#help I’m dummy thick

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨*

Pairing: Jisung x Reader (Smut)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Aphrodisiac, Oral (M), Choking/Hair Pulling(M), Multiple: Rounds/Orgams/Creampies, Riding, Unprotected sex. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.

Find Request Here

-🖤

Jisung had just came home from the store. He had gotten some new chocolates he said tasted really good. When he showed them to you, you couldn’t help but laugh “Ji you know what these are right?” You asked.

“Uhm- good chocolate?” He said.

“These are aphrodisiac chocolate, they’re supposed to make you super horny” you said laughing even harder.

He rolled his eyes “those don’t work”

“Whatever you say, we still going into the studio?” You asked.

“Yeah I gotta get that song done” he replied back.

A little bit later you both headed to the studio. He sat down to work zoning in on his song while you sat on the couch playing on your laptop. It had only been about an hour since he had eaten those chocolates but boy were they hitting him hard now. He felt hot, his cock painfully hard for no reason. He could see the little spot on his pants from the precum. Any movement he made his cock rubbed against his pants making him bite back a moan. He was so so sensitive.

In his clouded thoughts you had gotten up to see how the song was coming along. Your hand brushing over his back making his body even hotter. “Y/n” he whispered.

When you answered back with a hum he turned his chair around. His eyes were hazy, face a bit red. You could see the outline of his cock in his sweats. “Oh- thought those didn’t work hmm?” You said with a grin.

“I’m so hard it almost hurts” he whimpered. “Help me please” he said those big doe eyes looking up at you.

You wanted to have a little fun with this. Jisung was a pretty needy person as it was however this was next level. You wanted to see how much he’d beg “tell me how much you want me, tell me what you want me to do” as you said straddled him. The pure pressure of your body against him was enough to have him drooling. “I want you so badly please- I fuck- do anything I just need you baby” he whined. He grabbed ahold of your hips rolling himself against you. “Please anything y/n fuck-“ he groaned out.

When you got up from him making him whine loudly. Hands chasing after you, you couldn’t help but feel turned on. Jisung was begging so nicely. “Gotta take your pants off Ji” you said getting down on your knees to pull them down. When his cock was finally free he let out a sigh of relief, his cock was so hard. The amount of precum leaking from the tip had your body moving before you could think. You quickly licked over the head his eyes going wide as his hips bucked up. “S-sensitive” he mustered out.

His words only driving you more as you took him back your throat. His head falling back hands frantically gripping at your head. He pushed his hips up to meet your movement letting out the most desperate moans. “I’m already so fucking close-“ he said.

He gripped your head rougher before pushing into your mouth faster. Fucking into your mouth with such need. His cock head hitting the back of your throat. You swirled your tongue around his cock as he used your mouth. You could feel the drool dripping from the sides of your mouth, eyes blinking as tears pricked at them. When you brought your hand up to massage his heavy balls his body stuttered. “Shit- shit!” He moaned out before pushing harshly back your throat. Streams of cum pouring down your throat.

You swallows around him before his hands came to cup your face. He moved quickly pulling your body up to him, slipping your sweats down. He groaned seeing you had no panties on “since when did you not wear panties?” He said.

“Since my dummy of a boyfriend took aphrodisiacs” you said with a chuckle.

You positioned your body on top of him his hands gripping at your hips once more. When you aligned him with your cunt he gave no warnings before pushing into you. He bottomed out quickly his long thick cock hitting your cervix almost instantly. He pulled your body to him fucking up into you ruthlessly. His pace was fast and deep his already overstimulated cock pounding into you.

His nails were digging ever so nicely into your skin, his head in the crook of your neck. His moans were full of need and desperation. “Ji- fuck you feel so good- gonna have to get you more of those” you teased.

He nipped at your neck in response “you’re gonna take them with me next time” he said. He wrapped his arms around you lifting you up. He wrapped your legs around him moving you to the couch. Laying you back down against the couch he pushed your legs up to your chest. His hand came down to toy with your clit before his movements continued.

The new angle made him feel even deeper. His balls smacked against your skin as his pace became quicker. “Fuck- fuck- y/n you feel- fuck you feel to good- m’close” he whined out. Your hand came up to his head gripping at his hair before tugging on it slightly. He liked his hair being pulled almost more than he liked being choked.

The tug was enough to send him over the edge, his cock twitching as it painted your walls. He didn’t stop though oh no. If anything it made him more desperate to do it again. To have you cum with him this time. His hand that was on your clit moved down swiping the cum that dared to fall. He brought his fingers up to you and you happily sucked them clean. Jisung may have a bit of an oral fixation cause when you kept sucking on his fingers he let out the most pornagraphic moan you’ve ever heard from him.

His body was becoming a bit limp from already cuming so much. You took the opportunity of his jello like body to push him back on his back. You straddled him once more before bouncing on his cock. He moaned loudly hands digging back into your sock ass. “Gonna cum again for me ji? Gonna fill me full and let me cum all over your sensitive cock hmm?” You said.

He nodded “y-yes, please- fuck- cum baby” he said. Your hand quickly came down wrapping perfectly around his throat. You rode him relentlessly. His cock bullying its way against your cervix. Your head falling back in the pleasure. You jumped feeling Jisungs hand playing with your clit again. The way your cunt clenched around him had him seeing stars. He dug his feet into the couch before thrusting into you.

His thrusts met yours “gonna-“ you said softly before Jisung thrusted up once more. “Cumming!” You almost screamed as your high flooded over you. Waves of pleasure head your cunt squeezing him hard. His mouth hung open as he came once more. Both of your bodies shaking. You let go of jisung throat laying your body against his.

Both of you tried to regain your breathing. It was only when you went to move did you notice. Jisung was still hard. “How much of that chocolate did you eat?” You asked.

“Uhm.. like 3 bars” he said softly.

“Jisung- are you serious? You’re probably gonna be hard for like 2 hours” you said with a chuckle.

“Let’s go home and I’ll fuck you on every surface” he said.

“How about we get a drink first and then go home” he smiled.

He nodded. When you got home he kept his promise. He fucked you in every room and any place he could. His cock only softening after almost the 10th orgasm. He was so raw by that point his poor cock red and way over sensitive. You were no better though. You had cum about half that amount however the last orgasm had you squirting all over him.

You both laid on the floor breathing heavily before he got up. He ran you both a warm bath grabbing water and some snacks. With no words he pulled you to the bathroom. Snuggled up in the bath he kissed you softly. “Remind me to read labels next time” he chucked.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[kaxserlvr]

It starts with a simple text.

Nagi: Where r u?

You barely have time to read it before another one pops up.

Nagi: I miss u.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. It’s only been a few hours since you last saw him, but Nagi is always like this—lazy, clingy, and absolutely hopeless without you.

Before you can even type out a response, your phone starts buzzing.

“Nagi?” you answer, amused.

His voice comes through, soft and sleepy. “Come over.”

“It’s late,” you point out. “And you were literally fine a few hours ago.”

A groan. Then, “No, I wasn’t.”

You sigh dramatically. “You were breathing, weren’t you?”

“Barely,” he mutters. “It’s too much of a hassle being without you.”

Your heart squeezes at the pure neediness in his voice. You can already picture him sprawled across his bed, hair a mess, probably pouting into his pillow like some abandoned puppy.

“Sei—”

“I can’t sleep,” he interrupts. “My bed feels empty.”

“You mean your bed is too big?”

“No. I mean, it’s empty without you.”

You bite your lip, warmth spreading through your chest. He’s so needy like this, and he doesn’t even try to hide it.

“Come over,” he repeats, softer this time. “Please?”

It’s the please that gets you.

You sigh, grabbing your things. “I’m on my way.”

The sound of him exhaling in relief makes your heart flutter. “Hurry.”

By the time you get to Nagi’s place, it’s nearly midnight, and you half expect him to be asleep already. But as soon as you open the door to his room, he’s wide awake, sitting up in bed with the neediest, most pitiful look on his face. His white hair is messy, his hoodie slightly askew, and his eyes—heavy-lidded and unbearably soft—are locked onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him alive.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters, voice thick with sleep.

You scoff, kicking off your shoes. “It’s been, like, twenty minutes.”

“Felt like forever.” He flops onto his back with a dramatic sigh, then stretches his arms out toward you, palms open. “Come here.”

You don’t even get the chance to tease him before he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you onto the bed. You let out a small yelp as you fall against his chest, and instantly, he wraps himself around you, his long limbs caging you in like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“You’re so desperate,” you mumble against his hoodie, but you don’t push him away.

Nagi just hums, nuzzling into your hair. “Yeah.” He doesn’t even try to deny it. His hands slide to your waist, holding you firm against him. “Missed you so much.”

“You saw me earlier.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles. “Need you here all the time.”

His voice is quiet, almost pleading, and it makes your stomach flip. You’re used to his clinginess, his laziness, but tonight—it’s worse. His hold on you is tight, his fingers fisting the fabric of your shirt like he’s scared you’ll leave.

“You good?” you ask, pulling back just enough to see his face.

Nagi pouts, actually pouts, looking away. “…Dunno. Just feel better when you’re here.”

Your heart melts. He’s so soft for you.

You lean in and press a kiss to his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere, you dummy.”

He exhales, his whole body relaxing against you. “Good,” he mumbles. Then, as if to make sure, he hooks his leg over yours, locking you in place.

You huff a laugh. “I wasn’t gonna move.”

“Just making sure,” he murmurs, already starting to drift off, completely wrapped around you.

And you let him, because honestly? You don’t mind.

[evermoreness]

moonlight and mending pt. 2 | remus lupin

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: since taking care of remus after his full moon, both of you became inseparable.

obs: this is the second part of a series. please read the first part before this one and part three after it.

masterlist

The library at Hogwarts had always been one of the few places that felt like a sanctuary. Unlike the bustling corridors or the chaotic Gryffindor common room, it was peaceful—just the quiet rustling of pages, the occasional scratching of quills, and the warm scent of parchment and ink.

It had become routine for you and Remus to meet there after classes, settling into your usual spot by the tall windows where the light streamed in just right.

This particular afternoon was no different.

The library was quiet, as it usually was in the late afternoon as Remus entered. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the wooden tables and shelves.

Remus searched for you in the middle of many people.

Most students were scattered in groups, whispering over essays or practicing spells under their breath.

You, however, were sitting cross-legged on your chair, the table was between two tall windows, you were completely engrossed in a thick, ancient-looking tome resting in your lap. Your brows were furrowed in concentration, and you absentmindedly chewed on the end of your quill as you traced a line of text with your fingertip. You even had a little cup of tea.

Remus let out a little smile when he spotted you.

He sat down across from you without a word, leaning back against the chair with a tired sigh.

You glanced up, smiling. “You found me.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “I wasn’t looking.”

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

“…Maybe a little,” he admitted, smirking.

You grinned, then gestured to your book. “What brings you here, Lupin?”

He tapped the cover with one finger. “You, apparently. What are you reading?”

“A book on advanced healing spells,” you said, flipping the page. “I found a new one I want to try.”

Remus gave you a skeptical look. “On who?”

You smirked. “Dummies, for now. But if you ever want to volunteer…”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You just love fixing people, don’t you?”

“I do, actually.” You grinned. “I like knowing I can make things better.”

Remus watched you for a moment, something warm curling in his chest. You always want to help. It was something he wasn’t used to.

“Speaking of fixing people,” you continued, your eyes scanning him critically, “how are you feeling?”

Remus blinked at the sudden shift. “I—I’m fine.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You always say that.”

“That’s because it’s true,” he said, smirking slightly.

You weren’t convinced. Slowly, you leaned closer, reaching out before he could stop you.

Remus stiffened as your fingertips brushed his wrist, gentle but firm, as if you were checking for injuries.

“I know you get hurt often,” you murmured, your voice softer now. “And I know you don’t like talking about it.”

His throat felt dry. “I—”

Before he could think of a way to steer the conversation elsewhere, you shifted closer, your eyes flicking toward his collar.

Your fingers hovered over the edge of his sleeve. “Can I?”

Remus swallowed hard. He should say no. He should move away.

Instead, he nodded.

Carefully, you rolled his sleeve up, revealing the faint remnants of scars littered across his forearm. Some were thin and pale, long healed. Others were newer, still slightly pink against his skin.

You traced a finger over one of them absentmindedly, your touch featherlight.

Remus tensed at first, but then—he relaxed.

No one ever touched his scars like this. Not with curiosity, not with gentleness.

You weren’t disgusted. You weren’t asking questions he couldn’t answer.

You were just… looking.

“Does this one still hurt?” you asked, pointing to a deeper mark near his wrist.

He shook his head. “Not really.”

You hummed, looking thoughtful. “I could make a salve for it, you know. It would help with the tightness.”

Remus chuckled. “Are you always trying to heal me?”

“Yes,” you said immediately, smirking. “You’re my favorite patient, after all.”

His heart stuttered. “I—your favorite?”

You grinned. “Of course! You’re the most interesting one. And you actually listen when I tell you to rest.”

He laughed at that. “That’s only because I don’t want Madam Pomfrey to hex me.”

You nudged him playfully. “I could test some potions on you.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if I should be worried about that.”

You gasped dramatically. “I’ll have you know, I am excellent at making potions.”

“I believe that,” he said, smirking. “It’s the testing part I’m concerned about.”

You rolled your eyes. “You wound me, Lupin. I would never give you something unsafe.”

“That’s what every potioneer says before something explodes.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fine. I’ll just keep testing them on myself.”

Remus frowned at that. “You test them?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, as if it was obvious. “How else am I supposed to know if they work?”

His brows knit together in concern. “That’s—reckless.”

You smirked. “Says the boy who gets new injuries every month.”

Remus opened his mouth to argue but… yeah, you had a point.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Just—be careful, alright?”

Your expression softened. “I always am.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You were still close, your fingers still barely touching his arm.

Remus wasn’t sure if he wanted to move away.

Then, you pulled back, clearing your throat. “I should get back to studying.”

He exhaled, nodding. “Yeah. Me too.”

But he didn’t move.

Neither did you.

After what seemed like minutes, both of you started actually studying. The silence was comfortable, despite the bit of tension you just had.

The time was passing by quickly.

You were seated across from each other at a wooden table, books spread between you. Your Potions essay was half-written, but your attention had long since drifted. Every so often, you’d glance up and find yourself watching him instead.

Remus was utterly absorbed in his book, elbow propped on the table, fingers absently toying with the edge of a page. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his lips moved faintly, as if he were reading something particularly interesting. His hair was slightly ruffled—probably from running his hands through it—and he looked so comfortable, so himself here.

“You’re staring,” he murmured without looking up.

You smirked. “You’re interesting to look at.”

His lips twitched, but he kept his eyes on the page. “Are you actually studying, or are you just here to distract me?”

“A little of both,” you admitted, tapping your quill against your parchment. “You make for excellent entertainment, Lupin.”

He finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. “How thrilling for me.”

You grinned. “Truly. I should start charging you for my company.”

He snorted. “Oh, should you?”

“Mm-hmm,” you said, nodding seriously. “It’s a privilege to study with me.”

Remus leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “And what exactly does this privilege include?”

You pretended to think. “Exclusive access to my brilliant mind, occasional help with Potions, and—” you reached into your bag, pulling out a small bar of chocolate, “—snacks.”

His eyes flickered to the chocolate, and you swore you saw a glint of excitement before he schooled his features. “Alright, now I’m listening.”

You slid the chocolate across the table. “It’s yours if you admit I’m your favorite study partner.”

