#i know it's ending but it fucks me up in both directions

[astercontrol]

god.

this is so painfully true.

and yet...

I feel where that behavior is coming from.

I am an autistic person who has gotten pretty damn skilled over the years at both reading these vague social cues and finding tactful ways around having to use them... but when I was younger, I used to have a lot of trouble picking up on them, and this caused no end of social turmoil.

But, back then, I was also not someone who took blunt criticism well.

I wanted to! I struggled to learn how to accept it! But in the moment, the emotions would just be too overwhelming for me. Usually I'd take it with initial shock and dumbfounded silent nodding-- but then as the reality set in I'd eventually have either a devastated crying fit, or a tantrum, or both.

Which could have a sudden and frightening onset, and I can 100% see why people were too scared to trigger that in me, even if they knew that hiding it was only delaying and probably worsening the problem.

And what's more, I grew up in a household where everyone else (except my mom, who'd learned to repress her emotions even more than normal just to survive there) was pretty much the same.

And, as I grew up, I learned that a fairly large number of people, in and out of my family-- both autistic and otherwise-- are that way. Prone to reacting in volatile, scary ways to any kind of direct criticism.

So I, too, a lot of the time, ended up too afraid to tell anyone honestly when I had a problem with them. Despite knowing that the silence wasn't helping either. Same sort of feeling you get walking around with some horrible festering wound, knowing that it's killing you slowly, knowing your only way to fix it is to cut off your own limb, but never quite brave enough to do that.

And realizing others probably felt the same about me.

In short, for a lot of my life, I was both someone who needed open and honest communication in order to figure out what was going on-- and also someone who was both 1. too scared to do that to others, and 2. too scary for others to do it to me.

...It sucked.

And I am still not certain how much of this was autism-related and how much of it was fucking Minnesota-related.

I saw some snippet of a callout post for an autistic trans woman where they list social faux pas she committed, and I think we allistic people should all feel 100x more ashamed of not telling people in the moment how we feel about what they're doing. I think its extremely evil and cruel to not only lie to an autistic person and blame them for it but also to feel justified shaming them for your behavior. And it's currently the social norm to do that

[sirius-crowley-immortaltwinks]

Taxi

Taxi -March 1 @rosekillermicrofic wc: 610

cw: mentions of vomit and implication of bad family life (not directly mentioned)

“What do you mean you won’t let me use my phone to get an Uber?” Barty slurred. Regulus had taken his keys and phone long ago, knowing his best friend long enough to know that the bastard would try to drive home himself or use his phone for some ungodly reason that is best left to the imagination. 

“Because Barty, you are completely wasted. If you want to keep your head, you can’t use your phone.” Regulus responded, trying to be the voice of reason. Both have been on the receiving end of their parents' wrath for sullying their "good" name for causing problems while 7 or 8 or 9 drinks under. “I’ll get a taxi.” 

Successfully flagging down a taxi was no difficulty for the two heirs to the Crouch and Black fortunes. Everyone recognized them, therefore everyone stopped. A taxi stopped and the two (with much struggle on Barty’s part) slid into the back seat. 

“Where you two headed?” The driver turned to look at the two males and Barty was speechless. Even though his vision was loopy and he was pretty sure he had lost a contact lens at some point, this man was the picture of beauty. Well a picture of beauty and danger. He looked dangerous. He was built like a brick wall. That much could be seen through the man’s shirt. His eyes were the most gorgeous eyes Barty had ever seen. 

“Barty Crouch Jr.” Barty introduced himself, holding out his hand. “Enchante.” The male raised an eyebrow, while Regulus looked at Barty mortified. 

“Rosier.” The driver responded. “And there’s no way in hell I’m kissing your hand.” 

“I am so sorry about that.” Regulus said, pulling Barty’s hand back. “Black tower.” 

“Hey man, it’s alright.” Rosier said to Regulus. “Your mate isn’t the first one I’ve picked up tonight who’s had a few too many.” 

“I have not had a few too many!” Barty exclaimed. “I can hold my liquor just fine, thank you. And I am offended you would suggest otherwise.” 

“Barty, you need sleep.” Regulus groaned, checking his watch, taking note of the time. 3 AM. Seriously regretting letting Barty talk him into going out tonight. The two of them both have multiple meetings to attend tomorrow and he hardly doubts his brother would be willing to go to them in his place. 

“No, what I need is some action.” Barty said with finality. “We need to find a club.” Then he directed his attention to Rosier. “Take us to a club. Doesn’t matter which, just one of them.” 

“Do not even think about it. I will pay you extra for a straight ride to the building.” 

“Don’t worry Mr. Black. We’re almost there.” Rosier responded. And with that the cab pulled in front of Black Tower. Reg quickly got out of the car but was too late as Barty vomited all over the back of the cab and Regulus.  

“BARTY!” Regulus shouted then turned to Rosier who was laughing his ass off in the front seat. “I am so sorry for my friend. He is a fucking moron. I’ll pay to get this cleaned up.” 

Rosier just waved him off. “Don’t even worry about it.” Regulus handed him a wad of cash then started to help Barty into the building when a whistle caught his attention. 

“Hey Mr. Black!” Rosier shouted, out of the open window of the cab. “Give this to your friend. Tell him to give me a call.” 

Regulus took the piece of paper with a messily scrawled set of numbers, with a promise to give it to Barty before helping the intoxicated male into the building.

[roc-haze]

Tis The Damn Season | ArthurTV

In which Arthur is your best friend.

————

Get on the plane. Fly. See your friends. See your ex. Forget why you broke up. Get back on the plane. Fly. Reopen the wound. Repeat.

Moving away to pursue your dreams felt like breaking free. Unbridled opportunity, a new city, separation from the family and friends who don’t quite get you. Ending a relationship around the same time as the move was weirdly liberating and ultimately inevitable. James, your partner, was happy to stay put and had no real desire to move on from the small town in which you grew up.

One of your good friends, Arthur, had experienced the highs and lows of leaving it all behind.

“Let me know when you’re home, and I’ll come over to debrief. The small town fatigue hits hard.” He grinned, embracing you in a huge hug at Heathrow Airport.

Two weeks later, here you were. The flight had gotten in around 8pm, jumping in a taxi and immediately heading straight for your flat. By 9pm, you found yourself laying on top of the duvet, candles lit across the room and a vinyl playing quietly in the background.

The sound of a key turning in the lock echoed throughout the flat, followed by rustling and a quiet “hi mate”. A few moments later, Arthur entered through the doorway and crossed the room to side beside you.

“I had a feeling I might find you like this.” Arthur put down the tote bag he was carrying, laying down next to you.

“What gave it away?” Your voice monotone, lacking any real emotion.

“The photos of James on your story. You looked a little too happy.” Arthur lay staring at the ceiling, not wanting to say too much.

“I think he has a way of pulling me back in,” you let out a sigh, eyes fixated on a mark on the ceiling. “It’s just nice to have someone know you so well… like I forget what it’s like to not have this urge to fill the silence or to make myself exciting to someone else.”

Silence fell over the room, Arthur allowing you the space to vent.

“It’s just fucked, Arthur. God forbid I have a desire to move away and better my life. I mean, look at me. I have a great, fulfilling career. Incredible friends. Am I not worth changing for? He’s acting as if I’m babe for the weekend.” Your voice trembled, eyes watering.

“Do you want an actual answer to that? Or would you prefer to vent?” Arthur asked cautiously.

“Both.” You finally shifted to look at Arthur.

“For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always made space for him in your dreams. You’ve had a goal, a plan on how to get there and so far, you’ve done everything you’ve set your mind to. Some people are just content with what’s in front of them… James is one of them.” Arthur smiled softly.

“I just don’t understand. I don’t see him for months, we see each other again and it sounds like he’s reconsidered and is ready to move. Only for him to turn me down all over again.” Your hands made their way to your face, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not worth it or you’re not enough to move for. It’s just an indicator that he’s not your forever person. The right person will be sure about you… they won’t have to reconsider. They’ll know.” God, Arthur was annoying when he was right.

“You’re probably right.” You sat up against the frame of the bed. “Please tell me you brought wine with you.”

Arthur followed suit, standing up to retrieve his bag. “Of course I did! I have some picky bits too.” He pulled two bottles of wine out of his bag, before holding up an array of snacks.

“You are a man after my own heart, Mr TV.” You gave him a small grin, rising to your feet.

“Shall we go commiserate on the couch? There’s a new episode of 90 Day Fiancé out.” Arthur handed you the wine, throwing an arm over your shoulder and directing you through to the living area. “Just out of curiosity.. do you think you’ll be dating anytime soon? George asked me to put in a good word.”

You laughed, jabbing the man lightly. “For George, I’m free any day of the week.”

——

Author’s note:

Won’t lie friends - this is based on my life at the minute oops. I am in my sad girl Taylor Swift era at the moment 🥲

Working on a Will fic! Please send through any requests 🫶

Deliberately did not pick a small town as I am not British hehe pls imagine for yourself xx

[existennialmemes]

So excited we're about to horrifically torture our Circadian Rhythms by rearranging the clock, because of something that was allegedly more convenient for people over a hundred years ago

[necrotic-nephilim]

ngl i didn't mean for the jason cass twin au to be a pair but I've been sending so much jaycass dead dove shit that i can't complain. never even considered it, thanks op!

WELL happy accidents then khjggjhkjl. i love JayCass so dearly so i'm happy you liked the thought anyway. i think ti's also a really cool platonic concept as well! Jason and Cass as siblings is just something i'm always thinking about. i love them and i love the potential sm. i just think they should interact more DC let them be messy.

[lymtw]

Toji and his shy girl cuddle fucking WHO SAID THAT

A/N: EEHEE I heard it too 🤭 Even if the echo took a while to reach me 😔 No, but really, I loved this! It's been a while since i've written out a request 😅 I'm excited to start trying some of these, again :)

Thank you for sending in this request ��

Toji and His Shy Girl

"Hey, you," Toji says, grinning like a menace at the way your body minimally jolts, like he scared you. "You don't like me or something?"

You turn to look at him, a barely there crease between your brows. "What? I do. What do you mean?"

"I mean, why don't you wanna be with me? You're sitting on your own island over there, while i'm over here... all alone... feeling like chopped liver."

He's cute, you think. Playfully dramatic enough to make you giggle. It's always nice to know he wants you around, too, when you keep your distance to give him that choice.

"I just thought you would want some space, is all," you explain. "This is a pretty long movie, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Would sitting with me make you uncomfortable?" Toji asks.

"No," you respond, though the thought of sitting next to him or on him, has your heart rate picking up. Most of the time, Toji wants it to be the latter, and when this happens, it feels like he's peeking at your soul. You feel like every nerve in your body is tingling and like your skeleton is buzzing. You know he can sense your nervousness, most of the time, and yet he doesn't take it easy on you. His patience, his charm, and his irresistible way of trying to seduce you—none of it ever gets easier to withstand without you feeling flustered.

"You're comfortable, I'm comfortable. We're both comfortable, so, come closer, sweetheart." He sees hesitance flash through your features, before you finally give in and start inching closer.

"Come on. Closer, baby," Toji instructs, watching as you continue to inch towards him. "Look at all this space. Get rid of it."

He chuckles at the properness of your folded hands in your lap, when you sit on the edge of the couch cushion, in front of his legs. "You're gonna stop there and keep watching the movie all uncomfortable?"

"It's fine," you say, smiling at him before facing forward, again. You can feel him staring at you as you try to focus on the movie. His hand goes to your thigh, an act that has your heart beating rapidly in your chest, close to being heard in your ears. He tugs at your sweatpants, earning your attention.

"I'll spell it out for you, doll. I want you here, lying right in front of me. Wanna cuddle with you and shit." You return your gaze to the screen and though anybody would think that it's rude, because it seems like you're ignoring him, Toji knows what it means. He knows it's hard for you to hold eye contact with him, sometimes, and that you looking away gives you time to collect your thoughts and prepare what you want to respond with.

"But you won't be able to see the movie," you say, as a last ditch effort to let him enjoy the movie without obstructing his view and invading his personal space.

"We'll make it work. Just come here. Please?" He pats the spot in front of him, directing you to lie right where he wants you.

"Okay," you say, more to yourself than to him. You scoot down a little more, before lying down on your side, on the exact spot he said he was wanted you. In an instant, you're swallowed up by him. He pulls you in so that you're pressed up against him, his leg overlaps yours, and his face goes straight for your neck.

