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#holy shit these came out dark
macbethz · 5 months
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the cartoon network coverup team must have CRAZY pull bc why am i the only one who remembers when steven universe's voice actor released an album about being addicted to cocaine in 2018
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keybordcaps · 5 months
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made some self indulgent art
some kinda envy from Sunday and Robin from HSR fueled this. As well as Dream Sweet in Sea Major.
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also just the Halos. Because i really loved how they came out
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so i guess this is like. a sona of sorts. it feels like us. its nice!
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jojea · 11 months
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sadly the steamdeck had to charge immediately after i finished in the character creator but look at my tav, boy
it is mandatory
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sawdust-emperor · 11 months
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You ever just scroll down the empath* tag on here? Fuckin nuts.
There are people with serious conditions caused by a lifetime of managing other's emotions before they even knew what they were doing, and as a result live with hyper-empathy - mixed in with people who wish they had that problem because they've romanticized it (but often don't) and post about being a martyr who was sent here to battle the forces of evil, and post these things under the empath tag - and then also the people with BPD/NPD who are being treated like they are literally an incarnation of Satan sent to personally harm the second group of people by simply daring to exist and breathe the same air as them.
Groups one and three could live peacefully together in that tag, but the second group who thinks they can literally read minds and/or distinguish good people from bad based on vibes alone and ALWAYS believes decisions were made with malice is really fucking it up for everyone. The lack of self-awareness it takes to find oneself in a pit of 'narcissists' and think it's everyone else who's wrong is the kind of thing you see written in kid's TV shows as an allegory for checking your own mood before you blame others.
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darthluffy · 2 years
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I haven’t come close to finishing Hogwarts Legacy yet(so if you do become mini-Voldemort ignore this) but the Triwizard Tournament is the most slam-dunk expansion any game has had in a long time. Probably have to set it at Durmstrang, so beautiful icy mountains, frozen lakes, yetis, random dark wizards, random drunk wizards, ice spiders, mountain spiders, regular spiders, a selection of students from Hogwarts, maybe some actual romance options, more foreign witches/wizards, and then a host of quests around the Tournament with the 3 main events being your big set pieces.
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jellogram · 6 months
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Oh god I just realized we are less than one month away from a new Taylor Swift album. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
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kryptic-krab · 9 months
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man this sucks
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deadsetobsessions · 7 months
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.
“Batman. What can I do for you?”
“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”
“Pardon?”
Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.
“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”
“No…? Why?”
“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.
“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.
“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”
The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.
“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”
“Hn.”
“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”
Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”
“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”
“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”
“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.
“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”
“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”
“He’s a child.”
“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”
“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.
“Totally. Yup.”
“…Fine.”
“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”
“Yes.”
——
“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.
“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”
Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.
Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…
Ah!
“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.
“Anyways, fork over my payment.”
Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.
“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.
“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”
“I don’t litter.”
“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”
“An alive friend?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”
Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.
——
“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”
“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”
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yzzart · 3 months
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YOU'RE RULING THE WAY THAT I MOVE... ── KENJI SATO
── summary: Kenji was insatiable, they say.
── content warnings: F!reader, 18+, nsfw, fiance!kenji, oral (f!receiving), finger marks, petnames, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.
── word count: 1.206!
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Oh, Kenji Sato was, unconditionally, insatiable. — Perhaps, mentioned in countless reports and comments and rumors from journalists, a little voracious and avid. — Making it clear that he looked for satisfaction around him, wanting to end this thirst on the court.
Being one of the biggest, and best, baseball stars, he had the reason, and right, to cause this. — Everyone could agree, right?
But this feeling remained in his chest, covertly, off the court; of course, trying not to show it in the public eye. — There was a mixture of need and lack that only Sato could admit; poorly, dramatic.
Kenji felt hungry, needing to be close to you, causing any physical contact, wanting to enjoy every inch of your body; aspiring to press it around you. — He wants to feel, touch and delight you. — And that drove the young boy crazy.
At the same time that you drove him crazy, leaving Sato thirsty, greedy for your smell or just seeing your gaze against his, you also directed him to the light; being a guide on your troubled path. —Kenji was grateful, and, gods, as he was. — The possibly true meaning of walking through heaven and hell in one walk.
He was trapped, connected to you; always keeping, like a magnet, his strong, long arms around your waist, pressing himself against you or fitting his face into the crook of your neck, nudging his nose into the back of your neck. — Sometimes, his teeth run through your skin, a sensitive spot, marking the area and then kissing it; conveying a loving and ironic action when saying “sorry, my love”.
Also, Kenji remained, pleasantly, surrounded between your thighs and holding them, with such precision and rigidity, leaving, in the future, marks of his long fingers; unable to avoid the possessiveness that coursed through his veins. — Delighting, relishing in the taste of your pussy; keeping him even more addicted to you, being certified as a starving animal.
That mouth, so bold and sharp, that responded and argued everything that came to mind, in fact, was smeared with taste and pleasure; sucking, kissing your folds, incredibly wet and mixed with his saliva, in an unruly way. — Attacking your sensitive and pulsating clitoris, his tongue surrounding it with slow circles and tracing lines across the region. — Rarely threatening contact with his teeth.
The damned man knew how to torture you and thought it was funny, he had, unquestionably, a talent for it.
“Ken, holy shit…!” — The environment, unstable, dark and poorly lit by the small bands of light that came from the huge windows, covered by curtains, was filled with the moans and whimpers that came out of your beautiful, dirty mouth. — “Ngh!” — You choked, trying to breathe.
Kenji would like, would love, to live with his face between your thighs; he could forget about baseball, save the city from monsters, everything. — Everything to devour you.
“My little princess with that mouth…” — A pop, made by his mouth, when sucking one of your folds was exclaimed. — “…so dirty.” — Pretends false hurt along with a pout, quickly licks his lips. — "So good…"
Raising his shiny orbs of desire and lasciviousness, Kenji witnessed, or rather, enjoyed your dazed image, hazy of the purest pleasure you received, feeling in a cloud of delight. — The large t-shirt, which belonged to your fiencé, lifted up to your collarbone, showing off your perky breasts and your messy hair spread across the pillow. — A magnificent work of art, somewhat angelic, apollonian.
Your little face manifested the lost between lust and excitement, being a sight for Sato's eyes. — You looked wonderful, as always.
“You know, hmm…” — The heat of his tongue returned, moving, slowly, to your entrance, tasting, ambitious; Sato's name was begged, almost inaudible, landing in his ears. — “I would spend hours eating that pussy.” — He had already confessed to that filthy curse so many times, but that's not a complaint. — “Oh, but, you know, don’t you?” — He growled.
“Hm, hm…” — This was an attempt to state what I had heard. — “Ken, please…” — You didn’t know what, in fact, you were begging, you didn’t care about blurting out disconnected words and things; the older one raised his eyebrows, mocking you.
“Fuck, baby.” — Kenji exclaims, almost breathless, closing his eyes and tracing a line with his tongue to the small, quivering dot, focusing on it; impatiently, wanting to enjoy your orgasm. — "I know, i know." — He babbled, clicking his tongue and increasing the speed of his licks; distributing a messy, clumsy, obscene kiss to your pussy.
A scream, thin and tearful, with a melodic tone, and considered music for the player, broke free from your mouth. — Being caught off guard during the change of promptness. — Without delay, one of your hands fell on Sato's black hair, pulling it sharply. — And you swear you felt a dirty smile, then a giggle, which sent a wave of shock through you.
When you felt a hot, scorching sensation of pleasure and voluptuousness boiling in your stomach, accompanied by the impression of numbness dominating your extremely sensitive little spot, you knew you were close. — Kenji too. — Your chest burned, rose and fell, trying to regulate or catch a breath, and your back arched; whining, immorally, even more so for Ken.
Holding your thighs, feeling a mediocre courage in trying to close them, which were increasingly trembling, Kenji's hands slowly caressed them; wanting to reassure you. — The coldness of his engagement ring ran across your skin, giving you goose bumps. — From the movement made in his mouth, Ken had said something, but, covered with exultation, you was unable to understand; probably words of encouragement.
"Oh, Ken, Kenji...!" — You screamed, frantically, while miserably moving your hips against Kenji's mouth, warning him; even if there is no such need. — Understanding what was going on, a growl came out of the older man's mouth, maintaining his rhythm. — “I’m close, Ken…” — You cried, feeling tears invading your eyes.
Suddenly digging your nails into Sato's scalp, as tears, witnesses of desire, fall from your eyes, you cum in Kenji's mouth; deliciously releasing all your pleasure. — Your head resting on the pillow, your chest rising and falling under pure exhaustion. — Therefore, you continues to be devoured by your lover.
Kenji, by gently opening your thighs a little, gets drunk on your orgasm; persistently tasting, tasting and eating your pussy. — Now, unshakable and extremely high level of sensitivity. — The tongue cleaning, searching and not leaving any drop of your cum with his greed and thirst to be quenched.
You were being adored, worshiped —even ecstatically— and you appreciated it. — Sato never tired of making you feel this way.