Remus eyed you, then the chocolate. He exhaled dramatically. “Fine. You’re my favorite study partner.”

You gasped, pressing a hand to your chest. “I knew it!”

He rolled his eyes but took the chocolate, unwrapping it with careful fingers. “Merlin help me,” he muttered.

You watched as he broke off a piece, popping it into his mouth. He let out a quiet sigh of contentment, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You really do love chocolate, don’t you?” you mused.

Remus swallowed, licking his lips. “It’s… comforting.”

Something about the way he said it made your heart squeeze. You didn’t press further, just stored that little detail away for later.

A comfortable silence settled over you again, the only sounds being the occasional turning of pages. After a while, you reached for your tea, only to frown when you realized it had gone cold.

Remus noticed immediately. Without a word, he flicked his wand, and the tea warmed instantly, small wisps of steam curling from the cup.

You blinked. “Did you just—”

“You looked disappointed,” he said simply, smirking slightly.

You beamed at him. “You’re my favorite person today.”

His ears turned slightly pink, and he quickly looked back at his book, clearing his throat. “Don’t let Sirius hear you say that. He’ll be devastated.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll make it up to him with a prank potion.”

Remus chuckled, still focused on his book. “You’re becoming just as bad as them.”

“Oh, I know,” you said, grinning. “It’s fun.”

He shook his head but didn’t argue.

And so, you continued, side by side, the library feeling a little warmer, a little brighter, simply because of each other’s presence.

Just to see you.

The bond between you and Remus had grown stronger with every passing day. You had become—if not his closest friend—at least the one person he felt safest with.

He found himself looking for you in between classes, in the library, at meals, but more often than not, he knew exactly where to find you: the hospital wing.

And that’s where he started showing up. A lot.

Remus didn’t really need to be in the hospital wing that often. In fact, besides full moons, he rarely had a reason to be there at all. But ever since he’d started spending more time with you, he found himself dropping by for no reason other than to see you.

At first, he had excuses. A headache. A sore throat. An aching wrist from falling down the stairs (which, you later discovered, was a complete lie). But after a while, he stopped bothering with the excuses and just showed up because he wanted to.

Madam Pomfrey, of course, was less than impressed

“Back again, Lupin?” Madam Pomfrey’s exasperated voice rang from her desk. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to move in.”

Remus, standing just inside the doorway, did his best i-am-so-sick face. “I think I might be coming down with something.”

Madam Pomfrey gave him a look. “You’re perfectly fine.”

“You don’t know that,” he said, feigning innocence. “I could be terribly ill.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Remus, you’re not sick.”

He turned to you with an expression of offense. “You don’t believe me either? What if I’m suffering in silence?”

“You’re always suffering in silence,” you teased, finishing up your work and setting the salve aside.

Madam Pomfrey huffed, waving a hand at him. “Fine, sit over there if you must, but don’t get in the way.”

She bustled off, muttering about nonsense and teenage distractions, leaving you and Remus grinning at each other.

You nudged him playfully. “You know, one of these days, she’s going to hex you out of here.”

He smiled, leaning against the nearest cot. “Worth it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading in your chest. You loved when he came to see you. Even after long hours of tending to students, even when exhaustion pulled at your limbs, seeing him standing there—soft smile, warm eyes—made it all worth it.

“What are you working on today?” he asked, nodding to the tray of potions.

“Restocking,” you replied. “There’s always someone needing Skele-Gro or Pepper-Up this time of year.”

He chuckled. “Ah, the season of Quidditch injuries and common colds.”

“Exactly,” you said, carefully sorting the bottles. “Last week, a Ravenclaw tried to fly his broom inside the common room and ended up with a broken wrist.”

Remus snorted. “And people say we’re reckless.”

You smirked. “You are reckless.”

“Not me,” he protested. “That’s all James and Sirius.”

You gave him a pointed look. “Remus. You enable them.”

“…Fair point.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “And what about you? How was class?”

Remus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “McGonagall assigned an essay on advanced transfiguration spells. I might actually have to put effort into this one.”

You grinned. “Oh no. Effort.”

Remus chuckled, glancing at you. “I just think it’s fascinating. You go to class all day like the rest of us, and instead of resting after, you come here and take care of people.”

You smiled softly. “I like helping. It doesn’t feel like work when you love it.”

He studied you for a moment, then said quietly, “That’s… admirable.”

You felt warmth spread in your chest, but before you could respond, he smirked. “And slightly insane.”

You gasped. “Take that back, Lupin.”

“Never.”

You shoved him lightly, and he laughed, the sound soft and genuine.

After a moment, he tilted his head. “You like when I come here, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I love having an incredibly healthy, completely uninjured patient taking up space.”

He grinned. “Thought so.”

You shook your head, but you didn’t tell him to leave. And he didn’t move.

Because, if you were being honest, you did love when he came up to see you.

Two sides of the same coin.

One afternoon, you were sitting in the courtyard with your Potions book open, scribbling notes in the margins. The autumn breeze ruffled your hair as you absentmindedly chewed the end of your quill.

“Oi, Moony, you’ve been replaced,” James announced dramatically.

You looked up just as the Marauders approached, grinning.

Remus, sitting beside you, raised an eyebrow. “Replaced?”

“By that,” Sirius said, pointing accusingly at your Potions textbook. “She spends more time with it than with you.”

You laughed. “Not true.”

Sirius smirked. “No? When was the last time you had a proper conversation that wasn’t about healing potions or magical remedies, or how to properly fix Moony’s self-inflicted injuries?"

You blinked, opening your mouth—then closing it again.

James gasped. “You can’t remember, can you?”

You turned to Remus. “Tell them that’s not true.”

Remus smirked. “Well…”

You gaped at him. “Remus!”

Peter snickered. “I think you might actually love books more than you love us.”

You sighed dramatically, closing your book. “Fine. What would you all prefer I do? Set fire to my studies and embrace a life of chaos?”

Sirius grinned. “Now we’re talking.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Merlin help us.”

James flopped onto the grass beside you. “You know, it’s weird.”

“What is?” you asked.

He gestured between you and Remus. “You two. You’re like… opposite sides of the same coin.”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah. Moony’s all broody and quiet, and you’re—”

“Loud?” you offered, raising an eyebrow.

“Delightfully chatty,” Sirius corrected with a smirk.

Peter grinned. “It’s kind of nice, though. Remus actually smiles more now.”

Remus huffed. “I smiled before.”

James waved a dismissive hand. “Not like this.”

You glanced at Remus, amused. “Do you smile differently now?”

Remus, looking slightly flustered, cleared his throat. “Ignore them.”

Sirius gasped, clutching his chest. “How dare you? We are your dearest friends!”

James threw an arm around Remus. “We just want you to be happy, Moony. And she makes you happy.”

Remus opened his mouth to argue, but Sirius cut in, smirking. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it out loud. We can see it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You lot are ridiculous.”

And the Marauders weren’t wrong.

You did make him happy.

Remus sighed, rubbing his temples as if this entire conversation was giving him a headache. But the little smile on his face gave him away. He liked this—having his friends tease him, having you beside him.

You smirked, leaning slightly toward him. “I think they just like gossiping about us, Rem.”

The second the nickname slipped from your lips, Remus went still.

So did the Marauders.

Then—

“Rem?!” Sirius practically howled with laughter, clutching his stomach. “Did you just—did you just call him Rem?!”

James had already fallen backward onto the grass, cackling. “Oh, this is—this is amazing.”

Peter gasped dramatically. “Rem! That’s so—sweet!”

You frowned, confused at their reaction. “What? It’s just a nickname.”

“It’s adorable, that’s what it is!” Sirius grinned, nudging Remus with his foot. “Oi, Rem, how come she gets to call you that, huh?”

Remus was still frozen in place, his ears tinged bright red.

“Oh, he likes it,” James teased, pointing at Remus’s flustered expression. “Look at him! He’s all—” He waved his hands in the air, mimicking someone completely lost for words.

Remus finally snapped out of it, clearing his throat. “Shut up.”

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows. “Make us.”

You bit back a laugh, leaning against Remus slightly. “So? Do you hate it, Rem?”

Remus turned his head to look at you, his golden-brown eyes studying you for a second. You could see the war going on in his mind—the part of him that wanted to roll his eyes at the teasing, and the part that secretly loved the nickname.

“…No,” he muttered, voice quieter.

James gasped again, clutching his heart. “I knew it!”

Sirius wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “Our Moony is growing up.”

Peter sniffled dramatically. “So proud.”

Remus groaned, shoving his face into his hands. “I hate all of you.”

You giggled, nudging him. “But not me, right?”

He peeked at you between his fingers, then sighed in defeat. “Not you.”

James and Sirius howled at that, and you just grinned.

You had won this round.

Another full moon.

The hospital wing was quiet in the early morning, the first rays of dawn barely creeping through the tall windows.

Remus stumbled through the door, his limbs aching, his skin burning, his throat raw.

This one had been worse.

He hadn’t even made it back to his dorm this time—Madam Pomfrey had been waiting for him outside the Whomping Willow, her wand ready, her expression tight with worry. She had levitated him all the way back, and he barely had the strength to protest.

Now, as she tried to ease him onto the hospital bed, he resisted.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “I just need to get to my dorm.”

“Remus,” Pomfrey sighed, exasperated, “you can barely stand.”

He gritted his teeth, trying to push himself up. “I can—”

But the moment he moved, pain shot through his body like fire. His knees nearly buckled, and Pomfrey had to catch him before he collapsed onto the floor.

She huffed. “That’s it. You are staying.”

Remus groaned, letting his head fall back against the pillows as he clenched his jaw. He felt awful. Worse than usual. And something was missing—

No. Someone was missing.

His tired eyes scanned the room. But you weren’t here.

A sharp pang settled in his chest.

He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of being patched up without you made his stomach twist.

Maybe it was because you were gentle with him.

Maybe it was because you always talked to him through the pain, giving him something to focus on.

Or maybe—maybe it was because you were the only person he truly felt safe with.

Madam Pomfrey noticed the way his gaze darted around the room.

“She’s not here,” she said, understanding immediately.

Remus clenched his fists, trying to ignore the crushing disappointment.

“I’ll be fine, then,” he muttered, trying to sit up again. “I’ll come back later.”

“Absolutely not.” Pomfrey pressed him back down with surprising strength. “You are staying right here, and I’ll go get her.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “You—what?”

“She’s the only one you actually listen to, apparently,” Pomfrey said dryly. “So if it gets you to stay put, I’ll fetch her.”

Remus swallowed. He didn’t argue.

Pomfrey disappeared through the doors, leaving him alone. His head lolled to the side, exhaustion weighing on him like a stone. He had never needed anyone before. Not really. He was used to handling things alone.

But you—

Merlin, he just wanted you here.

Madam Pomfrey quickly asked a student that was heading towards the great hall for breakfast to send you her message.

A few moments later, a sharp knock at your door startled you awake.

Groggy and confused, you sat up, blinking against the dim light.

“Who—?”

Another knock, more urgent this time.

You threw your blanket off, quickly padding across the room. When you opened the door, a younger student stood there, looking slightly nervous.

“Madam Pomfrey sent me,” they said hurriedly. “She said you’re needed in the hospital wing.”

Your heart clenched.

Remus.

It had to be Remus.

“Is he okay?” you asked immediately.

The student shrugged. “I don’t know. She just said it was urgent.”

You didn’t waste another second. You grabbed the first sweater you could find, pulling it over your nightdress before slipping into your shoes.

You ran the whole way there.

The doors swung open, and your breath hitched at the sight of him.

Remus was lying on the hospital bed, looking worse than you had ever seen him. His face was ghostly pale, deep shadows under his tired eyes. His arms and chest were wrapped in fresh bandages (Thanks to Madam Pomfrey) but you could see angry red scars peeking out beneath the gauze.

Your heart twisted painfully.

“Remus,” you breathed, stepping closer.

His head turned at the sound of your voice. And when his tired, stormy eyes met yours—something inside you melted.

“Hey,” he rasped, the corner of his lips tugging into the weakest version of his usual smirk. “Took you long enough.”

You let out a shaky breath, relieved he could still joke.

“I had to run here,” you muttered, sitting beside him. “You owe me for that.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, but the movement made him wince.

You reached for his hand instinctively.

He didn’t pull away.

You laced your fingers through his, squeezing gently. “You’re a mess, Lupin.”

He sighed. “You should see the other guy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d rather see the idiot who keeps getting himself hurt like this.”

His smirk faded slightly.

"It's alright, i just fell down the stairs"

You knew he wouldn’t tell you the truth. Not yet. But you didn’t push.

Your fingers traced over his knuckles absentmindedly, your eyes still scanning him like you were memorizing every wound. He could feel the concern rolling off you in waves.

You reached up to his face, touching his forehead slightly.

“You’re burning up,” she murmured, shifting to grab a damp cloth from the bedside table.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

You scoffed. “Liar.”

Remus didn’t even have the strength to argue.

You pressed the cool cloth to his forehead, your touch featherlight. The contrast of cold against his feverish skin sent a shiver through him, but he didn’t protest.

“Better?” you asked softly.

He hummed in response, his eyelids fluttering shut.

You were always so gentle with him.

Not that he didn’t appreciate Madam Pomfrey—he did. But Pomfrey was brisk, efficient, always focused on getting him patched up as quickly as possible.

But you—

You lingered.

You stayed.

And Remus didn’t even realize how much he needed that until now.

He exhaled. “You’re too nice to me.”

You tilted your head, watching him. “Would you rather I be mean?”

He cracked one eye open, smirking weakly. “Maybe. Might make me feel less… soft.”

You laughed softly, dipping the cloth in cool water before pressing it to his cheek. “I like being nice to you.”

His breath hitched, but he said nothing.

For the next few minutes, you worked in silence—replacing his bandages, cleaning his wounds, making sure he was comfortable.

You knew he was in pain.

So you did what you always did: you talked to him.

“You know, I was just thinking earlier,” you mused, dabbing at a particularly nasty scrape on his arm. “You owe me at least three chocolate bars by now.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Three?”

“Yes,” you said seriously. “One for running here, one for putting up with your stubbornness, and one for not shaking you until you tell me what happened.”

Remus chuckled. “That last one should be worth at least two bars.”

You grinned. “Alright, four.”

His tired smile lingered as he let his head rest back against the pillow. “I’ll get you chocolate.”

You smirked. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

His smirk lingered, but as you reached for his face, he flinched.

You inspected his newest scar. The scar went from his bottom lip to his jaw. It wasn't bleeding much, but it was still there.

You both were very close, mere inches apart. Your thumb running gently through his jaw.

He tried to pull away, but you held firm, carefully turning his head to inspect the deep, half-healed scratches trailing down.

You lips pressed into a thin line.

“Remus,” you said quietly, “this wasn’t from falling off the stairs, or even from fighting with someone else.”

His breath hitched.

You were too observant. Too smart. Too caring.

It was dangerous.

He swallowed, trying to force a smirk. “What, you don’t believe my excellent fighting skills?”

You didn’t even blink. “No.”

Remus looked away, his jaw tightening.

You exhaled softly.

But instead of pressing him further—

You simply dipped the cloth in cool water and resumed your work.

“I won’t push,” she murmured, gently dabbing at the wound. “But I do want you to take care of yourself.”

His chest ached at her words.

Because if you knew the truth, if you knew what he was, you would probably run in the opposite direction.

Wouldn’t you?

People feared werewolves.

They didn’t stay.

But you were still here.

Still touching him like he wasn’t a monster.

Still looking at him like he was worth something.