"T-Toji, I know you can't see the movie. I can go back, if you want."

"Mm-mm. Nope. It's all good. Got what I need," he assures, low against your neck, a hand planted on your stomach. "Pretty baby," he murmurs, pressing kisses onto your skin. "You smell so fucking good."

You feel like some sort of soothing toy for him, with the way any time you sit with him, you end up stealing his focus and withstanding the way he mouths at your skin and runs his hands all over you.

"You comfortable? Have enough space?" He asks, kissing your earlobe. You nod in response and he hums, a click of his tongue and a couple pats to your stomach, expressing his disapproval of the nonverbal confirmation. "Say it, baby. Yes or no?"

"Sorry. Yes, i'm comfortable," you confirm, in a manner more to his liking.

"Mm... you're so good to me, doll," Toji praises, adding a kiss to the appreciation.

He understands that sometimes it's difficult for you to say things out loud and you'll dismiss your own discomfort for the sake of not having to verbalize what is bothering you. It's why he's so adamant on hearing you talk, over seeing you nod or shake your head in response to things. He's working on this with you. He's heard 'sorry' so many times, now, and each time, he rejects your apology, deeming it unnecessary, because he knows you're trying.

Things are still for a few moments. You get fully comfortable, lying there on the couch, with Toji spooning you, and manage to refocus on the movie. His hand goes under your shirt, meeting the warmth of your skin. It's a gesture that disturbs the calmness of your heart, as well as your focus on the TV, again.

"This okay?" He asks, caressing your stomach, occasionally pinching it, gently.

"Mhm," you hum, in response, before pretending to pay attention to the movie. You're too distracted by the dragging of his fingertips and the goosebumps he lures onto your skin. You're sure he can feel them, too, because his hand starts wandering higher up your torso, like he wants to get more reactions from you. You shift minimally when his fingers slide beneath the elastic band of your sports bra, grazing the bottom part of your breast.

"Still comfortable?" Toji asks, keeping his hand still until he receives a response from you.

"Yeah... you're okay," you assure, once again, resting your hand on his forearm. Your breath hitches when his fingertips brush against your nipple. Toji grins at the involuntarily squeeze you offered his arm, finding amusement in the way your body reacts to his touch.

Toji chuckles, lowly, at all your sudden fidgeting. "Does that feel good, mama? Want me to keep going?" He asks, planting a kiss on your shoulder. You're not stopping him. If anything, he can feel you gently pushing his arm so that his entire hand goes up your bra. "It's alright. You can tell me," he says, encouraging you to respond.

"It feels good. Please..." Your soft voice halts, a shuddered exhale released through your nose.

"Mhm, give me more. Please, what?" He says, baiting a more elaborate response from you. "Just saying 'please' doesn't tell me what you need, pretty."

"Please... keep touching me." You cringe, internally, the second the words come out. You don't even realize how proud Toji is or get to indulge in the praise he offers, because you're too busy overthinking what you just said.

"That was perfect," Toji murmurs, scattering light kisses onto your neck. His enormous hand stretches your bra, and grabs ahold of your breast. "I'll give you anything you want, sweetheart. Anything. The trick is... you gotta ask for it."

That alone is enough to teach you another lesson on not always being able to get what you want. It's not always so easy for you to ask Toji for things. He's seen you get frustrated, because of this. It happens, even if your frustration is never loud and you don't raise your voice or throw a tantrum. It's quite the opposite. Too many questions to your initial request, results in you shaking your head, as if to say, 'never mind. I'll do it myself'. Having to repeat yourself too many times, gets a similar result. Even in times when he's just asking you to describe something more, you lose patience with yourself and your inability to communicate what you need, efficiently, and essentially give up on explaining it to him, doing it yourself, instead.

It's times like these that really help you out in that aspect. You want something that you can make yourself feel, but receiving it from Toji makes it so much better, because of the element of surprise. You give him access to your entire body and he gives you everything you could ever want in terms of pleasure. You never know where he's going to touch you and what he's going to touch you with.

"You understand?" Toji asks, seeking comprehension from you. A small whimper interrupts the silence of an expected response. "I know. Tell me," he encourages.

Your grip on his arm gets tighter and more of your restrained soft sounds reach his ears as he keeps rolling your stiffened peak between his fingers. You gasp when he shifts his attention to your other breast and writhe in his arms. "Y-Yes—please—yes, Toji. I understand."

"Sensitive thing." He chuckles. "Look at that little arch. Bet you're soaked, already, huh?"

"Oh... god, i'm sorry," you mumble, relaxing your back against him, again. You feel like you could implode with how much attention you're being given. You just want to shrink and hide under the couch, and just watch the rest of the movie from there.

"You're fine, doll. I know the slightest touch does a lot to you," he says, brushing over your nipple, knowing that your reaction will emphasize his point. "You nervous?"

You groan in response to the question and turn your head so that your face is planted in the pillow, earning another deep chuckle from Toji.

"I'm not gonna eat you, mama," he jokes, grinning at the way your body trembles with contained amusement. "I mean... I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it before. You're sweeter than any candy or cookie—even cake. You're sweeter than all of it, but I need you here with me, so I can't... I won't eat you, alright?" His method of getting you to lighten up worked enough to lure giggles from you. "Yeah, there you go. Relax. Just wanna love on you," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "Wanna make you feel good. You want that, gorgeous?"

Throughout your time with Toji, you've learned that he's a very hands on man. He's constantly seeking your warmth and softness, because physical touch is his love language and he'll put in the work to get you to comfortably connect with him that way, too. You find that sometimes when you're lying in his bed, ready for the sleep part of sleeping over, he'll stick his head up your shirt and just fall asleep like that on your chest. It's easy for him to relax when he can hear your heart wildly beating in your chest. Sometimes, randomly, when you're just sitting next to him, he'll pick you up and set you down on him, just to watch you get flustered when he starts talking to you within such a close proximity. He loves the way you scramble to escape his sight, always ending up with your face buried in his neck.

"Aw, don't go all quiet on me, now, pretty. You know better. Say what's on your mind." His hand slides out of your bra and goes back down to your stomach, the roughness of his palm rubbing your soft skin. You don't like making him beg for you. He's patient enough with your nervous tendencies, you know he doesn't deserve it.

"I want you, Toji," you say, softly. It's a huge contrast to the hammering going on in your chest and the annoying rhythm in your ears.

"Yeah? Keep fucking going, baby. How do you want me?"

"Please," you mumble, reverting back to the familiarity of simplicity.

"No, not like that. Give me a little more," Toji clarifies.

"I... I want you to touch me... and make me feel good. Want you to feel good, too."

You feel and hear the rumble of his laugh behind you, a sound that makes your fingertips tingle and your stomach erupt with butterflies all over again.

"You precious angel. You want me to fuck you?"

You don't know how long you can last with your heart beating so fast. It's a miracle that it hasn't exploded, with how it's almost always racing when you're around Toji.

You feel like your face is on fire, but you nod, and offer a soft, yet, clear, "yes, please," giving Toji the consenting words he's been listening closely for.

"Alright, ma. You just focus on the rest of the movie and i'll take care of you, 'kay?"

"Mhm," you hum, in response. You pull on the drawstring of your pajama bottoms and begin pulling them down with one hand. Toji watches with a sly smirk on his face as he feels you shift around, more of your skin coming into view. This is your effort. This is what makes him love you so damn much. You try for him. He knows your heart is probably in shambles, as you kick the article off and wait for what's to come, but you're showing him that you want this, and that means beyond everything to him.

"You're so perfect, my girl," he says, pressing kisses to your ear. "So, so perfect..." he trails off when his fingers meet the wetness of your panties. He was right. You're utterly soaked. His hand dips into your underwear, instantly greeted by your warmth as he keeps digging. Two fingers drag through your slit, back and forth, for just long enough to have you fidgeting as he collects a sample of your sweetness. Once your thighs attempt to shut around his hand, craving more, he pulls it out and admires the glossy coating on his fingers. Without hesitation, he brings the digits into his mouth, a low hum of satisfaction leaving him as he licks them clean. His cock is throbbing in his pants, straining mercilessly against his boxers as he savors the aftertaste of you on his tongue.

"Straight up fucking sugar," Toji murmurs, as he hastily starts pulling down his own pants, ready to get a feel of what he just tasted. There's a breathiness in his voice, urgency that you can't process, because you can barely believe he sounds that way after tasting you. Then you feel it—the monster he packs, pressing against you.

"I'm all hard, just for you, pretty," he murmurs in your ear, as he starts grinding his bulge against your ass. "Feel that?" He groans. "It's all for you. All yours." He plants a kiss on your neck and halts the movement of his hips against you. His hand returns beneath your shirt, a slow drag up your abdomen, towards your chest. His fingers dip beneath the elastic once more and splay over your breast, squeezing. He can feel the stutter in your chest as he feels up the entirety of it. You keep fidgeting against him, and he recognizes this as your way of saying you need more.

"You ready for me?" He asks, still toying with your stiffened, sensitive peaks.

"Ready," you respond, maintaining your voice as steady and clear as possible. You squeeze his hand through your shirt for deeper assurance.

Toji smiles softly at your little gesture and pulls his hand out of your shirt. Just as he did when he was directing his touch towards your chest, he follows the same path down, tracing your curves until his hand makes it way between your legs. He moves the gusset of your underwear aside, an act that has you shaking your foot against the couch cushion.

"Relax, sweet girl," Toji hums, a low chuckle following. He lowers his boxers enough to pull his throbbing, drooling cock out and smears the precum that beads on his tip all over his length. Once it's all covered he guides his tip to the warm, slick ridden space between your legs. After running it through your slit a few times, to hear the squelching sounds and your little whimpers when he catches your clit, he slowly starts sinking into you.

"There, baby," Toji murmurs. His warm palm rubs the softness of your stomach and he scatters wet little kisses on your shoulder and your neck, all while he continues feeding your cunt his inches. "You're so fucking cute," he coos, listening closely to the sound of your little whimpers and gasps. "Fuck..." he groans, once his hips are flush against you. He can feel the way you clench and flutter around his pulsing cock, making the fit even more snug for seconds at a time.

"All good, little lady?" He asks, pinching your goosebump covered stomach.

"Mhm," you hum, a chime of your giggle following.

Toji's hold on you is secure. He has you. Warm and gentle caresses and brushes of his fingers on your skin prove it, along with the way he languidly grinds his hips against you, as if to remind you that you're connected in the most physically intimate way. It's not like you could ignore it, anyway. You feel all of him. His warmth, his strength, his company. It's impossible to ignore Toji.

"This movie's pretty boring, huh?" He asks, not even paying attention to what's going on, like he hasn't been since you crawled into his arms.

"You're not even watching," you reason, smiling at the kisses he presses to your ear.

"Got a reaaally good distraction right in front of me." He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. "So warm and pretty and mmm... Can't focus on anything else," he purrs.

"It's okay. You can choose the next... the next one, too..." you gasp at the slow thrusts he offers. With every roll of his hips, his cock slides out just about halfway before sheathing back into the velvety warmth of your walls.

"I don't want to watch TV, anymore. Wanna watch you," he murmurs, monitoring your reactions to his movement. Every twitch, every shift of your legs against his. It's adorable, the way you push your face just a little bit more into the pillow when he tries to get a peek at you.

"Like that, baby?" He murmurs, a deep groan following. "Mhm? Yeah, I know," he says, like he's responding to your moan.

"Toji," you hum out, an unintentional amount of sultriness dripping off his name.

"Fucking- god, you sound so pretty, mama. Let me hear that again. Do it again."

His hips pick up the pace a little, just enough to coax more of those melodic sounds of yours. His hand dips lower, proceeding down the front of your underwear, his thick fingers gliding down towards your slippery clit. It doesn't take much of this electric addition to your pleasure to have you squirming and writhing against him. It's hard not to want to squish his hand between your thighs.

You whimper, a slight arch curving your back. Your clammy, shaky hands grip onto the couch cushion beneath you, your knuckles protruding from the force you put into your hold. You think he's on the brink of devouring you—absorbing you— with how he's holding you like you'll teleport into space if he lets go for a second.

"Say my name," he says, calmly, directly in your ear. "Call for me, sweetheart. Who's touching you? Who's making you feel like this?"

"T-Toji," you obediently pronounce, meekly, yet, to the man's utmost satisfaction.