“Please,” — As he start to pull away, Kenji lifts his head, to get a clear view of you, and the glow on his chin and mouth, caused by your cum and his saliva, sends butterflies to your stomach. . — "you're so perfect." — He murmured, stunned and swallowed dryly. — “I wanted to stay buried in your thighs, like, forever.”
Your hand, which was still between his locks, immediately messed them up; mercilessly finding his change in personality ridiculous. — Addressing a low "i love you” to him.
“Me too, love” — He took a deep breath. — “But, i’m serious.”
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flowersforbucky · 1 month
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love language
snapshots of your relationship with bucky told through the five love languages.
“remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
warnings/tags: smut, oral, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, wound care, brief uses of alcohol, anxiety and self-doubt, language, reader is afab, 18+ only, avenger!reader, fluffier than what i typically write, undercover mission, friends to lovers!!!
word count: 6.6k
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Acts of Service
“Exciting Friday night?” Your head snaps up at the masculine voice. You nearly slosh hot tea on both yourself and the pages of the book that lay open in your lap. You're surprised to see him - as far as you were aware, Bucky and Sam were in Munich. You didn't think they were supposed to be back in the country for another two days.
“Something like that,” you answer, regaining your composure as you bring the mug to your lips. “What are you doing back so early? Did recon go okay?”
Bucky lets out a long sigh as he plops down into the recliner, adjacent to where you're curled up on the sofa in the compound’s communal living room. His eyelids look heavier than normal, with dark circles underneath that aren't typically present. You place your cup of tea on the end table next to you and close the book before angling your body towards him, giving him your undivided attention.
“It was a shit-show,” he answers bluntly, voice laced with defeat. “HYDRA had the drop on us from the minute we entered Germany. What was supposed to be us just gathering intel turned into an ambush. One minute, it was just the two of us in an old warehouse, and then the next..” he trails off, eyes locked on one of the buttons of his tactical pants that he’s fidgeting with. “We’re lucky to have made it out. Sam was taken to med-bay as soon as we got back. Broken arm and collarbone, dislocated shoulder, possibly a few fractured ribs..” he lists off the injuries.
“Jesus,” you cringe, a death grip on the book in your hands as you listen to him summarize the mission. “Looks like you came out pretty unscathed in comparison.” You glance him over from head to toe, relieved to see no visible wounds or bruises.
“Yeah, well,” he starts, sitting forward and pulling the collar of his black t-shirt over to expose his right shoulder. Your eyes bulge when you see the obvious knife wound that the fabric had been concealing. “Not completely unscathed.”
“Holy shit, Bucky, why didn’t you go get this stitched up?” You stand up quickly, your book falling forgotten to the floor as you step closer to him to inspect the cut. There’s dried blood covering the surrounding skin of his chest and shoulder, with fresh blood still seeping from the opening of the wound. Even with the luxury of the Quinjet, a direct flight from Germany to New York is at least eight hours, who knows how long the cut had been steadily oozing–
“The bleeding has slacked off for the most part at this point,” he tries to assure you, attempting to cover the wound back up with his shirt. His shirt that, upon closer inspection, is thoroughly soaked through with blood. You all but smack his hand away so that you can continue to inspect the cut.
“It’s too deep,” you shake your head. “It needs stitches.”
“It’ll be fine by morning–” he starts to argue with you, but you’re already walking away from him, exiting the room to retrieve a first-aid kit kept in one of the shared bathrooms just down the hallway. Though you can’t currently see him, you have no doubt that he is shaking his head and rolling his eyes at you.
Before returning to the living room, you stop by the kitchen and grab a cold can of Blue Moon to help take the edge off. Upon reentering the living room, you find that he’s hunched over where he sits in the recliner, leaning forward to grab your book from where it had fallen on the rug.
“What were you reading before I so rudely interrupted you?” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in a smirk as he inspects the cover of the book.
“The Hunger Games,” you answer simply as you place the first-aid kit on the couch and hold out the beer to him. He accepts the drink, a small, surprised smile appearing on his face.
“Shirt,” you instruct a second later, turning to him with a warm, wet rag that you intend to clean some of the dried blood off with. Surprisingly, he obliges your request, placing both the beer and the book in his lap to pull the bloodied fabric over his head.
“And what exactly is The Hunger Games about?” he asks, looking up at you through his thick lashes before turning his attention back to the book in his lap. He flips it over, skimming the words on the back cover.
“The Hunger Games,” you begin as you delicately swipe the damp washcloth across the dirty skin around his wound, watching as the material turns from white to pink as it collects the old blood. “Are dystopian fiction novels. The books get their title from an annual event in which a boy and a girl, ranging from the ages of twelve to eighteen, from twelve different districts are selected by name-drawing to compete in a fight to the death. Twenty-four go into an arena, one comes out.”
“Sheesh,” Bucky grimaces and pops the tab to the beer. You turn away from him, placing the soiled washcloth on the table next to him before retrieving some disinfectant from the kit. “And what’s the point in having a bunch of children kill each other?”
“Punishment and control,” you shrug, pouring some of the clear liquid on a large gauze pad until it’s soaked. He gives you a vague nod, signaling he’s ready for you to clean the wound. You dab the drenched cotton along the opening of the wound, wincing more visibly than Bucky does himself. “The districts where the children are reaped from have had uprisings against the nation’s Capitol in the past. The games are to punish them, as well as to remind them what power the Capitol holds.”
Bucky’s brows furrow together, contemplating your words. You make the initial incision for his stitches and he lets out a grunt of discomfort. “Sorry,” you mumble, concentrating on the stitchwork.
“So what happens?” He asks after a few moments of silence, obviously trying to distract himself from the needle going in and out of his tender flesh as he sips on the amber colored liquid. “The group of kids rebel and take down the Capitol?”
“You’re not too far off,” you chuckle lightly. “I guess you’ll just have to read them for yourself to find out.”
“I suppose I will,” he says, eyeing your needlework from the corner of his eye. “Will you let me borrow your copies when I finish The Lord of the Rings?”
“You’re reading The Lord of the Rings?” you fail at hiding your tone of surprise, more focused on finishing suturing his cut.
“Don’t act so shocked,” he feigns insult. “I read when I have the free time to do so.” He turns his head towards you for the first time since you began stitching, causing you to realize just how close his face is to your own. You push down the fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach at the close proximity, clearing your throat as you turn to grab a pair of small medical scissors. You clip the thread before backing away from him.
“That should hold you together well enough until your supernatural super-soldier healing abilities take care of it while you sleep.”
He stands from his position in the recliner, holding out your book to you. “Thank you,” he tells you sincerely. “For the stitches, and the beer.”
“Of course,” you say as you take your book back from him. “Don’t want you getting blood all over the compound.”
“I think I’m gonna go check on Sam,” he sighs. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”
“Get some rest!” you demand as he retreats to the hallway.
“Yes ma’am,” he calls without looking back, his Brooklyn drawl making an appearance.
For the rest of the night, you try to focus on your book and not the way you felt when his plush pink lips and cerulean blue eyes were just inches from your face.
Receiving Gifts
One week later
Punctuality has never been your strong-suit, but you didn’t expect to be the very last person to arrive at Bucky’s birthday party - get together, as he insists on calling it, since he feels silly having a birthday party at over one hundred years old. However, as you’re approaching the pavilion at the compound’s lake, you see that all of your friends are already mingling comfortably.
Natasha, Sharon, and Wanda wave at you from where they lounge next to the bonfire, Steve and Sam are engaged in an intense game of beer pong (which Sam seems to be doing impressively well at, considering one arm is still in a cast and sling), Clint and Bruce are playing cornhole - everyone is here, though you don’t see the one person you came for.
You make your way over to a picnic table closer to the lake that has been dedicated to presents so that you can add yours to the pile. You had ordered the gift a week ago, the same night that you had stitched up Bucky’s shoulder wound, and it arrived just in time - in today's mail, only an hour ago.
Hence the reason you are the last to arrive with a shittily-wrapped present in hand.
“Is that Avengers wrapping paper?” You whirl around at the amused voice to see Bucky walking towards you.
“That it is,” you confirm. “You and I aren't featured, though. Just the OGs,” you shrug, staring down at the cartoon depictions of Steve and the others.
“I was starting to wonder if you weren't going to come.” He says lightheartedly, nodding in the direction of everyone else.
“Your present didn't get delivered until the last minute,” you explain, giving the box-shaped object in your hand a shake. “Didn't want to show up empty handed.”
“You didn't have to get me a gift at all,” he says reassuringly, but eyes the present curiously. “But since you almost missed my party over it, I should open it right away.” He holds his hands out expectantly, almost childlike.
You roll your eyes, handing over the poorly packaged present. You had never been the best at gift-wrapping, usually preferring to reuse bags.
“I did not almost miss your party. It's just now eight o'clock,” you defend yourself, staring at the sun that's just starting to set over the lake's horizon, painting the New York sky in hues of orange and purple.
He smirks, walking past you to place the present on the table. You watch as he rips the wrapping paper away unceremoniously, until the gift is revealed.