Remus exhaled shakily, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.

“I like it when you’re here,” he found himself whispering.

The moment the words left his mouth, his face flushed.

But instead of teasing him, instead of brushing it off—

You just smiled.

A small, soft thing, like you understood.

And then, ever so gently, you squeezed his hand.

“I’ll always be here, Remus.”

His breath caught in his throat.

For the first time in a long, long while—

He believed it.

The warmth of your hand lingered against his face as you pulled away, and Remus could still feel the ghost of your touch even as you reached for the last roll of bandages.

You had been tending to him for what felt like hours, moving with a patience that made his chest ache. Every touch was careful, precise. Every movement filled with an unspoken tenderness he wasn’t used to.

And the worst part?

He liked it.

Too much.

Your fingertips brushed over his forearm, tracing lightly over the edge of a scar.

He shivered.

"Cold?" You asked, glancing up.

Remus swallowed thickly. "No. Just—your hands are warm."

A small, knowing smile tugged at your lips. "Well, that’s a first. Normally, they’re freezing."

You carefully tied off the last bandage on his arm before sitting back slightly, examining your work.

"There. All patched up," you announced.

Remus let out a breath. "Thanks."

"Of course," you murmured. Then, your eyes flickered to his uniform—torn at the sleeves, stained with remnants of blood and dirt. You frowned. "You can't stay in that, Rem."

He blinked. "I—what?"

You raised an eyebrow, as if it were obvious. "Your uniform. It's ruined. You need to change into something clean."

Remus stiffened. His entire body ached, too exhausted to even think about moving. And besides, the thought of you seeing more of the mess that was his body—his scars, his bruises, his truth—made something tighten in his chest.

"I'm fine," he muttered, looking away.

You crossed your arms. "Liar."

He huffed. "I can change myself, you know."

You gave him a pointed look. "Oh? And how exactly are you planning on getting your shirt off when you can barely lift your arms?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

Damn. You had a point.

You sighed, softer this time. "Just let me help, okay?"

There was something in your tone—something so gentle, so patient, that all of his defenses cracked at once.

Remus exhaled, slumping slightly against the pillows. "...Fine."

You smiled triumphantly.

Then, ever so carefully, you reached for the first button of his shirt.

His breath hitched.

You were focused, your fingers working quickly but delicately, as if you were afraid of hurting him.

"Let me know if anything hurts," you murmured, concentrating.

Remus was pretty sure his heart was the only thing hurting right now.

You undid each button with care, peeling the fabric away from his tired skin. He tried not to stiffen under her gaze, tried not to flinch as your fingertips brushed over the raised scars littering his torso.

You said nothing about them.

No gasp of horror. No pitying glance.

You just...took him as he was.

Like it was normal.

Like he was normal.

He forced himself to breathe.

Once his shirt was off, you reached for the set of fresh pajamas Madam Pomfrey had left for him.

"Alright, arms up," you instructed.

Remus groaned. "You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?"

You grinned. "A little."

He rolled his eyes but obeyed, letting you slip the soft fabric of the pajama top over his shoulders. You guided his arms through the sleeves carefully, mindful of his bandages.

As you adjusted the collar, smoothing it out against his skin.

You gave him the pyjama pants, turning around so you couldn't see him changing. Remus smiled at that, already doing the best he could to change his clothes.

"Don't peek" He said

"I am not" You stiffened a laugh. You could hear him wincing every five seconds while changing his clothes.

After what felt like he just ran a marathon, he groaned as he fell back in the hospital bed. "You can turn around now"

"Better?" You asked softly.

Remus swallowed hard.

It was better. Not just because of the clean clothes, but because of you. Because you were here, because you were touching him so gently, because you were looking at him like he wasn’t something to be feared.

He nodded. "...Yeah."

You smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. "Good."

By the time you finished tucking the blankets around him, exhaustion was pressing heavily against his limbs.

His body was aching, drained, but he still fought the pull of sleep.

Because if he slept, you might leave.

And he wasn’t ready for that.

But you seemed to sense his struggle.

You sat down on the stool beside him, leaning forward slightly, your elbow resting on the edge of his bed.

"I’ll stay," you murmured. "At least for a little while."

His breath caught.

He didn’t deserve you.

But Merlin, he wanted you.

"...Okay," he whispered.

You smiled softly, reaching out to brush your fingers through his hair.

And that—

That was the final thing that broke him.

Your touch was slow, soothing, gliding through his hair in gentle, repetitive motions.

He sighed, his body instinctively leaning into the warmth of your hand.

"Sleep, Remus," you whispered.

His eyelids fluttered.

"You're...too nice to me," he mumbled sleepily.

You let out a soft laugh. "Someone has to be."

Remus wanted to say more.

He wanted to tell you that you were a ray of sunshine in his dark world.

But sleep was pulling him under—

And all he could feel was the warmth of your hand in his hair, the softness of your voice lingering in the air.

For the first time after a full moon, he slept peacefully.

[chuuniversal]

𐙚 | TELL ME YOU NEED ME

cw: whiny! reader, teasing, f! reader, cream pie, clit stimulation, 🦾, caleb is kinda condescending but it’s hot so! MDNI! blank/ ageless blogs will be blocked <3

being so needy and embarrassingly horny that you try to throw hints that fly over your sweet boyfriend caleb’s head:( cuddled up and “adjusting yourself” against his bulge, not wearing any panties so it’s easier for him to access your needy cunt. it’s been an hour and he still hasn’t gotten the clue and fucked your brains out.

it’s so bad you have to spell it out for him as if it’s not embarrassing enough, wiggling your ass against him and taking one of his thick fingers to suck on. it isn’t until then that your bf has an “ooh!” moment and acts accordingly, pulling your shorts to the side and toying with your clit.

“you’re a mess down here, were you really waiting for me? i had no clue, poor baby.” caleb whispers, kissing your neck as an apology. “a-about time, dummy…” you whine, the yummy sensation of him spreading you on his fingers making you shudder. little did you know, caleb already knew what you wanted. playing dumb so you got all worked up and needy for his touch, he just didn’t expect for you to make the first move. he gets off on pushing all of your cute little buttons.

its not long until he has you laid on your back and he’s crowding over you, his heavy cock rubbing in between your slick puffy folds. you’re so impatient and pouty that he finds it adorable almost, glossed lips quivering and brows scrunched together as you paw at his chest for him to push it in. his tip continues to bump against your sticky clit, slick collecting on the head and shaft. “my my, i think my pretty girl forgot her manners,” he coos, his voice layered in a thick honey. he slaps your pussy a few times with his cock, the weight of it sends shivers through your legs.

“i know you can use that sweet brain of yours and ask nicely for what you want, yeah?” his hips continue their prior rhythm, his length gliding in between you as he waits on you to whine the magic words. you’re so beyond frustrated, your mind so clouded with need that you give in, as much as you hate to.

“p-please caleb…fuck me…stick it in i can’t take it anymore…”

you’re so pretty when you’re pliant and needy for him and only him, caleb knows you can’t help it sometimes, especially with him being away for long periods at a time. he pushes his cock in slowly, warm tight rings of muscle hugging around him. “there we go, princess. i knew you could do it.” he coos as his hips thrust into you, your body jolting in tandem. he pushes your legs to you chest, his cock sinking deeper into your heat until it presses against that spongy sweet spot. the way he speaks to you doesn’t even compare to how rough he is right now, the headboard thumping against the wall over and over.

“you’ve been waiting for this, huh? for me to come home and take care of my sweet girl?” caleb leans down, his lips breaths away from yours as he hooks your legs over his strong forearms. his gaze is intimately drawn to yours, the eye contact between you both causing warmth to saturate your cheeks. you can’t help but clamp down on him tighter, making him hiss from the heightened pleasure. “u-uh huh, missed you so much caleb!” your lips smoosh against his in a passionate yet sloppy kiss, your tongues clashing together as he fucks you harder, swallowing each and every moan that spills from you.

your legs wrap around his waist, locking him in place as he fucks deeper into you, his tip continuously nudging against the depths of your pussy. “p-princess wait i’m gonna cum! you feel so fucking good, baby!” caleb groans, his moans growing louder with each stroke. you can feel him twitching inside you, he’s trying so hard not to cum inside but you’re not making it easy. your alluring saccharine scent is so intoxicating and you’re so soft. the way you’re moaning his name right now is pure music to him, if he had it his way he’d stay like this forever. “c-cum inside! i want it all, baby!”

his eyes shoot open with shock when he hears that, did he hear you right? “y-you sure? i need you to be sure…” you nod, your lashes fluttering at him as your eyes beg for him to fill you until he can’t anymore. “oh f-fuck.” he groans, his breaking point reached as his hips begin to stutter. you feel his sticky load spill from his sensitive tip and flood your cunt, a creamy ring of your juices forming around him. you expect him to be exhausted after that, rubbing his back and placing a kiss to his temple, but he’s still hard inside you in fact harder than before.

“that wasn’t fair, princess…” he smirks as he flips you over onto your hands and knees, the cool sensation of the titanium making up his hand gripping your hip. “you didn’t cum. i need that needy little pussy of yours to cream on me at least once, or i won’t be satisfied.” his cock finds its place inside of you once more, this time his strokes more deliberate and intense. “besides, you wanted me to fuck your brains out, riiight?” he switches hands so that his robotic one can play with your clit, massaging the sensitive bud into tight circles. your legs begin to tremble as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure, his cock stretching you out with each powerful thrust, you can’t help but cry out. the muscles in your calves grow tight as you start to come close, the final nail in the coffin hit when caleb pushes down on your back so it’s arched more, causing him to hit deeper.

“gonna cum! gonna c-cum!!” you squeal, feeling caleb twitch inside you like before, this time his rhythm remains focused. your hips move on their own, now fucking yourself on his cock desperately to claim your high. “what a greedy lil thing, wanna cum that bad?” he chuckles darkly, his metallic finger buzzing against your clit. “go ahead, princess. you can take it.”

a.n: sorry but gonna stop here bc it’s getting long but yeah….hes so mean on the low NGH!! i thinks ill expand on his finger being able to vibrate in another post tehe. tysm for reading! if you enjoyed pls feel free to like, reblog and comment!! xoxo

tags: @awwgasm @zehrbear

[mingumis]

stupid idiot | kmg

he doesn’t care about anything, other than the slow, curling smile on your lips and the feeling of your soft fingertips, fluttering over the bruises on his knuckles. 

pairing: gryffindor kim mingyu x slytherin f!reader genre: fluff !! so much fluff! tags: little bit of blood, nothing graphic! just a load of mingyu in love being a dummy a/n: i was racing against the clock to finish this before midnight but it's still the sixth where i am, so happy birthday to our precious minguri who deserves the whole world and then some 🥹 wc: 3.0k

read mingyu and sparky's first fic here!

“I love her.”

“Oh, wonderful. You’ve finally figured it out.” 

Seokmin barely lifts his head from his desk, where he’s finishing up on a love letter to his own girlfriend, no doubt, based on the sheer amount of hearts he has scribbled onto the parchment. 

Mingyu scowls and has half a mind to march over and tear up the letter to shreds, but he actually likes the Hufflepuff that Seokmin has sickeningly dubbed his Lovey and he also knows that you have been friends with her since first year Astronomy class. 

You. Sparky. Right, there are more important matters at hand. 

“Well, then,” Seokmin pokes his tongue out in concentration as he carefully rolls up the paper and seals it with hot wax. “Enlighten me. What helped you get it into that thick skull of yours?” 

Mingyu drops his bag onto the floor and comes around to Seokmin’s side of their room, plopping himself onto the neatly made mattress. He holds out the stack of his returned and graded assignment, where the professor has notated a perfect grade in the top margin. 

His friend finally looks over to his offering, brow furrowing. “Con...gratulations? Dude, what?” 

Mingyu sighs, partly out of frustration, mostly out of defeat. “No, no,” he mumbles, rifling through the pages to land on the conclusion that he settled on that night in the library, with your help, “Just read this.” 

Seokmin gives him another dubious look but takes the essay into his hands and starts reading the words out loud. 

“To the average witch or wizard, this dilemma provides merely an opportunity to practice a simple Levicorpus spell. Being tied down to the tracks before an unstoppable force, seconds before certain death, is a trivial matter to those who hold the power to move the earth with a mere flourish of the wrist. 

“To Muggles, however, the decision and its outcomes cannot be easy. The choice of inaction might allow several people’s deaths but keep the blood off of one’s hands, while action condemns a single person to death but saves the greater many. To protect the life of a lover, one may have to grapple with the active choice of letting a stranger, a classmate, even a friend or multiple, die in their place. In the split second that exists between life and death, logic and ethics and morality fail, and all that remains is love.” 

Mingyu squirms a little as Seokmin’s voice lingers even after he finishes reading. It’s his heart, poured out onto the parchment in the neat, blocky handwriting that you’ve complimented him more than once before. His heart, that he hopes to be able to convey to you someday. It’s so obvious to him that he frowns when he notices Seokmin’s puzzled squint. 

“What?” 

“I’m still confused.”

He huffs loudly, yanking the paper back, and flops backwards onto Seokmin’s bed so that he doesn’t have to look at his friend as he declares, “I’m in love with Sparky, alright? Like, she’s my friend, but also, I think she’s incredible and smart and perfect and– I would let five people die if it means saving her!” Mingyu heaves a few quick breaths and receives no response, so he turns his head to the side, where Seokmin’s face has contorted into something crossed between a knowing grin and a disgusted gag. 

“Okay, wow. I could’ve done without the theatrics,” his friend quips, but there’s already an excited sparkle to his eyes. “Ooh, does this mean that we can go on double dates now? 

Mingyu’s heart flutters at the thought, before he realizes that he hasn’t even gone on a date with you, let alone asked you out, let alone confessed his feelings to you. Those should all come first, probably, before a double date with Seokmin and his Lovey. He turns over, shoving his face into the pillows and lamenting through a groan, “I haven’t even told her yet.”

Seokmin snorts, “Well, hop to it, Romeo.”

“Who the hell is Romeo?”

“You’ve got so much more to learn about the Muggle world, my young Padawan.”

“What is a ‘Padawan’?” 

–

You’re determined to make this extremely difficult for him, it seems. 

The first time Mingyu tries to talk to you, it’s a futile attempt to catch you as you leave your Arithmancy lecture. 

You’re traveling in a cluster within your newfound Slytherin protection squad, led by Jeonghan and flanked by Soonyoung and Jihoon. The arrangement had resulted, courtesy of Seungcheol, when Mingyu had shown up to practice late one too many times from walking you to classes to fend off the bullies. Fortunately, the three Slytherin upperclassmen had been all too happy to be given a reason to sneer at snot-nosed pureblood supremacists at the compensation rate of a Butterbeer per month. Unfortunately for Mingyu, they seem to take their jobs a bit too seriously, judging by the warning hiss that escapes Jeonghan’s gritted teeth as he approaches. 

“I’m her friend!” Mingyu protests, gaze leaping from Soonyoung, who grins, Jihoon, who shrugs, and you, who cackles into your scarf. “Also, I’m your friend!”

Jeonghan lifts a shoulder, eyes narrowing with scrutiny. “You are Seungcheol’s friend. We are, at best, classmates, and at worst, rivals on the pitch. Besides, we were told to make sure that Sparky gets to her classes in peace, without any distractions.” The Slytherin beater rakes his gaze up and down before his lips curl in disapproval. “You look like a distraction to me.” “Hear, hear!” Soonyoung pipes up, pointedly ignoring the scathing glare that Mingyu shoots his way. 

