they're shrieking When the truth comes out it's quiet

So they killed Cassandra first Coz she feared the worst And tried to tell the town So they filled my cell with snakes, I regret to say Do you believe me now?

Do you believe me now?

What did you think I'd say to that? Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? They strike to kill and you know I will You know I will

What do you sing on your drive home? Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? Does she smile? Or does she mouth, "Fuck you forever"?

Coz every time you call me crazy I get more crazy What about that? And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry And there's nothing like a mad woman What a shame she went mad No one likes a mad woman You made her like that And you'll poke that bear 'til her claws come out And you find something to wrap your noose around And there's nothing like a mad woman

They knew, they knew, they knew the whole time That I was onto somethin' The family, the pure greed, the Christian chorus line They all said nothin'

Blood's thick, but nothin' like a payroll Bet they never spared a prayer for my soul You can mark my words that I said it first With a mourning warning no one heard

So I'm taking my time Taking my time 'Cause you took everything from me Watching you climb Watching you climb Over people like me The master of spin Has a couple side flings Good wives always know She should be mad Should be scathing like me But no one likes a mad woman What a shame she went mad

You made her like that

What a shame she went mad

They say I did something bad

They say I did something bad oh Then why's it feel so good? They say I did something bad But why's it feel so good? Most fun I ever had And I'd do it over and over and over again if I could It just felt so good, good

Why's it feel so good? Oh I did something bad

Why's it feel so good? Most fun I ever had most fun I ever had And I'd do it over and over and over again if I could It just felt so good, good

They knew, they knew, they knew the whole time I was onto somethin' They all said nothin' Blood's thick, but nothin' like a payroll Bet they never spared a prayer for my soul You can mark my words, I said it first With a mourning warning no one heard

They say I did something bad oh So why's it feel so good? good.

You can mark my words. I said it first. Do you believe me now? Do you believe me now? What a shame she went mad Do you believe me now?

They say I did something bad Do you believe me now? What a shame she went mad Do you believe me now? They say I did something bad

When the first stone's thrown there's screamin' In the streets there's a ragin' riot When it's, "Burn the bitch", they're shrieking When the truth comes out it's quiet

[mocultation]

CHROMATIC                                  NANAMI KENTO

warnings: mature content. oral (f. receiving). odd descriptions of sex positions.

small note: it's great to finally get back to writing something. have fun reading! reblogs are highly appreciated.

what artist hasn’t lost their mind during the genesis of their chef-d'oeuvre?

it was far through the evening when you have begun making your ‘sketch’⸻your fingers tracing over the sharp lines of fair-skinned man that was pressing his lips against yours with a form of yearning that could only be described as sweltering while he brought you down onto the softness of the mattress. this little ‘association’ was something you hadn’t expected to flourish in such a matter, truly. it was just some mindless flirting at first! a little quip here and there! how were you supposed to know that it was going to drive the guy against the wall? that it was making his hands itch to pull all of those pesky clothes you had on your body and show off the smooth skin you had hidden beneath the cloth. to let his tongue and lips make their path on your figure for the umpteenth time.

 “what’s with the silence, huh? usually you love being a pain,（name）.” the warmth of his breath tickled your mouth, making the situation even more wonderfully frustrating. there was a subtle restraint lingering on his fingertips as he traced a path of fire onto the flesh of your body, causing you to arch into his touch. sparking every nerve and dragging out quiet gasps from deep within⸺resulting in you carving all the more of his temporary affection as the greedy person you knew you were. the kind of dame he reluctantly welcomes in his arms for a passionate dance beneath the sheets. just to move your separate ways once the sun makes its unveiling once again. a part of him secretly hoped that the cycle would never stop, that it would simply keep repeating itself. again and again and again and again. “tired of running your mouth?” “me? of all the times we've met, please don't tell me that it troubles you now.”

next was the ‘form’ of this masterpiece; as you were placed on your back, his hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and raised them up, and there was that tension in his eyes, and the damp patch on the thin fabric of your underwear got prominently bigger. while the heat in your belly increased, he leaned over to kiss you on the ankles, which was a little more chaste than the nature of this interaction. every one of his smooches had a certain intimacy to them, a delicate touch that relaxed and thrilled you at the same time, leaving you temporarily gasping for air as you enjoyed the delicacy of the moment. the trail of his kisses only lowered down as with his other hand he had pulled away the thin barrier that kept your cunt and him away from each other. the cold air caused it to soaken itself even more while your breath intake was shortening itself—not from fear but unadulterated exhilaration. “but i must say that you are quite the talented one with your—” yet your words had fallen flat on his ear once you felt his lips collide with your drenched folds in an instant. “fuck!” the variety of actions his tongue delivered against your clit and weeping folds were making you see all kinds of pleasant colors; the vibrations of his endeavors throughout his attempt made your toes curl with excitement. 

sweat droplets were collecting over your forehead with every lick he put on your cunt⸺withdrawing the sweetest melodies from your throat. he was making it obvious to you that he was ravenous for the depth that your pussy was generating; the intensity of your ambrosia was something he could grow addicted to. perhaps he already was. the juices were drooling down from his chin as he redoubled his efforts on pushing you off the edge you were dangling from: “oh god! i..i think i might—!” with a blurry vision, a certain ‘cord’ snapped. with that followed a moan from your lips⸺so loud and so overly hedonistic. it snapped him right out of his debauched actions, but only for a moment as he felt the success of his conduct gush down on his mouth, shamelessly, almost smugly taking it down his throat before he lifted his head from your crotch and made eye contact. “…is the idea of a second round off the table?” 

shading, giving a painting depth⸺blasé blasé. it was the coloring process that you were genuinely interested in. 

“fucking hell you are so soaked,” he moans against your neck as another burgundy-colored mark on your neck. it was the kind of paradise that only nanami could provide—the constant thrusting of his hips against your own. your inner walls had his cock on lock, melting due to the position you were in; from your legs positioned upward like a tower, the two of you were now spooning with him, and your leg bent over his thigh and your back facing his hard chest. his mushroom tip was bullying the depth of your cunt, whereas you proudly spread your legs apart to welcome its brute force. while he resumed an excellent pace, just to add on the anguish his fingers were making quite the mess on the sheets beneath your body. adding circular movements to your pulsing clit. the squelching sounds from your pussy reverberated off the wall, working overtime as it was coated with the creamy pre-cum on the outside. constructing an illicit portrayal.

his meaty dick sliding in and out of you with such fervour. “ngh—! don’t you dare stop now. mmpf!” his balls, drenched by your juices at this point, churned by your wanton demand. slapping over and over again onto your ass. by this time, both of your bodies are bathed in a sheen of sweat, and the bed's squeaking has been  reduced to plain white noise. he had you stretched all the way out to your limit, and in return, you were making sure that the man would prefer to never leave your sopping hole. “look at you. you love taking my dick so deep, don’t you?” each word gained emphasis by a deep thrust. “you’re going to be very good and finish with me, uh-huh?” nanami's ears began to race with blood as soon as he said those words. a snarl echoed at the back of his neck as he pressed your lips against his for an additional time. your breaths merged into one, your pants becoming heavier as the forceful gush of cum plunged straight down to the lowest point of your womb. as he overflows your cunt, his balls quiver and convulse to extract every last drop of his spunk. it resulted in you following soon with your own final act for the night. when your body finally decided it was time for a well-earned slumber, your eyes slowly rolled back to your head.

©mocultation

[dissapointu]

would you make a jinx x reader story bonding over arcades or video games? awesome fan fics, sorry if its a big ask :))

Game Over, Not Yet (jinx x reader)

The neon lights of the arcade flickered in a way that felt almost alive, buzzing with energy. The clanking of buttons, the bright screens, and the constant whir of machines set the perfect backdrop for a night with Jinx. You had both managed to sneak into one of the less-populated corners of the undercity’s old arcade, where faded posters of games long forgotten still hung on the walls.

Jinx’s eyes sparkled as she bounced from one machine to the next, her chaotic energy making it clear she was in her element. “Ooh, look at this one!” she squealed, practically dragging you over to an old-school fighting game. Her excitement was infectious.

“You ready to get your butt kicked, [Y/N]?” she asked, a playful challenge in her voice as she slapped the joystick with one hand.

Rolling your eyes, you grinned. “Not even close, Jinx. This is my game.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it!” she shot back, hands already gripping the controller with lightning speed, her fingers moving like she was born to do this.

You both took your spots, facing off on the screen, each of you controlling characters in a cartoonish, over-the-top street brawler game. The sound effects were loud, the music a steady rhythm of 8-bit melodies that sent you both into fits of laughter every time something absurd happened.

As the match started, Jinx leaned in closer, her concentration a little more intense than usual. You could see the way her face lit up every time her character landed a hit. She was so alive when she was playing, fully immersed in the world of digital battles and impossible stunts. Her chaotic nature blended with the game’s exaggerated violence, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to disappear except the two of you.

But then, with one swift move, you launched a special attack, knocking her character out of the ring. “Game over!” you teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.

“NO WAY!” Jinx gasped, hands flying up in exaggerated disbelief. “This is rigged!” she pouted dramatically, crossing her arms as she huffed.

You laughed, grabbing a nearby soda can. “Told you I’d win.”

She shot you a sideways grin, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you have this round. But next time? You’re toast.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, it’s definitely a challenge,” Jinx said with a grin that could rival a wolf’s. “But first, you’ve gotta beat me in this one.”

She dragged you to the next machine—a vintage racing game, the kind where you had to hold onto the steering wheel, pretending you were driving a car in a way that felt far too real for a video game.

You took your place, and Jinx straddled the seat next to you, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Ready to lose, again?”

“You really think so?” you shot back, narrowing your eyes playfully.

Jinx laughed, her fingers already poised over the buttons. “Oh, it’s not that you’re gonna lose… it’s how badly you’re gonna lose.” Her laugh was loud and filled with uncontainable joy. As soon as the game started, she slammed her foot onto the pedal with enthusiasm, her laugh echoing through the room.

You both raced through the track, your hands working fast on the steering wheel, trying to dodge obstacles and speed ahead. Every time you pulled off a smooth turn, you could hear Jinx’s delighted cheer behind you, her voice becoming more and more wild as she pushed for that win.

The game’s final lap arrived, and you both were neck and neck. You could feel Jinx’s competitive spirit heating up beside you, her body practically vibrating with energy. Her face was a mixture of fierce determination and excitement, her hair falling messily over her shoulders as she leaned forward, urging her digital car to go faster.

Just as you neared the finish line, Jinx threw one last move, sending her car rocketing past yours and claiming victory with a dramatic screech of tires. “HA! I WIN AGAIN!”