“I know you had asked to borrow my copies,” you begin, suddenly feeling nervous as you watch him look over the box set of the first edition of The Hunger Games trilogy. “But my copies are old, and tattered, and have been annotated to shit, so.. I thought maybe you'd like your own,” you shrug nonchalantly.
He studies the box, pulling out the first book and glancing it over with a look you can't quite decipher. There's a faint hint of rose on his cheeks, and the lines around his eyes crinkle when he turns his head to look at you.
“Thank you,” he says with a soft, earnest smile. “This is incredibly thoughtful of you. I'm going to start reading them–”
“This pizza is getting cold!” You hear Sam's voice bellow from under the pavilion a few yards away. “I'm about to dig in with or without the birthday boy.”
You exhale through your nose, a half laugh, half sigh and look at Bucky expectantly. “Pretty sure you're the only birthday boy here.”
“I guess that's my cue,” he sighs as he places the books with the rest of his unopened gifts. “Thanks again, really. It's my favorite gift,” he adds with a sly grin as he begins to walk towards Sam and the table of pizza boxes.
“You haven't even opened the others yet,” you point out, following in his steps.
“Don’t need to open any of the others to know that yours is my favorite.”
Words of Affirmation
Two weeks later
Overstimulated. That's the best word to describe the way you're currently feeling.
Nervous, uncomfortable, irritable, a little hungry, even - any of those words would suffice, too. But with the way the velvet fabric of your dress hugs your hips too tightly, the way that the conversation of the drunk party guests roars in your ears, and the way that the heels of your feet already burn in your platform wedges so early in the evening, you think overstimulated sums up your current state the best.
You fidget with the extravagant ring that adorns your left ring finger, twisting it back and forth and rubbing the pad of your right thumb across the oval-shaped stone.
You aren't even supposed to be here, your brain keeps reminding you. It was supposed to be Natasha. Natasha, who has a boatload of undercover operations experience. But then she had to come down with the flu. Natasha, who never gets sick with anything more than a head cold, bedridden with the flu the day before a highly anticipated undercover mission that you are now taking her place in.
It's not that you hadn't been part of an undercover operation before - you had. You just hadn't been part of any undercover operation that required you to pose as someone's wife before.
Definitely not Bucky's wife.
The two of you had just arrived at the party no more than thirty minutes ago and you had spent the entirety of that time thinking that you wouldn't be able to make this believable; that everyone would see how anxious and awkward you feel and just know - just know that you weren't meant to be here and that it's abundantly clear that you and Bucky aren't actually together.
“Ivanov just arrived,” Bucky's voice murmurs next to your ear as he walks up behind you, snapping you out of your self-doubt induced trance. His left hand, disguised using nano-tech to look like a human, flesh hand, comes to rest against the small of your back and his right hand extends the drink that he retrieved for you from the bar.
“How'd you know I like lemon drops?” You ask, instantly recognizing the pale yellow liquid in the martini glass.
“I'm your husband. It's part of my job to know your go-to cocktail,” he smirks, looking at you in a way that almost makes you believe his words. “Besides, I'd know your drink of choice anyway. You always order a lemon drop.”
You clear your throat, breaking his stare by checking out the fellow attendees and event staff filtering through the ballroom. You slowly sip the sour liquid, trying to focus on the burn of the vodka and not the heat radiating across the skin of your back from him simply resting his fingers against the material of your dress.
“So where's Ivanov?” you break the tension. The illegal arms dealer that you'd been assigned to spy on was nowhere to be seen.
“He should be showing his face any minute now,” Bucky answers, a hint of displeasure in his voice. “I overheard some men at the bar saying he had just arrived in a three million dollar Bugatti with his twenty year old girlfriend.” You visibly cringe at the numbers. Ivanov had to be approaching senior citizen status at this point.
“Can't say that I'd expect anything else from him,” you sigh, attempting to wipe the disgust from your features. “What’s our game plan from here? Hover close by him and listen in on conversations–”
“Dance with me,” Bucky interrupts, his eyes locked on something on the opposite side of the room. You follow his gaze, realizing that Ivanov has entered with his exceptionally youthful girlfriend on his arm. Bucky extends his own arm to you, which you accept after tossing back the last sip of your drink and setting the empty glass on a table behind you.
He guides you to the center of the dance floor where several other couples are swaying to classical piano music. Ivanov mingles with a small group of questionable looking men just a few feet behind you, where Bucky is able to keep an eye on him.
He places one hand on your waist, using the other to hold one of yours in his own as he begins to slowly sway both of you to the rhythm of the music. Your free hand rests on the back of his neck, where you nervously twirl a tuft of his hair between your perfectly manicured fingers (you tried not to take too much offense to Sharon rushing you to the first salon she could find yesterday to help you look the part).
Bucky huffs a low laugh before using his grip on your hip to tug you closer to him, closing an awkward amount of space that separates your chest from his.
“If we want this to be believable, you’re gonna have to act like you kind of like me,” he murmurs lowly so that no one near you overhears. His face is just inches from yours - the scent of sandalwood from his aftershave and spearmint from his mouthwash is dizzying. Add in the fact that the lemon drop you had just quickly downed was heavy on the vodka, it’s a miracle that you’re still standing upright in these ridiculous heels that Sharon had picked out for you.
“I do like you,” you huff, your cheeks warming. “Not liking you isn’t the problem.” His gaze shifts away from where Ivanov stands a few yards behind you and down to your face.
“What is the problem then?”
You stare at his hand that holds yours, your eyes fixated on the brilliant diamond of your faux wedding ring. “For starters, I don’t really know how to slow dance,” you half-mumble. As if on cue, your left ankle shifts ever so slightly in your shoe, causing you to wobble. Bucky tightens his grasp on both your waist and hand to help steady you. He cackles - loudly enough for an old lady walking by to give him a side-eye.
“I think it’s pretty unlikely that our cover gets blown because you’re a little unsteady,” he whispers reassuringly. It does little to ease the lump of anxiety that has settled in your gut.
“It’s not just my lack of dancing experience,” you retort. “It’s all of this. I’m a bit out of my element here and I can’t help but feel like Natasha would have been able to do a much better–”
“Hey, hey,” he soothes, beginning to massage his thumb over the skin of your hand in languid, circular motions. You can’t decide if it’s the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins or if it’s just the fact that it’s him, but it feels as though there’s a continuous trail of hot sparks everywhere his skin touches yours. “You've got this. If anyone’s got this, it's you. You've handled missions far more daunting than this with ease, right?”
You finally shift your eyes to meet his gaze. His deep blue eyes bore into yours with utmost sincerity. You give him a small nod of agreement and a tight-lipped, uncertain smile.
He leans in closer so that his mouth hovers just next to your ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps down the expanse of your neck and shoulders.
“And remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
The slow, gentle swaying motions you'd been forcing your body to perform come to a sudden halt. You look at Bucky as if he's grown a second head. He’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin spread from ear to ear.
“Did you just quote Peeta Mellark?”
“I finished up the first book yesterday,” he shrugs as if his words hadn't just made your heart skip several beats. “Now let's get this job over with so we can go discuss the book in detail over some greasy diner food, yeah?”
Quality Time
The mere thought of getting the fuck out of that giant estate and away from Ivanov and the other countless skeevy party-goers to gorge on greasy diner food was more than enough motivation to get you through the duration of the mission.
Of course, it helped that Ivanov is a lightweight drunk with no concept of volume control. After a couple drinks, he handed the location of his next illegal arms deal to you and Bucky on a silver platter - without ever even noticing the two of you dancing just feet away from him.
“I'm sending the audio recording over to you right now,” Bucky says as he types on his cell phone. The two of you are currently in a drugstore parking lot half an hour away from the estate, sitting in the Audi SUV that you'd been given for this evening’s mission.
“Got it,” Sam’s voice booms through the car’s Bluetooth speakers a second later. “You guys did great back there. Go ahead and get back to the compound for debriefing.”
Your eyes flash to the time on the vehicle's touchscreen display - 10:06 pm. You can feel your stomach churning from hunger and your skin itching to get out of the restrictive velvet fabric, the last thing you wanted to do at this hour was go to a fucking debriefing.
“About that..” Bucky starts, noticing your disappointed expression and tense posture. “Debriefing is going to have to wait until the morning.”
“We should really get any details while they are still fresh–”
“What’s that? Sam? Sorry, you're breaking up, can't understand what you're–”
Bucky's flesh finger touches a button on the digital display screen and the call disconnects before he finishes his sentence.
“You know he's going to call back any second, right?” You ask after a moment of loaded silence. Bucky says nothing at first. You watch as he powers off his phone, and then grabs yours from its location in the center cup holder and powers it off, as well.
“I fully anticipate him trying,” he answers as he puts the car in reverse and peels out of the nearly vacant parking lot. “But I promised you a potentially gut-rotting meal, and I'm going to keep that promise.”
Half an hour later, you and Bucky sit opposite each other in a cozy, corner booth of the only open diner in a five mile radius. It's half diner, half arcade, and the two of you are some of the only people here save for the teenage couple making out next to the jukebox in the gaming area. You both look out of place - him in his black satin suit and you in your burgundy colored dress with the thigh-slit, but you're too relieved to be eating to care.