Jihoon leans into you, dipping to murmur something into your ear that makes you giggle. Giggle. 

Mingyu fears that he has unwittingly sent you straight into a den of tigers who have enlisted you as one of their own. As a last resort, he peeks his head around Jeonghan’s frame to you, pleading with a gaze that he hopes is pitiful enough for you to cave in.

You meet his eyes steadily, lips twitching into an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Gyu. We’re gonna be late to Divination. See you later?”

Dejected, Mingyu steps aside to let the group by, acting like he doesn’t see the way Jeonghan’s hardened glare eases into a languid smugness.

The next opportunity that he seizes comes in the library, during the midday tea and meditation session that you partake in with Minghao. 

Mingyu stalks his way over to the far corner where he knows he’ll find the two of you amidst the dusty stacks of Transfiguration textbooks. Sure enough, Minghao sits on a cushion on the floor, straight backed and eyes shut. You, however, have your knees to your chest and back against one of the shelves, with your nose buried into a book and sipping away at a giant mug. 

When Mingyu whistles a quick note to announce his arrival, you glance up in surprise, your eyebrows quirking curiously. Before you can say anything, the meditating Ravenclaw mutters, not even bothering to open his eyes, “Go away, Kim.” 

He startles, “How did you know it was me?”

“Of course it’s you. You’re the only one dumb enough to try and interrupt our meditation.” “Sparky’s not even meditating!” “Hey!” You growl, offended. He offers you an apologetic grin and notices you fight off your own. 

Minghao slides a single eye open, shooting the most threatening one-eyed glare he’s ever seen his way. “I know, but Sparky’s not distracting or annoying so she can stay. You, however.”

Mingyu sighs and tilts his head towards you, hoping that you’ll get the hint and follow him out of the library. Instead, you motion towards your book and tea with a sheepish shrug, leaving Mingyu to sulk. Just as he’s turning away to leave, he runs right into Wonwoo and Hansol, who have coincidentally arrived at the dark corner, matching in blue and bronze with empty mugs in hand. 

“Really?” He demands, twirling back around to Minghao, who has returned to his meditation again. 

Wonwoo rumbles out a laugh as he brushes past and takes up the cushion beside you, like it’s second nature. You pipe up a hello towards the older Ravenclaw, simpering when he pats your head to return the greeting. 

Mingyu’s stomach burns. 

Third time’s the charm, he tells himself, but the race for the Quidditch Cup ramps up and he’s being pulled into early-morning practices and late-night scrimmages. Mingyu swears he’s spent more time on a broom than on his own two legs for the past two weeks and seen more of Seungcheol, Seokmin, and Chan’s ugly mugs than your radiant face. It’s not right. 

The day of the tiebreaker Gryffindor-Slytherin match, the final chance they have for the title, they have to take breakfast before the rest of the students, so it’s a surprise when he sees you, shuffling into the Great Hall in your checkered pajama pants. You’re still rubbing sleep out of your eyes, but when you spot him, you march towards him with a conviction that doesn’t match your fuzzy slippers. 

“Mingyu.” You get right into business. “I overheard Hoon and his cronies last night, and they have something shady up their sleeves for the match today.” 

He blinks, hand halfway up in a wave, “Good morning to you too.” Mingyu finishes chewing on his mouthful of eggs as he contemplates your words. “What do you mean by ‘shady’?”

You come to sit on the bench across the table from him, tugging at the sleeves of your sweater, nipping at your lips nervously. “I’m not sure,” you mutter, wincing and leaning in closer when you notice the Slytherin Quidditch team stride into the Hall raucously, “I couldn’t get all of the words, but I feel weird. Like something bad’s going to happen.” 

Mingyu grins, shoveling more eggs and crooning through his chewing, “Aw, that's cute. Look, the Slytherins have been playing nasty for all of time. We’re used to them. But thanks for the head’s up, I appreciate it.”

A sleeved fist thumps against the wooden table, and he jumps at the dishes clattering against one another. Your forehead creases, the way that it does when you’re upset, and he falters, wondering if he’s said something wrong. 

“Just,” you seem like you force yourself to swallow down a million things you’d rather say, choosing to mutter out instead, “Be careful today, Mingyu. Please?”

“Yeah, of course. Anything for you, Sparks.”

–

Mingyu’s on fire today. 

He’s scored fifty points out of their hundred, Slytherin’s trailing back by thirty, and by the way Chan’s flitting here and there on the Snitch’s tail, the match is nearly theirs. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, victory already sweet on the tip of his tongue, he decides that today will be the day that he finally tells you that he loves you. 

As he chases the Quaffle past Seokmin, the Beater sends a particularly persistent Bludger off in the opposite direction. Mingyu flashes his friend a grateful grin and tucks into form neatly, getting ready to dive after the ball and add another goal to his name. The familiar lurch in his stomach as he drops heartens him for only a second, until he hears an unfamiliar whizzing by his ear. It only takes another passing moment to realize that the Snitch is right beside him, then another to understand that the force colliding straight into him is the SIytherin Seeker and that his broomstick has been knocked off kilter. 

Mingyu yelps, as he teeters from left to right on his seat. For a second, he’s able to grip his fingers around the handle firmly and he thinks that he’s going to be alright. Just as he lifts his head to find his bearings, another rush of green creeps up in his periphery and collides into his side. He fully loses his balance and topples over the side of his Firebolt, wind rushing up and around him violently as he hurtles towards the field. 

–

“Mingyu.”

He must’ve hit his head a bit too hard on the way down because when you appear through the flap of the medic’s tent, you’re glowing. An entourage of his friends follows closely behind, but he can only see you, making your approach towards him, brow furrowed and nose wrinkling. 

It looks like you might start crying. Mingyu has never seen you cry before, not even when you came quite close to it that one time that you received a less-than-perfect score on your Herbology practicum. He’ll be damned if he ends up being the cause behind your tears for something so trivial. 

“Sparky,” he soothes, reaching for you and wincing back when the motion earns him a twinge in his shoulder and a strict tut from the medic behind him. There’s a slight wobble to your mouth as you behold his battered state. Shit. He has to fix this right away, somehow. “Hey, I’m okay. Promise.” 

Blood from the cut that splits his bottom lip dribbles as he tries to speak, and Mingyu cringes a little at the taste of iron. Your gaze drops to his mouth and the crease in your forehead deepens. He’s thinking so hard to come up with something to say next, to ease your concern, to get rid of those tight anxious lines around your eyes, but you beat him to it. 

“Episkey.” 

His lip warms and then grows cold within a split second, and when he reaches up with his uninjured arm, the cut has faded, leaving only a smudge of blood against the back of his hand. Mingyu smiles dopily, pleased to have been on the receiving end of your spell, as warm and gentle as a sunshower. 

“Thanks–”

“I cannot believe you, Kim Mingyu.” You mutter, more to the ground than to him, but he can hear the strain in your throat as you try to keep the tears at bay. “I told you to be careful. I told you that they’re going to play dirty today.” There’s frustration, anger, fear in your voice, and despite his efforts to prevent it, a single tear falls from your lashes. 

Mingyu’s chest squeezes. His head, reeling as it is already, cannot keep up with his tongue, and before he realizes, he’s blabbing everything that’s been on his mind for days, everything that made him lose his concentration and fall in the first place. 

“I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I love you, like, I like you so much that I’ve been trying to tell you, but my friends are such assholes sometimes and they made it so hard for me to talk to you. I’m sorry. I like you. I love you. Don’t cry, please.” 

Your face scrunches up entirely, which is the total opposite effect he was going for. Maybe he read the signs wrong, maybe you just see him as a good friend after all, maybe falling off of his broom in front of the entire student class in one of the most important matches for the Quidditch Cup has made him lose all potential chances he ever had with you. 

Mingyu withers as he quietly watches you work through his outburst. He watches as you hurriedly wipe at your teary eyes with quivering fists. He watches as you sniff loudly and stifle down the hiccups that have started up in your throat. He watches as you tilt your head back to blink rapidly at the lights overhead. He watches as you finally look straight at him since you’ve entered the tent, breath hitching ever so slightly as you dial up to say something. 

“You’re so ridiculous.” 

Yeah, he figured as much. Mingyu grimaces, desperately trying to swallow away the bitter taste that rises in his mouth, so that he can take this all in stride and pretend like he didn’t just bare his bleeding heart in front of not only you but his friends and the medic as well. He blinks hard, once, and when he can see again, you’ve come to a crouch before his chair, trembling hands grabbing at his, looking up at him with those pretty, albeit weepy, eyes.

“I love you too, stupid Gyu,” your voice tremors and escapes in a warble, as if you’re dazed to admit it out loud, “I’ve been in love with you since first year, stupid.” 

There’s an eruption of noise outside of the tent coming from the pitch and the bleachers, one of the Seekers must have caught the Snitch, but there’s nothing Mingyu can hear over the roaring in his ears. Blood rushes in every capillary in his head, it seems, as he feels rapid heat prickling up his neck, his cheeks, the damned tips of his ears.

He won’t ever admit it to anyone, but at this moment, he can’t be bothered to find out which of the teams outside has won the match. He doesn’t care that his stupidity might’ve singlehandedly yanked the Quidditch Cup from Gryffindor’s hands and placed it into Slytherin’s. He doesn’t care that Wonwoo and Minghao are standing just a few feet behind you, slapping Galleons into each other’s palms and snickering about it. 

He doesn’t care about anything, other than the slow, curling smile on your lips and the feeling of your soft fingertips, fluttering over the bruises on his knuckles. 

–

“And this year’s Inter-House Quidditch Cup goes to Gryffindor House!” 

The table explodes into cheers as Seungcheol lifts the trophy, gleaming and massive, above his head. Seokmin thumps Chan hard on the back until their youngest teammate chokes on his saliva and complains loudly. Mingyu throws his hands up as he celebrates, and immediately, his relocated shoulder twinges in protest. 

He cringes at the pain, gaze darting all the way across the Great Hall. At the Slytherin table which has broken out into jeers and hisses, his attention zeroes in on you, despite being flanked by a Jeonghan and Jihoon who look quite miffed about the loss. You’re already looking at him, eyes narrowed into slits. He knows you so well that he can imagine the disapproving click of your tongue, the way you would chide him for forgetting to keep his arm in its sling. 

Mingyu beams over what he hopes comes across as his most charming smile. He observes, and melts at, the way that your scowl barely lasts. Easy, open joy takes over your face, as you mouth out across four tables. 

Congrats, stupid.

[luvnanako]

Waking up next to Vi

Vi x Reader (wlw, fluff)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Intro

Hiii thank you sooo much for all the love on my last post !! I appreciate it sooo much it means the world to me, I hope you enjoy this one as well 𖹭

--------︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶---------

As the first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, you slowly open your eyes, finally ready to wake up after what felt like an endless night. The world around you is still quiet, the soft hum of morning just beginning to stir. As your vision adjusts, you catch a glimpse of the woman lying next to you, her peaceful expression framed by the golden light of dawn. She’s sleeping soundly, her chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm, her hair adorably messy from the night’s rest. A soft smile tugs at your lips as your eyes trace the delicate freckles scattered across her nose bridge, glowing faintly in the morning light.

Completely caught in the moment, you find yourself unable to look away. Minutes pass as you simply lie there, drinking in the sight of her serenity, each second filling your heart with warmth and quiet joy. Smiling to yourself, you marvel at how lucky you are to share this space, this moment, with her. For now, the world can wait—there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

With a gentle slide of your finger, you brush a strand of Vi’s hair out of her face, revealing her puffy cheeks in full view. You can’t help but smile at how utterly adorable she looks, her face relaxed in deep sleep. A part of you is tempted—aching, really—to cover her cheeks in soft kisses, to shower her with affection until she wakes. But you hold yourself back, not wanting to disturb your sleeping princess just yet.

Your gaze shifts to her lips, lingering on the scar that cuts across them. There’s something about it that makes her baby face impossibly alluring, adding an edge to her softness that you can never resist. Kissing her scar is like touching heaven, a sensation that never loses its magic, no matter how many times you do it. The thought alone fills you with warmth, but before you can linger too long in your daydreams, Vi stirs beside you, mumbling something incomprehensible in her sleep.

“Mnm…” she grunts softly, her voice thick with drowsiness. You can’t help but chuckle at her little morning sounds, finding them endearing beyond words. Gently, you press the back of your fingers against her cheek, sliding them slowly across her soft skin until they come to rest on the inked lines of her tattoo. In that tender moment, you feel her hand tighten around your waist, a silent reassurance that even in sleep, she’s holding onto you.

You let out a content sigh, feeling your heart swell with love for this woman who’s become your entire world.

Vi shifts closer, pressing her nose against your chest with determination, her arms tightening around you so you can’t even think about moving. “Sleep… more…” she whispers, her voice soft and barely audible, still heavy with sleep. Mornings like these always brought out her clingy and cuddly side, something you secretly adored.

“Babe…” you whisper back, slipping your fingers into her messy hair. The effect is immediate—her body visibly relaxes, and a content sigh escapes her lips. This was her weakness, not the thrill of a pit fight against the toughest opponents or indulging in a hearty meal after a grueling day, but your hands in her hair. If she could, Vi would spend days and nights just like this, soaking up your touch.

Her hand slides down to rest on your hip, her thumb brushing against your skin as if savoring every second of this intimacy. You can’t help but giggle at her baby-like behavior, a sound that earns you an instant pout.

“Cupcake… stop laughingggg…” she whines, her voice dragging with mock irritation.

“I’m not laughing,” you reply, teasingly flicking her forehead with a smirk. “I’m just admiring you, dummy.”

“Heyy!” she protests, her pout intensifying, her expression so soft and endearing that it’s hard to take her seriously. “Have a little respect for your hardworking girlfriend!” Despite her words, her lips curl into a grin, still pressed against your chest.

“Oh, I do, babe,” you say, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her lips, followed by another on her forehead. You watch as her cheeks flush into a sweet shade of pink, and your heart swells at how effortlessly beautiful she looks.

“Are you free today?” she murmurs, her voice tinged with hope.

“Mhm,” you hum in response.

“I can finally spend the day with the love of my life.” Her lips spread into a cheeky grin. “Aaaand stay in bed with you,” she adds playfully.

You roll your eyes with a smirk. “Gosh, you’re so lazy, babe.”

“I can’t help it if I have my own personal heating teddy bear,” she teases, letting out a soft chuckle before pressing a wet kiss against your collarbone, the sensation almost like a playful lick.

“Viiiiiiiiii,” you pout, squirming slightly under her clingy affection.

“Mine,” she declares, her voice low and possessive, as she closes her eyes and peppers your chest and collarbone with playful kisses. You laugh softly, the sound only encouraging her antics.

“Okay, babe, it’s time to get up,” you say, gently nudging her.

“Nooooooooo,” she groans dramatically, her voice now raspy and thick with sleep.

“It’s already 9 a.m.,” you point out, glancing at the clock.

“So whattt,” she mumbles stubbornly. “I’m tired… now shush, I’m going back to sleep.”

With that, she wraps her strong arms tighter around your waist and buries her face into the crook of your neck. Before you can respond, she leaves a tiny kiss on your skin, so light it feels like a feather brushing against you.

“I love you, cupcake,” she whispers, her words melting into the stillness of the morning.

“I love you too, Vi,” you reply softly, your hand gently stroking her hair as she snuggles even closer, her warmth and affection making it impossible to argue with her desire to stay in bed just a little longer.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you so much for reading !! 𖹭

[wrestlingwithlife]

Chew Toy (COD MONSTER AU)

When you have a mouthy werewolf on the team it pays to have thick skin (or scales).