"Again—fuck, baby—again," he groans, speeding up his fingers on your clit. He knows the motions spiked your pleasure because of how your body tensed up against him.

Sloppy kisses are pressed to your nape, as well as the side of your neck, where you know fully well that he must have left a plethora of marks already. You can hear the consistent sharp breaths he releases through his nose as he begins to desperately roll his hips into you, chasing what's coming up on him ridiculously fast. He's not aggressive—not entirely soft—but there's just enough movement to where you can hear a slight creak in the couch.

"Toji," you croon, softly. "T-Toji, Toji," you repeat, a high pitched whimper ending your little chain of his name.

"Oh, you're so fucking sweet, doll. So fucking sweet..." he mutters, his voice deep enough to make goosebumps spread anew, all over you. He hums at the feeling of your cunt erratically clenching around him. It's a tell tale sign—along with the frequency of your precious little sounds—of how you're right there, about to cum all over his twitching cock.

Toji loves how flustered you get when he has you tell him that you're about to cum, but he also loves the abruptness that comes with you being so overwhelmed by his touch and how he handles you, that for a few seconds you tense up and release all the sounds that bubble up in your chest, caving to the relentless amount of pleasure you feel without a warning.

"You're my pretty girl," Toji says, lowly, grinning when that's all it takes for you to gasp and arch off his front. Your body trembles and your thighs squeeze around his hand when his fingers continue to rub your clit. His tip just continues to prod at the sensitive spot within you, further intensify the sensation coursing through you. You're aware of how your moans have gotten louder and attempt to muffle them with the pillow, but your breathy little cries can be heard, regardless.

They spur on Toji's own release. His hand comes out of your underwear to avoid overstimulating you and glides up your abdomen, aiming towards your chest. He grabs ahold of one of your breasts, his hand smothering the entire thing as he squeezes and kneads it. You can hear his breathing grow heavier, his thrusts more punctuated, and a little faster in pace. The creaking of the couch is more frequent, as are his groans in your ear. His hold on you is tight. With his forearm having brought you back as close as you can be to him, you're locked in. With a few more thrusts, into your dripping wet warmth, he's spilling his load into you, breathy, deep voiced expletives tumbling off his lips as smears your gooey walls with all the warm, creamy substance.

"F-Fuck..." he groans, slowing the roll of his hips to a languid grind. "I got you," he says, chuckling at the gasp you let out from being filled even more. He drags unfocused, wet kisses over your shoulder and stills his hips entirely with a heavy breath. "Got you, mama." He loosens his hold on you, allowing you to breathe and move a little more freely. "Good?"

"Mhm. Good," you assure.

"Good. Gimme a kiss," he requests, smirking at the sound of your tittering. "What? You laughing at me 'cause I want a little smooch?"

"No," you say, through soft, but, more audible giggling.

"You promise?" He says, grinning at the slight tremble of your shoulders as your twinkles of laughter continue. "I'll let it slide, just this once. Now, give me a kiss, baby."

With a smile lingering on your face—the aftermath of your short giggle fit—you lie back a little and crane your neck as much as you comfortably can. Toji leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips to your sweet, lip balm layered ones, brushing them over and over as if he's parched and you're a glass of water. Both of your bodies react to the spark of desire reigniting through the gentle gesture. You can feel him throbbing inside you, while he can feel you clenching around him. His hand pawing at your chest makes butterflies swarm in your stomach and fuels the fluttering going on below.

You hear the dramatic background music of the movie's end credits and break the kiss, facing forward. You realize now that you paid just as much attention as he did—almost none—even when you agreed to keep watching as he touched you.

"Play another boring one," Toji says, behind you, already nipping at your ear, because your attention isn't solely on him anymore.

"But you won't watch it," you say, shuddering at the chill that runs down your spine, when you feel his lips behind your ear.

"That's the point."

[medicinemane]

I don't know, those gifs of Andrew Garfield saying how to him the most terrifying thing is certainty... they resonate with me

The way people go around so damn sure that they're right about things, frankly I think there's very few things more dangerous than not even allowing for the possibility that you're wrong

Like you've just decided that you 100% know best, and from now on any evidence to the contrary is just something to be pushed aside because it's clearly wrong. The harm you'll do isn't real because obviously you wouldn't be doing it if there was harm. You're just right. That's the end of it

No, I agree with Andrew Garfield, I'd much rather stop and reassess over and over, as many times as I need to, to make sure that I'm still doing the right thing

I'll never be anything cause it just doesn't interest me, but if I was going to join a religion I know I'd become Jewish

Thought that since I was little with all the Jewish friends I had at school, and what's more it just seems to fit me best, all the elements of questioning. Hell... it even sounds like if I said "you know, I don't really believe in god", that there's a chance the rabbi might say "funny thing, me neither" (I've heard some don't), but if not that at least "eh, that's fine, why don't you come discuss why with us"

It's just funny the number of times I've related to something someone's saying, and then you find out their Jewish and this ties into that sense of questioning things, and that interview is an example

I agree with him, nothing scarier than being 100% sure you're correct... you can do a lot of bad things once you know for a fact you're right to be doing them

[canyonmooncreations]

I can’t stop thinking about bratty princess reader x bodyguards 141

Something something your life is ruined now that your father has hired four broody body guards to be with you at all times. They usually rotate shifts, one staying with you at all times.

Sometimes events call for three of them or all of them. So when it’s time for a royal ball and three of them are needed, Simon opts to sit this one out in hopes to avoid the uncomfortable socialization.

After the ball, John stays at the palace with you and Kyle and Johnny join Simon back at their residence. Simon is absolutely baffled when the boys don’t shut up about how bratty you were and the major attitude adjustment you need.

Talking about how you refused to follow directions, even when they were for your safety. Refused to buckle up in the car and struggled so much that Johnny had to hold you down while Kyle buckled you up. Pouting the rest of the way home. Refused to eat dinner at the ball and insisted they stop at a drive through even though that wasn’t on your itinerary. Threatening to get them fired if they don’t take you.

The boys go on and on about your behavior and Simon just listens, dumbfounded.

“What’s that face for Riley? She even worse with you?” Johnny asks with a frustrated tone.

Simon shakes his head. “No attitude for me.”

The boys both start laughing. There’s no way that’s true. You’re truly a spoiled rotten brat, they think. There’s no way that he’s serious.

They never believe him until there’s an event that calls for all four of them. Simon’s with you at the palace while you get ready. The three boys pull up out front ready for you to join.

They watch as you walk nicely to the car and climb into the middle settling in next to Johnny. Simon climbs in after you. The boys are ready for the battle of asking you to buckle up.

“Buckle, princess” Simon grumbles.

“Yes, Mr. Riley.” The car goes silent. Johnny and Kyle look like their eyes are about to pop out of their head. John doesn’t miss the way your cheeks blushed red.

The car ride is silent. The boys are too shocked to say anything. Since when did you have manners and the ability to follow instructions? John drives with a grin on his face. Simon is unphased as you rest your head on his shoulder.

At the event, you are on your best behavior. You eat your food, move when instructed to move, and smile the whole time. The boys are genuinely so shocked at this new side of you. They watch in awe as Simon approaches you and the ever present feisty look is no where to be found.

“Ready to go?” Simon asks softly.

“Can we please stay a little longer?” You ask so kindly. Simon nods and finds his protective position.

“Did she just say please?” Johnny asked exasperated.

“She doesn’t even know what that word means!?!?” Kyle is just as shocked. John just chuckles and shakes his head.

They then watch as minutes pass and you gently tap Simon and tell him you are ready to leave.

When you get to the car, Johnny decides to put this to the test. Simon gets you in the car and closes the door to talk to the event staff before leaving.

“Buckle up sweetheart.” Johnny instructs.

You give him a polite nod and buckle up quickly. John lets out a chuckle and before Johnny can’t say anything before Simon is joining them in the car. “Bloody hell.” is all that is heard as the car falls silent.

On the way home, you lean over the Simon and ask if you could stop for ice cream. He replies with a simple “No, princess” and is met with no reaction from you. A slight nod and your head falls back against his shoulder.

Kyle is about to lose it. You threatening to get them fired if they didn’t take you through the drive through the other day. What the fuck has Simon done to you??

Something something and now it’s the end of the night. Simon has got you settled into bed and walks into the castle living room to review how tonight went with the security team.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Johnny and Kyle stare at him as if he’s accomplished the impossible.

“Told ya, no attitude with me.”

John chuckles and pats Simon on the back as he grins.

Masterlist

A/n: is this dumb?? It’s been eating my brain for a four hour car ride 😭😭

[killerpancakeburger]

Thinking about a Reader who ends up having Scary Dog Privileges with Ghost without meaning to. It just happened.

Then they have to deal with the fact that this comes with duties too.

Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive, smug!Ghost, smooth!Ghost. 800 words.

Part 2. Part 3.

When Ghost is reluctant to getting sutured in Medical after accidentally opening his stitches, grumbling he can do it himself, who does the nurse call for? Yeah, you.

She could stand her ground, after all she's used to dealing with big, whiny men, but it's much more fun to knock on your door and smile at your bewildered gaze and gaping mouth when she explains the situation in two sentences.

"Ghost's being difficult, mind taking over?" "I'm sorry, what the hell does this have to do with me?" "C'm'on, everyone on base knows he's got a soft spot for you. Don't you want to make my job easier?"

You roll your eyes and slam your hands on your desk as you get up. Groaning as you walk past her— "I'm doing this for you, nothing else, got it?"

Mumbling to yourself "you've got to be kidding me" as you barge into the sick bay. Ghost is coolly seated at the end of a bed, large as life, casual clothes as black as his mask and— oh. You weren't told the wound was on his thigh— you weren't warned that he didn’t have pants on. You can’t help it, your eyes go down, down, your lingering gaze and your flustered silence forming a confession louder than words.

A noise — a scoff or a grunt, you’re not sure — emanates from him, breaks your trance, makes you look up. The amusement in his gaze tells you he noticed your oggling— of course he did. Nothing gets past the Ghost, and you've been remarkably unsubtle. Despite the mask, you swear you can make out the smug smirk on his lips. His cockiness reignites your irritation. Annoyance making you bolder than you really are, you charge at him, crossing the distance between you two in a stride, stopping close— too close. He doesn't back off.

"What's wrong with you?" you snarl. "Nothin'," he retorts, imperturbable.

It's actually the first time you’re overlooking him. You may be enjoying it a bit too much. Nevermind the fact that you've had to wedge yourself between his parted legs to get there.

You frown, unconvinced by his answer.

“Did Soap contaminate you?”

Bargaining to be cleared out earlier was the Scotsman's trademark.

“Johnny throws a fit cos he hates feeling useless. That's not what I'm doing.”

A smirk stretches your lips.

“Oh, no? I'm sure your reasons are much more noble.”

“Doesn't matter. Got what I wanted anyway.”

He's way too self-satisfied for a man in his underwear.

You throw an unequivocal look in the direction of his injury.

“What you wanted? A still open wound?”

“You.”

He replied without missing a beat, as confident as usual. It is both alluring and aggravating.

“And your idea of wooing me is making me upset?”

You don't add “because if it is, that's really fucking stupid” out loud, but you’re sure he got the message through your tone.

“Nah. But you're more honest when you’re angry. Gutsier.”

You only realize he slipped his index and middle fingers in your trouser loops when he sharply tugs at them. Off balance, you steady yourself by catching his shoulders.

Taking advantage of the strip of bare skin between your shirt and bottoms, the pads of his thumbs idly stroke your hip bones. The contact sends electricity through you, shivers of pleasure running down your sides.

“Ghost,” you start, severe, trying not to let the effect his touch has on you show in your voice.

“Simon,” he counters, surly. “Told ya it's Simon when we're alone, didn't I?”

He did, but you didn’t think he was serious. If that's what it takes to get him to listen… you’ll play by his rules.

“Simon. What's the rest of your brilliant plan? I'm here, but I can’t stitch you up.”

“How ‘bout a deal. I'll stop resisting… for a price.”

You raise an amused eyebrow.

“What kind of price?”

“A kiss.”

You snort. You didn’t believe him capable of something so… puerile.

“With the mask on?”

He doesn't move a muscle to get rid of it.

“Take it off.”

You usually wouldn’t obey what sounds like an order so easily, but it's the first time you get to touch the skull. Slipping two fingers between skin and cloth, you slowly roll up the mask all the way under his nose.