He's already scarfed down a fried chicken sandwich and is rapidly making his way through a pile of mozzarella sticks. You're eating a fat stack of blueberry pancakes and the best loaded hash browns that you think you've ever had.
Breakfast foods hit different at eleven o'clock at night.
“I'm just saying, Katniss is kind of oblivious,” Bucky shrugs with a mouthful of fried cheese. “It's obvious that Peeta was never just pretending to be in love with her.”
“That's a big assumption coming from someone who hasn't even started the second book yet,” you say as you fork a bite of pancake into your mouth.
He throws his hands up in mock defense, covering his now empty plate up with a dirty napkin.
“You're not wrong though,” you admit. “She did miss a lot of signs, and she's not always the most reliable narrator.”
He responds with a small hum as he watches you finish your pancakes with a soft smile that shows his laugh lines and the dimple of his left cheek.
His smile turns to something more curious as the young couple who had been making out in the arcade room earlier dashes past your booth and out the back door of the restaurant.
“What is it?” You ask, pushing your empty plate towards the center of the table.
“The game room is free now,” he states, as if it's obvious. “Now I can kick your ass in air hockey.”
And kick your ass in air hockey he does. And skee ball, and Dance Dance revolution.
“Please don't tell Natasha that you beat me at Dance Dance Revolution,” you beg him as you pick up your high heels that you had discarded for the game. “She'll never let me live that one down. In fact, if anyone asks, it was a dead tie for all of these games.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” he chuckles, approaching the pool table in the center of the room and leaning against the edge. “As long as you win this game of pool.”
“No, nope, absolutely not,” you freeze where you're standing, crossing your arms over your chest. “If I couldn't beat you at air hockey then I don't stand a chance of beating you at pool.”
He ignores you, instead turning to choose two cue sticks from the selection on the back wall. He tosses one to you from several feet away, which you instinctively drop your shoes to the floor to catch.
“I haven't even tried to play pool since I was maybe ten years old,” you whine.
“Why were you trying to play pool at ten years old?” he chuckles, gathering up all of the balls and placing them inside the triangular rack in the center of the table.
“It was at a birthday party,” you admit. “I pretended to know what I was doing to impress a boy that I had a crush on.”
“And how did that go for you?” He removes the triangle-shaped container from around the balls and begins to line up his shot.
“Well, I haven't tried to play pool since then,” you begin, taking a seat on the edge of the table and turning your head to watch him. He pulls the cue stick back and quickly stabs it forward, breaking the balls apart and sending them rolling in various directions across the felt table. “And Kyle from my fourth grade class thought that I had cooties, so, you tell me how you think that went for me.”
“Sounds like it was Kyle's loss.” You watch as he walks to one of the table's pockets to look inside. “I've got stripes,” he states, looking at you with an expectant smile.
You exhale a dramatic sigh, hopping off the edge of the table and turning around to position your stick in front of the cue ball.
“Fine,” you relent, looking up at him from where you're leaning over across the table. “But you're not allowed to laugh at me when you realize I wasn't lying about having no experience at this.”
“Scout's honor,” he swears and you can tell by his smile and reddened cheeks that he’s already trying to contain his laughter.
Feeling extra nervous due to the way you can physically feel him watching you, you take an embarrassing amount of time working up the courage to propel the tip of the cue stick towards a solid purple colored ball.
It travels a foot or so across the green felt material of the table and comes to a stop just inches away from a corner pocket.
“Damn it,” you sigh under your breath.
“That wasn't too bad, actually,” he says, not even trying to conceal his tone of surprise as he walks over to where you're standing. “You just need to change your stance a little and hit the ball a bit harder.”
“So, do basically everything differently, then?”
“I can help you, if you want,” he offers with a smug grin.
“Hm,” you bite your lip as you pretend to contemplate the proposition. “Okay,” you accept with a shrug. “But this better not be an attempt to pull a cliche “pretend to help her with pool as an excuse to make a move” kind of move.” You're fully joking - you know Bucky well enough to know he wouldn't make such a corny, obvious move with anyone - and you definitely wouldn't expect him to do so with you.
But you don't miss the way his expression darkens ever so slightly and his eyes sweep up your figure before moving to stand behind you, propping his own cue stick up against the table.
The front of your thighs brush up against the edge of the table and Bucky’s arms enclose you on either side - his hands coming to rest next to each of your legs on the table's edge, as close as they can be to you without actually touching.
Your breath hitches in your throat when the silky material of his suit brushes against your bare shoulders, the sensation causing you to go deadly still as you await his next move.
“With how fast your heart is beating right now, I don't think I would have to do something as cheesy as that to make a move.” He murmurs, his mouth close enough to the exposed skin of your neck that you can feel the heat of his breath. It's an automatic response, the way your head tilts back into his touch. You start to pull away, start to feel embarrassed, start to tell him just how wrong he is, when he brings a flesh finger to the ball of your shoulder and trails his index finger down the skin of your arm, eliciting a surge of goosebumps in its wake.
This physical reaction doesn't go unnoticed by him, either. He hums a small laugh, inching closer to you so that his body presses against your ass.
“In fact,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “I think that if I wanted to, I could have you bent over this table for me without having to resort to anything like that.”
If his chest wasn't pinning you between him and the pool table, you probably would have fallen over. The air in the arcade feels a sudden ten degrees warmer and you swear you can hear your blood pumping in your ears - things that unfortunately can't be blamed on the effects of the martini that had dissipated from your system hours ago.
No, it's all him. His closeness, his warmth, his voice, his scent. Just him.
“If you wanted to, yeah?” You question, your voice an octave higher than you ideally would have liked. “That makes it sound like you don't want to. But the bulge I'm feeling from your pants makes it seem like you do want to. Kinda sending me mixed signals here.” You rut back against him for good measure.
He hisses next to your ear, his hands snapping to your hips, effectively stilling you beneath him. His fingers dig into the flesh around your hip bones, the pressure somewhere perfectly between uncomfortable and pleasurable.
“Here? Bent over this table?” he tuts, his lips grazing the skin next to the shoulder strap of your dress. “Where a couple of unsuspecting teenagers could walk in for a game of skee ball at any second?” He lets out a low laugh, the sound vibrating against your back.
“No, I don't think so,” he continues. “Not when we've got a brand new Audi with a spacious backseat and highly tinted windows just outside this building.”
Physical Touch
If someone had asked you six hours ago if you thought there was a chance you would be ending this night by having sex with Bucky Barnes, you would have said no.
But if someone had asked you if you thought there was a chance you would be having sex with Bucky Barnes in the backseat of a car in a diner-arcade combo parking lot, you would have said fuck no.
You would have been wrong on both accounts. And with the way that he's nipping and sucking up the insides of your thighs, you're pretty fucking okay with that.
Your dress is bunched up around your waist, your panties discarded on the floor of the car. You're laying as comfortably as you can across the backseat with Bucky nestled snuggly between your legs. It's a tight fit, and the stagnant air inside the Audi is balmy, but you'll be damned if you interrupt this to turn the AC on. The only light inside the vehicle is from the glow of the full moon that illuminates the sky, and the giant neon green diner sign a few yards away from where you're parked.
He's not wasting any time - it's well past midnight at this point and considering the fact that Bucky turned your cell phones off hours ago, you're surprised that Sam hasn't traced the location of the vehicle and sent search and rescue already.
As soon as his mouth makes contact with your center, you’re lacing your fingers through his short, soft locks and tugging on them. You grind your pussy against his face, meeting his fervent motions with your own. He locks his lips around your clit before pulling away with an obscene, wet pop that echoes through the cab of the car.
He reaches one hand up to your shoulders while keeping his lips on you, quickly tugging down the spaghetti straps of your dress and then pawing at the fabric covering your chest to free your tits.
At the same time that he plunges his tongue inside you, he rolls a nipple between two of his cool, metal digits, yearning a sharp yelp from you. He releases his grip and then palms your breast in his hand, continuing to work your folds with his lips and tongue.
You don't know if it's the fact that it's been a ridiculous amount of time since you so much as kissed someone or the fact that Bucky eats pussy like he's starving, but you're approaching your climax insanely fast.
You clench your thighs around his ears and push your hips upwards, the friction building that warm tension in your lower belly that comes spilling over when he lets out a guttural moan across your core.
You cum against his face, feeling your juices drip down the insides of your thighs - there's a pesky voice in the back of your head telling you that you're going to have to pay to have this car detailed before giving it back.
He sits up, his back resting against the middle of the leather seat. He unbuttons and unzips his suit pants, raising off the seat just enough to tug them down to mid-thigh along with his boxers. You're still coming down from your orgasm when he's pulling you up from the seat and into a sitting position.
You tuck your legs underneath you so that you're propped up on your knees on the seat directly next to him. Bucky pumps himself in his hand as you lean over, gathering all of the saliva in your mouth and letting it slide between your lips and over the head of his cock.
You push his hand away to replace it with your own, using your spit as lubrication as you stroke him up and down. He throws his head back against the headrest, looking up at the roof of the car as he brings his hand around the curve of your ass, flesh hand finding your pussy that's still throbbing from how hard he had made you cum.