COD!Monster!AU x Male!Kaiju!Reader

——————————————————————————————————————

Y/n let his eyes follow Soap’s pacing figure as he practically stalked around the common room, obviously restless.

His clawed hand came up, scratching at the skin around his collar.

Price had argued against it, but the higher ups had insisted on the kaiju wearing some kind of “fail safe” of sorts, should he go rouge.

So they settled on a shock collar, much to the displeasure of the task force.

Price had been badgering Laswell to get the order revoked, and the human female was doing her best, but Y/n wasn’t going to complain.

This was a massive upgrade to what he was used to.

“Is it like this for every werewolf?”

Soap’s eyes honed in on the Kaiju, zoning back in to process his question.

His eyes were a much more vibrant shade of blue, atleast they seemed to Y/n.

The werewolf flopped onto the couch with a huff, the cushion dipping and making him accidentally lean closer to the warm body beside him.

Allegedly.

“It’s different for every wolf, but they all experience atleast something similar on full moons.” Soap shrugged, tail flicking back and forth.

Seemed like at least one part of his body insisted on being active.

“Do kaiju’s get anything like that?”

Y/n clicked his tongue, leaning his head back in thought.

He’d only ever met one other Kaiju in his life cycle, and she’d seemed nothing but perfectly calm and capable at any given moment.

“Not that I know of, nothing like this though.” He mused, nodding to Soap’s twitching. “There’s no set time for it, at the very least.”

Soap mulled over his words before his thoughts were cut off.

“How do you cope?”

His eyes flickered back to the kaiju, eyes locking on to the intense e/c hues.

He was honestly shocked, and quite pleased, at how much he was putting into the conversation.

“Depends, sometimes I’m just put in quarantine, most of the time guys come in and help me blow off some steam.”

He caught the way Y/n stopped, giving him a look out of the corner of his eye.

In his defense, coming out of Soap, you just never knew.

“Not like that.” The werewolf huffed, swatting at the larger hybrids arm, before giving him a grin. “But if you wanna…~”

“Down boy.” Y/n snorted, shrugging the wolf off him.

Soap barked out a laugh, tossing his head back, tail speeding up.

“We’ll see~”

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜・

Y/n stood behind Ghost, watch over the wraiths shoulder through the one way glass into the padded training room.

Soap’s wolf prowled around, occasionally lunging at the few training dummies that had been left inside.

“Shouldn’t he have calmed down by now?” Gaz mused, leaning against one of the walls of the viewing room with his arms folded over his chest.

Price sighed, scratching his beard with a nod.

“Doesn’t normally take him this long. I’d say we go down, but he’s more mouthy than usual.”

“I can do it.”

All eyes turned onto the Kaiju, mostly out of surprise that he’d even spoken up at all.

“You sure? You’ve not gone through…” There was a loud rip as Soap tore the head off a dummy. “…this.”

Y/n shrugged, his heavy tail scraping the concrete floor behind him.

“My skins impenetrable, atleast to anything he can do, even like this.” He motioned to the wolf still throwing a fit below them.

Price mulled over it for a moment before reluctantly giving in.

“Fine, but if he gets to wild I’m pulling you out.”

Y/n made his way out of the viewing room and down towards the training room door.

Soap had honed in on him the second he’d heard the door click, posture ridged and ears forward.

His tail was wagging, and Y/n would have taken that as good sign, had he not immediately come barreling towards him.

Y/n braced, catching the wolf on his shoulder and stopping him in his tracks.

He heard the snapping of jaws, but even in the places they were able to connect, they couldn’t break the Kaiju’s skin.

Y/n managed to get his arms around the werewolf’s neck, trapping him in a headlock and dragging them both to the floor.

Soap’s tongue lolled out as they wrestled, blue eyes widening as Y/n’s arm came within reach, lunging for the exposed limb.

The s/c skin immediately changed black as it hardened protectively, the werewolves ivory teeth bouncing off uselessly.

Soap broke away, eyes wide as he stared, as if offended, at the slowly fading color of Y/n’s arm.

He huffed, curiosity seemingly taking over whatever fight he had left as he padded closer, sniffing at the skin of the arm.

The kaiju offered the arm to him for a closer look, happy to do this instead of wrestle.

Soap gave the skin a tentative lick, eyeing Y/n’s face before taking the arm back into his mouth and biting down again, softer this time.

Once again, the skin changed color, hardening where the teeth pressed.

He let out a rumble, the brown canine clearly unsure what to make of his new discovery.

The door to the room opened again, the rest of the force making their way in, but Soap hardly looked up from Y/n’s arm.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜・

“Got any threes?”

“Go fish.”

Gaz groaned, drawing a card from the pile, giving Y/n a skeptical look.

“You’re cheating.”

“Who cheats at ‘Go Fish’?”

His wings fluffed, almost hitting Price who was sitting behind him, watching over his shoulder.

Ghost was doing to the same to Y/n, leaning closer to peer over his cards.

“Nope, he’s got a clear conscience.”

Y/n gave a pleased hum, shifting a bit as Soap moved his tail once more.

The wolf was splayed out behind the group, the Kaiju’s black, scaled tail held between his two front paws as he gnawed on the end.

Y/n could hardly feel the pressure, and besides the wolf drool, there was no evidence of anything out of the ordinary when the wolf would pull back to look at his work.

“Got any fours?”

Gaz grumbled, but passed the card to Y/n who added the pair to his ever growing collection.

“Yer getting obliterated.” Price chuckled, dodging a wing slap from Gaz.

“I know that!”

The outburst drew Soap’s attention, the werewolf now keen on being apart of the circle.

Y/n felt his tail drop, looking back only to see the quickly approaching wall of fur and muscle.

Neither Y/n nor Ghost stood a chance as the werewolf came crashing down onto the them, pinning the two under his massive weight.

“Get off, ya mutt.” The wraith hissed, fighting to free atleast one of his limbs, shadows pulling and pushing on the canine to try and will him to move with no such luck.

Y/n groan as the air was forced out of his lungs, dodging playful licks to the face as best as he could.

The cards were scattered everywhere, Price and Gaz blinking in surprise at the turn.

“Does this mean I win?”

Soap whipped his head around, tongue lolling, giving Y/n a chance to catch his breath.

Soap reached out with a massive paw, hooking it around Gaz. Price, who’d been sitting to close, getting dragged in along with him in a mass of tangled wings and thrashing tails.

Price grunted, getting tucked right next to Y/n beneath the mass of fur.

“Come here often?”

Price rolled his eyes playfully at that, swatting the e/c eyed male with his tail.

“More often than not.”

“So this is normal?” Y/n nodded up at Soap, who was now giving Gaz the same treatment he’d give Y/n moments before.

“Eh, something along the lines of it. Never seen this before.” He mused, using his one free arm to gesture to the dog pile they were trapped in.

Y/n puffed before settling back, as if accepting his fate, and Price followed suite, head flopping back against the padded floor.

The dragon felt the scraping of other scales against his tail, finding that his tail had instinctively wrapped itself with the thicker tail of the Kaiju beside him.

He was about to apologize, to move his rouge appendage, when he felt the other’s tail tighten around his in return.

No words were said, they didn’t need to be, Price was already turning a pretty shade of pink.

—————————————————————————

Boom, only took me way to long to get this done haha

Sorry if the ending felt a bit abrupt, I wanted to end on something fluffy but obviously nothing romantic has been established in this story line and I didn’t want to have them acting to out of character.

So I still haven’t decided on a call sign yet, but I have narrowed it down to two choices for you guys to pick from below, so please let me know!

[soulofapatrick]

“You’re stubborn." "You're infuriating" - Bodhi Durran x female reader

Summary: Bodhi helps you train with a dagger

Words: 1.8K

Warnings: none!

Notes: I'm stuck between Fourth Wing and ACOTAR currently

Y/N's POV

The training hall hums with the faint resonance of distant machinery, the kind of low thrumming that seems to seep into your bones. The air is thick with the metallic tang of old weaponry, undercut by the earthy scent of worn leather grips and the faint, bitter smell of sweat. It’s dim, the lighting casting long shadows across the scuffed floor and the walls lined with racks of blades, staffs, and other tools of survival.

The training dummy in front of me, carved from some unyielding alien wood, stands unbothered by my repeated failures. Its surface is marred with nicks and scratches from past trainees—small victories against an otherwise immovable opponent. My dagger wobbles in my grip, the hilt slightly slick from my last attempt. I square my stance, focusing on the way my muscles coil and the weight of the blade in my hand. But the tension in my arms isn’t just from the training; it’s from Bodhi Durran, who is sprawled lazily against the wall, watching me with a look that practically radiates smug amusement.

“You’re terrible at this,” Bodhi calls out, his voice cutting through the space like a knife but with none of the sharpness. It’s light, teasing, the kind of tone that makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

My grip tightens on the dagger, frustration simmering beneath my skin. “Maybe if you stopped distracting me—”

“What, like this?”

I feel him before I see him, the quiet rustle of his movement and the shift in the air alerting me to his approach. My pulse quickens, and I force myself to stay focused on the dummy in front of me, pretending that his nearness doesn’t make the world narrow to just the two of us. But then he’s there, so close that his heat seeps through my clothes, his front nearly flush against my back.

“Your stance is off,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, intimate. His breath grazes the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck, sending a shiver that I can’t suppress down my spine. My heart stumbles over itself as his hands come to rest lightly on my waist, steadying me.

“Bodhi,” I say, my voice catching somewhere between protest and something much softer.

“Relax,” he whispers, and there’s something in the way he says it, in the way his thumbs brush against my hips, that makes my knees feel unsteady. “You’re too tense. If you hold the dagger like that, you’ll lose control before you even throw it.”

His hands shift slightly, guiding me. His touch is firm yet gentle, and I can’t help but notice how perfectly his fingers fit against the curve of my waist. I can feel every breath he takes, the steady rise and fall of his chest brushing against my back. It’s maddening, the way his presence surrounds me, consumes me, like he’s carved out a space in my world that only he can fill.

“You’re insufferable,” I manage to say, though the words lack any real bite. My voice comes out softer than I intend, betraying the unsteady rhythm of my heart.

His chuckle is warm and low, a sound that wraps around me like a second skin. “Maybe,” he says, his lips so close to my ear that I can feel the faintest ghost of a smile against my temple. “But you’re not exactly pushing me away.”

I don’t answer because he’s right. I can’t bring myself to pull away, not when his hands guide mine to adjust my grip on the dagger, his fingers brushing over mine in a way that feels far more intimate than it should. The weight of the blade feels different now, steadier somehow, but I’m not sure if it’s the adjustment or the fact that he’s still holding my hands, his warmth seeping into my skin.

“There,” he says softly, his voice a gentle murmur that makes my breath hitch. “Now try.”

But trying is impossible when all I can think about is him. The world feels smaller now, reduced to the steady thrum of his presence and the way he lingers so close, like he’s afraid to let go. For a moment, I wonder if he feels it too—the unspoken pull between us, as if the universe itself is holding its breath, waiting.

“Bodhi…” I start, unsure what I even want to say, but he steps back just enough to make me miss his warmth.

“Go on,” he says, his voice soft and knowing, his eyes locking on mine. “I believe in you.”

I swallow hard, turning back to the dummy. And for the first time, I feel steady—not because of the dagger in my hand, but because of him.

I draw in a shaky breath, willing my hands to stop trembling as I focus on the dummy. The dagger feels steadier now, his guidance still lingering in the way my fingers grip the hilt, but it’s impossible to block him out entirely. The warmth of his touch, the quiet confidence in his voice—it’s all still there, clinging to me like a second skin.

I raise the dagger, adjusting my stance just as he showed me. My pulse thunders in my ears, but it has nothing to do with the throw. With a deliberate motion, I let the blade fly. It spins through the air, gleaming in the dim light before embedding itself in the dummy’s shoulder with a satisfying thud.

A grin tugs at my lips, pride swelling in my chest despite the fact that the throw isn’t perfect. It’s progress.

“Not bad,” Bodhi says, his voice warm and rich with approval. He steps closer again, his presence a magnetic pull I can’t resist. “You just needed a little help.”

I turn to face him, the grin still on my face, though I try to suppress it. “I could’ve done it without you.”

His brow arches, his smirk as infuriating as ever. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.” My words are firm, but the playful edge in his expression makes my resolve falter. The space between us feels charged, alive with an energy I can’t quite name.

Bodhi takes another step closer, and this time there’s no mistaking the intention in his eyes. They soften, the teasing glint giving way to something deeper, something that makes my breath catch. He reaches out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. His touch is featherlight, but it sends a shiver racing down my spine.

“You’re stubborn,” he says, his voice low and steady. “And maybe a little reckless.”

I tilt my chin up, refusing to back down. “And you’re infuriating.”

He grins, but it’s softer now, more genuine. “Maybe so.”

The air between us shifts, the weight of the moment settling over us like a heavy, intoxicating blanket. His hand lingers by my cheek, his thumb brushing against my skin in a way that makes my heart ache. For a moment, I think he might pull away, but then he leans in, slow and deliberate, giving me every chance to stop him.

I don’t.

When his lips meet mine, it’s like the world tilts on its axis. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as though we’re both testing the waters, but it doesn’t stay that way. Heat blooms between us, a quiet intensity building as I press closer, my hands finding their way to his chest. His grip tightens on my waist, anchoring me to him, and it feels like everything else—training, dummies, the world itself—falls away.

When we finally pull back, we’re both breathless, the silence between us filled with unspoken words and promises. He rests his forehead against mine, his lips curved into a smile I can feel against my skin.

“You’re still terrible with a dagger,” he murmurs, his voice thick with affection.

I laugh, the sound light and easy, despite the way my heart is still racing. “And you’re still insufferable.”

“Good,” he says softly, brushing a thumb across my cheek. “We’re even, then.”

For once, I don’t argue. Instead, I pull him back in, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that feels like the start of something I don’t want to let go of.

The kiss deepens, slow and lingering, as though neither of us wants to rush what feels like a fragile moment. My hands move instinctively, threading through his hair, tugging him closer until there’s no space left between us. His breath mingles with mine, hot and heavy, and the world around us fades into a blur. There’s nothing but the feel of him, his warmth, the press of his body against mine.

I’m losing myself in him, and for the first time in a long while, I don’t mind.

Bodhi’s hand slides to the back of my neck, his fingers curling gently, coaxing me even closer, if that’s even possible. The gentle pressure of his lips against mine shifts, his kiss turning from tender to something more hungry, more desperate, as if he’s been holding back for too long. My pulse quickens, and I feel a tightness coil in my chest, a mix of excitement and something else—something unfamiliar but thrilling.

His lips travel from mine to my jaw, brushing over the sensitive skin just below my ear. A soft shiver rolls through me at the touch, my breath catching in my throat.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he whispers, his voice rough, laden with desire, and it sends a thrill down my spine.

I tilt my head slightly, giving him more access, wanting more. His lips find the curve of my neck, pressing soft, hungry kisses to the skin there, and I gasp, my hands now gripping his shoulders to steady myself.

“You’re not so terrible with a dagger, after all,” he murmurs against my skin, his words warm and teasing, but there’s an edge to them, a promise of something more.

I laugh softly, breathless, pulling him back up to face me. His eyes are darker now, filled with an intensity that makes my stomach flip, and I can’t help the way I reach for him again, my lips meeting his with a renewed urgency. This kiss is different. It’s no longer tentative or sweet, but raw, filled with a need we both can’t ignore.