You gently trace the scars surrounding his lips. Then, the second you feel him relax, grip on your hips slackening and intensity of his gaze waning, you grab the bottom of his mask and drag it back down vigorously, making the holes for the eyes land way too low for him to see anything.

“If you thought you'd get a reward for acting out, you've got another think coming.”

[chanelsweetx]

s2!rafe x maybank!reader where she’s the little sister of jj & they end up fucking in a bathroom at a kook party. the pogues catch them & rafe is not even trying to denie it cause that was the best pussy he ever had🤭🎀

bathroom

rafe cameron

you and your brothers friends stumble into the kind of fancy party you know you don’t belong at. do you care? not even for a second.

everyone scatters in different directions, john b. looking way too sharp in a black suit, sarah looking nice as well locked into a heated argument with kelce, pope heading straight for the drinks, and your brother jj, with kiara heading for the beer pong table, ready to dominate.

youu on the other hand, pull down your black tight dress so your boobs softly spill out, revealing more cleavage. your head turns to the sound of toppers laugh. you see rafe, a smirk planted on his sexy face. he’s wearing an all black suit, he chuckles as he removes his suit jacket, placing it on the chair next to him. you’d be lying if if it didn’t make your panties wet.

“hey rafe,” you step in between him and topper. topper gets the message and steps away sending rafe a wink. “hey baby,” he murmurs placing his hands on your hips. “where’s your brother?” he asks pulling you in so you’re pressed against him. you glance up at him considering he’s towering over you. “playing beer pong.” you smirk knowing that the beer pong table is far from where you and rafe stand. he leans down softly connecting your lips. the kiss is needy and wet. your hand moves to behind his neck, tugging at his hair. he groans into your mouth muttering, “jump.” as his hands slide behind your thighs. you jump up, your legs wrapping around his waist. he removes his lips from yours as he quickly walks you two over to the bathroom.

once you reach your destination, race places you on the counter, flicking on the warm lights. you tug his tie aggressively reconnecting your lips. his lips are soft and warm, the kiss full of need, considering you two hadn’t had sex in weeks due to your brother being around. “fuck, missed you so much baby.” he groans against your lips. you whimper into his lips as you feel his hardness press against your core. “need you so bad rafey,” you cry out.

he traces his lips down your neck surely leaving marks. his lips then make there way to your cleavage. you squirm under his touch. rafe then moves to where you need him the most, his head moving slightly under your dress. you hear him suck in a breath as he makes eye contact with your core. “all for me?” he asks, pressing his thumb against the material of your drenched black thong. “yes rafe! please, i need you” he smirks placing a soft kiss over your panties, you whimper softly. his fingers hook around your underwear pulling them down. he stuffs them into his suit pocket. “such a pretty pussy,” he compliments making you moan, feeling your arousal cover your thighs.

rafe comes back up to your face placing a kiss on your lips. you smile leaning in to kiss hos neck. your hands trace down to undo his tie and shirt. your lips come back up to his lips, ghosting your hands over his bulge, he moans into your mouth. you then undo the button and zipper of his pants. he then lifts you up flipping you over so you can see the both of you in the mirror. he then pulls down his pants kicking them off his feet leaving him in only his boxers. he unzips the back of your dress and pulling it down leaving you in your matching black lace bra. rafe groans, quickly pulling down his calvin klein boxers, his hard length slapping against his stomach. “ready baby?” he smirks, gripping your hips tightly. you nod aggressively, he chuckles. he slides his cock in between your lips before pushing himself into you. “rafe!” you gasp. he then starts thrusting into you. his length is the perfect size, hitting the spot inside you perfectly with every thrust. he groans behind you “so tight baby, i missed this pussy so much” his grip on your hips growing even tighter being sure to leave a bruise tomorrow. you moan loudly looking at his face of pleasure in the mirror in front of you. he kisses the crown of your head thrusting faster into you,“cum rafe!” you warn, barely able to form a sentence. “me too sweetheart.” he groans. the knot in your stomach then snaps, covering rafes dick in your cum. you then feel him spill deep inside of you.

he pulls out of you softly flipping you over. “you okay baby?” he asks his, eyes full of concern. “never better,” you smile. he places a soft kiss on your lips, rafe smiles back at you, pulling up his boxers and pants. he then picks up your dress off the floor, helping you put it back on.

you both jump at the sound of pounding on the bathroom door as rafe zips your dress. “the fuck do you want,” rafe yells placing a kiss on your cheek. he swings open the door, still shirtless. “rafe cameron you bastard!” you hear the voice of your brother jj. “jayj! calm down.” you interfere. but jj doesn’t care he continues screaming. “baby go find kie, i’ll deal with him.” he offers you a smile. you give him an are you sure? look, he nods.

a punch is then thrown at rafe,

“worth it.”

thank you so much for reading!! leave more requests!!

[fear-is-truth]

BEING IN A POLY RELATIONSHIP WITH THANOS & NAM-GYU l headcanons

pairing — thanos x reader x nam-gyu warnings — (mild) s2 spoilers. smut author’s note — i wrote some corny lyrics for this lol

──⟢  fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

thanos recruited you into his “team” because of his attraction to you. the rapper didn’t try to hide that he found you hot, and he made sure you knew it, throwing compliments your way. his flirting was over-the-top and shameless. he’d call you “senorita” or “babe” in a sing-song voice, leaning in close to make sure you couldn’t ignore him. his favourite move was to serenade you with cheesy raps that made everyone cringe.

one day, thanos sidles up to you, a wide, cocky-ass smirk plastered on his face. he’s got his hands on his hips, like he’s about to drop the hottest bars in the universe. “yo, senorita,” he starts, “you’re the queen of my world, can’t you see? ain’t no one gonna take my throne, you and me, together, baby, we’re destiny!” while nam-gyu, in the background, is rolling his eyes so hard he could probably see the back of his skull. but thanos keeps going, totally into it, “baby, we can rule the game, you and i, got them all thinking i’m the reason they’ll die. you’ll be my queen, i’ll be your king, together we’ll make this whole thing sing!” it’s a miracle you don’t combust from secondhand embarrassment.

nam-gyu, as thanos’s second-in-command, was pissed from the start. in the beginning, it seemed like he was just territorial—angry that you were disrupting the group dynamic. he’d throw side comments like, “oh, great, now we’ve got a distraction,” and give you cold, assessing looks. his irritation was obvious, especially when thanos started giving you preferential treatment, like sitting beside you during meals or casually throwing an arm over your shoulder during group talks.

he tried to act more “mature” than thanos (spoiler: he wasn’t). his idea of flirting was to act tough, which mostly involved bullying weaker players to look impressive. it was like watching a middle schooler try to flex for their crush. in reality, he just looks like an asshole, and you feel annoyed by his attempts to bully someone into submission to show off. he catches your disapproving glare and immediately tries to backtrack, but it just makes it worse.

thanos wasn’t subtle about his future plans for you. “after we win this thing, you’re coming with me,” he promised you confidently. “i’ll make you my official girl. the fans will eat it up—thanos and his queen.” he didn’t ask if you wanted that, just assumed you’d go along with it lol. nam-gyu, on the other hand, played dirtier. when thanos wasn’t around, he tried to plant seeds of doubt in your mind, leaning in to whisper confidentially. “he’s a scumbag, you know. all talk, no loyalty. don’t let him fool you,”

during meals, both of them insisted on sitting next to you, even if it meant practically wrestling each other to the ground. there were no tables, just groups eating near the bunk beds or stairs leading up to them, and you always ended up sandwiched between the two guys. thanos would slouch with his arm around your shoulders, smirking at anyone who looked your way. nam-gyu would mutter snide comments under his breath, low enough for you to hear, but not enough for thanos to notice.

then came the game “mingle,” where the players had to group up based on a random number announced over the PA system. when the voice said “two,” both thanos and nam-gyu grabbed your arm at the same time. “she’s going with me,” thanos barked, pulling you toward him. “what the fuck about me?” nam-gyu shot back, tugging you in the opposite direction. if it hadn’t been for se-mi, who quickly pulled you into a room with her (the two boys found a room next to you), the four of you would’ve fucking died.

the tension escalated at night. at first, both of them insisted on sleeping next to your bunk bed. but as time went on, they started fighting over who got to sleep in your bed. it started as bickering—“move, she doesn’t want you here,” nam-gyu would snap, trying to shove thanos aside. “speak for yourself, bro,” thanos would shoot back, climbing up anyway. it’s like a power struggle between two self-proclaimed alpha males, but it’s over you, which just feels awkward. each one tries to subtly imply their superiority by making the argument about who has the better “qualifications” to be your bunkmate. eventually, the rivalry reached its peak when they both tried to squeeze into your bed at the same time. you ended up stuck between them, neither willing to back down, and neither particularly caring how uncomfortable it made you.

despite the rivalry, the situation eventually settles into some sort of… equilibrium. neither thanos nor nam-gyu backed down completely, but they seemed to reach an unspoken agreement. the two of them started “sharing” you, like some fucked up custody arrangement.

you start to realise that maybe—just maybe—this unholy triangle might not be such a bad thing after all. meal time turned into a prelude for something else entirely. when everyone was distracted, one of them would catch your eye, silently signaling for you to follow. you’d find yourself slipping away to meet them in the bathroom stall.

thanos is all energy, and unable to shut up—being balls deep inside you, his dirty talk came easily, an endless stream of words that tumbled out in rapid succession, that had you equal parts flustered and irritated. especially with how careless he was. you’d have to kiss him just to silence him, pressing your lips to his until his words were replaced by muffled groans. whenever you grabbed his hair, his reaction was instant—a breathy whimper that only seemed to spur him on more. but almost as quickly as the sound left his lips, he was smirking, leaning in to tease you. “don’t mess it up, baby,” he’d warn, his voice playful yet smug. “this shit cost a lot to style.”

nam-gyu, in contrast, was rougher and far less interested in theatrics. he wasn’t one for words—far too focused to waste time on anything unnecessary. he had you pinned firmly against the partition wall, the cool surface digging into your back as beads of perspiration formed along his brow. the thin structure trembled violently under the sheer force of his movements, creaking with every thrust as though it might give way at any second. the silence between you was broken only by a few curses and grunts that escaped him.

[kamitv]

Thinking about Sukuna who...

Hates you (affectionately).

If you expect the king of curses to ever admit his romantic and blissful emotions of love in regards to you, you'd have to (quite literally) be on the verge of death.

He says it a lot too. "I hate you," in place of saying the opposing three words. When you two first got together you found it odd but at some point, you realized that was his idiotic way of saying he loves you.

He'll always have this mean look on his face but sometimes, and only sometimes, you swear you'll find faint little hearts in his eyes when he looks at you. (Then again you might be delusional because look who the hell you're in love with anyway).

Always fucks you like he's mad at you.

Tying you up, choking you, biting you, scratching you-, oh the list goes on with the number of things this man does to you during sex.

He's so mean to you in bed, being sure to stuff you full of his cock(s) for hours on end until you're left completely ruined, and even then most times he doesn't want to stop. The only reason sex ends with him is simply because he pities your lack of stamina.

That, and it annoys him when you're so fucked-out that the sound of his name leaving your lips is barely over a whiney little whisper. Followed by that is usually the frustratingly small pushes you give him, babbling something about it being 'too much', even though your cunt is always saying quite the opposite.

Aside from that, he fucking loves when you're scratching at his back, leaving bright red marks he finds prettier than the dark tattoos decorating the rest of his muscular body. He'll be sure to admire take a look at them the following morning. Then, whenever said scars begin to heal, he'll be sure to remind you to create new ones for him-- he loves them most when they're fresh.

Requires your full undivided attention no matter what.

The moment your name leaves his lips, Sukuna expects every ounce of your attention on him. He doesn't care what you're doing, you're required to be focused on him whenever he requests your attention.

It's almost like he doesn't even 'request' your attention, he commands it. It's in the way he looks at you; the way he'd tip his head into whatever direction you're looking into just so you can understand the seriousness behind his request-- and yes, sometimes he could be saying something pointless like, "You looked foolish running around in the garden like that earlier," To which you'd happily respond to him with both a smile and a chuckle, "You were watching me?" And then he'd feel caught and cover it up with a roll of his eyes, "I always know your whereabouts, human."

Secretly loves having your eyes on his.

Or, he think he hides his love for the eye contact pretty well...