You can feel the smooth band of the engagement ring that you'd been wearing all evening repeatedly caress a large vein on the side of his dick - you remove your hand from him, causing him to snap his head back down to look at you. You bring your other hand to remove the ring from your finger, planning to tuck it into a cup holder for safekeeping while you use your hands on him.
“Leave it on,” he breaks the thick silence when he realizes what you're doing. “Want you to keep wearing it.”
You push the ring back down on your finger, his command sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. You're extending your hand back to his cock when he cuts you off, pulling you to him and across his lap.
You straddle him, his erection locked between your pussy lips and his lower belly. You move forwards, and then backwards - earning another deep groan from him as you coat the underbelly of his cock in your juices. You grind up and down against him several times, until you're feeling impossibly empty and can't take the feeling of not having him inside you any longer.
You lift yourself up on the balls of your feet, high enough for him to guide himself to your entrance. He teases your hole with his head - or at least tries to, before you're sinking yourself down onto his length. You go still for a moment when he's fully inside you, giving you both time to adjust to the new, overwhelming sensation of each other.
You begin to ride him, slowly at first - he stretches you blissfully sweet and soon you're picking up the pace, your ass bouncing off of his thighs with each comedown.
He places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face down to his in a sloppy, searing kiss. It hits you that he's inside you raw right now, and you're just now kissing. You taste yourself on him, warm and salty sweet. He sweeps his tongue along your bottom lip and you open up for him, letting him explore your mouth from the perfect angle that he's at beneath you.
He continues to kiss you but removes his hand from the back of your neck, moving both of them to cup your ass. He begins to meet your movements with his own, thrusting himself upwards so that his cock is ramming into that sweet spot of your cervix and sending you towards a second climax.
“Feel so fuckin’ good,” you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss for air. Your encouragement spurs him on, increasing the speed of his thrusts. Your legs turn to jelly beneath you, but he's got you - he holds you up by your ass cheeks and leans forward to take one of your nipples in his warm mouth.
It's enough to send you over the edge again. Your orgasm builds, heat exploding through your abdomen as his movements grow erratic and he spills into you from below.
He stills beneath you when you're both spent, your chest heaving against his. You make no effort to remove yourself from him, and he seems more than happy to keep you right where you are - his arms locking around your waist and pulling you close to him.
“I guess now would be as good of a time as any to ask you if you'd like to go on a date with me sometime?”
“Go on a date with you sometime?” You lean back, looking down with him with the limited amount of moonlight and neon lighting that breaks through the tinted windows. “We dressed up real nice, slow danced, spied on a bad guy, ate greasy diner food, played arcade games, and you're inside me as we speak. I think it's safe to say we're currently on a date.”
He snorts, breaking into laughter beneath you. “A second date, then,” he concedes. “I would love to take you on a second date.”
♡♡♡♡♡
thank you for reading!!! kind of nervous to put this one out there tbh, i've been working on it off and on for weeks but i love how it turned out and i hope you all do too. as always comments and reblogs are very appreciated 💕
it's nice to have a friend
moth to a flame
oil & water
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nkogneatho · 1 year
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𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐌𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐌𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐓
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—cw: rough, blowjob, degrading nicknames, hair pulling, tie leash, fem!reader
—a/n: this came into existence after i watched the new episode and i realized this mf is insane and actually has some wild ass kinks
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you hated how the world pictured kento. he wasn't just some bored and tired man who hates his job. he was more than that. he was insane. if only there was a way to show them that.
"On the knees." Nanami ordered, the cheetah print tie circling around his big, rough hand.
You did what he asked to. Not that your body had a privilege to betray your lustful brain and deny. He wrapped his tie against your neck and secured it with a distanced but tight knot. Tight enough to yank when needed. You couldn't meet his eyes in embarrassment, maybe a little fear too. This was a side he kept hidden to the world, only portrayed if he either loved them or wanted to kill them.
"Take my cock out, my sweet slut." Your fingers struggled to unbuckle his expensive belt. He wouldn't help, you knew it. Once you got the metal out if it's loop, you aimed for the buttons, then the zip. Your sweet fingers dug through his underwear to find his cock. It felt so big in your hand always, and it wasn't even completely hard yet. You started giving it slow pumps and heard him curse under his breath. you waited for his next command, for him to tell you what to do but it never came. Instead what came was a hand that cupoed your jaw, forcing you to lock eyes with him.
"I'm going to use this beautiful face as my cocksleeve, yeah? You'd let me, right?" Your core wet, your mind hazy at his words. He didn't need to ask. You know it was just a formality and a dessert that came with the gentleman personality. But he was anything but a gentleman in the bedroom. Calling you names. Using you to his satisfaction. But he knew you liked it because he's the one feeling your pussy tighten when he calls you a "slut."
Nanami's hand traveled to the back of yiur hwad where he grabbed a fistful if your head. You gulped in preparation about what had to come. You opened your mouth and Kento slammed his dick inside you. It slid fast through your tongue but you could taste the hint of his precum.
"Fuck. So good for me," he said, beginning to thrust. "You like when I fuck my frustrations on you." You did. "your mouth is my cumdump, right? you're such a good little slut who always sucks my anger out of me." People out there constantly think how is he always so calm. He's not. The truth is here. He comes home and fucks his anger away. And you count yourself lucky to be his fucktoy because holy shit, the way he fucks you makes you feel like you've found heaven on earth. It's sinister. The darkness in his eyes. They consume you. But ironically, the pleasure that he gives you can only be compared with heaven.
"Shit! I am close—sss agh!" he felt the back of your throat vibrate which sent excitment down his balls. "fuckfuckfuck" he cursed as he yanked your hair back to look at your doe eyes. Soon, he caught up to his high and all you could make for a sound was consumed by his thick load shooting deep inside your throat. He was so deep you didn't even get to taste them. Nanami pulled out, the remaining beads of his cum lacing your lips.
"Such a good little slut. my exclusive cumslut," he cooed running his thumb over your lips, glistening with your sakiva mixed with his released. "ready for me to fuck your brains out, fuckdoll?" Like you'd ever say no.
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hmusunoo · 14 days
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𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐓 - 𝐏.𝐒𝐇
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▏pairings. sunghoon x fem!reader
▏desc. Sunghoon makes you squirt...a lot.
▏ warnings. SMUT. MDNI, squirting, head; female receiving, drabble
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"oh!" You squeaked out, arching your entire body off the bed as Sunghoon kept your hips firmly in place. His head was between your legs tongue lapping at your core like a starving man. He had come home from practice acting like a starved man falling to his knees almost instantly upon arriving.
He gave you nearly no time to adjust before he was between your legs ripping your panties down and devouring your pussy like a Sunday morning brunch. You weren't complaining though. Not one bit.
"Fuck" You wheezed gripping Sunghoon's hair in your hands, tugging at him to bring his head up just bit. He looked at you with eyes dark with lust. Breathing heavily you said "I appreciate this and all but what's the sudden rush?"
"I needed you" Sunghoon said nonchalantly with all but a shrug he reattached himself to your dripping wet core. "My god" You muttered out when Sunghoon added pressure sucking on the nub oof your clit.
"That feel good baby?" He asked when he came up for a second of air. He gave you no chance to respond before he was back to his meal. You had never seen Sunghoon so feral before. Sure he had horny but never had he got this ravenous. You seriously wondered what had happened to get him this wanting for you.
You made a mental note to ask him again after this because certainly there was nothing you could do that would get him away from your pussy right now. It was seriously so hot. Your body was heating up at the pressure of his tongue sucking and lapping at you.
"Yes" You finally responded to him, hands still gripping his hair tightly. "Feels so good hoonie" You moaned aloud. Your legs shook and attempted to close as the pleasure became even more all consuming. Sunghoon reached his arms around spreading your legs apart roughly an animalistic growl leaving following suit.
"Don't you dare close these legs" He growled out, your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sound of his growls becoming even more wet if that were even possible at this point.
Sunghoon lifted his head once again replacing his tongue with his fingers to rub at your clit. "Holy-" Your body jerked at the stimulation to your clit.
"Fuck you're so fucking sexy" Sunghoon said his eyes drinking in your entire body. His other hand that wasn't working on your clit roughly attached itself to the top of your thin tank top, yanking it down to reveal your breasts to his hungry eyes.
"Your tits are fucking amazing sweetheart" Sunghoon purred attaching his lips to your nipples as his fingers continued their assault on your clit. The arousal from his fingers and now his tongue on your sensitive nipples were close to becoming too much for you. Your hand gripped onto your other breast trying to ground yourself as the pleasure over took your entire body.
The trembling of your body had Sunghoon quickening the pace of his fingers, sticking one inside your heat with no warning at all.
"It's too...much" You gasped body once again arching up into sunghoon.
"I know sweetheart.." Sunghoon cooed at you "but you're doing so good baby girl just a little more for me yeah?" He asked kissing your nipple lightly. "You can do a little more for me right baby? for me?"
"Yes" You cried "for you!"
"That's it" Sunghoon encouraged as you continued to tremble your mouth opening in a silent scream, your eyes rolling to the very back of your head. Your end was here and it was quite literally one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had.