His hands find my waist, lifting me just slightly, urging me to wrap my legs around his hips. And I do, without thinking, my body responding to him like it’s always known how. He pulls me against him, his chest pressed firmly against mine, and I can feel the heat radiating between us, crackling with tension and desire.

I gasp as he shifts, his hands sliding lower, the touch of his fingers against the small of my back sending waves of heat through me. The kiss falters for just a moment, and when our eyes meet, the intensity is almost suffocating. There’s no going back now. Not for either of us.

But neither of us pulls away.

Instead, Bodhi’s lips find mine again, this time with a passion that’s undeniable, making it impossible to think about anything other than him. My hands slide from his shoulders to his back, feeling the muscles there flex beneath his clothes, pulling him even closer.

And in that moment, it’s just us.

Fourth Wing Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[hocktuah]

ｌｅａｒｎｉｎｇ ｔｈｅ ｇａｍｅ

☆ ｎ． ｈｉｓｃｈｉｅｒ ☆

summary: some cuddling on the couch leads nico to discover your dirty little secret.

word count: 934

“That bastard should’ve never been allowed to stay on the ice.” Nico shakes his head beside you on the couch. Its unaccommodating size and low price tag could make it serve better as a loveseat, but you're all the more grateful for the purchase if it means you and Nico could stay this close anytime he came to visit. You sneer alongside him at your television during the replay of Nico suffering the intentional ram of a hockey stick to his groin. 

“Wait—you mean he didn’t get a…penalty?” You query, quiet and unsure. The sport was never something that interested you prior to meeting Nico, and falling hard for him too. Howbeit, you tried hard to catch onto the lingo and rules of the game whenever he spoke of it so conversation could flow easily. The last thing you wanted to be viewed as was clueless, especially when it came to your new boyfriend’s passion.

“No penalty, no finger wag, nothing! It’s like these refs just turn a blind eye to injury so they can keep up the facade of safety implements in the NHL.” He folds his arms, and turns to you. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the people who truly care about the player’s wellbeing show it. But as you can see…” he untucked one of his arms and motioned to the TV, which now showed the next faceoff of the game, “there’s a few rotten apples in the bunch.” 

“Do you…do you get injured a lot without the other team facing repercussions?” Another reason you never enjoyed hockey was the brutality of the sport. Much like football players getting tackled into turf, the idea of being slammed against walls and constantly losing teeth never sat well with you.

“I mean, once in a blue moon. And if someone on the team gets tripped or hurt purposely by some goon on the opposite side, we make sure they won’t walk out with a win if we can help it. As for being injured itself,” he shrugs, “what can you do? It’s all part of the game.” You nod solemnly, turning to stare at his concentrated profile.

“Thanks for watching these with me. I hope you’re not bored. I just like to be putting effort in the off season by watching old plays and seeing what we can improve on.” He rolls his eyes at himself. “God, I’m starting to sound like Coach.” He scrubbed face in an attempt to hide his growing blush. 

“No, you sound like a captain who takes pride in his team.” You take his hand and interlock your fingers together. “I could never be bored learning something you’re passionate about.” A heartfelt smile overcame his face, as his eyes flickered between your face and then your joined hands. He brought the bundle of fingers up to his lips to kiss it.

“Here, let’s cuddle.” As he turned to readjust the throw pillow beside him, your eyes enlarged in fear and your grip on his hand tightened. 

“Neeks, wait—” You saw his eyebrows furrow, and knew it was over for you. Now, it was your turn to hide your face in your hands as he grabbed the thick book you'd hidden behind the pillow and read the title aloud. 

“Hockey for Dummies.” A devilish grin builds on his face as he flips through the pages of the neon yellow paperback, littered with colorful highlights, post-its, and small, inked reminders in the margins to ‘ask Nico about this’. “Y/N…were you studying for me?” 

“No, clearly I was planning to take your spot as captain for next season.” You replied defensively. His smile never faltered, and your cheeks stayed burning. “Okay, so what if I was?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that I just…I want to know why you couldn’t ask me about all of this to begin with. You were already up-front with me on our first date when I told you what I did for a living.” While that was true, you still felt like you owed him something to show how much you cared for him and his career. Being available to watch every game he played proved to be impossible with your work schedule and extracurriculars. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t educate herself outside of your post-scrimmage phone calls for any future conversations.

“I didn’t want to sound stupid talking about a sport you’ve played forever.” You gnawed on your bottom lip while picking at a hangnail to distract from the tightening in your throat. ”I know how much your career means to you and how hard you’ve worked to get there. And I love hearing you talk about it, but when it first came up I couldn’t understand half of the terms of the sport and I wanted so badly to but felt bad asking—” His warm hand cupped your neck in an instant, his lips colliding with yours not a second later in a short, sweet kiss. When you separated, you felt caught up in a daydream you never wanted to escape.

“I love you.” He admitted, while you floundered. “I don’t want you to ever feel bad about asking me something. Never. Okay?” A few seconds of silence transpired between the two of you, until you finally gained the courage to do what he advised, and ask him something.

“Could…can you say it again?”

“Which part?” 

You clarify, “the first one.” He inhales deeply through a fond smile, and proceeds to pepper kisses all over your face, repeating the three words like a mantra: “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

[chuunai]

Henlo I have something to add to the 100 followers event if that’s cool

Dazai with scenario 2 and prompt 16. Idk how these things traditionally go but…. Your stuff seems good so far and I’m excited to see what you do with this

Thank you thank you, Anon. Also sorry for how long this took everyone I swear I’m combing through the requests 3_3

✧˚ · . dad first, detective second - dazai osamu

who would’ve imagined the demon prodigy having a hellion of his own?

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, established relationship (marriage with reader), SFW → baby baby baby, Dazai really likes your boobs, etc.

It’s a perfect night, really.

Your warm body resting against his, limbs lazily tossed over each other as you snuggled and acted like lovesick fools. Moonlight poured in from the cracks of the curtains, casting small slivers on your face. Dazai couldn’t help but think of an angel when it came to you. A heavenly being that granted him a new life and forgave him for his past.

Nudging at your cheek with his nose, his voice came out in a sleepy tone.

“You should sleep, [name].”

His hand reached up to cup your face, playfully using his thumbs to gently close your eyelids like one would do with a body. He’d seen many people in the Mafia do that—try and make the deaths they caused seem more peaceful rather than a brutal end. Dazai himself never did that. No need in beautifying a simple concept of its finality and simplicity.

“Can’t. I know she’s about to wake up. It’s nearly eleven, and we put her to sleep at seven. I can tell.”

You shook your head stubbornly, looking at the baby monitor nearby where static noise and the occasional mix of a tiny snore and coo came from.

His little hellion.

Really, he had no clue how he got so lucky. First with the fact that he impregnated you and you carried his baby. Second with the fact that he had his own family now. And third with the fact she looked so much like him. Thick brown curls of hair on her head, big curious eyes that looked at him so adoringly. The tiny freckles and birthmarks scattered across her skin. She had some of your features, yes, but they were more subtle than his features.

Coupled with the fact that she was a bundle of energy and sass like him.

“I insist, pretty. Shinju needs her daddy too.”

He knew how much she made you tired with her habit for refusing to nap for more than an hour or two coupled with breastfeeding and the general responsibility and time that being a mom took. Dazai wanted to spend time with his daughter too and relieve your stress. You’d get sleep, he’d get to see Shinju. Win-win, in all accounts.

Hell, he even gave you puppy eyes in the darkness of your room.

“I…fine. But don’t wake me up if you screw up.”

Dramatically, he sighed and frowned, placing a hand on his heart.

“Does my ‘bella really think I’m an incompetent father? How heartbreaking and cruel of her!”

Much to his relief, you playfully groaned, pinching his sides lightly.

“I didn’t say that, dummy. God, I swear Shinju is more mature than you.”

Jesus, you were so insulting tonight. How was the baby that tried to put anything she could in her mouth more mature than him? Sure, he was a bit funny and childish, but he wasn’t a baby. Well, if he had his face buried in your boobs he’d be a baby. Still, it’s not his fault that they’re just so big and warm and squishy and seem to beg for his attention.

Which is what he soon did, resting his head on your chest while cupping them softly. You were wearing one of his shirts and a nursing bra underneath. He wished you weren’t wearing anything at all, but it wasn’t fair to ask for that when you recently gave birth just a mere two months ago. His libido lowered itself only for you. And when you did have sex—quickies when Shinju would nap—, he was so much nicer and loving than usual. The mother of his child didn’t deserve rough mean sex, no, she deserved gentle treatment under the sheets of their futon.

You deserved everything that he could possibly give you.

So when the small baby demon eventually began to wake up and whimper, he pressed a kiss onto your cheek and slowly got up, whistling a small tune under his breath before waking to the makeshift nursery nearby.

Opening the door slowly, he made his way to the crib and picked up his sniffling newborn, shushing her comfortingly.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Daddy’s here. We don’t want to wake up mama, okay?”

Her tiny hands balled up into fists, weakly moving around and occasionally hitting his chest. Sitting down on the rocking chair nearby, he fumbled around for one of her stuffed animals, grabbing the familiar bunny as he placed it in her arms.

“Look there, Shinju. It’s your bunny!”

From an authoritative Mafia executive to a tired loving father. Lord, Chuuya would be laughing his ass off. Or have that stupid face of confusion while he’d berate Dazai with questions about what unlucky woman had to bear his spawn. But what could that short alcoholic of a ginger say? No woman wanted to birth his babies.

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when Shinju’s tiny fingers began to grab at his chest, thinking he could feed her too. He could, just not straight from the source unlike you. Standing up, he went over to the mini-fridge nearby which contained bottles of your milk. It wasn’t too chilly, and so he carried it and the cooing baby to the kitchen where he warmed it up in the microwave.

After it warmed up, he carefully began to feed her, leaning back against the counter as he did so.

It still felt so odd to him. Caring and loving someone he helped to create. His self from ten years ago would never believe it—that they’d find love and even have a baby after escaping the Mafia. He had you to thank for that. The one who picked up the discarded pieces of his soul and welded it into the man he is today—a father first, and a detective second.

Kinda rushed the end but I couldn’t think of anything more :(

Tags: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts, @xxcandlelightxx

[theapangea]

Think You Can Handle It?

Characters/ Pairings: Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are about to touch Lip Gallagher’s dick, maybe there really is a God.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!!!, hand job, blow job, swallowing, unprotected p in v, choking, hair pulling, gagging, female and male receiving, rough sex

A/N: I was blushing the WHOLE time I was writing this so that’s your warning lol. Hope you like it you little pervs ;)) I am trying to get better at writing smut so pls be nice! All mistakes are mine.

It wasn’t unusual for you to aimlessly walk into the Gallagher house. There were people always coming and going so they rarely locked the front door. And even when it is locked, like this time, the backdoor is kept open. 

The house is quiet when you open the door, a weird phenomenon that only happens once in a blue moon. Looking around through the entry ways to see if anyone is in the living room before making your way up the stairs. You can hear the hum of music from the far end of the hallway. A smile creeps onto your face as the Gallagher you are here to see is the only one home.

Lucky you.

Opening the door to the boys’ room, his head lifting from his textbook to see your cheeky smile staring back at him.

“What are you doing here?” Lip’s monotone voice echoes from the top bunk, a small hit to your ego.

“I’m borrreddd,” you whine, elongating the words. “So I’m here to bother you.” Your fingers graze along the wooden ladder as your other hand pushes the door shut. The locking sound clicks through the room. 

“Well don’t. ’ve got homework to do.” The annoyance in his voice is radiating.

Ignoring his command to leave as you are here for one thing and Phillip Gallagher is the only person that can help you out. Your eyes follow the dozens of posters that line the walls, head bobbing slightly to the music that fills the room, fingers trail against any object they can touch. 

Lip follows your every movement as you make a half circle around the room, only to disappear under his bed, just out of sight. Which, quite frankly, annoys the shit out of him. 

Sighing as he climbs down his bunk. “Can you stop snooping?” His chest lightly hits your back as his fingers graze yours, yanking the action figure that you held in your hand. 

His tone is soul crushing but his touch is euphoric, wishing it lingered just a bit longer. And as fast as he touched you, the faster he disappeared, tossing the toy in some unknown direction. 

Your mouth opens as you plan to say some snarky comment that will most likely make him laugh but when you turn around the only thing you can notice is his shirtless figure standing right in front of you- the messy bed head, the sleepy smile, the sheer fabric of his blue boxers, standing in between your eyesight and his cock. And boy was there something big begging to get out of those tight little shorts.

Definitely makes a girl have wild thoughts. And did those thoughts not want to be kept in.

Licking your dry lips as you tilt your head to the side, “You look like you have a big dick.”

He laughs, clearly caught off guard by your statement, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” It’s almost as though your tiny comment gives him some sort of ego boost as he stands straighter, puffing his chest out, the tent in his boxers growing more.

“That’s why I said something, dummy.” One of the few nicknames you have for him, rolling your eyes, “Look I know we’re supposed to hate each other and all but I have to admit that I find you really hot.” You’re unable to hold any sort of eye contact with him, shifting between his crotch area and a poster behind him. 

His eyes darken as he listens to your confession, “Wow I’m flattered,” The cockiness in his voice is thick, “You wouldn’t be able to handle me anyways,” winking at you.

The arrogance in his tone sends a shiver down your shine, a wet spot starting to form in your core. The comment really sends your dirty thoughts into overdrive, “So it is big huh?” Crossing your arms, having to physically stop yourself from showing any kind of enjoyment from this conversation.

“I don’t really like to toot my own horn, sweetheart.” One of the few nicknames he has for you, rolling your eyes as a quick response.

But you couldn’t help yourself but wonder if he was being honest or not. If The Lip Gallagher actually had a big dick or if it was just something all the girls were lying about. But they couldn’t all be lying, right?

“So can I see it?” You ask innocently, your gaze following along his silhouette.

He ponders the question for a second, contemplating the pros and cons of what could happen if you see his dick. In this case, the pros heavily outweigh the cons. Shrugging his shoulders before hooking his thumbs underneath the hem of his boxers and pulling them to the ground. His cock graciously bouncing in all of its glory as he stands back up.

Eyes wide as his member stands proud and tall right in front of you. The soft skin, pink head, pulsing veins, glistening wet pre-cum leaking from the slit makes it hard for you to look away. Definitely bigger than you thought it was going to be, not that you would admit that you pictured it one too many times. 

“Is it what you expected?” He questions, snapping you back to reality. Though you did miss thinking about how nice it would feel deep inside of you.

“I’d say better.” You barely get the sentence out as it bops slightly up and down.

The tension in the small room is thick and growing. You both stand there, not saying a word, not breaking eye contact unless it’s you sneaking another peek at his throbbing cock. 

“Can I touch it?” You speak softly, your voice barely audible above the music.

“Are you ready for that, princess?” Yet another nickname but instead of being annoyed, it was actually turning you on. The itching feeling between your legs is spreading through your body, shifting weight from one foot to another, anything to suppress the feeling for just a split second.

Nodding your head in response, your eyes big and doe-like. A quick nod from him signaling for you to approach. You can barely move at first, your legs locking from the heat growing in your core. 

You are about to touch Lip Gallagher’s dick, maybe there really is a God.

Taking a couple of short steps to close the distance between the two of you. The hot air of your breaths mixing together as you stare into his piercing blue eyes. Shaking slightly as your fingers graze the delicate top skin, wrapping the rest of your hand around his shaft. A short gasp spills from Lip’s mouth as you begin to stroke the silky skin from the base to the tip, squeezing gentling as you push back down his length. Feeling it grow against your palm, not believing that it can actually get any bigger.