You groaned, slumping in your seat, but the smile on your face didn’t disappear. “You’re impossible.”

Jinx threw her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a quick side hug. “You love it,” she said, her voice softer now, but no less playful. “But hey, you did pretty good. Maybe next time?”

You chuckled, the sound of your laughter mixing with the hum of the arcade around you. “Yeah, maybe next time. I’ll be ready.”

As you both sat there for a moment, catching your breath and enjoying the afterglow of the game, you realized something. You didn’t need to win to have fun with Jinx. The moments you spent together, the chaos, the laughter—it was all you needed. And for her, it was the same. In her eyes, it wasn’t about winning. It was about being with you.

“Hey, [Y/N]…” Jinx’s voice broke through your thoughts. She leaned over, brushing some of your hair out of your face with a soft hand, a rare moment of tenderness.

“Yeah?”

“I think we make a pretty good team.”

You smiled at her, the connection between the two of you felt deeper than any high score could measure. “I think so, too.”

And with that, you both returned to the arcade machines, ready for the next round, knowing that whatever happened, you were in this together.

[doomtrooper77]

I've got a story to accompany this image. You can read it below. It is not a cute romantic story; it is more like my images. So, if that is not your thing, skip the story. If you do, let me know what you think of it.

Wrong Side of the Tracks

I had been in the bar for an hour already. It was one of those places off the beaten track where everyone went from what some would call the wrong side of the tracks. Mind you, this place wasn’t rundown. It just wasn’t fancy. The long wooden bar was polished, and the stools were worn but comfortable. Booths lined the wall opposite the bar. In the back of the bar were some big couches and chairs in an open area. Every seating surface was made of that old-school leather that got patina but never grew thin, never ripped. It was all cushioned just right for sitting and drinking the night away. Behind the bar was bottle after bottle of every liquor you could think of. Cases full of bottles of beer and more than a few on tap. However, don’t come in asking for some fancy new-fangled Microbrew bullshit. This wasn’t that kind of place.

Most people who came here were working-class people who came in for drinks and bar food. People who worked with their hands or on their feet all day. You had some white-collar folks sprinkled in, but mostly people who grew up in the neighborhood who managed to get a job downtown but still came back to visit friends and family in the area. That’s not to say it also didn’t have more seedier visitors. It was also a place where locals on the "wrong" side of the law congregated. Depending on the day of the week and the time, there was little you couldn’t find here if you knew the right person to ask.

You need a loan. There was a table in the back where some gentlemen of Italian persuasion sat most days. They were happy to give you some money for a hefty fee. If you needed something to bring you up or down, there was usually someone you could talk to to provide you with whatever you needed. But they couldn’t sell it in the bar. Business of that sort was not allowed in the bar; discussing it was different. If you needed someone’s leg broken, there was someone who you could talk to about that.

The bar was situated behind several warehouses and buildings in an old light industrial part of the city. You had to know where it was to find it and drive a maze of access roads and streets to find it. The bar had an address but didn’t appear on Waze or Google Maps.  The lot was big enough for everything from Harleys to big rigs.  The lot is dim, with most of the light coming from other businesses outside its perimeter.

I was on my 3rd beer when I heard the Harley outside. It was cold in the Midwest in November, but the hardcore bikers rode in the cold air. I was sitting midway down the bar when the door opened, and the crowd started parting. People quickly moved aside, even to the point where they pressed against others to get out of the way of the approaching figure. I got a glimpse of him just as he passed. I thought, “Jesus, he's gotten even bigger!”  He walked past, and you could feel his aura move with him. Predator. It was the only way to describe it. Some construction workers were drinking a few feet down, and one of the bigger guys either didn’t see him coming or had decided he was the alpha in the room. The biker didn’t change his step; his massive shoulders plowed through the big construction worker, pushing him into his buddies and spilling his beer down his shirt.

“Hey FUCK WAD, watch where you’re going!” The big construction worker said. He was big, about 6’5, and easily 280-290 solid pounds. You can tell he was used to being the big guy in the room. The area around them quieted as the biker turned around and took two steps back. I got a good look at him then. He was about 6’2, so shorter than the construction worker. However, everything else about the biker made the construction worker seem small. He had actual doorway-wide shoulders.  Arms are truly as thick as a healthy man's leg. Massive pecs encased under the leather vest. His lats push his massive arms away from his body at a freaking 45-degree angle. A neck so massive that it seemed like his huge shoulders just met his head somehow.  The part of my brain that was pretty damn good at calculating a man's size and weight told me at least 375 actual pounds.

One of the construction workers whispered “shit” as he pulled on his friend's arm. The bigger construction worker was wiping beer from his shirt and shook his friend's arm off as he looked up. Both men’s eyes met, and something happened. Guys know the feeling when you are in a situation where you quickly find out that you are not the alpha in the room. The biker took another step forward and pushed his chest into that of the construction worker. The biker tilted his head to that angle some guys do when trying to figure out how badly they will hurt someone. Not if, but how much. Everything around them quieted and stopped.

I could only see part of the construction workers' faces, but I could see the anger drain quickly away to be replaced by fear.  The Biker saw it and stepped into him more, pushing him back on his friends. Something like a wave of heat seemed to pass over me, and I could feel the raw dominance coming off that biker. It was like being on the edge of a violent storm. You can feel the air pressure change and smell the lightning as it crashes just feet away. Or it is like being on the edge of a vast forest fire, watching a fire tornado spin feet away and your skin both dry and slick with sweat simultaneously.

I felt my balls shrink up and throb at the same time.  “Sorry. Sorry.. man, I’m sorry,” the Big Construction worker was saying. No longer meeting the biker’s gaze, he said, “Sorry I bumped into ya. My fault. Sorry, sorry.”  The Biker stayed crowded in his space for another 15 seconds, stepped back, and looked at the construction workers' buddies, who all looked away. He turned to walk to the back of the bar to the area where the couches and chairs were. There was a dangerous and knowing smirk on his face.

Within seconds, the bar's sounds returned to normal, and people moved on as if nothing had happened—except for the construction workers. Those guys threw money on the bar, paid their tab, and quickly left.

However, I was now intrigued—no, make that obsessed—with the monster in the back of the bar. Over the next hour, I made my way down the bar toward the back of the room. I could see he was sitting with several other bikers and rough-looking men. I couldn’t hear what they were discussing but could see them on the sly. He filled one of the club chairs, his mass covering it completely. He wore this leather vest, black jeans, and big black harness boots. Out of the group, he talked the least.

A couple in the booth was just on the edge of the sitting area, which had a perfect view.  They left when I almost convinced myself that my little spy game had gone as far as it should. Before they could get two steps away from the booth, I slid into it. The waitress came over, and I got another beer.  I took out my phone and pretended to be scrolling on it while I was sneaking peaks at the monster. My cock was so hard in my pants that I had to squirm around a bit to give it room.  Knowing I might never see this guy again, I discreetly turned on my camera and videoed him. I kept making gestures like I was scrolling and typing, but I was filming his every twitch and flex.

I ended up drinking another two beers while getting more and more footage. The angle I had the camera meant I really couldn’t see my screen. I might have noticed when he started looking at me if I had. Only when I looked up to sneak another peek I saw two pools of steel looking at me.  Eyes so bright and grey that they seemed to glow, and they were looking at me. Not glancing but staring at me. I could feel the weight of his attention. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck” was all I could think.  As nonchalantly as possible, I slowly angled my phone away, and while pretending to be texting, I shut off the camera. It was time to go. I couldn’t dare look up at him to see if he was still looking, but I knew. I could feel it—the heat and pressure of his attention.

I had two problems. My cock was still rock hard, and I needed to piss badly. So badly, I thought that if I tried to make it to my car, I would piss myself. SHIT. I took out my wallet and threw 50 bucks and an OK tip on the table. Every second felt like my bladder was going to burst. SHIIIT. Taking a deep breath, I causually stood up with my hand in my pocket, trying to hold my boner down, and started walking across the bar to the hallway with the bathrooms. My brain screamed don’t look at him, my cock, on the other hand, throbbed under my fingers and said, come on one last look.

Glancing in his direction as I walked past the men who sat in front of him, I saw his head turn and track me. Like some goddamn tiger or something. I got to the bathroom and made it to the urinal, and let out 5 beers worth of piss. My hard cock throbbing in my hand the entire time. When I finished, my cock had gone to semi-hard. Stuffing it back in my pants, I washed my hands, took a deep breath, and told myself to walk out of the bar. Walk out of the bathroom and straight out the bar, not looking at him or anyone. Out the bar and to my car.  Go home. Go home and watch all of the videos you took of that beast. My cock twitched and started to harden again.

I opened the door, turned to go down the hallway, and ran into a wall of beef. He stood there, his massive body filling the dim hallway, waiting. I bounced off him and stumbled back two steps. I looked up at his face and those eyes. My body froze. I can’t explain it. I FROOZE. He looked at me, his head tilted as if he were deciding something. My heart was racing, and my mouth was dry. For seconds, I couldn’t say anything. Then I remembered what happened with the guy up front. I quickly said, “Sorry. Excuse me for bumping into you.”  

He started moving toward me. I backed up a step, thinking he was headed to the bathroom. But he wasn’t. He kept walking past the bathroom, and now he was against me. His massive body pushes me forward, my backward pace struggling to keep up. “Uh wait, hey, umm, excuse me.” Every nonsensical word came out of my mouth, and he kept pushing me back down the hallway. I started to fall backward, and I felt this massive hand grab my shirt and keep me upright. With no effort, he lifted me on my toes and carried me down the darkening hall. I kept mumbling until he said, “Shut up.” He didn’t yell. He gave an order and expected it to be followed.

We turned a corner and went down another short hall. There was an exit door. He pushed me through it into the night. Behind the bar, it was virtually pitch black, only lit by moonlight and his eyes. He walked us 50 feet behind a brick shed and pushed me against the wall.  His beard split into a hard grin, and he said, “Phone.”

Stunned and terrified, I said, “What?”

I have never had anyone grab me by my throat and lift me off the ground before. His massive hand clamped around my neck; his other hand went to my pants pocket and ripped out my phone.  Still holding me up with one hand, his other expertly clicks the button to turn the screen on. It was locked. He looked at me and then at the phone. I expected he would demand the lock code. Instead, he turned my head to face the phone and held it up. Even in the dim moonlight, it recognized my face and unlocked it.

The massive hand that wasn’t throttling me expertly moved over the screen. His big fingers press and swipe my screen. The screen lit up his face. Harsh, rough, brutally handsome. In a few seconds, I heard the sound of the bar playing from my speaker.  His hand tightened on my throat.  I watched his face as he scrubbed through the video. His brutal features were darkening. The aura of potential violence made the air thick.