The shake of your body and the gushing from your core had Sunghoon dazed. His eyes glazed over as he watched you squirt all over him and the bed beneath you two.
"Holy shit" Sunghoon wheezed looking at you with wide eyes as you tried your best to regulate your breathing.
Your cheeks heating up at the embarrassment of what just happened. "I made a mess..."You whispered out. Your eyes adverted looking everywhere but at Sunghoon.
"That was so fucking hot" Sunghoon laughed jumping up from the bed. "I can't believe you did that baby" He finally looked at your noticing your cringing expression.
"What's wrong?" He asked rushing to your side quickly "Are you hurt baby?" He asked you shook your head looking down at the blankets playing with the corner of it in attempt to not look him in the eye.
"That was a little embarrassing.." You trailed off. Sunghoon shook his head quickly a smile on his face "No baby, that was the hottest thing i've ever seen trust me"
"Really?" You asked looking for the extra validation.
"Yes" Sunghoon nodded "In fact I want to do it again..." His smirk was all you needed to see before he pounced back on you seeing if he could make you squirt again, and again, and again.
taglist - @st1llm0nster , @belovedhoon , @blossommi
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konigsblog · 3 months
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Giving Virgin!König a blowjob for the first time. (🌽)
To say that König has been deprived of a woman's touch for years is an understatement. The only woman who has ever laid a hand on him is his own mother, who adores him unconditionally despite his depravity and creepiness. Or at least, up until you came along.
You found enjoyment and satisfaction in teasing König. You liked being fantasized about by a desperate virgin, a pathetic loser who could only dream of being loved by someone like yourself. König wouldn't dare deny you, already spreading his muscular thighs and taking in a shaky, deep breath at the sight of you between his thighs. You knew König was a virgin, that he's never had sex before, never been jerked or sucked off by someone else. König's perverted mind was filled with his sick and dark desires, with his eyes becoming glossy through horniness and desperation.
“Please, Mäuschen. Don’t taunt me...” König let out breathlessly. You pulled down his boxers and chuckled at the way his cock would spring out from the tight confines of his underwear. His boner ached and twitched in front of your face, with his uncut tip already leaking out his creamy, salty pre-cum. König tilted his head backwards and eased into the couch, groaning out gutturally at the sensation of your lips tightly wrapped around his veiny girth. König bit his bottom lip in an attempt to silence himself. He cupped a large hand over his mouth and bucked his sturdy hips skyward through lust and desire. He could feel the wetness and warmth of your slick mouth wrapped around his cock, the feeling already becoming addictive and hypnotising to the poor virgin.
König grumbled out a string of German curses underneath his breath. He gazed down at you between his thighs with wide, delirious eyes, watching as you'd bop your head and swallow each inch of his length. “Heilige Scheiße-! du machst mich verdammt verrückt...” [Holy shit-! you're driving me fucking crazy...] König's voice deepened as his orgasm inched closer. Your soft lips wrapped around the base of his cock were mesmerising and left König delirious. He couldn't control himself as his large hand began pushing your head down onto his fat length, forcing his entire large dick down your little, tight throat.
“Oh fuck-! That’s it, that’s it--!” König's body jerked and twitched with arousal and euphoria, his bulbous and swollen cock oozing out pearly globs of his come down your throat. The sight of your eyes becoming glassy and wet, with your lips coated in a glimmer of his pearly release left König on cloud nine, leaving his thick dick pulsating against your tongue and coating it with his white load.
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sturniqlo · 1 month
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Kiss in the Kitchen- M.S
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summary: both Matt and Y/n find themselves in the kitchen at two in the morning alone. Blurb
cw: cursing, brothers best friend trope, suggestive material (no actual smut), almost getting caught
masterlist | join my taglist | part 2
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2:16 AM read the digital clock that was propped on Y/n's nightstand. She huffed and turned to the other side facing the wall. It was probably the tenth time she has turned to the opposite side trying to fall asleep. She shouldn't have drank that iced coffee before bed.
After turning around one more time, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed and her feet met the cold wooden floor. Y/n made her way, barefoot, to her door and opened it and a cold breeze made it way to her. "Holy fuck." She gasped, her brother must've moved the ac once more.
She felt her nipples harder up against her oversized tee. Making her way downstairs, the creaking of the stairs made her cringe, not wanting to wake anyone else up in the house. Through the dark, she made her way to the kitchen and opened up three fridge getting herself a water bottle, keeping the fridge open for a light source. "Hey." Someone said from behind her. "What the-" She yelped, spilling some water on her shirt. She turned around and sees Matt wearing a tank top and pajama pants hung low on his hips.
"Matt?" She whisper yelled. "Shit, my bad. Didn't mean to scare you." He chuckled, reaching in the fridge for a water of his own. "When did you get here?" Still at a whisper. "Around seven? Daniel texted if I wanted to spend the night." He opens his water bottle. Y/n got home at nine, probably why she didn't know he was here. "I didn't see your car when I got here."
"I had to park in the next block over, there was no parking and I didn't want to take your spot in the driveway." She hummed in response. "So, why are you awake at-" He looks at the stove. "Two twenty eight in the morning?"
"Cant sleep, I drank coffee earlier so I fucked up with that one." Y/n giggles. "You?" She takes another sip of her water. "Your brother snores like a middle aged man, I might crash on the couch." He walks between Y/n and the counter, putting his hand on her waist to get by.
She cant help but get goosebumps all over and clench between her thighs although it was a small gesture. Y/n leans against the counter and tries to shake all the dirty thoughts out of her head. "I just realized, we've never been alone together. Just us two." He walks back from throwing away his empty water bottle. "Really? I- I've never noticed." Y/n stutters.
"Really." He nods, walking up to stand in front of her, placing his hands on the counter, caging her in. "O- oh." Her heart starts beating fast. She's always found Matt attractive. Hot. Every name in the book. "Why're you nervous? Thought you always wanted this, I see how you look at me all the time." Matt grabs her jaw so she can look up at him. "Do you want me?" He says.
"Yes," She nods. "I want you." With that, Matt placing his lips on hers. They pull apart to see if they were okay with it. When nobody completely pulled away, Y/n kissed him again. The kiss was mix of tongue and teeth clashing. Messy, just how Y/n imagined it. "I've wanted this for so long." Matt pulls away to kiss down her jaw. "Fuck- me too." She gasps at Matt sucking on her neck.
She tugs on his hair and brings him back to her lips. If this was the only time she'd have Matt like this, she was going to make last. They could still taste the faintness of the minty toothpaste on each other. Matt brought his hands under her shirt and massaged his cold hands onto her warm waist while her arms came up around her neck, her hands slightly tugging on the hair on the nape of his neck.
His hands crept up her soft belly to underneath her breast. She gasped against his lips. Matt squeezed her tits and she whimpered when his thumb circled her nipples. Matt grew harder at the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Wanting her shirt off, he brought his hands to the bottom of her shirt. "Can I?" He whispered against her swollen wet lips. "Please." She nodded.
When the shirt came above her breast, Matt was awed at her bare chest. As it was going to come off above her head, they heard the stairs creek and Y/n pulled her shirt back down as Matt was frozen. "Hey guys. Why are you two up?" Her brother enters the kitchen and sees Matt looking into the fridge. "I- uh I couldn't sleep and came to get water." Y/n awkwardly held up her unfinished water as she was breathing heavily, but her brother didn't notice as he was still half asleep.
"And I- you were snoring so I came to crash on the couch and found her- uh here." Matt scratched his neck. "I'll- I'll see you two tomorrow." Y/n said and left the kitchen leaving the two boys in the kitchen.
Back in her room, she sat on her bed in disbelief. Did that actually happen? Something that she's been wanting for so long just happened? Y/n could still feel the softness of his lip on her, his hands all over her body. Yet, she still had the ache in between her legs.
Ten minutes later, her phone buzzed on her nightstand. Picking it up, she saw a instagram dm from Matt.
matthew.sturniolo
keep your door unlocked
i'm going once daniel is asleep
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rafecameroninterlude · 2 months
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what if rafe found kook!sweetheart!reader’s girl blog? omg and he see’s some nsfw reblogs…
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warnings: use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (just once), reader is just a 🎀 girl 🎀, 18+ links
a/n: i think i would die if this really happened omg
“i still think i should join you in the shower..” you looked up at rafe’s reflection from your vanity, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “we both know how that’ll end.” you laughed, adjusting your robe before twisting the door knob of your bathroom. “i’ll be right out.” rafe watched as you closed the door behind you, collapsing onto your bed with a sigh. he wanted nothing more than to get you underneath your sheets and, hopefully, have his head between your thighs.
just as he felt himself growing hard at the thought of you gasping his name, he heard your phone ding!
thinking nothing of it, he glanced at the device on your nightstand, a few more notifications coming in. his eyebrows knitted in confusion. you always had your phone silenced at this time of night. fingertips itching to check what was making your phone go off, he muttered a quick ‘fuck it.’ before grabbing the dammed thing. “tumblr?” he narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar app icon.