Lip watches as you stroke his erection, barely able to speak. He’s had many handjobs in his years but something about how delicate you are being with him, the hints of innocence and curiosity as you hold his member in your hands. Something that is turning him on more than anything else in his whole life.

“So do you think you can handle it?” He asks as you lift your head, inches away from his face.

Choking on your words, “I'll definitely try.” 

Chuckling at your response before placing his rough hands on your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss, the hint of cheap beer and cigarettes fill your senses. Hand gripping tighter around his cock while Lip deepens the kiss. The soft moans vibrate against your lips as your hand starts to pump again, following your movement with his hips. 

His hands travels to the base of your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair while tugging at your bottom lip, begging for his tongue to be let in, the taste of beer only intensifies when his tongue dances with yours. His right hand moves down to the small of your back, pulling you towards him, your body’s needing to be close to each other. 

His lips only leaving yours as he sits down on the edge of the bed by the window, his left hand still tangled in your hair as he pulls you down to kneel in front of him, the rough carpet digging into your knees. Using his free hand to pump his aching cock, holding it straight between his thumb and middle finger as your head dips down, lips hovering over the soft pink tip. Fingers digging into his skin as they drag along his thighs, body thrusting up begging for you to finally wrap your lips around his length. Finally allowing him to release the built up tension.

Centimeters above his dick, the taste of pre-cum practically already on your tongue. Your spit falls from your mouth, hitting his raw tip as you use it to lubricate the rest of the shaft. 

Wrapping your lips around his manhood, flattening your tongue so it lays flat against the sensitive skin on the bottom, sending his body into ecstasy.

A sharp breath inhales from Lip as he stares intensely at your actions. Hands immediately release from you to grip the bed sheet, needing some form of stability as you begin to take his shaft fully into your mouth, only about half way before it becomes too much. Using one of your hands to help cater to the rest of the length that you couldn’t fit, squeezing, pulling, twisting the base as your head bobs faster on his cock. The pretty moans escaping Lip’s mouth as you suck him off.

Moving all of your hair to one side so he can get a better look at you giving him a blow job, “Fuck,” is the only thing he can manage to get out as he buckles his hips underneath you, your mouth pushing him into bliss.

Forcing yourself down more against his length, gagging as you try to take more and more down your throat. The scene increasingly becomes messier as saliva is spilling from your mouth, coating his cock in the liquid. His hands immediately pushing down on the back of your head, his hips thrusting upwards, moving back and forth slightly as you gag against him. His dominant demeanor overflows the pool that leaks through your panties. 

With one final thrust, holding a second longer in your throat before releasing you. A much needed breath filling your lungs as you wipe the remaining saliva from your chin, mouth sore from his size. His hands instantly on your face again, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have steamed down your cheeks. His eyes are softer now, concern written all over his face as he examines you.

A small smile peaks through the messy strands of hair that fall in front of your face as you continue to catch your breath. His laugh rings in your ears as he realizes you are fine. Grabbing your hand, tugging light, signaling for you to stand back up with him. Once on your feet, his hands start to roam your body, pulling your old shirt over your head, exposing your bare breast to the warm, still air. 

Wrapping his arms around your waist, turning your bodies around with your back to the bed, lowering you down gently, his lips leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck. Sucking hard against your collarbone, purple bruises surfacing. 

Arching as he continues his trail down your chest, catching your nipple in his mouth. Licking, nibbling at your delicate skin, moaning in satisfaction. The trail of kisses as he moves to your other breast, using his free hand to massage the one he’s not attending too. 

Sliding his hands down your sides, goosebumps surface from where he once was. Hooking his fingers in your shorts, pulling them and your panties off of your legs, helping him in the process. Rough hands stroking against your bare legs, bringing them up above his head so that your naked core is exposed. 

The dirty smirk and dark eyes weigh on his face. Breath heavy as you can feel your wetness seep out of you. 

Digging his fingers into your fragile skin as they grip the back of your knees, bending your legs and pushing them closer to your chest, holding you in a submission position. His gray blue eyes fixated on yours while he places a small kiss on your tender clit. The small action making your wiggle under his grasp, the whine dancing around the room. A smile residing on his face from sheer satisfaction. 

Catching your sensitive nub in his mouth, humming against your clit as your body jolts towards him. Sucking and licking your raw center as you grind against his tongue. Your breath skips as he continues. 

Whimpering when he stops, placing small kisses down your folds until he gets to your entrance, sticking his tongue in to get a better taste. Mouth hooking onto your folds as his tongue tries to move deeper into your dripping core. His nose settles against your delicate clit, sending a shooting electricity through your body. Fingers tangling in his blonde locks as you hold him in place as he brushes against your sweet spot.

The overwhelming sensation builds through your body, pumping your blood with sin as his cold tongue mixes with your juices. Arching your back, eyes closed as he continues on his feast. Your moans floating around the room as he eats your pussy, rough lips, cold tongue pushing you so close to the edge. Your thoughts on Lip, his dreaming smile, hard dick, heat growing in your core as he continues to hit your sensitive spot. Enjoying your delicious juices as you ride his face. Body jolting, legs buckling as he helps you over the edge into heaven, your mind cloudy as you cum all over his tongue. Lip licking the remaining juices that have spilled down your butt.

The smirk resides on his face as he knows he did a good job. Standing as one of his hands is still holding onto the back of your thigh and the other is situating his dick to the entrance of your core. His tip turns more red as he grazes lightly between your folds. Your moans mixing as the pain of him not being inside of you becomes too much to handle.

“Put it in already,” You plead, grabbing the back of his legs, hoping that would make it accidentally slip in. 

“Needy baby.”

The two little words could have made you cum again right then and there but before you could even process what was going on, his length suddenly shot into you, pushing forcefully through your entrance.

“Fuck -” he moans, “You are so fucking tight.” The buzz of pleasure overcoming the both of you. Pushing deeper inside of your folds, feeling the head going further and further into your pussy.

His left hand abandoning your thigh to let both of your legs rest upon his shoulders, taking his hand to your neck, the purple bruises from his kisses finally appearing, wrapping his fingers around your throat, squeezing the sides gently as he increases his speed. The heat rises as he continues pumping, toes curling, back arching as he fucks you. 

Your center continues to leak, lubricating his dick and dripping around his balls that slam into you. Leaning closer to you, your legs the only thing stopping the two of you being chest to chest. Catching your lips in a passionate, wet kiss. Wrapping his arms around your head, bringing you closer to him. Slamming away into your tight core, expanding the entrance over and over again.

His aching cock flexing inside of your walls, building pressure as he continues his movement, holding you extremely close, never wanting to let you go. His name falls out of your mouth as he pounds aggressively into you. 

Toes curling, leg shaking, buckling under the pier ecstasy as his rhythm is pushing you more and more towards the edge. The dam is about to break and you are unable to hold it back any longer. The wave of emotion as you cum on his dick. 

“Fuck,” his thrust becomes increasingly messier, “‘m gonna cum baby. Shallow?”

The tiny moan of confirmation was all you could get out. 

One final thrust before he quickly pulls out and steps back to allow you to drop to your knees, smashing them roughly into the carpet. Wrapping your lips around his swollen cock, sucking as the delicious, hot liquid coats your mouth and throat. Deep throating as much of his cock as you can, his hand tousled in your hair, holding you down. 

The sound of you choking on his cock and his euphoric moans fill the tiny room. Pulling back as you catch your breath, wiping the spit and semen from the corner of your mouth. 