He turned the phone so I could see the video playing, which showed him staring at me and the camera from minutes ago. He pulled me down and leaned all of his weight into me, crushing me to the shed wall. He leaned in where our faces were touching. His steel grey eye was less than an inch from my own, staring into my eye like a laser beam. His beard rubbed against mine as his mouth was next to my ear. His hot, angry breath blew across my ear and neck.  It was intimate. Fear can be intimate.

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you videoing me.” He said. His voice was deep, and his words were spoken normally, but the power behind them made me shiver.  My brain went blank. Words just tumbled from my mouth. Apologies. Explanations. Gibberish. I could see the rage ignite in his eyes as he pressed himself against me fully and repeated himself more forcefully. He asked again, and the anger and potential violence in his voice made my legs weak.

Then froze.  His eyes stayed locked to mine. His head tilted. He let go of my neck and reached down between us.  My brain may have been terrified and incapable of action; however, my cock was having the time of its life.  It could care less that this 390-pound monster was about to rip us apart. All it cared about was that 390-pound monster crushing and grinding me into the wall behind us. I felt the biker’s massive hand grab my hard cock.

The heat in his eyes was still there, in suspension.  Lifting my phone back up, I watched as he expertly tapped, swiped, and scrubbed through my phone. We stood that way for almost 3-4 minutes. I heard numerous videos I had saved to my phone from Leather sites, Raw Fuck Club, videos saved from Twitter and Pornhub. He flicked through them, and all the while, my throbbing cock was crushed by his hand.

Looking back at me, his eyes were still full of heat. “Is that it puppy? You getting some more jerk off material on your phone?” My fear is now joined with shame. SHIT. Shame giving me the power to look away.  His big hand squeezes my cock painfully, and he says, “I asked you a question, boy! You’re videoing me so you can jerk this thing off later?” His hand squeezed and pulled my cock roughly through my jeans. It throbbed and twitched with excitement.

I mumbled, “Yes.”

His face gets close to his mind, and the anger is back in his voice, “Speak up, boy! You got the balls to be filming me for your personal pleasure, be man enough to say it!”

“Yes, that is why I was filming you,” I said.

“Why me?” He said, his voice clearly expecting an answer.

I paused. Thinking of what to say.  Decided on the truth. “I’ve never seen anyone like you. As big as you are.  As tough as you are. As strong as you are.  As mean and scary.“ I stopped myself from going further.

He let go of my cock and pressed himself hard against me, crushing me more than before. “You like’em big and scary, huh?” His face was close to mind. “I’m 400 fucking pounds of the meanest and scariest motherfucker you gonna ever meet, boy.”  He pushed his mouth close to my ear and said, “I do mean and scary shit for fun. Are you sure you want that?” He fucking growled like a beast in my ear.

My cock didn’t give my brain time to think, so I quietly said, “Yes.”

He growled in my ear and crushed me even more against the wall. “Mean and scary it is.” He said.

Spinning me around, he pushed me face-first into the brick wall. He reached around, grabbed the front of my pants, and unbuckled my belt. He slid the belt off. Before I knew what was happening, he had made a loop out of it, put it around my neck, and pulled it tight. “There we go, puppy needs a leash.” He said. I was up on my toes. My skin was hot and cold. Excited and scared.

I felt his other hand grab the back of my jeans and yank. There was a ripping sound, and I tried to grab his hand to keep him from ripping my jeans. “Hey, I can take them down…” I never finished that sentence because I felt a fist hit me in the kidneys. Bright pain lanced up my side, and my legs went weak.

Pressing up against me, he said, “Understand this puppy. You’ve got three jobs right now. One, do what I say and nothing but what I say. Two, do whatever you can to make sure I enjoy using you however I want. Three, Survive. Do one and two well, and three shouldn’t be a problem. You fuck around thinking this is some date, and I can show you a whole other level of mean and scary. Do you understand me, boy?”

“ Yes, Sir.” I said.

He laughed roughly as his hand grabbed my jeans and ripped a big hole in the center. His hand reached through the hole to grab my shorts and grab one of the ass straps of my jock. He chuckled, “You’re a kinky fucker, aren’t you?”

I felt him step back and heard a zipper. He growled deeply again and pressed himself against me. I could feel his hot throbbing cock rub against my ass. He ground his hips back and forth and side to side. Fuck, it was huge. I could feel it throb and twitch as it moved across my skin. He slid it up my back and around my hips so I could feel how big it was.  I whimpered a bit in lust and fear. Leaning in, he growled, “Everything about me is big and scary.”

He slides his now hard cock between my ass cheeks, stretching the cheeks apart with-it’s size. I feel him let out a deep, growling breath as he crushes me between him and the wall.  I felt the big, veiny flesh slide up and down my hole. Yanking on the belt, he growls, “Open up.” He pushes his way in. Fuck its, huge. So damn thick. It just keeps sliding and sliding in. My breath is coming in short gasps. He chuckles as it pushes all the way in. I can feel his pubic hair and zipper teeth on my ass.  I want to yell, but the belt is pulled tight on my neck.

“That’s it, puppy. Take it. Take it all.” He says, grinding his massive body against mine. His cock throbbing deep inside me. Soon, he got a steady stroke going. His strokes are solid and deep. His powerlifting hips alternate from jackhammering into me to crushing me against the wall between him and the shed. He’s growling and breathing behind me like an animal. My legs are weak from the pounding.

I feel him loosen his grip on the belt, grab my hair, and pull my head to the side. I feel his thick beard rub across my neck. I moan as he rubs across that spot. The spot that makes me squirm when the right man finds it. He knows and licks across it. My body shakes. Then I felt his mouth bite down on that spot. Every nerve in my body cuts on and off. His hungry mouth bites and gnaws at my neck. Never breaking the skin. Holding me in place as his massive body goes into overdrive. Powerfucking me against the wall. I feel like a rhino is ramming into me. Time blurs and I don’t know if it has been 5 minutes or 15, but this monster has stamina. His pounding has never stopped.

I’ve never been used like this. I feel his stroke change, and by the 4th stroke, he explodes inside of me. Shot after shot, painting my insides. So much cum. So much I can feel it leaking around his cock and down my legs. He keeps his cock inside me until the absolute last twitch is done. When he pulls it out, I can feel more of it soaking my jeans.

I feel him step back and hear him say, “Turn around, boy.”  My legs are weak and wobbly. I feel like I have just lost a boxing match or been used like a tackling dummy.

He’s looking at me. Fuck he seems even bigger now. A huge fucking shadow in the moonlight.

I can barely see his face, but his eyes shine as he says. “You are not fucking done.” Looking down and then back up, he says. “Clean me up.” I look down, and his cock is still semi-hard and twitching. “You can get on your knees, or I can put you there. Get to work.”

Getting to my knees, I lean forward and take him in my mouth. Just like when he was fucking me against the wall, his hands were soon clamped on the side of my head, and his hips were thrusting his cock deep into my throat. The more I choke, cough, and sputter, the more he likes it. By the time he was done, I was a messy fleshlight. He dumped three more loads down my throat. His big dick was like a firehose. I was so full, weak, and used that I just lay on the ground.

I felt his boot push me over to my back. His huge shadow was standing over me. He puts his boot on my chest, bends down, and shines my phone in my face again. He turns it back around, and I watch as he flicks through it again, stopping a few times.  “You didn’t do lousy tonight, boy. You managed to survive.” Putting real pressure on his boot and my chest, he repeats my home address, work address, and that of my sister. Nothing more, his threat was implicit.  “You better start working out more because next time, tonight will look like foreplay.” Then I watched his massive hand squeeze, and he crushed my phone like it was nothing. It sparked, and smoke started coming out of the cracked sides. I watch him lean back and throw the now burning hunk of glass and metal far further than anyone should be able to. “You need a new phone, puppy.” He says as he walks off into the darkness.  In the next few minutes, I heard a Harley start up and drive away.

Sometime later, I managed to get up and find my way to the parking lot. I smile as I gingerly get in my car, thinking about the cloud backup I have turned on for pictures and video on my phone. I do need a new phone. My dick twitches in anticipation.

[the-bi-space-ace]

I have been DYING to get a minute to sit down and write out my thoughts about this because oooooooh boy you really got my brain racing with this one.

Echo and Fives have been so much of a package deal that they’ve fallen into a pattern they’re both comfortable with. Echo has a level head, confidence, and he’s very comfortable with authority figures. Fives is passionate and fiery but he also gets antsy with waiting around. The having to think about what’s coming next really gets to him whereas Echo doesn’t get that nervous.

I have noticed that there are several times Fives follows Echo’s lead, lets him take the front, and Echo is their voice. Often when you’re so intertwined with someone else you can tend to fall into patterns that work for you and I think it’s totally possible that happened for Fives and Echo.

Echo just does so well with structure, mediating, strategy and the planning process. It seems to get him more ready to get moving. Hearing about what’s going on, their mission, how they’re going to help, just gets him fired up to get going. He is never hesitant to state exactly what he thinks and he is a compelling man. When he believes in something he’s hard to ignore. Fives just wants to get out there and do it. The more he has to hear about how bad it is, how many steps it’s going to take, how dangerous it is, the more nervous he becomes. It’s like he has this anxiety about having to hear about it, sit with it, know it’s coming. The anticipation drives him up a wall he would really rather just do it and let his adrenaline do the talking.

Echo is so comfortable in the structure of it all. He likes having rules and boundaries and he likes knowing how to bend them. He’s confident, which is something I love about him. And Fives is confident too just in the ‘doing’ phase more so than the ‘planning’ phase.

I like the idea that they level each other out. That they need each other for different things. An equal and balanced partnership. A partnership that is shaken to its core at the Citadel. Fives has to learn to make up for the balancing act he lost.

And in a lot of ways he does. He changes. It’s so clear to me that by Umbara there is something different about him. The way he fights for what he thinks is right is something I’ve just come to associate with Fives but I like seeing him grow into it, find ways to speak out, and make people see him. Fives is one of those characters that really grows into himself, ya know? We see him at a few different stages of life and see how he’s changed from his cadet years and I’ll always be proud of the man Fives became.

I know Echo is proud of him, too.

I’ve always loved the idea that Echo was 60% of the chaos of the domino twins. Fives gave a good 40% of it but mostly held on for dear life and made sure Echo had someone backing him up. He knew Echo would have his back, would stand up for them and would recite every regulation he could remember to get them out of hot water. Echo may not be able to lie one bit but if he can use his knowledge against you he’s golden. The second they had a plan Fives would be all for it, ready to go, jumping in as fast as he could, but Fives knew to let Echo do the talking if they got caught so he could get them out of the hole they’d dug themselves.