Though, you see right through all of that rather quickly. The way he always tips your chin up so that he can get a full look at your face all the time, tells you to keep looking at him no matter the situation-- he could be balls deep inside you and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and yet he still expects them to eventually return to him.

Even when he's not looking at you he tells you to keep your eyes on him. It frightens you sometimes when you watch him look at something else and then you try to do the same only to flinch at the sound of his rough tone hitting your ears seconds later with a swift, "Did I say you could stop looking at me?"

Hates to see you upset.

As much as the man thrives in the displeasure of others, you're probably the only living thing that genuinely irks his nerves to see upset.

Even though he finds your little pouts and huffs of frustration as cute as ever, he only finds such expressions enjoyable when he's the cause of them. And even at that point, he doesn't exactly like seeing you mad with him. Sukuna already feels as though you should hate him as is so whenever you're actually mad at him for something (most likely killing someone after you've requested him not to do so) it makes his heart twinge in unfamiliar ways.

That's typically when he'll decide it's a good time to throw you a very rare, yet much appreciated compliment. A simple, "You look pretty today," somehow always distracts you from whatever it is you're mad about. Which makes him smirk-- he finds it endearing how easy it is to please you. (Though, he only finds it so endearing because he knows only he can bring you such joy so simply).

Has a tendency to treat you more like some kinda pet instead of a partner.

He truly doesn't mean to but it happens naturally for a curse who knows little of what it means to love someone.

Stuff like, "Fetch me another water, woman." "Sit." and, "Stay here." is often slipping from his lips without second thought. And no he doesn't mean to make you feel like a pet, it's simply the way he speaks to everyone and you're no exception.

Well, you weren't an exception until you explained that you don't like it when he speaks to you like you're some kind of dog. To which he teased you, "Yet you enjoy my praises?" Naturally, you were confused so your brows twisted up and he went on to elaborate, "When I call you a, or my 'good girl', you always tell me how it arouses you." Then you're sputtering out an embarrassed little, "T-That's different and you know it!" "It is still something I would say to a dog." He deadpans, like he always does when he's speaking to you. Your eyes roll and he smirks within the split second your gaze isn't on his, "Yes, but I'm talking about the other things you say." Folding those large bulky arms of his across his chest as he stands before you, "Ah, so you mean when I command you?" Sukuna asks for clarification. "Yes," You reply simply with your eyes returning to his Again, he acts clueless, "You told me you loved dominant men." "That's not what I-," Your face is met with your palm and you let out a heavy sigh before giving up on your little explanation, "Y'know what, never mind."

He pretends to have no idea what you were trying to express in that conversation but you later notice the difference in the way he talks you.

Knows you have a not-so-secret thing for his thighs.

And how can anyone blame you? He often covers them up, of course, but when you first found out he had such slutty tattoos decorating his upper thigh, you couldn't help but he enamored by them.

Though, when Sukuna caught wind of this, he instructs you to ride those same thighs you find 'slutty' and audibly describe to him in detail what it is you like about his thighs so much. So when you're prettily sitting atop him with little to no clothes, safe for the lingerie set he had made for you, all he can do is stare at you with that cocky ass smile of his, ignoring his aching cock whilst he listens to your whiney descriptions of how attractive you find his tattoos.

Loves bickering with you.

He’ll admit this one. Sukuna can’t get enough of getting on your nerves in a teasing manner.

Flicking your forehead mid conversation just to watch your brows twitch and your face twist up, cutting you off as you’re talking just to watch the way you shut yourself up or sometimes keep talking over him as if to compete with him, and disagrees with most of what you say just because.

“The sky is so beautiful today, ‘Kuna, look!” You once exclaimed as you enjoyed a rather peaceful walk with the curse, your arms wrapped snuggly around one of his. He barely spares the sky a glance before grumbling a response to you, “It looks horrid.” “Sukuna,” You huff in that scolding tone he seems to adore so much. Biting back a smirk, “Woman.” With a little groan, you give his bulky arm a nudge with your head, “Can’t you be serious just this once?” “I am being serious,” Sukuna deadpans before looking down at you and meeting your gaze— feeling proud to find your eyes are already on his. You’ve got this pout on your face now, “What’s so ‘horrid’ about the sky? Hm?” Words are flying past his lips faster than he intends to, almost like second nature as he takes in the features of the only human to have every captured his attention, “It doesn’t look like you.” “I-,” You’re smiling immediately, “What?” “Nothing.” Oh how you adore when he does that — compliment you and then get all shy about it, his eyes darting elsewhere, “Awww, Kuna-“ “I’ll kill you, brat,” Sukuna cuts you off crisply as he tugs you further along the long path you’re headed down. “You love mee,” You reply in a nagging tone, flashing the man the brightest smile you can muster. And of course, he’ll never deny that but he also refuses to say those three words to you so, instead, he’s smirking slightly before responding with an expected command of, “Silence, human.”

Will never admit to being jealous.

Despite it being so obvious— he’ll always deny it when you ask.

He walked in on Uraume showing you how to properly prepare a meal one time and decided to nudge his personal chef out of the way just to show you himself. Muttering something about it being ‘easier’ if he shows you himself.

Sukuna often threatens those who have their eyes on you for any longer than five seconds at a time, even if you’re literally talking to them. And yes, yes he’s counting every second.

Has the most degrading nicknames for you.

“Whore.”

His “cockhungry slut.”

“Needy bi-“ He got hit for trying this one out without your permission.

“Brat.”

“Stupid woman.”

“Foolish human.”

But when he does say something affectionate— it typically consists of; “angel”, “perfect”, “beautiful”, “heaven in his hands”, y’know, the usual.

Finds his emotions only ever confusing him when you're around.

His heart feels strange in his chest when you give him small touches.

He can’t stop his breath from hitching in intimate moments when you’re running your fingertips along his jawline and studying his face closely.

You kissed the tip of his nose one time and whispered something about how handsome he was and Sukuna swears he’s never felt the need to protect and savor something more in his life.

If he were ever to lose you, he’d wreak havoc on the rest of the earth until you’re miraculously reborn, of age, into this world once more. (His words, not mine)

Loves your tits more than any other part of your body.

Sukuna likes playing with them for some odd reason. Like a big baby with a sensory video, flash your tits at the man and he can’t think of anything else aside from the soft flesh he’s toying with in his palms.

And he has two pairs of hands so he makes use of them quite often. Approaching you from behind, grabbing your waist with one set of hands and your breasts with the other— he’ll grope your tits and lean down to your ear to whisper about how soft and perfect you are for him.

Dislikes when you make him speechless.

And you do it often too. Each time he sees you, he only feels his words fading over and over again.

The first time he saw you in a red and black kimono constructed specifically for your figure, he felt all thoughts and words leaving him and the only thing on his body still working properly was his cock(s).

You notice how every time you call the curse ‘handsome’ he goes quiet for a moment longer than normal. He’ll stare at you like you’d said something foreign for a few minutes before muttering something along the lines of, “Stop telling me things I’m already aware of, brat.” But, his face is shaded a different hue of red and his eyes wander elsewhere for just a second.

Has and would kill anyone for you or because of you.

This, you have to scold him about. In the beginning of your relationship with the king of curses, he would dispose of people as if their lives had no true value— all for the sake of you.

You had to beg the man for months straight to let go of that sinful habit of his and almost did. The only difference in his killings now versus then is that you don’t know about them. Or, he trues to make sure you don’t know (he’s not that good at keeping things from you).

Is happiest when you call him certain names.

“My lord” “My king” “‘Kuna” “Handsome” but he’ll never admit to his preference for these nicknames over other ones you may call him.

A/N: lmk if there are any errors — this isn’t proofread!

[not-neverland06]

n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 

“You look like shit.” 

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[pedroscurls]

runaway bride (one-shot)

summary: on the day of your wedding, you find out that your maid of honor and husband-to-be has been hooking up behind your back... and you run directly into the arms of a stranger to help you cope with the sudden betrayal. pairing: old man!logan x fem!reader content warnings: smut (18+, mdni), oral - f receiving, dirty talk, manhandling, light choking, unprotected p in v sex (be safe folks!), doggy style, cowgirl, public sex in his limo, creampie but logan just keeps going, mentions of cheating (but not from logan), toxic relationship / friendship, implied age gap (but no mention of how old reader is), no use of y/n. word count: 3.6k a/n: ok, this is complete filth. i'm not even sure how this story came about or how it even came to mind, but here it is... i wanted to write old man logan so badly so what better way to do that is to write a smutty one-shot???

“Are you fucking serious?!” you exclaim, having opened the door to see your fiancé and your maid of honor in a heated kiss, hands exploring each other’s bodies. They both pull away from each other abruptly, eyes widening as the sudden realization of getting caught now settling in.

“Baby, it’s not–”

“Fucking save it.” You remove your engagement ring and toss it in his general direction, tears trickling the corners of your eyes. 

Your best friend tries to step forward, but you raise your hand in the air and glare at her. “Don’t fucking get near me or I will lay you on your ass.”

“I’m sorry–” your fiancé begins to say.

“We’re done.” you interrupt, anger fuming in your veins. “You can go out there and tell everyone that the wedding’s canceled because fuck you,” you tell him and then point to your maid of honor, your best friend of over fifteen years. “And fuck you.” 

You don’t even bother to hear their protests, already having turned on your heel and left the building without telling anyone. You see two limos parked out front, knowing that one belonged to your bridal party and the other belonging to your fiancé and his groomsmen. You don’t have time to think which one was the limo you rode in, already wanting to leave far, far away from here. 

Pulling open the door, you slide inside and then finally allow yourself to let the tears fall. You bury your face in your hands, your breaths coming in pants. 

“Just– Just take me anywhere else but here,” you tell the driver, looking up and expecting to see the same driver from this morning. When you realize it’s someone else entirely, you bite your lower lip and shake your head. Of fucking course you chose the limo that your fiancé had been in.

“A bit early to be leaving your own wedding, isn’t it?” he says, looking at you from the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, well, the wedding is off. Can you just take me away from here?” 

Logan clears his throat. It doesn’t take a genius to know what might have happened, but he also knows that you’re not the one who he’s meant to drive and he’s certainly aware that you aren’t the one who’s going to be paying him either. 

“Listen, darlin’, I’m supposed to be driving the groom and–”

“Well, he can go fuck himself. Can you please just drive?”

“Last I checked, he’s paying me and you ain’t.”

“Oh, he’s gonna still pay you. Now, drive.” you tell him, holding his gaze. “Please.”

Logan stares at you. He isn’t sure what exactly happened, but based on the conversations he heard the groom and groomsmen having earlier that morning, he has some idea that it had to do with the groom cheating on you. He just lets out a grunt and then starts the engine, pulling away from the curb and driving away from the venue.

He doesn’t know where he’s supposed to go or where you want to go, so he just drives. Logan continuously looks at you from the rearview mirror, now fully taking in your features. Logan wasn’t a man who ever cheated on a woman he was with; he’s always been so loyal, especially to the ones he cares about the most. He never understood why men (and women) cheat, why they just couldn’t end the relationship if they were no longer happy. 

He hears you sniffling from the backseat and Logan slowly comes to a stop at a red light. He turns his head to look at you from over his shoulder. “Bub, you gotta tell me where you wanna go or else I’m just gonna keep charging him.”

“Good. Let’s take a trip to fucking Mexico and make him pay for it,” you say through gritted teeth. 

Logan lets out an amused chuckle and then presses lightly on the gas once the light turns green. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel as he uses his free hand to enter Mexico on his phone and–

“Wait, I wasn’t serious.”

“No? Then, where do you wanna go, darlin’?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Anywhere but here.” you mumble to yourself.

Logan nods to himself and then sets his focus on the road ahead of him. He doesn’t know where to go, but he does find that he doesn’t want this ride to end. Even in the silence, he finds your presence soothing, comforting. He knows you’re having a shitty day – after all, you probably had woken up this morning expecting to be married by the end of today. 

He does keep stealing glances at you, finding you completely captivating. Even when your eyes meet his from the rearview mirror, Logan feels like he had been caught staring and a blush slowly blooms across the side of his neck. He’s too old to be feeling like this, like some kind of a teenager with a crush on the most beautiful girl who’s out of his league.

“How about some food?” Logan asks after driving for about twenty minutes. “Are you hungry?” 

“No.”

“Okay,” he sighs. “Wanna go to a bar? Drink your problems away?”

“No.”