Smiling widely up at Lip, “Told you I could handle it.”

~~~

So what do you think???

Requests are open <3

[mellowsadistic]

The Flower Girl - Part 3

“You remember what to do, don’t you, Gracie?” Olivia asked, handing her a basket full of flower petals.

“Uh-hu!” Grace mumbled around her pacifier, nodding eagerly. No! She couldn’t walk down the aisle like this! She was supposed to be getting married! This was supposed to be the best day of her life!

“Good girl,” said Olivia, giving her a gentle push.

Grace toddled awkwardly, her legs pushed apart by the thickness of her soggy diaper. She waddled into the entranceway and stood there with the aisle ahead of her. Heads turned in her direction, smiles slipped from faces, and people started whispering to each other.

She saw Rob standing at the altar, her gorgeous husband-to-be, staring at her with a stunned expression on his face – his beautiful bride was dressed as an overgrown flower girl, her sexy body crammed into a ridiculous little girl’s dress, her elegant hair in pigtails, a dummy in her mouth, the hint of a nappy flashing about her waist.

Grace’s mother hurried over to her. “What’s going on?” she whispered, taking in the sight of Grace’s braless tits crammed into the blouse of the dress, and the flower crown in her hair. “What are you doing? Why aren’t you in your wedding dress?” Then her nose twitched as she smelled her adult daughter’s wet diaper. “Grace…” she said in shock, looking down at her daughter’s crotch, seeing the hint of discoloured padding peeking out below the hem of her poofy dress. “Have you wet yourself?”

“Jessica’s wearing my wedding dwess!” Grace chirped, her words slightly muffled by her pacifier. “It wooks so much better on her dan it does on a stupid, big-titted baby wike me. I’m just da flower giwl!”

Grace was cringing inside, but at least her mother knew that something was wrong. She took her daughter’s hand looking deeply concerned, making as if to usher Grace back out of the door, but at that moment there was movement behind them, and she looked up. Immediately, her horrified expression relaxed into a smile. No. Grace looked around as well and saw Jessica standing there in her wedding dress, smirking at her. No! Not her mother too! How was Jessica doing this?! Someone had to help her!

But nobody did. Her mother turned her back around and patted her on her soggy diapered bum. “Go on, sweetie,” she coaxed. “You know what to do. Being the flower girl is a very important job!”

Grace started toddling down the aisle, the sagging seat of her nappy flashing beneath the short hem of her flower girl dress with every step she took. She willed herself to stop, concentrated as hard as she could on taking back control of her body, but it was useless. She reached into the basket she was carrying and tossed a handful of flowers into the air, giggling delightedly.

Everyone was looking at her very differently now, smiling broadly and making cutesy faces at her.

Then, quite suddenly, she stopped. For a moment, Grace thought that she’d got control of her body back, but then, with a thrill of horror, she realised that there was a growing pressure in her bowels. Oh God, she thought. Not that. Please, anything but that!

Grace’s face went red. She clenched her fists and bent her knees. Then, on what was supposed to be the most special day of her life, in front of all her family and friends, in front of the man she was supposed to marry and the woman who was stealing him from her, Gracie let out a loud grunt and started making a big, stinky mess in her diaper.

There was a chorus of ‘awwws’ and some tittering laughter in the crowd.

Grace was screaming inside her head, but on the outside she just hitched a big smile back onto her face as she stood up straight again when she was done. With her pants now full of poop, she continued stomping up at aisle, tossing out flowers, her loaded nappy now drooping well below the hem of her dress, swinging pendulously between her thighs for all to see.

Grace felt like she was going mad. The shame was too much. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be how she walked down the aisle! It had to be some sort of nightmare! She looked up at Rob, her last hope, but his eyes were fixed over her head. He was staring at Jessica with adoration in his eyes. No!

Once she got close to the altar, Caroline and Annie moved forwards to take her by the hands and guide her off to the side with them, where she stood for the recent of the ceremony, fidgeting with her dress. She wasn’t even watching when Jessica and Rob said their vows and kissed. She was too busy looking down at her diaper, shaking her bottom and watching her loaded Pampers jiggling about between her legs.

Not long afterwards, she was led over to a corner for a nappy change. Her three bridesmaids did it – the people who should have been her bridesmaids. Annie tickled her tummy, Caroline pulled silly faces at her, and Olivia worked away at her messy bottom with a pack of wet wipes. Grace wished she could be swallowed up by the ground and disappear forever, or better yet wake up to find this had all been a horrible dream, but all she could do was giggle and gurgle while her three best friends changed her stinky diaper.

Once she was clean and dry, a fresh pair of Pampers hugging her bottom, she was led over to Jessica.

“There you are, sweetie!” she cooed, her eyes glinting again. “What a good girl you were! I know you had a little whoopsie-daisy poo-poo accident in your nappy in the middle of the aisle, but that’s only to be expected of a big baby like you.”

Grace had never hated anyone more in her whole life.

“And I know you must be a bit upset about not getting to marry Rob,” Jessica continued, “but I have a surprise for you! Rob and I are going to adopt you as our little girl! Isn’t that nice?”

Grace felt like her insides had turned to ice. Adopted? How long was this going to go on for?! But she started jumping up and down on the spot in excitement. “Yay! Yay! Yay! You’re gonna be my Mama and Dada!”

“That’s right, little one!” she cooed. “I’m going to take such good care of you.”

“Maybe you’ll even be able to get married yourself one day,” one of the women surrounding them said to Grace.

Jessica laughed. “Oh no, I don’t think marriage is going to be in Gracie’s future. She’s far too immature for that. I’m going to keep her away from boys.”

“But Mama!” Grace whined. “I wanna get married!”

Quite suddenly, in full view of everyone, Jessica lifted up the back of Grace’s dress and delivered several sharp swats to her behind, aiming for what little of her bottom wasn’t covered by her thick disposable diaper.

“Owwwwie!” Grace cried, tears filling her eyes. Her bottom was stinging painfully. She seethed on the inside. If she still had control of her body, she swore she’d rip and claw at Jessica until she was nothing but ribbons.

“Bad baby!” Jessica scolded, and Grace felt her lower lip beginning to tremble. “No boys for you, little girl. You’ve proved you’re too immature for dating, let alone marriage.”

Tears ran down Grace’s cheeks. “Sowwy, Mama!” she sobbed.

“Suck your thumb, baby,” Jessica ordered, and Grace’s thumb immediately flew to her lips. She shoved the digit into her mouth and started sucking on it wetly. A line of drool spilled from her mouth and down her chin.

“Good girl,” said Jessica.

“I see you’ve got her in hand,” Grace’s mother chuckled. She’d just walked over to join them. “I never spanked little Gracie myself, but maybe that was a mistake.”

“Oh yes, I think so,” said Jessica. “A naughty little girl like her needs plenty of strict discipline. She’ll be under my thumb for a very, very long time.”

Everyone nodded their heads approvingly, and Grace’s mother said, “I’m so glad you helped us all understand that my daughter is really just an overgrown toddler. Just imagine the thought of this little stinker getting married to Rob!”

Everyone laughed.

“Are you planning to let her grow up again?” one of Grace’s cousins asked.

“Oh no, she’s perfect just the way she is,” said Jessica, and even though she was smiling pleasantly, there was a malicious glint in her eyes as she looked at Grace. “It’s a lifetime of early bedtimes, smacked bottoms, and smelly nappies for my little Gracie.”

Grace sucked her thumb noisily. A lifetime?! Was Jessica planning to keep her like this forever?! She felt herself start peeing again. The thirsty padding between her thighs soaked up her wee-wee, and her diaper began to droop.

“Rob and I had better be going,” Jessica said. “We have a lovely honeymoon to look forward to.” She turned to look down at Grace. “But don’t worry, little girl.” She grinned horribly. “Mama will be back to play with you again very soon.”

[wakeup01]

Hey! I hear you'll might be able to help me. I've always been attracted to muscled bodies. I think they are so manly and attractive. Recently I even got a membership at the gym with the hopes to finally get the body of my dreams. but after a year of training, I don't see any results. Do you think you could help me? I'm willing to give anyting only ot reach my body goal.

The Tradeoff

Sigh. See, It’s not a question of can I help. It’s a question of why should I help? Luckily, you said those magic, oft-regretted words: ‘I’ll give anything’. Anything? How about giving everything?

Having second thoughts? Too late. I’ll make you a muscled beast, sure. And then some. But in return you’re going to be my pet. My grunting, drooling moron that I walk around on a leash. Like a faithful dog. With an equally low IQ. You’ll have all the muscles and bulk you could ever ask for, and all it’s gonna cost is your free will. Your intelligence. Your personality.

Just marvel at that expanding physique - even if it is mostly a facade, those popping veins. That layer of sweat leaking profusely from every single pore. Tendons and shoulder blades stretching against your tight skin. Frankly dummy, you look ridiculous, your arms hang far apart from your juiced up chest; standing there mimicking a default posed video game character. Stomach vacuumed flat. Tiny waist. Square head. Your bulbous biceps inflating as if I’m pumping them with air. And your cock? Well, your cock is barely worthy of mention at all now. All that new blood coursing through you had to come from somewhere. And yet, despite all that, you feel the primal need to show off. ‘Look at me, look at how stupid I look. How proud I am of it.’

Your comically proportioned body is like a life-sized action figure, and trust me, I plan to play with you however I wish. But hey, it’s what YOU wanted. Now for what I want, my pay.

*click*

The leash is a little tight on your thick, meat filled neck, but it’ll do. You feel it right? I can see it in your panicking eyes. The sensation of your brain being squeezed, like it’s in a vice. But the vice, the vice is my hand. That’s right pet, smile as I juice your brain like an ripe orange, draining everything into your hulking body and fuelling your throbbing muscles. Squint while struggling to read these words. Chuckle like an utter blockhead as I enslave you. Haha. Good dumb fucking idiot.

Come along, pet. I want to show you off to the whole gym before we shave your head and fit you with a harness. More importantly, I’m looking forward to getting you on all fours and locking you in your cage. What fun! You’ll be eating your protein on the floor from a metal dish from now on. It’s the only thing befitting a dumb muscle beast like you.

I hope your new life is everything you wanted. If not, well, tough shit. I don’t give a fuck. I own you.

[delopsia]

rhett asks? say no more! I’m thinking about rhett dealing with an injury in which he has to depend on you to help take care of him. he hates it, he’s used to being independent and being the one who takes care of things. so now that his independence is kind of taken away, he feels like such a burden and he feels so helpless. he doesn’t want to make things hard on you, even though you’re happy to help. i think he would end up wallowing for a bit and it would take you holding his face in your hands and firmly but lovingly telling him how much you love him and how he could never be a burden to you. you’re in it for the long haul. for better or worse. and throughout his healing process he realizes just how sincerely you meant those words. he comes out on the other side of it with a deeper awe and appreciation of you. anyway i should shut up now because i’m rambling 🤭

Hurt Rhett! My favorite trope :(

I don't think Rhett realizes how independent he truly is until it's taken away from him. He's so used to doing things by himself that it's almost second nature to him. He's just never classified it as 'independent' because he lived at home and just figured that independence doesn't count when he's still got chores and has to hear his brother snoring from across the house.

The big dummy is so stubborn when he's hurt and has no choice but to rely on you for most of his daily tasks 😭"No, I can do it!" as he's visibly struggling to hobble down the hallway on one foot. Crutches, a cast on his foot, and doctor's orders are not enough to keep that man from trying his luck. At some point, you do briefly consider tying him to the damn bed. It seems that every time you look away, he's on the move. Every time he falls, he insists he can get back up despite fully knowing that he wasn't able to do so the last three times this has happened.

There's one night when you wake up to the sound of him falling in the kitchen; how he wound up there, you have no idea, but he stubbornly tried to make himself a midnight snack instead of waking you up and asking for help. Now he and the bread are sitting on the floor, helpless, until you mosey into the room and pick them both up.

In his head, he thinks sheer willpower is all he needs to get through this; it's just a matter of him trying hard enough. But it? Doesn't work like that?? And you're beginning to think that nothing short of taking his face into your hands and gently shaking him is going to get it through that thick skull of his.

That bull rider balance and strength does make some things so much easier for you, omg. Especially when you're trying to help him with things like showering (read: he's a little too big to fit into the bath, so he's got no choice but to stand and shower), changing clothes, and generally anything that requires him to balance on one foot.

The turning point is when Rhett realizes that his arms still work and that there's absolutely nothing stopping him from wrapping them around you every time you help him up. Oh, you were planning to take him down the hall to bed? Sorry, he's gotten his arms around you and buried his face into the side of your neck. You're gonna be here for a while 🌸

[artificialstardust]

Best Friend Matt HCs

Matt Dierkes x f! Reader

I’m still planning on posting a best friend Matt fic, but I have no fucking clue what I’m doing for it so here’s this in the mean time💞

Warnings: contains smut, creampies, cockwarming, meanie Matt, pet names, oral (m and f receiving), face sitting

Best friend Matty that your friends and family love

And his friends love you, they tell him to bring you to the studio while working on things and

it usually ends with you sitting in his lap or him on the floor sitting between your legs and his head leaned back against your thighs as you play with his hair

They think your banter is so cute, seeing him give you shit and you give it right back to him

Sometimes he doesn’t have a comeback for what you quip back with

He’s so respectful with everyone

But he can be a meanie at times. He likes to hide your phone, your water bottle, your headphones and your panties

He likes to tease you for being shorter than him and he calls you a dummy sometimes. He thinks you’re so cute when you’re mad at him

He 100% pokes you and just annoys the fuck out of you for fun. Just being an asshole sometimes :(

Then he makes fun of you when you do get pouty and mocks you for it, but he does eventually break and babies you

He holds you and says sorry for making you mad and teasing you

He goes and gets you your favorite snacks and lets you cuddle up to him to make up for it while watching your favorite movie or show

He lets his hands wander down your side to rest on your hip or on your side boob

He L O V E S giving you little kisses on your head or when you give him kisses

But you both say everything is strictly platonic because hey, that’s your best friend

His heart melts a little when you call him Matty because you want his attention, he just tilts his head down to look at you

“What is it baby?” With the softest look in his eye

And you just kinda hint towards what you want and it immediately clicks for him

He’d just get a knowing smirk and tugs his pants down a bit and pulls his cock out

He will honestly just pull it out and let you decide what to do with it. He doesn’t care because he loves his sweet best friend so much. You’re his princess

Tonight you decided to suck him off a little

Matty loves hearing your little whines as you have him in your mouth sucking on him

He’d just put his hand on your head to rest it there

He’d praise you for how good you’re doing and telling you how much he loves your mouth

Will tease you again by saying “it’s so nice when you use that pretty mouth for something other than giving me shit”

That gets him a pinch on the inside of his thigh which makes him jolt a little bit

He’d pull you off him and tell you to be nice before letting you go back to sucking on him

Eventually when your jaw starts to get sore because his cock is just so thick and heavy :(

He thinks you look so cute when your lips are wet and swollen and you’ve got that cute little fucked out look already

You just rest your head on one of this thighs because they’re just so big and muscular

He’d swipe his thumb over your bottom lip which makes you take it into your mouth looking at him through your lashes

That makes that man groan so loud

He sits up and helps you tug your shorts and panties off that you won’t find the next morning

He has you move to sit on his face because he just wants a little taste

He wraps his arms around your thighs and has you flush against his face

His nose pressing against your clit while he licks at your pussy

This man is low key light headed but he is having so much fun

He moans into you because of how much he loves it and because of how you’re gripping his hair

He ends up fucking you with his tongue and nudging your clit more with his nose so he can hear your whines and moans

He knows exactly how you like it too

Which makes it so much easier to make you cum

He licks you into overstimulation even after you cum on his face

He moves you off him and when you look down at him he just has this shit eating grin on his face and the lower half of it is soaked

“You wanna ride or do you want me to give it to you how you like?”

His voice is just so sweet, so you let him fuck you

He spoons you so he can hold you close and so he can kiss on your neck

He knows you love it when he raises your leg up to fuck you like this

All it takes is a few deep, sharp thrusts as well as toying with your clit some more and you’re putty in his hands

He tells you how pretty you sound, how good you feel around his cock, how he can’t wait to fill you up with cum

He eventually holds your leg up by propping it on his, so he can use his now free hand to tweak at your nipples

He talks you through your orgasm and tells you he’s right there too

He’d bury his face into your neck and groans so nicely into your neck as he makes sure he’s as deep as possible

It’s become a ritual to warm him after sex and because he likes knowing his cum stays deep inside

He gives you little kisses and tells you how much he loves his best friend and just holds you close

He keeps going until he hears soft snores come from you which lets him know it’s okay for him to sleep

[slamminslamminmcgill]

hi i’m back to laloposting and im being disgusting about it

perrito lore btw

warning: intox (weed and poppers for reader, coke for lalo), anal, oral, rimming, dubcon/noncon, ass to pussy (⚠️do not try this at home⚠️), gaslighting, petplay, the tiniest hint of transphobia for flavor

anatomical terms: pussy/cunt, t-dick

“So this is my family’s latest strain. Tell me what you think.”

Famous last words that Lalo uttered while packing a bowl for you, cradling an obscenely large bong in your lap with you seated in his. He knew damn well that a few rips of this would nuke the speech center of your brain. No way you’d be able to tell him what you think. The stickiest of the Salamanca icky was an indica hybrid that would shut you down. It’d have you under complete couch lock. You’d get so high that you wouldn’t be able to tell your leg from your arm.

And that’s exactly what he wanted.

For you, though. Not for himself.

No, he needed to stay fully cognizant for this to work.

And what better way to lock in than with some hard-hitting, sucker-punch type bumps of luxurious cartel-grade nose candy, brushed into a few delicate lines on a compact mirror.

About 3 bong rips, 2 lines, and maybe 15 minutes later, your pants were off, and two of Lalo’s fingers were lubed up and stretching your ass out.

“Good, right?”

“Guhhh-huh, ha—hahaha… yeeeahhh…” You gurgled, twitching and squirming in time with his fingers. But then they went still.

“I meant the pot, dummy. How’s it treating you?” He asked, tenderly ruffling your hair with his unlubed hand.

You giggled, let your eyes flutter shut, and nodded.

“You feeling like a good doggy?”

Another nod from you.

“Prove it. Get me hard.”

You tumbled off his lap and onto the floor between his legs, pawing at his jeans to get them off him. Once his soft cock was out, you immediately shlurped it into your mouth, nursing it to make it grow big and strong, and long enough to fuck your throat.

“Yeah, yeah, mmm, choke on it.” Lalo said, taking a fistful of your hair, a handle to hold your head like an unfastened briefcase. Your jaw hung open for him to thrust into your throat as easily as any other hole. “Choke on it. Choke on it, mijo, c’mon. You got it.”

When he got bored of that, he scooted to the edge of the couch and held his legs up.

“Lick,” was all he needed to say for you to stick your tongue inside his asshole. He loved watching you degrade yourself. He couldn’t help it. You’re just so cute when you do that for him! Especially when you bounce up and down to tonguefuck him, all with a huge smile on your face.

He returned the favor, of course. Not long after, he had you bent over, face pressed into the dark, plush corner of the couch cushion, his dexterous tongue teasing your rim. Tracing circles, up and down, but not in. Not at first. So that when his tongue did push in, you could feel it radiating up your spine.

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck, oh my god, ohmygodohmygodohmygod, Lalo! Fuck!”

Though the words left your lips in rapid succession, you weren’t processing their meanings. They were mere vocalizations, not conscious words that you decided to say. Your body said them for you. Or rather, his tongue made your body talk. And his fingers, pinching and rolling your t-dick between them, made your body shake with need.

All of this was to work you open for his thick cock. No matter how many times you’d taken it up your ass, it was always a test of your abilities.

Lalo handed you a small glass bottle that rattled when he shook it. Poppers.

“Take big hits, puppy. You’re gonna need ‘em.”

You uncapped the bottle and huffed the noxious fumes inside, a few second inhale for one nostril, then the other. You barely got the cap on the bottle before you started to feel the effects. Your whole body was warm, soft, pliable. Your head was spinning, asshole pulsating, inviting him inside. A swipe of cold lube was the only warning you got before his blunt head breached your ring.

“A-Ah~! Fuck! Fuck!!!”

“Shhh, sh, sh, you got it. You can take it. Good boy.” Lalo cooed as he pushed in, making room for himself inside you. He got in up to the hilt, and sighed contentedly. “Mmm, so tight, perrito (doggy). Told you, you can take it.” He praised you with two gentle pats on your ass cheek. “Ready?”

“Mhm…” you whimpered.

Lalo withdrew his hips, sliding almost all the way out, keeping only his tip inside, and snapped them forward, pulling a pitiful cry from you. He did it again, a gradual retreat, and a hard hit back in. The slow tempo and high impact served to relax your tight hole, loosening you up until he could thrust a steady tempo. You’d gape so beautifully for him later.

“Eso es, eso es, te putito. Me estás tomando tan bueno. Buen chico. (That’s it, that’s it, you little whore. Taking me so well. Good boy.)” Lalo said, mainly to himself. He didn’t really care if you understood him or not. You’d get the message, especially when it was punctuated by a sharp spank.

Whining into the cushions and gripping onto them for sanity, you bounced your ass backwards to meet his thrusts. The pain of the initial stretch had long since subsided, and you were able to enjoy the intense sensations of getting ass-fucked.

That is, until he pulled his cock out and stuck it in your pussy.

You gasped, head poking up and spinning back to look at him. “La—Lalo! That’s—mm!—That’s my pussy!”

“Hm?” Lalo hummed, quirking an eyebrow in response to your obvious proclamation. “No it’s not. I’m in your ass, baby.”

What? What the fuck is he on about? Did he not just pull out and switch holes on you? Was it an accident? Did he just not notice? No. Bullshit. It couldn’t have been. There’s no way he didn’t realize. The distinct squelching of your sopping wet cunt as he fucked it was proof enough to the contrary. Also, it’s your body. Your pussy he’s lucky enough to be inside of. Even if he couldn’t feel the difference, you did. How could he even try to argue that?

“I told you, we’re only doing anal tonight. Don’t you remember? Silly boy. Silly little puppy,” Lalo sneered as he continued to fuck your pussy.

You shook your head, and bravely tried to correct him, “N-No, Lalo, I’m—ah! I’m telling you, it’s in my—“

But he managed to correct himself, and stick it back in your ass. As if it never happened.

“Listen to me, mutt.” Lalo barked, grabbed you by the hair, and yanked you up until your back hit his chest. His hot breath ghosted over your ear as he growled, “Like I said,”

He continued to fuck your ass as he lectured you.

“I’m only…”

Then your pussy.

“fucking…”

Ass.

“your ass…”

Pussy.

“tonight.”

Ass.

“If I wanted your pussy,”

Pussy.

“I’d take it.”

Ass.

“But I don’t.”

Pussy.

“Because, tonight…”

Ass.

“You’re gonna get fucked…”

Pussy.

“Like a real man.”

Ass.

“Okay?”

“Okayyy…”

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, and said, “Good boy.”

You lost track of the switching soon after that. Oh well. Whichever hole he fucked felt good regardless, and the sensation of switching between them was incredible. Lalo could take whatever he wanted from you, and you’d let him. He knew you so well.

Despite his insistent words to the contrary, you went to bed with his load leaking out of both holes. Someday you’ll learn not to think you have him all figured out.