I don’t know really where I was going with this just that I love it and can’t get enough of these two 🩶

Fives Thoughts

Sooooo I literally just made a post being like 'here are some fun bits from Umbara because the arc is depressing and I don't wanna talk about the sad bits' but uh... I had thoughts in the last 15 mins and now I wanna share them. 😃

And of course tagging as usual for people I'm interested to hear opinions from: @saturn-sends-hugs @inkstainedhandswithrings @the-bi-space-ace

It's been a while since I watched these story arcs back-to-back, so a lot of the character development is really showing atm. And one I find interesting is a shift in Fives between The Citadel and Umbara.

Fives has always had a bit of a firey personality, but up until this point he's been a little bit held back with that passion for the most part. And I'm gonna touch in something that @novaceleste and @spaceyjessa spoke about in their podcast (@coffeeandclones I was just listening to it the other day and they talk about some interesting points. Defo recommend you check it out. Also #JusticeForDroidbait2024) because it really is the basis for this whole point. Despite Fives being the brasher, slightly more hardheaded personality, and Echo being the more by-the-books one, it's Echo that tends to do a lot of the talking when authority is involved. When they speak to Shaak Ti, it's Echo that takes the lead, while Fives is a little more hesitant.

And when they first meet Rex and Cody, Fives automatically introduces himself as CT-27-5555, despite being very open about his displeasure of being called that throughout their training. He has this louder personality but he tends to draw into himself and panic slightly when put in front of authority.

However, he still has these more fiery moments, like during his speech in ARC Troopers. When he's put in a fight, that spark within him comes out full force. "My blood is boiling for a fight." That's what drives Fives. That's where that passion comes from. He always wanted to make ARC trooper, to prove himself and to demonstrate that fire in the fight.

And yet when we get to the Citadel, he's surprisingly nervous. Echo seems to be fairly on board with everything, he's listening intently, he's down with the plan. But Fives is rather hesitant and doesn't seem totally enthused about the whole thing. They've made ARC trooper, they're being included in a specialist mission, the things that Fives so desperately worked for. But now that they're here? He's really not comfortable with it.

And I think that Fives' passion and drive is so prominent in the heat of battle because his adrenaline is going, he's got the energy to burn and so that's when we see this fire in him. But in the quieter moments, the meetings, the in-between fights? He's nervous. Those are the moments where he can sit on it and really think about what they're up against. And what becomes really apparent is that Fives is absolutely terrified of the thing that fuels his fire. The thing he worked so hard for scares the absolute shit out of him. And for good reason.

But it's never been so much of an issue because he had Echo. Echo, who's more level headed, who feels comfortable with plans and formats and authority. He could be the comforting presence that Fives needed outside of battle, while Fives could be the spark in it. They're like fire and water. They keep each other regulated, balanced.

But then The Citadel happens.

And watching the Umbara arc, I noticed that Fives doesn't have that very noticeable fear. It's not that it's absent, it's just that it isn't so obvious all of the time. Of course, some of that is going to come with experience, he's been an ARC for longer, he's know Rex for a while so there's slightly more comfort with that level of authority, but he's definitely more consistently confident than he was before.

So my suggestion is, what if that comes as a result of losing Echo (at least in part)? He doesn't have that calming presence anymore, the one to balance his nerves. He doesn't have someone to stand firm beside him or take the bigger step for the two of them, so he's had to learn to do that himself. I think part of it is natural growth that comes with experience (to quote Rex: "experience outranks everything") but I do also think it comes with no longer having that constant other half. Fives has had to learn to balance himself.

Like I said earlier, a lot of this links back to stuff said in Nova and Jessa's podcast, so I'd recommend checking it out. But I just wanted to add my extra thoughts on it, having just watched Umbara, because it definitely stuck out to me on this rewatch.

[sydneys-adamu]

okay but carmy and sydney’s conversation (or lack thereof) in apologies is just in direct opposition to their talk under the table and it’s,,, unbelievably delicious.

like optics wise the lighting, writing and direction are incredibly sterile and cold and silent (notice there’s absolutely no track playing behind them). carmy and syd are almost as far as they can get from each other while still having a conversation where as under the table they were as close as they could get without literally being on top of each other. and the difference is so distinct because it’s cold and disconnected but there’s one thing that connects these two scenes and actually holds the essence of who these two are to each other.

it’s the want. the want is still there.

you deserve my full focus. / I don’t want it to be so hard to keep up with me.

what if I just fuck up and fail? / I don’t think it’s my place to be [at ever]

I won’t let you. / it’s ever. you should come.

you’re not alone. / you should get some rest.

neither are you. / you good?

both times, no matter how close or far, the conversation can’t end with sydney feeling like a fuck up or undeserving despite the fact that carmen is unaware that is exactly how he’s making her feel not through his words but his actions.

it’s difficult, because he’s not trying to inflict this on her but he is and it’s making her spiral. sydney can’t find the words to bring it up so it’s left at “I’ve been wanting to talk about…” and “I wanna run something by you…” they’re frozen. and they’ve both been since friends and family.

but the thing is that being frozen doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other or that they want it to be this way it’s clear as day that they do not. they both hate the way things are and at this point carmy doesn’t see a reason he even deserves sydney’s concern. that’s why when she asks how he is he starts talking about a plate. a lifeless dish that carmy can’t seem to leave alone. even when syd tries to reach out to him he still wants it perfect for her so much that he’s pushed her out. just like he was during demo they’re all the same patterns.

one talk under a table was never gonna fix everything but it was a fundamental start. they have to keep growing from half truths and unfinished conversations even when they get uncomfortable. they have to work through the good and bad, the comfort of the bear not being open yet versus the reality of this life together they chose. the one they explicitly want together but don’t know how to handle yet.

it’s just a process that they’re handling like real people and it’s everything. literally everything to see them grow and see how painfully non-linear it is for them both. but all roads lead somewhere and both of theirs are heading straight toward each other until eventually they’re gonna fucking crash.

@ambeauty said this amazing thing about their inability to have a conversation above a table and it never left my head

[moeblob]

What Deacon thinks: what did that mean? did he want me to wear a collar too? why else would he mention my neck? i mean, if he /asked/ me i would wear one but he didn't so would wearing one be weird?

What Ymber meant: It's nice to be near someone who isn't tethered to this world to serve it with a physical reminder for all to see.

[speakercrab666]

if horror game in horror genre, then why monster have scary face???? i want horror game!!! NO SCARY FACE!!!!!!!!! only horror game <3

[mirmidones]

ok bitter bitch moment, but i HATE when people repeatedly do not even try themselves to do something and just want me to do it for them.

even when it's something absolutely idiotic, like idk, bc of construction works the main entrance to the school is closed but there is literally a sign on the door that explains how else to enter. all you have to do is read and follow instruction. it's not like i did anything different yesterday when i got there. "nooo i still dont know im scared ill wait for you outside so you can show me" why. just get the fuck inside. or like when they ask me the time schedule literally everyday and at one point im like. or you could look it the fuck up. yknow. just how i do. since it is a class you also want to attend. it's not like the school desk calls me personally to let me and only me know. "what trains do i have to take to come see you?" i dont know, what trains are there? why cant you do it for yourself . and like i obviously dont mind being asked for help and offering help in general. i do mind it when people my own age start treating me like im their second mom or something. and i know it takes 2, i could just shut up and not be helpful but then most of the times it damages me as well as them and when it doesnt it is still super fucking annoying bc i have to sit there and listen to them whine and do nothing about anything and just. idk. patiently pretend to feel anything other that pure rage. and that does feel like a waste of my time

[anotherpapercut]

thank you for your service on the fall out boy genius lyrics o7

lmao tysm I'm really fighting for my life out here trying to get my lyric corrections for so good right now approved. as an autistic person minute inconsistencies are my whole bread and butter. I must do my duty to the fobbies o7

[eupheme]

— sugar, sugar

[part ii] | [part iii] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 6.5k

tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, immature humor, a reference to while you were sleeping, wingman!wade and the worse way to meet someone, light angst, oral sex, swallowing, fingering, v. light ass play, unprotected PiV, appearance of The Claws, what’s a refractory period, sorta audible voyeurism (brief/humorous)

a/n: includes spoilers for deadpool & wolverine (which omg I loved - what was your fave cameo?)

Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.

“You gonna introduce me?”

You’ve cornered Wade in the apartment’s laundry room - the door to the front-loading washer hanging open as he holds a bundle of red fabric up to his chest.

“You think this will wash out?” 

The suit in question looks like it had been run over by a truck and then set on fire, with the rips criss-crossed in the leather and the numerous charred holes scattered across the chest.

“Definitely.” Your eyes flicker down, and then back up, “So, will you?”

He bundles the suit up - flinging into the back of the washer, the laundry basket still tucked under an arm.

“Really? Not even ‘hello, Wade’? ‘Looking good, Wade’?” His voice pitches up, imitating yours, “Does our friendship really mean nothing to you?”

You wouldn’t necessarily call Wade Wilson a friend.

In fact, he’s honestly the worst neighbor you’ve ever had. 

Loud, obnoxious. Persuasive - the first night you met you had been banging on his door at three in the morning, yelling at him to shut up as music and a caterwauling voice blared through the shared wall.

Ten minutes later you were playing the drums on his late night session of Rock Band, using a banana and a wooden spoon in place of sticks. Only for Althea to stomp out of her room and shut everything down, scaring both of you out of your skins.  

But sometimes, you think - remembering the times he came through for you, a shoulder to cry on, helping him this slump he’s been digging himself out of - he might just be the best, as well.

And maybe that was friendship, after all. 

You sigh, leaning against the row of washers. Eyes flicking over him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You do look good, Wade,” There’s a tilt of your head, the smile widening, “Glad you lost the toupee, that really wasn’t your color.”

“Ah, ah. Repurposed,” He chides, cupping his crotch, “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed-”

“Ew, stop.” Your face scrunches, a hand covering your eyes as you shield your vision, “Will you please just answer my question?”

He throws a handful of shirts in the washer, “Which was...?”

Your head shakes - a hand on his arm as you reach for a glint of gold in the pile of clothes. Cringing as a handgun appears, held gingerly between thumb and forefinger as you set it on the side table.

“Good call,” He nods, “Dry clean only.”

You can't help a laugh then, even as your hands brace on your hips, “I want to meet your roommate.”

He frowns, “You’ve met Blind Al.”

“Jesus, Wade. Not Al." A hand waves, " I mean Mister Tall, Dark, and Brooding.”