Logan tightens his jaw and then pulls into a gas station, putting the car in park as he turns around to look at you. You bite your lower lip, getting a good view of just how handsome your driver is. He’s definitely older than you, gray in his beard and hair, crow’s feet at his eyes, but you can’t help the attraction you feel towards him. Suddenly, you’re well aware that you’re staring too long at him because when you finally meet his eyes, he’s smirking. 

“Why’d we stop?” you ask.

“Gotta fill up, especially if I don’t know how long I’ll be driving you around,” Logan replies. “You want anything from inside?” 

Just as the question leaves his lips, you climb out from the backseat and walk inside. Logan sighs and steps out of the limo as he follows you into the small store. He towers over you and he can’t help but get a good look at the dress you’re wearing. You look so angelic, so beautiful and serene – how could anyone think that there’s better than you? 

“Get whatever you want,” Logan calls out and you suddenly turn around to look up at him. He watches your lower lip pull itself between your teeth, sees your eyes take in his frame from top to bottom, and suddenly, he feels very shy under your gaze. Logan clears his throat, eyes narrowing. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you say, tilting your head up at him. “Just didn’t think… Well, not all limo drivers look like you.” 

“Not all limo drivers are like me either,” he mutters to himself. “Right. I’ll be up at the front. Just meet me there once you’re ready.” Then, Logan turns on his heel and slowly limps his way to the front, only glancing over his shoulder to briefly look at you. Your back’s already turned as you reach for a few items in the freezer section. 

After a few minutes, you meet Logan at the front of the store and drop two bottles of water and a cherry-flavored popsicle. Logan eyes you suspiciously, but you keep your eyes trained on your feet. He has to wonder if your mind is drifting to your fiancé. Once Logan pays the cashier, he motions for you to walk ahead of him with a slight nod and then he follows you outside. Logan quickly limps to the door and opens it for you, staring down at you. 

“Here,” you tell him, handing him one of the bottle of waters. 

Logan arches a brow. “Thanks,” he mumbles, the close proximity almost making him weak in the knees. His eyes deviate to your cleavage, clearing his throat when his mind begins to drift. All Logan can think about is seeing you come undone underneath him, trembling and moaning because of him. He has to take a step back, has to create some distance between your bodies. 

You then remove the wrapping of the popsicle and then wrap your lips around it, the deep red popsicle now coloring your lips. You keep your eyes locked on his and smile mischievously before you climb back inside. Logan shuts the door once you’re inside, the image of your lips around the popsicle giving him a clear image of your lips wrapping around his–

He hears the window roll itself down and Logan quickly walks around to the other side to fill up the tank, not bothering to look into the backseat as he feels the center of his black pants begin to tighten with each passing second. 

Logan hasn’t been intimate in a very long time, his main concern being Charles and his own health, but you… Well, you’re stirring something in Logan that he thought lay dormant. He craves you and he knows that you’re also very vulnerable, having just ran away from your own wedding after finding out your fiancé was cheating on you. Logan doesn’t want to take advantage of you, despite sensing that you might want him too. 

Once the tank is filled up, Logan then walks back to the driver’s seat and climbs in, starting the car. He looks at you from the rearview mirror, still sucking on the fucking popsicle with a dark gaze in your eyes. 

“Where to?” he says, not realizing how quiet his voice comes out.

“Anywhere.”

“Making it real difficult for me, bub.”

You pull the popsicle away from your mouth a quiet pop! and then lets a small smile line your lips, deeply red from your cherry-flavored popsicle. Logan’s hands grip the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white and his claws threatening to come out as a result. 

“Fine. How about your place?” 

Logan lets out a quiet cough, not thinking that you’d be so forward and straight to the point. He shakes his head and then looks over at you from over his shoulder. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, darlin’. You’re only going to regret it and–”

“Listen, I just found out my fiancé and maid of honor were screwing around behind my back. The only regret I have right now is saying yes to marry that man and being friends with that woman. I don’t think I’m going to regret fucking you, though.”

Logan isn’t used to women saying what they want as bluntly as you do and it excites him. He doesn’t answer, just begins driving away from the gas station. He’s so hard beneath his pants, glancing over at you and seeing your eyes locked completely on his. He pulls up into an abandoned parking lot and parks the car, thankful that the windows on his limo are tinted. Logan climbs out from the driver’s seat and then opens the door to the backseat, gently reaching out to take the popsicle from your hands and tossing it over his shoulder. 

“Let’s have you suck something else, huh, darlin’?” 

You grin and then gently tug on the lapel of his jacket, pulling him inside with you as you shut the door behind him. You’re glad that the backseat of his limo is actually rather spacious because now that he’s hovering above you, he seems so much bigger than you, so much more broad. Your hands immediately move across his chest, feeling the chiseled muscles underneath your fingertips.

“I don’t normally do this,” Logan groans, feeling your lips move along the side of his neck, teeth grazing his skin.

“And what’s that? Fuck your passengers?” 

He growls lowly, moving his strong hands to your hips and pressing himself firmly against your lower half as he settles himself between your legs. “You always got a mouth on you?” 

You smirk and pull the ends of your dress higher up your legs until you bunch it at your hips, your white lace panties in full view for him. “Only when I want something.”

“Yeah, and what do you want?” Logan asks, hands moving to play with the waistband of your panties. 

“A distraction,” you grip the lapels of his jacket and bring him down to press your lips against his. He growls against your lips and tugs down your panties, hand moving quickly to your folds and running the length of his finger across your wet heat. 

Logan slides two fingers into you, not giving you time to get used to his thick digits. You let out a quiet gasp, pulling away from his lips to toss your head back at the intrusion. Logan moves you to sit back against the seat as he lies on his abdomen, lowering himself until his head settles between your legs. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him between your legs, your fiancé having never done this for you. When you feel his mouth latch onto your clit, his tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly as his fingers thrust in and out you, you have to let out a loud moan. Your hands move to his hair, gripping it tightly as your arousal drips onto the leather seat. 

Logan pulls his fingers out of you and laps at your juices. He stares up at you, watching as you toss your head back in ecstasy, your mouth agape as continuous moans escape your lips, and he can feel your walls begin to tremble, begin to tighten around his tongue. Logan knows his joints and muscles are going to ache after this, but he knows it’s going to be worth it. Knows that he’s going to want to do this again with you. 

With his free hand, Logan undoes the buckle on his belt, followed by undoing the zipper and button on his pants. He pushes his slacks and boxers down his legs to relieve the pressure against his manhood. He pulls back to look up at you, his chin and beard dripping wet from your slickness. 

“Gonna fuck you now,” he growls. 

“About fucking time.” 

Logan narrows his eyes and moves up your body, hand coming up to rest on your throat. He leans down and gently nips at your jawline until his forehead rests against yours, eyes staring deeply into your own. 

“You like this, don’t you, bub?” Logan whispers huskily, the grip around your throat tightening to add a bit of pressure. You gasp, eyes staring up at him as you feel the tip of his length brush against you repeatedly. The grip around your throat only makes you wetter and you lift your hips impatiently, chasing his hardened length to slide down onto him.

“So impatient,” he grins. Logan releases his grip around your throat and then grabs your hips, turning you over onto your stomach. He grabs you roughly, pulling you back into him as he grips the fabric of your dress. He pulls you to prop yourself on your hands on knees as he kneels behind you, gripping the base of his manhood as he rubs his tip along the length of your sex. 

“Please!” you say impatiently, trying to push back against him. 

Logan smirks and then pushes himself into your tight heat, not wasting any time in filling you to the hilt. He groans at your wetness, at the warmthness of your walls, the tight hold it has around his girth. He pulls back to his tip, only to slam back into you. Logan was telling the truth that he’s never done this before. Driving had only been a way for him to get extra cash, to keep his mind busy, and he certainly didn’t have time for this, but now he can’t even imagine parting ways with you after this. 

His thrusts continue, your walls sliding along his manhood and milking him with every movement. Logan moves to rest his chest firmly against your back, his lips hovering near your ear as you moan continuously with each thrust he delivers. 

“This what you wanted, huh, bub?” Logan growls, gently nipping at you earlobe. “Wanted me to fuck you like this?” He thrusts roughly into you, his skin slapping against yours. 

“Y–Yes!” you exclaim, slowly pushing your own hips back into his. Logan groans, leaning away from you and briefly pausing his movements to watch you move along him. He grunts to himself, lightly slapping your backside as he watches you push back against him. 

Logan watches himself disappear within your depths, only to reappear when you pull back, his entire length glistening with your arousal. He groans to himself and gently pulls out of you. You’re about to protest when he sits against the backseat and grabs you by the hips, placing you to sit on his lap. He grips your dress and rips it in half, causing a loud gasp of surprise to leave your lips. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Fuck the dress,” you reassure him. “I didn’t pay for it anyway.” 

Logan smirks and then feels you lower yourself down onto him, groaning at your tight walls wrapping itself once more around him. He reaches around and undoes your white lace bra, watching it fall from your body as you now sit firmly on his lap, completely naked and exposed for him. 

“Fuck me,” he grunts, watching your breasts bounce with your movements. He feels your hands begin to undo the buttons on his white button down shirt, removing it from his body. Today, he opted to forgo his usual white tank top, so when you lean in to press your chest against his, he can’t help but groan at the sensation of your erect nipples pressing firmly against him.

Logan feels your walls begin to tremble with each movement and he leans in to press his lips against yours, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. With one hand, he moves to grip your throat lightly, sliding his tongue past your lips when you let out a loud moan. He stares up at you, thrusting his hips upwards when your body begins to shake and the grip around your throat only tightens a smidge to cause pressure. 

Your eyes shut tightly and you reach down to grip his shoulders, slamming yourself firmly onto his lap as he feels you to the hilt. Logan doesn’t falter his movements though, chasing his own release. It comes out of nowhere there, hand dropping from the grip around your throat to grab his base, thrusting upwards once, twice, before he pulls out to see his release trickle out of you. 

You’re breathing heavily and you’re looking at him with a small smile and hooded eyes. When he looks down between your legs, his come continuing to trickle down your leg, it only ignites a fire inside of him and he suddenly feels hard again. 

“One more, bub,” Logan growls. “One more.” He thrusts his tip inside of you, grunting lowly before he slides back into you, hands gripping the meat of flesh on your thighs as he feels the stickiness of your arousal mixed in with his come against the base of his lower half. 

Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging them down his arms as your walls are already overly sensitive. Logan doesn’t falter, but his thrusts do become more erratic. “Oh god,” you whimper, trying to pull yourself away from him, but Logan holds you firm on his lap, making you take his assault on you. 

You wanted a distraction and you were certainly getting it. 

Logan leans up and gently nips at your jawline as he plants his feet on the floor of his limo, driving his hips further upwards. He does this a few more times before he holds you against him, releasing into you a second time as he paints your walls with his thick spend. He’s breathing heavily, forehead resting against your chest as his hands on your thighs move to rest on your hips. 

“I uh, fuck,” he mumbles. “I should have asked first and–”

“Stop,” you interrupt. “I like that I can still feel you inside of me,” you smile, feeling him slowly pull out. Even though you miss his girth, his release remains and fills you up. You reach down to wipe the trickle of his come off your inner leg and capture it on the pads of your fingertips. You stare into his eyes and then bring your fingers to your lips, wrapping your lips around it and sucking his release off of it. “Mmm, yum.”

Logan growls, feeling his length stir awake once more. “That want you wanted?” he asks again. “A distraction?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But I think I’m gonna want more distractions from you.”

Logan smirks. “That so, bub?”

“Oh yeah, I need someone to help me through this breakup,” you say honestly. “As long as that’s okay with you…”

Logan nods and then looks down at your exposed front, hand coming up to slowly knead your breast into the pit of his palm. “Yeah, baby. That’s more than okay with me.”

You grin excitedly, letting out a quiet whimper. “So… Your place then?”

“My place,” he confirms. “But how about you ride up front with me?” 

“Yes, please. I do want a taste of you,” you bite your lower lip, hand moving to gently run your fingertip along the length of his manhood. “And I want to do it while you’re driving.”

Logan groans. “Oh, you’re fucking naughty, aren’t you?” 

You nod shyly, biting the inside of your cheek. “I’ve been suppressed,” you admit. “My sex life has been… boring, to say the least.” 

“Blessing in disguise,” Logan points out. “Thank god you’re not getting married to a man who doesn’t take care of your needs.” He leans in and then pecks your lips. “Don’t worry, though, bub. I’m happy to take care of you until then.” 