[11:41 PM] lanasweetheart liked your post: “something about a manly man getting the bestest sleep in a pink hyperfeminine bed (he’s so babygirl 🎀)”
rafe clicked the notif, a ‘what the fuck?’ falling from his lips when a picture of him sleeping next to you lit up the screen. tapping on the profile icon, rafe was in for a surprise when all your posts were now at the tips of his fingers. “three thousand notes?” he was in disbelief that a photo of the back of his head peeking out of your pink comforter had gotten so much traction. “girls really go crazy over that shit?” he laughed, full on scrolling now.
rafe thought it was cute that all your posts consisted of photo dumps of your nights out with your girlfriends, cute selfies with freshly done makeup, nail pics, some rant posts here and there about drama he already had the full scoop on, but then he came across a tag that said ‘୨ৎ thinking thoughts’ that completely flipped his brain inside out.
bf looked so dilfy today, should i ask him for babies?
“you totally should.” he whispered to himself, tongue running across his bottom lip as he kept reading. the next post was a reblog.
gorgeous gorgeous girls pout and whine and whimper instead of using words
“yeah, you do.” rafe could feel heat starting to settle in the pit of his stomach. you were always so sweet and graceful, your boyfriend couldn’t help but feel a smidge of jealousy that an app got to see this side of you before he did.
i just want him to break me sometimes. slap me, choke me, degrade me.. rough me up a little bit that’s all :(
“holy shit.” he cleared his throat, his cock now straining against the denim material of his jeans. he would’ve happily done all of that for you if you asked, but then again maybe that was the problem. you shouldn’t have to. apart of rafe felt bad for invading your privacy like this, but man was he glad that he did.
love when daddy picks out my lingerie for the night <3
rafe’s jaw was on the ground. ‘daddy’???? oh, you were so going to get it. “what are you doing?” rafe jumped at the sound of your voice, having not heard the water to the shower stop. you were in nothing but a robe, the scent of your strawberry shampoo filling up his senses. “what am i doing?” he repeated your question, getting up as he placed your phone back on your nightstand.
“yeah.. did i get a text message or something?” your heart started pounding in your ears as you watched rafe’s eyes grow dark. “no. no text message. ‘was just looking through your filthy tumblr account.” you blinked, chest rising and falling as your blood ran cold. “oh?” you backed away with each step rafe took until you were finally blocked by your wall. “mhmm, turns out my sweet little girlfriend wants to be treated like a whore in bed.”
you swallowed thickly, a gasp leaving your lips when rafe’s hand wrapped around your throat. “wanna be roughed up?” he laughed, dragging you over to your bed before ripping the robe off of your body. “i’ll fuckin’ rough you up.”
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sexy-monster-fucker · 2 months
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Tattered
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Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Mutant!Reader
Summary: Reader, Wade, and Logan decide to go out in the nearby woods to do some casual training. Once Logan and the Reader get to fight, things get heated and escalate. (Reader has a regenerative power as well)
CW: fighting, stabbing, blood, jealous!Logan, Wade being Wade, choking, biting, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v, creampie,
a/n: this is my first time writing for Logan. I am hella excited. Reader has a regenerative power along with super strength and nails that turn into razor sharp claws. Also sorry I don’t proof read, so grammar mistakes I’m sure
~~~
“Fuck— I don’t remember you being this strong!” Wade Wilson, a close friend and teammate of yours, coughed out. You had decided to do some casual training in the nearby woods, giving you all full access to throw down to your full abilities. You pinned him down with your hips, pulling a small knife from your holster. Hovering it above his groin. “Say uncle or you’re gonna be growing Wade Jr. back,” you grinned.
Wade gasped, “Baby Knife? You wouldn’t—“
You began pressing your knife into his pants, breaking the fabric as you inched closer to his favorite asset. “Okay- Okay! Jesus Christ and Mary— UNCLE! There I said it,” Wade held his hands up in between you showing mercy.
A deep chuckle was heard behind you.
Logan Howlett, The Wolverine, stood behind leaned against a tree. Watching as you and Wade fought back and forth for the last thirty minutes. You had taken a liking to Wade’s new roommate. Gruff and stubborn in nature, distant and aloof, but somehow still alluring.
You rolled off Wade, standing and wiping the dirt off your clothes. “When I said I wanted you in my pants, that wasn’t what I had in mind,” Wade stood up behind you. You threw the knife into his thigh, pulling a disapproving groan of agony from him. Silent curse words pouring from his mouth as he pulled the knife out, “I’m keeping this.”
“If you two are done flirting, I think it’s my turn to fight,” Logan smirked at you. He was incredibly handsome. Ever since Wade had came back from the Void with Logan, you had been infatuated. His dark hair, deep voice, everything about him was admirable. Especially right now as you watched him remove his flannel, sporting a white tank top underneath. The veins on his arms popped against the strong muscle. You felt your cheeks heat up.
“Aren’t you a little old to be fighting someone?” You teased as the new 200-year-old from another universe stood before you.
“Oh no, no, no. Me and this guy went at it all night the first time we met,” Wade chimed in. Logan gritted his teeth at him, warning him to watch what he says next.
“All night you say? Sounds like my kind of party,” you stretched your body, preparing to face off with the new guy. You watched Logan roll and pop his neck, stretching out his arms. Admiring his muscular physique.
“He’s got the stamina of a college freshman wired on Redbull and pure sex drive,” Wade patted Logan on the shoulder. Logan held up a fist to Wade’s face, claws extending mere inches from his eyes. “Shut the fuck up. You had your chance to fight, now leave,” he growled at Wade. Wade stomped his foot like a toddler, whining as he spoke, “Whaaaat!? No fair! You got to watch me fight Sexy Mutant Mamma, why don’t I get to watch the two hottest people in our building go at it!” You chuckled at his minor temper tantrum.
“Because you make everything weird! Now get outta here,” Logan held his claws under Wade’s chin pulling a small drop of blood from him. Wade spun on his heal, fists bundled up at his sides as he stomped away into the woods. Grumbling the entire way, “Not fucking fair. Wanted to see their clothes ripped off. Fucking fuck…”
You placed your hands on your hips, standing straight and firm before Logan. “So are we gonna do this or—“ Logan lunged forward at you, catching you off guard slightly. “Holy shit—“ you jumped before he could tackle you to the ground with his first attack. He dug his claws into the ground as he spun around to face where you were now. You opted out of grabbing one of your weapons. Deciding to go in with brute strength instead. You ran towards Logan, fist pulled back preparing to punch him. He grabbed your hand mid punch, twisting your arm. You kicked a leg up hitting him in the ribs. Logan’s claws extended, stabbing you in forearm. You widened your eyes at the three blades puncturing your skin, glaring up at him. You scratched up at him with your razor sharp nails, gashing his tank top and skin. He chuckled out, looking at his blood momentarily. You pushed him away, pulling his blades from your arm.
Your jaw hung open as you stared at him. A shit eating grin on his face. “Wade may be scared of you, but I’m not. I will kick your geriatric ASS,” you dove toward him, cutting at his legs with your hands. Ripping and tearing his jeans as you slashed at his flesh. Logan growled in pain before stabbing you in the back and picking you up over his head. Throwing you onto the ground. You were quick to hop back up to your feet. You caught your breath shaking off the pain you felt. Writhing slightly.
You darted back over to him, kicking at his leg causing him to fall to his knee. You then jumped and kicked him with both feet, throwing him onto his back. “Fuck!” He cursed at you. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as you began punching him. You watched as his nose broke just to heal right in front of you. A cocky grin written on your face as Logan’s eyes stared into yours. Almost as if he was enjoying you on top of him. His arm flexed as he stabbed his claws into your thigh. You bared your teeth at him screaming in pain, “Motherfucker!” He lifted his other fist, releasing the claws right in front of your nose. “I’d hate to mess up that pretty face of yours, doll,” he teased. Your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. Unable to deny how quickly his pet name went to your core. He slashed his claws down your chest, ripping your shirt.
You crawled off him, attempting to get away. “If you wanted to see my boobs that bad you could’ve just asked!” you playfully called back to him. He chased after you on all fours. You threw one of your small knives into his shoulder attempting to slow him down. He grabbed you by the ankle. Falling forward and smashing your jaw into the dirt. You tussled with him, kicking and swatting with claws. Cutting up his arms and shoulders as he tried to pull you back. Bruising strength as his fingers dug into your skin. His eyes were black as he stared at you, a lustful grin on his lips. He jumped forward pinning your body underneath his.
You shared in your panting. His claws dug into the dirt beside your head, the necklace he wore dangling in your face. Sweat beamed on both your bodies. Both of you bearing your teeth at each other. Your panting mouth slowly morphing into a grin, throwing your head back against the dirt stretching out your neck with a sigh. He cocked an eyebrow at you, your eyes darting back to meet his. He leaned down planting a feverish kiss on your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepened it. He pulled his claws from the dirt, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling your fronts flush. Sloppy kisses being exchanged between you, teeth clanking together.