You’ve seen the stranger in the hallways a few times in the month since he’s moved in. Scruffy and scowling the first time, a silent shadow behind Wade’s endless chatter. 

But in the weeks following, that look had softened. You’d stopped by twice with cookies to welcome him, but every time you’ve just gotten Al.

Not that you dislike Al, that’s not it at all. She’s sweet enough to you when it’s not 3 a.m. or if Wade doesn’t have her annoyed half to death.

But you certainly weren’t harboring a crush on her. Maybe even secretly hoping that maybe the new neighbor will get a little lost and end up at your door, instead of his new place.  

“Ooh,” The syllables draw out - detergent flung in, before he’s leaning against the washer too, facing you. “Yeah, Logan. He's great, got a mean ‘Hugh Jackman’ vibe, just without the singing. You’d like him.”

Something like hope flutters in your belly, but then he’s raising a finger - wiggling it at you, “Just one question though. What’s in it for me?”

That has you scowling, “What do you mean? You owe me. I covered for you when you had that barqueue in the stairwell.”

“God, that was great sausage.” Wade groans, thinking back, “Mmm, but I think Peter covered for me.”

“Who do you think got Peter?”

“Well, I don’t remember seeing you.” He shrugs.

“I was right-,” You pinch the bridge of your nose between thumb and forefinger, a sharp exhale of breath, “Fine. If you do this for me, I’ll do that thing you keep asking me to do.”

Wade gasps gleefully, “You mean you’ll make the triple decker-”

“-chocolate caramel cheesecake chimichangas. Yes.” You finish with him, arms crossing over your chest, “You’re lucky you heal fast because that should put you right into a food coma.”

“Right. Lucky me,” He smirks. A second as he thinks, before he snaps his fingers, “I’m having a little get-together tonight! You should come. Was gonna invite you anyway.”

The pounding in your head ratchets up at the thought that all this could’ve been avoided.

“Logan sleeps on the couch, though,” He adds, sagely, “So just letting you know that if the two of you decide to get your fuck on in my bed, according to the state of New York I am legally allowed to join you.”

“Thanks for the warning,” You grimace - even if you’re certain that cannot possibly be true, “But I do have my own apartment.”

“Oh, right.” There’s the faintest edge of disappointment in his tone, paired with a sigh.

You give him a sideways look, then.

“I saw Vanessa leaving yesterday. Things getting better?”

He sobers at that, eyes moving towards the sliver of a window. The glimpse of the street outside.

“Yeah.” Wade manages, “Yeah, I think so.”

There had once been a flicker of something. In-between your annoyance and exasperation, there were tendrils of tenderness. Long snuffed out, when you had seen just how banged up his heart was. How it’s always belonged to another. 

You had gotten over it. Gotten to a place where seeing him now, like this, makes you smile.

“I’m really glad to hear that.” 

He smiles, then.

“Thanks. Me too.”

“Hey, hold on.” Wade darts in front of his roommate, a leg kicked up high to block the doorway, “Where are you going? You can’t go out.”

Logan scowls, an arm already shoved into his leather jacket, “Sure I can.”

The blow against his shoulder might move a lesser man, but Wade’s fingers just grip the frame even tighter, “But I promised-, I got a friend that wants to meet you. There is some really important shit at stake here. I can’t let you go.”

An eyebrow cocks, “Can’t? I think we both know how that would go if you tried to stop me.”

It would be easy to get into this right here and now, but his suit is still in the dryer and he’s not about to spend another hour cleaning up blood.

“Wait, wait, wait,” He throws a hand up, “Aren’t you listening to me? A girl wants to meet you. She’s hot, she has a job, and she has an apartment. You’re only one outta three there. Can’t you see what a good opportunity this is? This is totally in your favor!”

Logan scoffs, his tongue tucking against his teeth. Hesitating for just a second, but it's enough that Wade knows he’s got him.

“I’ve met your friends,” He eventually acknowledges, “They’re good folk and all, but there isn’t anyone there I’d like to ‘get to know better’, yeah?”

“You haven’t met this one. She lives next door.”

The pause stretches longer this time. Dark eyes dart out into the hallway, and Wade can practically hear those rusted gears turning.

“Apartment 16 or 18?” Logan finally rasps, his arms crossing. 

Oh, he’s definitely got him. Just call him Wade Wilson, New York’s own personal Cupid. New life goal - get his friends laid. 

He nocks a mental arrow - aiming, and then firing with his answer. 

“18.” 

Another beat passes, and then a sigh. 

“Alright.” The leather sleeve slips from his arm, drooping in his fist.

“Five minutes. That’s all I’m staying.”

Wade’s fist pumps. 

Bullseye, motherfucker. 

The apartment is packed and it’s been well past the allotted five minutes. Logan’s been nursing a beer for the last fifteen, eyes flicking over the people he’s grown to know well.

Offering a tight, half-smile when the big man claps him on the back, followed by Opposites Attract. Almost tempted to find that damn dog, just to have something to do. 

Or maybe, just bail all-together.

Starting to think this was all an elaborate prank. Some fucked up aspect of this Earth, unknown to him until now.

He’s too old for this shit. If he heads for the bedroom now, he might make it out the fire escape before anyone notices.

Logan is still entertaining this new thread of thought until he hears his name - called out over whatever fuck-face bullshit boy-band music Wade’s been playing. 

Ambiance, his ass.

The muscles of his crossed arms flex. Catching the way his roommate hauls a girl across the floor - the look of panic on her face as she tosses a container onto the nearest surface.

Wade hadn’t been lying, after all. It was Apartment 18 - that was about as much as he knew about you.

Other than the color of your eyes. The smell of your perfume in the hall. Your hair, your schedule - waking in the mornings to hear your door opening at 5 a.m., five days a week.

A baker. A damn good one, from the bits of cookie he’s snuck when no one was home. 

Had never thought to introduce himself, because he’s been through all this before. Knows better than to reach out in the first place - still nursing the old wound of heartache, one that still flares to life in his chest.

Better not to hope, or even think, at all. 

You stumble when he lets go, and Logan’s hands only curl tighter. Afraid to touch, now that you’re so close. 

A pretty young thing compared to him. This was a fucking stupid idea, his eyes darting away as Wade claps, his hands spreading wide. 

“Logan,” Wade’s tone is cordial, as if discussing the weather, “This is our neighbor, Sugar. She bakes a mean penis cake and likes emotionally unavailable men.”

A dejected sigh as he regards you, “Which is why it’s never worked out between us. I am just too available.”

Penis cake?

Logan shoots you a sideways look, an eyebrow cocked. Caught off guard by this unexpected intro, and it seems you are the same - gauging by the way your mouth drops open. 

Your face swimming with regret, as you hiss, “Oh my god. Wade. It was one time. Why do you have to put it like that?”

Wade’s smile widens, his tone still innocent, “Just skipping over the ‘getting-to-know-you’s, so you can know if you’re compatible.”

Already pivoting to face Logan with a little wink, his own scowl already deepening. Something like nerves flickering to life - as he wonders if this will all be over before it ever begins.

“And this is Logan. He’s from another Earth, is two-hundred years old, and has a metal dong.”

Jesus Christ. 

Logan’s teeth grit, before he snarls, “It’s not made of metal-”

Out of the corner of his eye, catches the curious dip of your gaze. Past the folded twist of his arms, the flannel, down to his thick belt buckle.

A knock rings out then, interrupting him from any further clarification.

“Ooh! Door,” Wade thumbs over his shoulder, “Go on now, we’ve got some good energy going here. Sugar and spice, I love it.”

A spin on his heel, and he’s leaving them alone. Silence a lingering companion for a long moment, before Logan turns.

“Nice to meet you.” He seethes, jaw working as he shoots daggers at Wade’s back. A hand extended - he’d manage that much at least.

Waiting for you to make an excuse and run, but all you do is fit your hand into his. Soft and strong and a near perfect fit.

Logan doesn’t touch people much anymore unless it’s a hand around a throat, or claws buried deep into a chest. Had almost forgotten what it was like, even if this meeting is close to his own personal version of hell.

“Nice to finally meet you, too.” Your smile is wry. Hands still clasped a moment longer, until he’s withdrawing. 

Your hands shove into your back pockets. The tilt of a head as you regard him, and he lets his eyes meet yours. 

They’re pretty, like the rest of you. Captivating even, if he could use such a word, and Wade’s words ring out in his head. 

She wants to meet you.

He’s wondering if that’s still true. Maybe you’re wondering the same, with the way you look at him. 

“So,” You begin, awkwardly - another unconscious flick of your eyes,“How does-”

“Uh-uh.” Logan’s head shakes. He’s picked up a couple things living with Wade. Never used to be a bargaining man, but he has to admit it has its uses. 

“If you wanna know, you gotta go first.” 

He hates you.

He must, with the way he’s scowling. Thighs spread wide as he sits on the couch you had gestured to, fingers in a vice grip around the bottle. No doubt plotting a dozen ways to ditch you the second he can.

Who wouldn’t, with a meeting like this? You could kill Wade, cheeks burning as you sink into the worn cushions next to him.

That is, until your knee knocks against his. The muscles in his thigh flexing - but Logan lets it rest, instead of pulling away. 

“You gonna-?” His voice is gruff, a low rasp that makes goosebumps raise across your skin. 

“Uh, sure.” Your fingers twist, “Which part did you want to hear about?”

His eyebrows lift. Those dark eyes beneath, almost a hint of amusement in them.

“Right,” The little laugh that bubbles from you is self-conscious, “Well, I don’t really like emotionally unavailable men, they just have a habit of finding me.”

His voice is low, “How would Wade know that?”

“Mm, how would he know about your-?” Your eyes flicker down for the third time, and he shifts. 

“You first.”

“Alright.” You huff, but you’re smiling now. Some of your discomfort easing. 

Logan is even more handsome than you had thought. You like the way his eyes dart away, only to come back and linger. 

It’s starting to make you think that maybe it’s not dislike that has so much of him hidden away. Maybe it’s just been a long time since someone tried to peel any of him back. 

Maybe he’s as nervous as you are.

“Well, he’s had to scare an ex or two away.” You shrug, “He only knows because I told him. And the cake, oh-, that was him, too.”

You turn then, to face him. A shoulder brushing the arm he has thrown across the back of the couch, a flicker in his eyes as you get comfortable beside him.

“Well, Wade had gotten ripped in half a couple years ago,” You nose wrinkles, a wave of your hand, “And it all like, has to grow back, right? It’s so creepy.”

Logan grimaces at your explanation, and you wonder if he understands. You think he must - you had thought he was like Wade, in some ways. 

Different. Special.

“Well, he uh, finished growing everything in,” You make a sweeping gesture over your lower half, “And the next year to celebrate his dickiversary, he ordered a penis cake from my shop.”