---

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

[smutoperator]

Training My Daughter

Seol YoonA (Sullyoon), Minatozaki Sana x Male Reader

Part 2 of 4 of All In Family

Tags: alternative universe, assgasms, belly bulging, choking, daddy kink, deepthroating, dirty talking, facesitting, facefucking, finger-fucking, floor sex, leg-locking 69, mating press, messy and sweaty, mother and daughter, multiple creampies, plot twist, rimming, (very) rough sex, (lots of) spanking, squirting, star wars

Word count: 8027.

Sullyoon is one of Dankook University's most popular students. Yesterday, she celebrated her 21st birthday with a crazy party involving members of her sorority and the neighboring fraternity.

However, although she's getting increasingly popular, she still has a way to go before catching her mother.

"SANA, SANA, CAN YOU PLEASE GIVE ME AN AUTOGRAPH?" a university student screams as Sullyoon's mother slowly climbs out of the passenger's seat of a very luxurious car. As soon as Sana walks in her daughter's direction, the campus becomes a Twice fan meet, with many students rushing for the unique opportunity to meet Sullyoon's celebrity mother. Even though many years have passed since her idol career ended, lots are still aware of her viral moves like the iconic "shy shy, shy".

Despite the massive crowd, Sana displays the professionalism she's well known for, while never losing sight of her daughter either. After a few selcas and autographs for some lucky students, she picks up Sullyoon as the two climb into the car and head home.

Sana starts asking questions about Sullyoon regarding her on-campus birthday party. The two chat a lot as Sana is really happy about her daughter being able to go to one of the top colleges in Korea after all her hard work as an once young girl who came from Japan in search of her dreams and became one of the biggest foreign celebrities of Korea in the process. But after a while, the spiciest questions finally arrive.

"How many guys have you fucked in that party, YoonA?" Sana asks her daughter. "T-two," Sullyoon answers, hesitating to tell her mother. But Sana knows she is lying.

"It was at least double that, right, YoonA?" Sana asks again. "Yes, Mother," Sullyoon answers sincerely. "And how are you feeling about that?" Sana keeps launching questions. "A bit sore," Sullyoon answers.

"Looks like you need some training, YoonA. Taking on that many guys at once can be a challenge. I may be shy about lots of things, but sex was never one of them, you know you can always ask me for advice, right?" Sana asks. "Sure," Sullyoon responds, blushing a bit.

"Do you want me to train you for those occasions? I know a guy that will be perfect for you to handle those situations. Should I call him, YoonA?" Sana tells her daughter. "It's your call, Mother, I'll do it as you please," Sullyoon answers.

"Alright, let's head home and prepare ourselves," Sana tells her daughter they dress themselves in very casual clothes that expose their midriffs, Sana taking a top plus Yoga pants while Sullyoon dresses herself in an undersized t-shirt and booty shorts. "Your tummy is so beautiful YoonA, I envy it so much," Sana says. "Thanks, Mom," Sullyoon says as her face turns red again. Both of them are wearing high heels, as Sana gives Sullyoon the first lesson. "The heels always stay on, YoonA," she tells her daughter.

Sana arrives at your house, greeting you with kisses. "Meet my daughter, YoonA," Sana presents Sullyoon to you. "Wow, she's beautiful, but knowing her mother, that's no surprise," you say.

Sana smiles as she enters your living room, full of sculptures and paintings with sexual undertones. She stops right by one that depicts a nude woman and her curves. "That's your mother too," you tell Sullyoon, pointing at the painting. "It's called 'The Perfect Woman', the artist drew its inspiration from Sana and later gave it to me," you say.

"But let's get to the point, every time your mother comes to me, I know she's looking for sex. We know each other since before you were born and that's always been the case," you tell Sullyoon. "Are you excited to be part of a mother-daughter threesome, YoonA?" you ask the young girl.

"Yeah," Sullyoon answers, still a little shy. "Then let's start, I want to worship this beautiful body, I can see you've got the perfect genetics from your mother," you tell her. "Well, she's taller and bulkier, she's got the beauty from myself, but the strength from her father," Sana says, grabbing her daughter's ass.

"Sana, can you show me your ass too?" you ask her as she turns around and displays her nice backside covered by her yoga pants. Sullyoon's cheeks on the other hand already have her cheeks fully in the open. "Damn, your daughter got a great ass," you tell Sana.

"My mother said you are very rough fucking girls, is that true?" Sullyoon asks. "Well, there is a difference, I'm not like the guys at your birthday party yesterday that you had and Sana told me about, who are rough but don't know what they are doing. I'm different, I'm rough in a way that makes girls push themselves to the edge," you say.

"Alright girls, enough of talking and let's start fucking," you tell them as you immediately pull Sana's top down, displaying her beautiful erect nipples. Sana smiles as you put your mouth in her perky tits and suck them in front of her daughter.

"Your turn, YoonA," you say as Sullyoon pushes her top up and lets you suck her tits next. "They are so cute," you say as you press them. You quickly start showing up your credentials, pinching Sullyoon's tits and giving a little tap to her legs that make her let out her first moans. Sana just watches, letting you handle her daughter all by yourself.

"She's so sexy," you say about Sullyoon as you start choking her. "Turn around, let me see that ass," you order as Sullyoon obliges. "Damn, it's really plump," you say, praising her backside. Quickly, you pull her shorts down, unveiling Sullyoon's white panties under it, which are quickly gone in seconds too.

"Damn, she's got a really meaty pussy, are you sure she's your daughter, Sana? Because yours isn't meaty like this," you say, quickly diving to eat it. "Hmmm, so tasty," you say, diving your face between Sullyoon's ass cheeks. "Beautiful ass, meaty pussy, pretty face, damn, Sana, your daughter is a full-course meal," you say, pleasing Sullyoon's meaty cunt and making her moan again.

Sullyoon shows you she's not so innocent, grabbing your head and pushing it against her fuckholes. "Does my daughter taste good?" Sana asks, taking the initiative herself and grabbing your head as well. "Oh, she tastes amazing, just like her mother," you say.

"How about you, Sana, are you gonna let me taste that delicious ass?" you ask her as you push Sana in your direction and pull her pants down in one go. "First lesson, YoonA, horny sluts like your mother don't wear panties when they are horny," you tell Sullyoon.

You spread Sana's ass and dive right on her folds, licking her delicious asshole and her pink pussy. "YoonA, your mother must have the most beautiful and flexible asshole ever, I fucked it countless times and it always goes back to this tight, small hole every time," you tell Sullyoon as you tongue Sana's anus.

"Open that asshole for me, YoonA," you command as Sullyoon spreads her mother's ass. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, you lick my ass so good" Sana moans as you tongue her strawberry-flavored butthole.

But you were far from done, lifting Sana as she clings herself to her daughter while you lick her ass with her up in the air. "Shake that ass in my face, slut," you tell her. Sana does it perfectly even though she's way up in the air, even reaching her legs to caress your clothed cock while Sullyoon kisses her mother's perky tits and jerks herself off to the scene.

"Your mother is such a great slut, YoonA, she lets me do anything I want to her, I hope you're like this too," you say to Sullyoon as you eat Sana's pussy with her body lifted. Sana takes things up a notch, showing she's no slouch and hitting your face with her ass while you try to eat her out. "Damn I didn't think my mother was this crazy," Sullyoon thinks in her head.

You kiss and worship Sana's pussy as you slowly bring her back to the ground. "Best pussy in the world, if yours is half as good, we are in for a treat," you say to Sullyoon.

"Come here, YoonA, worship your mother's pussy, it's where you came from after all," you tell Sullyoon, grabbing her head and shoving it against Sana's perfect cunt. Sullyoon's skill impresses Sana. "Wow, she's very good at that," she says. Needless to say, Sullyoon has been training to lick pussies in her sorority since she joined it, so, of course, she's already well-versed in the art of coochie eating.

You kiss Sana and worship her body while Sullyoon remains glued to her mother's pussy. "Wanna suck my dick, horny bitch?" you ask her, taking your clothes off and displaying your muscular body and your cock. "Yes, I do," Sana enthusiastically answers.

Sana gets on her knees and sucks her favorite big fat cock. "Looks like you already trained your daughter to be nasty, my job will be really easy then," you tell her as you start sensing Sullyoon's tongue rimming your asshole. You grab Sana's head, fucking her face and watching her choke on your cock, the only guy that can truly tame that crazy slut.

Sana worships your balls but you quickly stop her and pound her face, the move of your hips sweeping your ass all over Sullyoon's face. You quickly grab both girls' heads and push them against your both, making them choke all over your cock and anus. "Come on, you nasty bitches, show me how much you want it," you tell them as Sana and Sullyoon's faces turn red.

"Push that dick deep in your throat," you tell Sana, bending her over and spanking her ass before manhandling her throat until she gags again. "You nasty Japanese bitch," you say to her as saliva drips out of her chin and you slap your cock in her face while Sana gives you a radiant smile. "I know you like that, I know you go crazy when I'm your nasty bitch," she tells you, deepthroating your cock shortly after.

"Your mother is a tough bitch to tame, YoonA, but she always falls on her knees for me," you tell Sullyoon as you go really rough on Sana, fucking her face like a fleshlight while turning her ass cheeks red with countless spanks. "You should have a safe word for those occasions, YoonA, I know not every girl is as tough and slutty as your mother," you instruct Sullyoon as you destroy Sana's mouth with all your might, her asshole winking at every thrust you give her.

"Look at your mother's asshole, so beautiful and small," you tell Sullyoon. "Can't deny I would love to fuck that but today your mother said it was going to be all about pussy and I'll respect her," you continued as Sana jerks your cock and spit on it before you shove it back in her face balls deep and put her back in her place.

"Come here, YoonA, now you're gonna watch your mother get fucked like a proper slut," you say as Sana bends over and you start pushing your cock in her pussy. Like every single time, you struggle to fit your thick meat in her tight, very small entrance, needing to make a big effort just to push it inside her. "Oh my Gosh, oh fuck," Sana moaned as your cock shaped her walls like a sculptor shapes his work of art.

"AHHHHHHH," Sana screamed as you quickly switched pace, her hair getting messy and falling all over her face while her cheeks got clapped from behind. You grabbed her slim waist, using all the support you needed to drill her pussy. Sullyoon had flashbacks of some guys doing the same at her party and fucking her from behind, but this looked far more intense, as Sana just closed her eyes and took your cock deep in her pussy repeatedly.

"OH MY GODDDDD," Sana yelled as her pussy got completely rag-dolled. Sullyoon was in awe, watching her mother get completely obliterated in a way she had never seen before, your thrusts at very high speeds clapping her cheeks as you and Sana looked at the painting she inspired, you more convinced than ever she was truly the perfect woman, or, better yet, the perfect fuckdoll for you to freely use.

"Fuck, that fucking dick is so big in my pussy," Sana says as she starts getting wetter and wetter down low. Sullyoon is hyper-fixated, amazed as she looks right at her mom's tight pussy being stretched out at an insane pace, your full nine inches going in and out of it like a piston. But what would come next would surprise her even more.

You give Sana's ass a big spank, which triggers a reaction that shocks the cute Sullyoon. Suddenly, despite being drilled like crazy, her mother fights back, moving her hips in the direction of your shaft and taking control, hitting her cheeks right against your muscular belly. "OH FUCK," Sana screams with a very angry voice, ready to unleash her slutty self to the fullest.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Sana repeats endlessly as she keeps moving her hips like crazy, turning you into a passenger of her insanity. Sullyoon smiles as both of you fuck like animals now, as you grab Sana's hair and try to tame her, spanking her butt countless times and answering her moves. "YEEHAW," you say, pulling her hair with one hand as if she was your pony toy, while your other hand takes care of spanking her ass and grabbing her waist. "Holy fuck, I want this for me," Sullyoon thinks.

"OHHHHH, OHHHHHH, OHHHHH," Sana screams, clinging to a handrail as you freely use her body, moving it at your will with violent thrusts deep in her tight cunt that make her cheeks clap. Sana answers it, moving her hips even more frenetically. Sullyoon is baffled at what she's watching, her mother getting plowed like the good slut she is.

"Look at me licking my squirt, YoonA, I'm such a greedy whore," Sana tells her daughter as you briefly pull out of her and let her bend herself over on all fours. But not for long, as soon as Sana drops to taste her juices from the floor, you mount on top of her and quickly go back to plow her pink pussy relentlessly, your balls smashing hard against her clit.