Logan leaned back on his knees, holding you in his arms. “You sure do know how to fight, doll,” he cooed as his eyes stared at your chest. “Yeah? You ain’t too bad for a 200-year-old geezer,” you smirked. Logan grinned, raising an eyebrow at your mockery. One of his hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing at it as pushed you back slightly, “You and Wade sure do have one thing in common. Never knowing how to shut your fucking mouths.” You gasped with his hand on your jugular, smiling widely at him. “I definitely like your mouth a lot better,” he leaned in planting a kiss on your lips. Releasing his grip and pushing your hair out of your face. You caught your breath, hooded eyes staring into his hazel ones. His fingers petted through your hair, “Couldn’t stand to see you on top of him like that. Him having his little fucking hands on you.”
You had no idea Logan had felt this way about you. Sure there was flirting, but that was in your nature. You flirted with everyone, you assumed Logan was playing along. Catching him staring at you from time to time. Him lingering in your doorway before you headed into your apartment. Occasional pet names.
“Ooo, Mr. Jealousy,” you teased. He smirked above you. Leaning down and pressing his lips to your throat, sharp canines grazing as he lapped and sucked your skin. You tangled one of your hands in his hair, holding his head in place as he kissed your skin. Gentle moans falling from your lips. His lips trailed to your ear, “Sounds so pretty.” He pulled your lobe between his teeth. He had marked up your entire neck with hickeys and bite marks.
“Gotta make sure when we get back, Fucko knows to keep his hands off you,” Logan purred in your ear. Every inch of your skin was red hot. Arousal decorating your senses as you stared at the man before you. His hardening cock pressing into you through his jeans. You ran your hands down his chest, pulling a softness from him you had not yet seen. Hooking your fingers under his tattered shirt, lifting it over his head and leaving his chest exposed. Glistening torso with some of the firmest abs you had ever seen, hair on every inch. Admiring his body, fingers dancing delicately on the hair on him. Trailing down to his v-line, fingertips finding the cold metal of his large belt buckle.
Logan pulled your lips to his, kissing you like a touch starved man. Hunger painting his movements, teeth grazing your lip. His fingers tangled in your hair holding you so that your lips would not leave his. One hand ghosting down your side, going up under your shirt. Loving how your soft skin contrasted his corse fingers. Finding their place on your breasts, massaging them with his large hands. Pinching at the thin material of your bra, feeling your hardening nipples. You moaned into his mouth with his touch.
Your lips moved down to his neck, nipping at his flesh. Pulling a deep chuckle from him. A soft moan fell from his lips as yours worked down to his clavicle. His hand guided your chin upward, pulling your lips back to his. Fingers finding the button on your pants, undoing them and placing his hand down the front. Fingers massaging your lips, feeling your arousal glisten on his fingers. “Mmm, you’re so wet, baby doll,” he grinned widely. Your body rutted when he dipped his fingers into you. His name a moan from your throat. Thick fingers curled and massaged your insides, his thumb circling your clit.
You dug your fingers into his back as he continued edging you closer and closer. The tips of your claws penetrating his skin, a wince falling from him. “Easy, sweetheart,” Logan cooed. You mumbled sorry, focusing to retract your claws. One of your hands found its way to his bulge. Palming at his hard cock. Logan moaned at your touch, eyes black with lust as his heavy brow stared at you. You smirked, still a complete mess with his fingers inside you. You tugged at the waist of his pants. Pulling a smile from him.
“You wanna see my cock that bad?”
Electricity flooded every inch of your body with his words. “If I say yes will you fuck me?” You smirked at him. A wide grin painted his face. Raising an eyebrow with your words, leaning in to plant a kiss on you. “Mouth,” he jokingly called you between kisses.
Abruptly pulling his hand from your core and pushing you onto your back. You huffed when you hit the hard dirt. Eyes widening at him. Large hands finding the waist of your pants, pulling them down your legs. Ripping your panties off with them leaving your soaked core bare to the air. Legs shaking with anticipation for him. Logan stared at your core, tongue darting out to wet his lips at the sight. Unable to control himself, delving down and immediately flattening his tongue against your core. You arched your back at the sudden sensation. Grinding your hips against his tongue. Lapping at your entrance like it was his last meal.
Climax building its way through every inch of you as his tongue pressed into you. Heavy fingers digging into your thighs. Deep hazel eyes looking up at you from your hips. The look of him pushing you over the edge. Orgasm washing over you. Your body convulsing and heaving as waves of ecstasy engulfed you. Shouting Logan’s name to the sky.
“There ya go, good girl,” Logan encouraged pulling away from your sensitive opening. You leaned your head back, squinting your eyes shut as waves of aftershock washed over you. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the ground pulling your attention back to him. And what a sight it was. Logan’s large cock curved upward right in front of you. A large vein popping out on the underside, the tip swollen and red and leaking with pre-cum, a bundle of hair decorating the area around it. A mouth watering image.
Logan snickered seeing you slack jawed staring at him. Fucking him with your eyes. Hands finding their place on the ground next to either side of your head, cock pressing at your entrance. All that was left of his clothes was that damn necklace. Chain dangling in your face as you admired the handsome, sweat soaked man.
Large hand positioning himself at your entrance, head delving into your walls slightly. Pulling a moan from you. Swirling the tip around causing your body to quiver, pussy still sensitive from your prior orgasm. Even just the tip stretched you as he pressed into you slowly. Soft groans falling from you.
“C‘Mon, I know you can take it,” Logan purred easing himself into you. You squinted your eyes as his cock begged to pry you open. The girth making you fear he’d rip you open. Fully sheathing himself inside your tight walls. His face contorting in absolute pleasure. Adjusting around his girth, thick cock stretching you perfectly. Logan eased his way back before thrusting back in. With each snap of his hips you moaned. Finding a fast pace in you, panting heavy above you.
You leaned forward placing your lips back to his. Tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Exchanging spit as you licked into each other. Teeth hitting as you deepened the kiss. Hands exploring up his chest, dancing up his toned body. Resting on his cheeks. Lust filled eyes staring into each other as he continued inside you. Slack jawed and breathing heavy.
“Perfect pussy,” Logan growled above you. Thumbs caressing his cheeks. A knot building up inside you that begged to come undone around his large cock. Feeling your walls constrict around him as he thrusted. Each movement pushing you closer to the edge.
“Gonna fill you up, doll. Gonna be so full of me,” Logan panted into your ear. His back straightened as one of his hands found its place on your throat. A minor squeeze of flesh between rough fingers. Eyes rolling back into your head as you felt yourself preparing to finish. Thrusts grew sloppy and harsh, sounds of skin smacking together filled the air. Balls smacking into you with each heavy movement. His name spilled from you as you climaxed around him. Logan moaned loudly feeling how you squeezed him. Milking his cum from him. Shooting hot ropes of himself inside you. Hips rutting as he filled you full of his seed.
He remained inside you, feeling the way your pussy still wrapped around him. Occasional squeeze of walls from aftershock. Feeling him go soft inside you. Both of you wincing at the loss of sensation when he pulled out. Catching your breath as Logan helped with your pants. You sat up, admiring him as he got dressed. Logan looked over his shoulder, grinning as he caught you staring. Extending a hand to you and helping you to your feet, pulling you flush against his chest. Hand petting your hair as he leaned in and gave you a kiss. Silently smiling back and forth.
“So who won?” You joked. Logan rolled his eyes, “Don’t push your luck, doll.” You giggled at his response. Logan wrapped an arm around you as you both headed out of the woods. Loving the warmth of his body next to yours.
“Next time I won’t be leaving,” Wade’s cocky grin met you between the trees. Logan gritted his teeth. He stood with both hands on his hips watching the two of you walk toward him in your ripped and blood stained clothes. “Sounded like you guys were really going at it on the ground there. Sounded just like when I’d catch mommy and daddy having their weekly wrestling matches,” Wade raised his eyebrows. Your eyes darted up at his. Wade caught sight of the purple marks on your neck, laughing. “I didn’t know X-Men training gave you bruises on your neck too!” Wade cackled to himself. Wiping a fake tear from his eye as he sucked in a breath. “When’s it my turn for that kind of training, Y/N?”
You both ignored him, walking past him. You gave a good punch to his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. Wade hunched over coughing. Logan leaned down whispering in Wade’s ear, “Jealousy looks good on you, bub.” Dropping a heavy elbow onto his head knocking him to the ground.
Logan hurried his steps to catch up with you, walking beside you as you headed out of the forest. Exchanging smiles as you walked home together.
~~~
[END]
// Thank you so much for reading! I really love the response people had to the idea of this Fic so I’m more than happy to write it! If anyone has requests for Logan or any other characters, send them my way! If you are interested in being tagged in any future Fics, let me know! //
[tags]
@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @megangovier ~ @darklover06 ~ @castle-of-ruin ~ @akumazwrld ~ @ravenn-darkholme ~ @laweona510 ~ @ivyinthesun ~ @eddiesguitarskills ~ @amandarobertsboyce ~ @urmom02 ~ @ilove-sexydilfsnmilfs ~ @yesi22 ~ @orangehairedbrat ~ @l0sercat ~ @introvertreader20 ~ @shoxji ~ @gingerplague ~ @porflenet
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