“His… dickiversary.” Logan repeats slowly.

The heat is back in your cheeks, but you nod, “Yeah, because it like, it came back and all. And he paid in cash, I couldn’t say no.”

There’s the smallest twitch of Logan’s lips, and it feels like a victory.

“Right. What flavor was it?”

Your smile widens with relief, “Strawberries and cream. It was so good. I’ll have to make it for you sometime.”

A second before you cringe, adding, “I mean, a normal one. Not…”

He hums then, close to a laugh.  

“Sure. You do that.”

You smile, letting your shoulder bump his, “And with that… I think it’s your turn.”

The bit of humor in his expression flattens. A searching look thrown your way, before he inhales a breath.

Setting it free. 

“I’m a mutant.”

Logan waits there, as if expecting something. You only nod, thinking of the ones you know. Colossus, Ellie, Yukio, Domino. Wade. 

“Wade said you were similar to him. I had assumed-” You encourage, waiting.

“Right,” He seems relieved, some of the tension ebbing, “My powers are regenerative, like his. But unlike him, I have these-”

There’s the jerk of his wrist, and three sharp metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. Your gasp is caught in your throat as you cling to his flannel shirt - the surprise bleeding into worry. 

They glint in the light, as his fingers flex. 

“Adamantium instead of bones. All of me is like this.”

The claws sheath themselves inside him again. His wounds smoothing over seconds later, as he scrubs his knuckles across his jeans, wiping away blood. 

Offering out his hand, after. Letting your grip unwind from his shirt, and press against his skin instead. Feeling the tendons in his hand, his wrist. The skeleton beneath utterly unyielding, a weight to his limb that is so unlike your own.

“Metal…” You trail off, as pieces click into place, “I get it now. So does Wade really think there’s like, an actual bone-?”

Logan huffs again, “Guess so.”

You laugh then. A thought sobering you after, as a fingertip drifts up to the dip between his fingers. 

“But doesn’t that hurt?” 

It makes you wince to even think about it. Much less how casually they sprung from him, no different than breathing. 

He shrugs, and it’s heartbreaking.

“Doesn’t even phase me anymore.”

“And, the two hundred years,” Another facet you put together out loud, “You’re still alive because you keep healing? Will it be that way forever?”

His hand flexes in your grip.

“Not forever. Apparently my powers will run out, at some point.” His eyes meet yours, “The Logan in this world is dead. Wade pulled me from another.”

Your brow furrows - always trying to keep up with the snippets that Wade has told you across the years - stories about time-traveling and mutants and even how he came to be. But this seems too deep. Surely Logan must be joking.

“Another world, huh?” You ask, head tilting - trying your best to roll with it, “Won’t they miss you in yours?”

Only now does his face falter. That sharp mask cracking, as his hand pulls from yours. Resting again on the back edge of the couch - his answer low and rough. 

“No. I don’t think so.”

Another jolt racks through your heart. You don’t know him know him yet, but you already can’t believe that could possibly be true. Your fingers fan out, hovering - before it folds into a fist.

“Well then, I’m glad you’re here.”

He doesn’t reply. 

The room is darker now, dim with the setting of the sun. Street lights outside pouring in a golden beam that cuts across his face. 

His eyes are hazel, you can see that now. A fading rim of green spilling into the brown, beneath the near-permanent furrow of his eyebrows. 

Yours caught in the glow of the flamingo string lights that curl out from the kitchen, stapled to the walls.

He breaks the silence, the words coming slowly. 

“Let me ask you one more thing.” 

“Sure. You know some of my worst secrets already.” You smile, a shoulder lifting.

His hand twitches, where it rests near your shoulder. The tip of a finger ghosting against skin.

Just the slightest brush but it feels like it radiates out, lingering after.

“Why’d you tell Wade you wanted to meet me?” 

His voice is still low, rough. But it’s lost that sharp edge. The combination has your stomach tied up in knots, suddenly more nervous that you’ve been the whole night.

Surely he must know? 

“Well…” You hedge. It’s your turn to look away, but then there’s the brush of his fingers again.

“Because I did want to meet you.” You admit, “You, you seemed like someone I wanted to get to know. In whatever capacity you’d like.”

“Is that right, Sugar?” Logan husks, and the nickname sounds even sweeter on his tongue, stealing your breath.

All you can do is nod, as his eyes darken. 

Voices rise behind you, ripping you out of this little bubble you’ve found yourself in. Nearly forgetting just how many people are here, how many eyes have been glancing your way since you’ve arrived.

“Not strip poker Wade, please.” The rough rumbling plea of Colossus’s voice rings out above the others, “You never wear anything under the suit-”

You didn’t even realize when he had changed, but he had - patches of bare skin on his ass showing through the holes. Your nose scrunches, before you turn back to realize that Logan’s eyes are still on you.

Dropping when your tongue peeks out to wet your lips - your words coming out in a soft hush. 

“You want to get out of here?”

You want him. You can only hope that he might just want you, too.

The corner of his lip twitches.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

It’s strange to have someone like Logan in your space. You can remember the last time you’ve wanted someone here.

His fingers still entwined with yours, from where you had reached back for him. Leading him through the dim corners of the room.

Thinking you had made it, only for the rousing cheers to rise when you had cracked the door open to slip through.

His grip tightening when you made to tug your hand free, in an urge to press it against burning cheeks. Letting you fumble with one hand, to open the lock next door.

It’s quieter here. A low echo of the music next door, as the darkness wraps around you again.

Here, his fingers move, but it’s only to skim up your wrist. To tug you between him and the front door, until your back presses against it. 

His nose brushes yours as he steps into your space, your lips already parting. Holding himself there for a moment, inhaling the scent of you as his arm braces above your head.

Leaving you to be the one that closes the gap. The tilt of your head and the press of your lips against his.

A rough hum when your arms wrap around his neck, fingers buried in his hair. His hand gripping at your waist, pulling your hips against his.

Tugging and pushing. A messy path from the front door through the small living room - a mirror-image of the apartment next door.

Through to the bedroom, wandering hands and the brush of his tongue against yours as he deepens the needy kiss. Until his knees are hitting the edge of your bed, and he’s letting you nudge him back onto the mattress.

He brings you with him - your hips cradling his as you settle yourself astride him. Hands flatten against his chest as you rock down - drawing a rough, mumbled “fuck”.

Grinding yourself down where he’s hard, the curve of his cock straining against his jeans. Letting your hands follow, as his own cup your ass. Squeezing, before slipping to press the heel of his hand against the seam at your clit.

You moan into his mouth, as your fingers curl around him. Eyes blown wide when you pull back, scooting your hips down. 

It’s here that he comes back to himself. 

Going tense as you fit yourself between his thighs, fingers at this belt as the other still cups him.

“You shouldn’t want this.” He rasps, those eyes glinting in the dark, “A man like me. You know that, right?”

Propping himself up on an elbow, so he can see your expression. So you can see the way his jaw grits, nostrils flaring. 

It’s a warning, wrapped up in silk. A last ditch effort to scare you away - knowing that once he has you, he won’t want to stop.

Your fingers slow - his zipper half-undone, baring skin and a dark shadow of hair beneath. 

The other pulling away, “You want me to stop?” 

He catches your wrist, jerking your hand back. His hips bucking into your palm, grinding himself into your touch. 

“The last thing I want to fucking do is stop.” It’s almost a growl, “But on my Earth, I-”

You sigh then, impatient, “Logan, this Earth isn’t all that great either. I lost five years of my life to the blip.”

He frowns, not understanding - but your head shakes as you continue, “I’m tired of being too scared to take chances. I’ve been trying to live each day to the fullest, and I’d like to end this one with you.”

And out of everyone - Logan knows a little something about second chances.

“Yeah,” He manages - the grip of his fist leaves you, “Yeah, okay.”

"Thank you,” You answer primly, just as you finish yanking the zipper down. 

His hand beats you in the race to ease himself out, fingers curling around the base. You can’t help it - you inhale a breath at the sight of him.

Heavy, with the way the flushed tip bobs in his grip. Thick enough that you’re already wondering if you’re going to be able to take him. 

The huff he makes turns into a groan as you start small - engulfing the leaking head with your lips. The first inch turns into another as his hips lift, feeding his cock into your waiting mouth. 

Only when he’s halfway inside you, bumping against your throat, does his hand drop. Letting you replace it with your own - squeezing, as drool slicks up his shaft. Your head bobbing in time with the twist of your fist.

That brief hesitance is quickly forgotten. Fingers brush at your cheek, curling around the base of your head as he guides you.

Leaving you eager for more. Another hissed groan when your mouth leaves him, your hand loosening as you strip your clothes away.

“Oh fuck yes,” He coaxes, when he realizes what you’re doing, “Let me see you, baby.” 

Your shirt and pants left to pool on the floor. A second of boldness as you unclasp your bra next, leaving you in your panties as you focus on his cock again. 

A bitten-back moan when your tongue slips across his swollen shaft - an low throb between your thighs as you rub them together, clenching around nothing. Resisting the urge to slip your hand beneath the hem to ease the ache. 

Instead, your keep your hands on him. Goosebumps raising as your nails scratch against the deep v of muscle at his hips. The others working him into your mouth, as he slowly comes more undone. 

His hips flex with each bob of your head, lips parted as he pants. The words a rough mumble, becoming almost desperate. 

“That’s it sweetheart.”

Another moan when you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, “Oh fuck, gonna fill that pretty mouth.”

His hand cups your jaw, holding you steady as he bucks into your mouth. Those dark eyes fixed on you in wonder, all that pretty skin bared for him to touch, to taste. He’s mesmerizing like this - the weight of gaze. Jaw slack with pleasure, eyes aflame.

You did this to him. 

It sends something warm flooding through you, as his eyelashes flutter. The tipping back of his head, muscles ticking in his cheek as his teeth ground down. 

A sound still slips between them, as he floods your mouth with the next flex of his hips. Pulsing between your lips as you swallow him down, a choked sound ripping from his chest when you cup his sack to gently squeeze out every last drop. 

Logan melts into the mattress after, an arm thrown over his eyes as he catches his breath. His gaze focusing on you when he feels you squirm - dark, and hungry.

A lithe stretch of muscles as he moves - legs easing from beneath you. 

“Hands and knees,” He commands, head tipping towards the bed next to him, as he rolls off. Kicking off his jeans as you listen, watching over a shoulder as the flannel and white tank underneath joins your clothes on the floor.

Your eyes widen at how toned he is - muscles rippling, the bed dipping as he fits himself behind you.

His broad hand at the small of your back, pushing your torso down against the mattress. A pleased hum then, fingers trailing just along the elastic edge of your underwear.

“Could smell how much she needed this.” The tips of two press against the damp fabric between your thighs, making you gasp, “Even next door. You want it that bad?”

It should be embarrassing that he could tell how much you desired him, but at the moment all you can think about is him touching you more.

“Yes,” You agree, “Please, Logan.”

“So fuckin’ polite,” The fingers withdraw; but only so his nose can replace them. A ragged inhale, just before his tongue drags against your clothed slit.

A groan against your skin as you cry out, before a finger hooks around the fabric, baring you for him to taste.

The heat of his tongue flattens against you - lapping at where you drip with need, a rough rumble in his chest. 

“Sweet, too.” Another flick of his tongue, “Your name. ‘s fitting.”

You can’t manage words. Only his name, muffled against the sheets as your fists twist in them. Back arched as you resist the urge to grind yourself against his tongue, as it flicks against your clit.

It’s messy, how he eats you. You don’t think you’ve even had someone take you like this. Hungry, desperate even, as he devours you. The rumble of a groan against your cunt as his tongue delves inside you, stretching you open. Letting your slick smear into his beard, with how close he presses his mouth.

That need inside you thrumming. Winding tighter as he yanks your panties down your thighs. His palm flattening against your ass, holding you open as he licks you from clit to hole, then higher. Humming as you squeak, when his tongue flattens against your tight rim. 

A thick finger nudging against you then, as his tongue dips back to your clit. There’s no resistance as it slips deeper, into slick walls that clamp down around him.  It’s what you needed - that little bit more.

Unable to help rocking into the crook of his finger now. Whining when a second joins it, spearing deep and curling. Dragging against your walls, loud and wet and filthy with each plunge. 

Your whimpers only grow louder. Needier, as his lips wrap around your clit. Fingers pounding deep, stretching you out. Leaving you babbling, your words slipping together. 

“Don’t fucking stop.” Tears prick at your eyes, each breath a rattling gasp, “Oh my god you’re gonna make me come-”

He has you gushing, with the next flick of his tongue. A pleased groan as he feels your pussy tighten around his fingers, hearing the wail that is muffled into your pillows. That sharp pace slowing, his thumb replacing his tongue to draw your orgasm out until your legs are shaking. 

His fingers sticky when they pull from you, only to slip between his lips - tongue curling around his knuckles, sucking them clean.

It leaves you floating above yourself. You can’t remember ever coming this hard, even by yourself. Only the tintest thread of disappointment as you drift, and it’s only that you won’t get the pleasure of his cock filling you tonight.

You would’ve liked to see what he can do with the rest of him. 

Perhaps you can convince him to stay until morning.

But he moves behind you, instead. His knee pressing against yours, spreading your legs further. The rhythmic shuffle of skin against skin, as his hand slips from between his lips to fist around his cock. 

“Tell me I can fuck you.” It’s not a plea, not with the harsh rasp of his voice. But it’s as close as you’ve heard, as he swipes the tip against your leaking pussy.

Smearing your slick on him, teasing at your waiting hole.

You don’t know how he’s hard again, but at the moment you really don’t care. Not sure if you’ve ever felt a need like this, your back arching further as you present yourself to him. 

A twist of your neck, so your eyes can meet his. 

“Fuck me, Logan.” 

He groans, broad hands squeezing at your ass. Slipping up to sink his fingers into the flesh at your hips. Holding you steady as he lines himself up. 

Your breath held, when you feel his cock start to breach you - muscles stringing tight.

“Relax, sweetheart,” He grits out, though not unkindly, “You can take it.”

Trying to hold himself back from filling you with a single thrust, with the way you’re already gripping him.

Easing himself into your heat. Two inches forward and then one back, and with each one you think you’ll feel the press of his thighs against yours. A low whine as your cunt makes room for him, that sharp stretch as it feels like he’s reaching into your belly.

Feeling full when he finally is flush, the weight of his sack kissing against your clit. His shoulders following the curve of your back, as a hand slips up to plant next to your head.

“Feels fucking incredible,” It’s mumbled against your skin, almost as if it hadn’t meant to say it. 

“Mm,” You grin, your face tipping up to his, “Should’ve met you weeks ago.”

He smirks, a low sound in his throat as his mouth presses to yours. Starting a slow rhythm that drags his cock against your walls. Slipping until he’s halfway out, only to sheath himself again. Pushing the air from your lungs as he flattens himself, knees digging into the bed as your thigh spread wider - forcing him deeper.

It’s almost too much. 

You hand shoots out, reaching. Wrapping around his wrist, nails biting against his skin. 

It feels like he’s surrounding you. Each thrust a heavy weight that presses you into the bed. Splitting you open, until all you can do is squirm beneath him.

That pressure in your belly building again, as his hips pound. His breath, hot and panting in your ear as he chases his own end.

“Fuck, Logan.” You sob, “Harder-”

His tendons flex under your grip. Knuckles pressing flat against the sheets as he makes a rough sound in his throat. 

Those claws unsheathing with his next thrust. Punching down into your mattress. Anchoring as he loses himself to the feel of you beneath him.

How tight and wet and warm you are, your arousal still sweet on his tongue. Fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your throat, as everything tightens up inside him.

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, rasped out. 

“Come in me,” You whine, “Wanna feel you.”

He does growl then, at the thought of filling you to the brim, until he's leaking out of your pretty little pussy. Hips snapping faster, pinning you to the bed as he ruts into you. Each squeak of the bed paired with the sharp rip of fabric as his claws dig in. 

Feeling how your body strings tight beneath him, how you clench down in anticipation. Wanting to feel you once more, before he gives in to his own desires.

“Come on, baby,” It’s hushed, murmured against your skin, “Fuckin’ give it to me-”

The sharp point of a canine scraping against your skin, his groan rough and throaty in your ear. 

Your fingers work down to wedge themselves between your thighs. The tips brushing where you’re speared open, before circling your clit like his tongue had.

He has you mindless. Fucked out - that soft glow from your earlier orgasm shining bright as he tips you towards a second.

Burning at that tightly wound thread inside you, until the ends fray, and then snap. 

It has you coming with his next thrust. A wail ripped from you as he buries himself deep, feeling the way your pussy clenches down around him. 

Fingers still swirling, drawing out the deep pulses that fan out from your core as your toes curl, vision going hazy.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” He rasps, those sharp thrust slowing to a sloppy grind, “Make a fucking mess for me, there you go-”

Panting, as he groans. Another roll of his hips before he’s coming with you - teeth bruising skin as they sink into your shoulder. The sound he makes is broken as he spills into you, muscles clenching with each pulse that paints your walls.  

Marking you thoroughly with teeth and come, the saw of his hips slowing until you both finally go still. A breath finally caught. 

Blissed out, when he rolls you both to the side. His thighs still mapping yours, cock still notched deep. A thick arm thrown across your waist, his breath ragged in your ear as he catches his breath.

Your fingers drift, as you bask in your afterglow. Dipping into the rips in your mattress, knuckle deep.

There’s a grunt as you wiggle, the words low in your ear, “I’ll get you another, sweetheart. Just lost control for a moment.”

The thought doesn’t bother you as much as you’d think. In fact, you wouldn’t mind if happened again.

Only as your imagination runs wild, do you hear the muffled moan from the brick wall behind you.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

Dramatic and drawn out, paired with faint rhythmic noise. 

A beat - before you hear mumbled protesting. The voice of someone talking with their mouth full, “No. Back the fuck off Peter, I’m not going to share.” 

Eating. The fucker was eating his end of the bargain, ear pressed to the wall.

The next louder, “Alright, pay up everyone, Operation ‘Get Sugar Some Sugar’ was a success!”

You grimace, eyes rolling. Logan grunts behind you, the words mumbled out sleepily.

“Wish I could sew that goddamn mouth shut.”

There’s a faint “they already tried that!” before Logan’s fist bangs on the wall, shutting him up.

But you can’t help the smile. Your fingers fitting between the ones that rest just below your breasts, squeezing.

“He’s not so bad,” You admit, “Wade, I mean.”

Logan groans, “Don’t say his name while I’m fucking you.”

“You’re-” You start - but then you can feel him.

Still hard - as his hips cant slowly against yours. Your joined hands slip up to cup a breast - as his lips press against your neck, stubble scraping you skin.

“Again?” You breathe, disbelieving that he’d be up for a third time - your hips rocking back to meet his. The sound lewd with how he drips from you - but it only has him grinding himself deeper, “You sure you’re two hundred?”

“Regenerative powers, sweetheart.” Logan husks, the flash of teeth with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t say it doesn’t come with perks.”

I used to have the biggest fucking crush on wolverine, haha - so fun to watch a new movie with him!! 👀💕 thank you so much for reading! And please me know if you'd like to read any more for him! (like more one-shots,etc!)

[screampied]

☆ cw. fem! reader, mating press, soft dom choso, squirtīng, p spanking, dirty talk, size kink, praise, mdni.

you tell choso it’s practically impossible to make you orgasm – and he ends up making you squirt instead.

“really?” he’d huff in a ginger cooing voice, sucking his teeth together as he watches a thick portion of his cock disappear between your sweet soddened folds. you let off a gasping moan once you glance down, getting a wide view of him easing his hefty weight into you. choso’s got you in mating press—a position he’s been wanting to try with you for a while, and with the way you were easily clenching around him had his entire body twitching. as he’s being as gentle as possible, he lets off a soft grunt before placing a bare hand on your tummy. “so you mean like . . never, baby?”

“n- never,” you inhale an incoming breath. your legs were sprawled ‘n spread — creating a stretched ‘v’ shape with your trembling feeble limbs. choso’s got a hand wrapped around his aching shaft before he starts to gradually sink inside of you deeper. “u..ughhh,” you hiss out, hearing your own wanton squelches shriek right out of your sopping pussy. choso smears a thumb down your entrance and you could see the cunt drunken grin starting to warp against his lips. “fuck, jus make me cum choso. like that, harder.”

“okay,” choso gruffly groans, his swollen sack already starting to mercilessly slap against your entrance. it’s loud numerous ‘thwap!’ ‘s and your glassy eyes widen the moment he slowly lifts up your leg just a bit higher, sexily throwing his head back with a carnal eye-flickering-roll. “just hold still,” and with one hand, he softly caresses your chin. “ ‘n keep those pretty eyes on me. gooood girl.”

intently, dark mousy eyes bore into you whilst he’s slowly driving his inside of you. you’re whimpering, already starting to hear the growling snarling creaks of the wooden bed frame ring against your ears.

“t- thaaat’s it,” choso grunts, and you can feel his honed hips tilt inward. he’s big, and with the gaping stretch he’d always create—it’s got invisible cogwheels spinning ‘n turning at the insides of your empty brain. it doesn’t take him long before he’s sensually pounding you with deep loving thorough thrusts, making sure he’s buried at the hilt. choso’s heavily panting with raspy breaths, clawing a hand through his shaggy black strands. he’s so pretty, and you couldn’t help but stare at him whilst he’s tenderly ravaging your sweet gripping walls. choso’s hair flawlessly of his flows down his narrow shoulders before he moans. “goddd, so good. doin’ so good.”

with a cute shrilling ‘oh!’ the moment his bulbous tip meanly slams into your sweetened sensitive spots, your jaw dangles agape.

he’s already reached it, and every time his body crashes into yours at full speed at such miles per fucking hour . . your skin sticks to stick against his like glue. smacking smacks of fleshy mounds gum against each other as he’s jackhammering his slim hips up and down before you shriek. “choso… ohmygod, right there. fuck me, fuh—”

“quiet,” he whispers, grabbing your chin. your eyes meet his, and as raven bangs string down his eyes, choso gives you a quick kiss. it’s sloppy, and you moan while he’s still buried balls deep. each risqué stroke has you dizzy, craving for more and as his tongue curls through the layout of your sweltering hot mouth, he briefly pulls away. choso huskily grunts, his powerful hits against your cunt creating loud squelches that resounded off the thinly-made walls. “f- fuck, hear that, baby? think she’s trying to hah . . get a word in.”

choso’s weight remains hovering over your body as he’s pounding into you. you moan, feeling his hot breath waft against your skin as he buries his face into the cove of your left shoulder. a hand reaches between your legs, and he starts to smear all kinds of circles ‘n shapes against your glittery wet cunt. wetly, he’s lightly smacking his palm against your stuffed full entrance, droplets of your honeyed juices splattering against his hand.

‘psh’ after ‘psh’ and choso grunts, hearing how you were not only vocal from your mouth, but in between your legs too. “so pretty,” he whispers, licking a stripe down your neck, softly nibbling a playful munch at your skin. “c’mon, baby. ‘m gonna need you to make a mess for me.”

oh, his hips were just the definition of fervent though.

your pussy’s hysterically gurgling out desperate sloppy pleads of want and need as your nails decorate his toned back with many many scratches. choso’s back was your own personal canvas—and he loved whenever your fingers would drag down his skin—painting areas of his flesh every single time. “cho- chosooo,” you whine out, tossing your arms over him. you could feel his back muscles tense, feeling his askew hips deepen its strenuous hits against your pussy. it was orgasmic – his rhythm alone, and your toes were already curled, mouth dropped, eyes bulged. “ ‘m gonna cum, make me cum choso.”

“uh huh. like that, you got it,” he purrs, feeling your cute legs starting to grow limp. he’s so nice with his hips, making sure he’s got the perfect angle. choso’s cock runs through you languidly, it’s slow but steady but also speedily fast. you could feel his stout cock repeatedly trying to kiss it’s way at your fluttering g-spot before you let off a trilling whine. “easy, easyyy girl,” he cups your face, a fat thumb stroking the right side of your mouth. “hey. look at me, baby. you got it,” choso repeats, and as he’s lewdly moaning right with you, bodies slamming in such luscious rapture, choso sprinkles kisses near your chin. “give it t’ me. be my messy baby, thaaaat’s it.”

right at his exact words—you felt yourself tightening up. . although something within you bursts, and you bite down on your jaw. it’s sudden, it’s so sudden that your eyes start rolling the second you realize you’re gushing down on his cock. a shaky breath leaves out of choso as he instantaneously pauses his hips—stilling his cock inside of you without moving anymore.

pretty doe-enlarged eyes with hearts swarming in his irises focuses primarily on you, and you could hear him whining out a ‘holy shiiiit’ while you mewl out your oh-so euphoric release.

it felt like forever but it was only for about three seconds, and you’re stupidly cross-eyed, moaning once choso starts to gradually pull out. “h- heh, baby chose to be wet today, huh,” and you let off a sobbing whimper once you feel him starting to smear his tip against your leaky cunt.

you’re drooling from your glossy puffed slit, and as he’s starting to politely smack his hardened cock onto your twitching heat, choso grunts. ‘you’re sooo pretty like this,’ the exact phrase that repeats in his brain like a mantra.

“let go, good girl. keep goin’. make me just as messy as you, princess,” and your brain merely short circuits. the elatedly shocking friction of his plump tip playfully hitting your soaked cunt has nothing but cute babbles departing from your babbling lips. choso drags his swollen cockhead down further, stopping at the bottom of your clit before letting out a shuddering, ‘phew.’

“c- choso, fuck,” you moan, still feeling staticky tingles roam through every vein of your body. that was unlike any feeling you’ve felt before. as his eyes soften, meeting your gaze—choso’s nudely glistening body shadows over yours. seconds later, he slowly trails his head down, propping himself between your legs. through hazy lensed eyes, you peer down, peeping at him while finding a hand of yours pawing its way through his tangled inky strands of hair. “mhh.”

“baby,” choso whispers hoarsely, his voice a bit rough and gritty from moaning for so long. such detail made you throb and he knew it too. leisurely, he’s beginning to lick a straight slope up your weeping cunt.

he can’t help but give it a open stare for a few seconds, taking your beauty from between your legs alllll in. it’s so pretty ‘n puffed — dribbling from the sides of your slick own arousal that shot out a shimmering geyser just a few seconds ago.

you’re tender, and he can’t help but slather his hot pink tongue between the crevices of your folds. “think . . you can be my sloppy girl one time?” and as he gives your pussy one quick french kiss, he pouts at you with a wry pussy drunk grin.

“pretty please?”

[chobunz]

── “ something new ” ( lhs ) 📌

๑ You and your boyfriend try face riding for the first time ever, his new #favorite position from now on.

pair: jock!heeseung ㅊ thick gf!reader | warnings: smut, dry grinding, face sitting, shaking, spanking, praise, quick death jokes, heeseung admiring you to the core, trying new things, worried reader, thirsty heeseung ftw, use of safe word | words: 918

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“fuck..” heeseung groaned, feeling your core grind on top of his clothed erect. ‘netflix and chill’, yeah it's cliché and all but it gets the sex drive going. the two of you were watching *** (show/movie name) cuddled up in bed together. you finally had the day off and what better way to spend it than with your precious, handsome boyfriend? always 100% a good time. guaranteed.

“mmh.. ‘m so wet baby.” you moaned against his mouth, if anything, after you finished you wanted his lips to be bruised, you wanted everyone to know that he had more than what he needed, you knew your worth. “you make me so wet…”

watching you ride him always struck a line in him. he was always wanting to try new things with you in the bedroom. you two have been through a series of ‘never do agains’ ‘once in a whiles’ and ‘fucking greats’, position wise. though, you were always a riding type of girl, you loved how you could feel every inch of him and even have control of him when you’re on top.

“wan’ you to ride my face this time, princess.” he breathed out as you pull away, gently caressing your skin. his hands travelled the curves of your body, all the way down to the hem of your shorts. tugging them down past your thighs.

you tip off of him to take your shorts off fully, feeling him smack your ass as in indicator to do so. “ride your face ?..” you questioned. you weren’t really sure how to ride someone’s face as you’ve never tried it before, sitting back down on his waist.

he hummed at your shyness, pulling your bottom up to his chest. “you don’ want to ?” “we don’ gotta...” he lazily spoke, not wanting you to feel pressured at all.

“no, no. i mean.. i’m definitely down. i just don’t wanna kill you..” you couldn’t help but worry, you worried about if he’d be able to breathe properly while you sat on his pretty face.

“no baby, i’d live just to die from this pussy. kill me.” he joked kissing your thigh. “wan’ you to suffocate me..” his eyes found yours biting his lip. his sight dripped from your eyes, to your lips, then your boobs, and all the way down to your wetness. he could feel the heat from your core on his bare skin.

you felt so lucky to have someone who constantly praised and worshipped you. he made you feel like a queen, which he so rightfully believed you were one. maybe even a lost princess, ready to claim the throne as yours.

and let’s not lie, you certainly did find one. which looked something like heeseung’s lap— and his face pretty soon.

๑ ๑ ๑

“heeseu.. heeseung !” your hands tugged at the strands of his hair as he licked your slate clean. you were constantly whining. your moans singing a beautiful song to heeseung’s ears.

everytime you found yourself lifting up from his mouth you felt him forcefully pulling you back down. devouring you like a lion to it’s prey. hearing him groan an ‘uhnuhn’ whenever you’d try and lighten the weight you put on his head.

his tongue entered you from time to time, stroking the side of your walls with perfection. “baby, kiwi..” you cried, patting the top of his head. when the safe word slid out of your mouth he immediately stopped.

“did i do something wrong ?” he rubbed your thighs as you shifted on top of him. the bit of worry leaving him once you hovered back over his thirsty mouth.

“mhm.. jus’ wanted to turn around..” you shakily exhaled, feeling him tighten his grip on your ass before he dove back into you.

“taste so good baby..” his hot breath fanned against your sopping core.

you brushed your fingers along his abdomen, pulling his designer briefs down far enough for his bulge to fling out. your hips rotating at just the sight alone.

“hm, no baby, just relax pretty.” he groaned, nibbling on your bud.

“please, hee..” you pleaded, rubbing his length gently.

“no, sit the fuck up.” he pulled your waist, causing you to lean up straight. a pout adorning your lips.

“but, you’re so hard baby..” “looks so good..” you grinded against his mouth once his tongue found your insides again. moaning at your neediness for him.

you felt yourself shaking just at the feel of him kissing your dewy cunt. it was so sloppy and passionate. he kissed your pussy like he loved it. and he did. he could do it for hours without complaining.

“shit.. gonna come..” you breathlessly whined.

“you’re gonna come, hmm? mama ?” he smirked against you licking through each fold. he didn’t wanna waste a single drop of you.

“yeah..” eyes closing shut at the feeling, ready to burst any minute.

“then do it.” he teased your clit, spelling out his name on the tip of your swollen bud. giggling as he could hear you falling apart above him.

“come for me baby.”

he continued praising you, cheering you on every step of the way. your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

“ugh, i’m coming.. right now..” you struggled to even speak, a last stroke of his tongue making your insides tighten. “fuck !”

your body ‘laxed on his. you were breathing heavier than ever. and even felt slight embarrassment for yourself.

“shit princess, you just squirted..” he caressed your shivering ass; licking his cumstache with a ‘good girl.’

“hmmm...”

ヾ(≧▽≦)o

want to read more ?? click here for a part 2 !!