"OH MY GOD, FUCK, THIS DICK IS SO DEEP IN ME, DADDY, HOLY SHIT" Sana screams as you keep drilling her pussy in front of her daughter. Sullyoon fingers her pussy, getting heavily turned on as she watches her mother lower her head to the floor while you stomp on it. "Taste that pussy," Sullyoon says as she starts squirting on the floor, Sana moving her immobilized head to reach for her daughter's juices.

"Kiss your mother's ass," you order to Sullyoon as you finish pounding Sana, giving her pale butt a few spanks. Sullyoon obliges, going further and licking Sana's butthole. "I said kiss her ass, not lick her asshole," you tell Sullyoon, spanking the disobedient vixen's face. "Harder," Sullyoon begs as you hit her face before she dives back to lick Sana's strawberry-flavored anus again.

"Are you sure you want it harder?" you ask Sullyoon, spanking her again. "Yes, Daddy, I want to be your cockslut, just like my mother," she tells you as you choke her and spank her whole body, especially her fat ass, making the young slut moan. Sana just watches, still recovering from the pounding you delivered to her as you push your face to eat Sullyoon's ass. "Get your fucking face in there," the young slut demands, pushing it against her body as she starts shaking her ass.

"Damn, YoonA, you're so fucking dirty," Sana says as she watches her daughter go full slutty and gives Sullyoon a big smile. You bring both girls side by side, taking turns kissing and worshipping their perfect pussies. Sullyoon is so excited she grabs your head and pushes it against her cunt, before moving it towards her mother's slit, doing it back and forth.

You choke Sana and give her face a few hits. "You're such a nasty whore, you said your daughter needed training but she's a big slut just like her mother," you tell her as Sana smiles. "Now I'm gonna teach her a lesson," you tell Sana.

You put Sullyoon on all fours on the floor as your cock invades her meaty cunt. You start plowing her a little slower than Sana, Sullyoon gleefully moaning as your cock hits deep in her wet pussy. "It's so big, fuck," she moans as you steadily fuck her, your hips hitting Sullyoon's fat ass nonstop. "Oh yeah," Sullyoon moans and ducks her head down, closing her eyes trying to cope with the heat you put in her pussy.

"OHHHH SHIT," Sullyoon lets out her first scream while Sana comes in, you sucking her tits while pounding her daughter. "Are you gonna destroy her pussy in front of me?" she asks as you keep moving your hips and sucking Sana's tits. "OH FUCK," Sullyoon screams as you hit her cervix. "You're gonna make me cum so fucking good, fuck me harder, daddy" she then begs, getting her ass hit in response.

"Can you make me squirt all over my daughter's body?" Sana asks. You promptly follow, reach to finger her cunt as her juices drop all over Sullyoon's back. "Harder, Daddy, harder," Sullyoon keeps begging. You put Sana's high heels on her daughter's back as you make Sana rain all over her daughter's back and pick up the speed. "YEAH, LIKE THAT," Sullyoon screams as she gets showered with squirts and pounded like a slut.

"Please, Daddy, don't stop, I'm gonna cum, don't stop," Sullyoon says as her face starts turning red. You grab her waist and push further deep into her pussy, Sullyoon 's long legs shaking. "Give it to me Daddy, don't stop, I'm so close, fucking take it, please," she begs as she creams all over your cock before you handle the duties to her mother. "You're such a pathetic slut, look at you," Sana says as she disciplines her daughter.

"SPIT IN MY FUCKING MOUTH," Sullyoon begs her mother as Sana follows. "I saw how hungry you were for that dick, you want more?" Sana asks. "Yes, I want more, please," she says. "Then spit on my hand," Sana orders. "Yes, rub it on my face," Sullyoon begs. "Don't be so greedy, YoonA," Sana answers as she does it.

"OH YESSSS," Sullyoon screams as you let her and Sana play with each other a little. Sullyoon sucks her mother's tits and dives into her pink pussy. "I wanna taste it, it's the best-flavored pussy I've ever seen," Sullyoon says. You just masturbate to the scene, watching this lovely affair between mother and daughter as you slap your cock in Sana's greedy face and she licks your balls.

"Rub those sweaty balls all over my face," Sana tells you as Sullyoon moves to watch as Sana worships your big cock. Soon, you turn your attention back to Sullyoon. "Looks like she's hungry for that cock too," Sana says as you hit YoonA's pretty face again. Sana laughs as she watches her daughter get spanked multiple times all over her body.

"AHHHH, YEAH," Sullyoon moans as you keep hitting her ass, before going back to mount on top of her. "FUCK, YES, AHHHHH," she screams. "Open your legs," you tell Sullyoon, pounding her much harder than before. "YES, DADDY," she screams.

But you have different plans, fully committed to humiliating that young slut, quickly pulling out and sitting on her face. "Lick my dirty ass," you tell her as you and Sana team up on Sullyoon, you getting rimmed while Sana eats her daughter's pussy, Sullyoon barely able to breathe as you suffocate her with your ass and Sana bends over to suck your cock.

"Your fucking ass tastes so good all over my face, so fucking sweaty," Sullyoon says while Sana chokes on your cock. You put your feet in Sullyoon's mouth, putting the young vixen in a fully submissive position. "She loves my feet like her mother loves my dick," you say as you spit on Sana's sweaty face while she rubs her face on your cock.

"No wonder YoonA already knows so much, look at the fucking slut that her mother is," you tell Sana, hitting her face. "Yes, I'm a fucking slut for this big fucking dick," Sana answers as she hits back, you two trading kisses, chokes, and spanks on top of Sullyoon's body. You then grope Sana's tits and suck them while she jerks your cock off, Sullyoon moaning and tasting your feet.

"Sit on my dick," you order Sana, who is promptly ready, opening her legs and descending that big pole with ease. "Oh my Gosh, holy shit," Sana moans as she bounces on your cock under Sullyoon's watch, impressed with how fast her mother moves her hips and fingers herself while getting impaled by your massive meat.

"OH MY GOD, THAT FUCKING DICK FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD," Sana moans just as Sullyoon spits in her mother's pussy. She looks at her mother with naughty eyes, pondering how can she be such a good cock rider, as Sana's cheeks clap against your crotch nonstop, her legs fully open as she bounces so fast your cock pops out of her pussy a few times, but quickly putting it back on. "YOUR FUCKING DICK HITS SO FUCKING DEEP," she moans.

"You're stretching her pussy out so good, Daddy," Sullyoon says as she watches your cock go balls deep in Sana's cunt. You start pounding Sana from up top, the Japanese slut holding herself against the wall to not lose balance as her insides get drilled. "OH YEAH, YEAH," she moans.

"Let me taste that fucking cock," Sullyoon begs as she pulls it out of Sana's pussy, ready to suck all her mother's juices. "Hmm I can smell it," Sullyoon says as she sniffs your cock while you share kisses with Sana, deepthroating it to the fullest. "I wanna gag on it so bad," Sullyoon says. "Throat this dick, learn from your mother," you tell her, as Sana helps Sullyoon engulf your cock balls deep.

"Hold your breath and take it all the way deep," Sana instructs Sullyoon as her daughter tries to take your full nine inches plus your balls in her throat. Sullyoon gags multiple times but keeps pushing anyway. "Spit all over his dirty fucking dick," Sana says, pushing her daughter's head against your pole. "Make it fucking bulge on your throat, dive your slutty face on that dick," Sana keeps instructing, Sullyoon making gagging sounds and losing her breath.

"Let me teach you," Sana says as she grabs your cock to herself, quickly bobbing her head hard on it as she pushes deeper and deeper with ease. "It's so fucking sexy watching you choke on that dick, Mom," Sullyoon says as Sana stays focused, taking your length down her mouth, all the way down to your balls. "Give it to me," Sullyoon begs as she lets her mother spit on her face afterward.

"I love this so much," you say as you watch mother and daughter duel like two nasty sluts for your cock. When Sana takes her next turn, you decided to show Sullyoon how far you can push the limits with her mother, locking Sana's small face between your legs and making her choke on your dick, Sullyoon enjoying the graphic image of her mother's beautiful face turned into a mess as she gags on your cock.

"Oh my God, one day I promise I'll be as much of a slut as my mother," Sullyoon tells you as she watches Sana's face get pancaked between your strong legs and your big cock, getting behind her as both of your team up to eat Sana's pussy, the Japanese slut almost puking in your cock with the pressure it exerts in her naughty throat, Sana not looking like a mess, her hair completely ruined as she still manages to take that cock in her mouth all the way deep.

"Are you getting it wet for me, mom?" Sullyoon asks Sana, spitting on her face as you unlock her. Sana is so cock drunk she doesn't want to let it go, but Sullyoon is ready to add her spit to it, both girls now fighting for every inch of your cock, Sana taking your balls while Sullyoon impales her mouth on your shaft. "Oh my God," Sana says with a smile as she watches her daughter tries to match her sluttiness.

"You feel so good down there taking care of our little holes," Sana says as you take turns licking both their pussies and anuses. You then climb back on top, fingering Sana's butthole. "Look how tight your mother is," you tell Sullyoon as Sana's anal cavity refuses to give up. "OH MY GOD FUCK, SHITTTT," Sana starts screaming as you attempt to give her an anal orgasm, her belly moving with your thrusts in her butthole.

"SHITTTTTT," Sana screams as your fingers up her anus make her cum. "Taste it," you tell her as soon as her cunt squirts, Sana swallowing up your wet fingers. "OH MY GOD," Sana keeps screaming as you go back to finger-fucking her asshole. "If she's already cumming like that with just my fingers, can you imagine what she does with my cock in there?" you ask Sullyoon. "I can't wait to see it," Sullyoon answers. "I promise next time she brings you here you'll see, now I need to fuck your beautiful pussies more," you tell her.

You feed your fingers from Sana's butthole straight to Sullyoon's mouth. "Your mother is all sweaty but her ass still tastes like strawberries," you tell Sullyoon. "Yes, you're right, Daddy," she tells you as you fist her mouth, making Sullyoon spit all over her pussy. You two team up on Sana, as Sullyoon eats her mother's cunt while you keep fisting her anus. "That slut is so tight, I can put my whole arm up her ass and her hole shirks back to normal as soon as I pull out," you say.

"OH MY GOD, FUCKKKK," Sana keeps moaning as your finger stimulates her asshole, making her squirt all over her daughter's face. "You're gonna have many anal orgasms like this in the future, YoonA, even better if you can do it just with hands instead of a cock like your slutty mother," you tell Sullyoon as she licks Sana's pussy to the fullest. "OH FUCK MY ASS IS GETTING USED SO WELL," Sana screams as she gets one last anal orgasm.

"You wanna watch how you were conceived, YoonA?" you ask Sullyoon. "Of course, Daddy," the young slut answers. You warm Sana up with some dirty talk and choking. "Who's the biggest slut on the planet?" you ask Sana. "I am," she answers. "That's right," you tell her.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Sana, the perfect woman," you say as you start licking her pussy. Sullyoon is right to her side, masturbating to the hot scene. You give Sana a little anal tease, putting the tip of your cock in her butthole before pulling out and switching to her cunt. "I'll save it for another day," you say.

Despite getting pinned to the floor, Sana moves her hips to meet your cock as soon as it gets in her pussy. You spread her beautiful legs as Sullyoon is already creaming herself watching her mother getting drilled. You drive Sana to the floor, pounding her on an anime-esque mating press position. "OH MY GOD, OH SHIT," she moans as you stretch her pussy out, pounding it balls deep, her asshole winking every time your cock hits her cervix.

You choke Sana and talk dirty to her. "I'm gonna put a baby in that womb, give YoonA a sister that will grow up to be another big slut just like her mother," you tell Sana as you keep drilling her pussy, pressing her cheeks against the floor at each thrust while Sullyoon watches.

"Oh my God, show me the slut I am, breed me, give YoonA another sister," Sana begs as she looks at you with sexy eyes, letting herself get completely stopped in front of her daughter as your rough but very passionate thrusts in her pussy keep mounting. Sullyoon is bemused, watching your cock bulging under Sana's belly. "That woman looks so cute but is so nasty, how does it feel to have the perfect nympho as your mother, YoonA?" you ask Sullyoon. "Well, she's for sure a good mother to me," the young girl answers.

Sana manages to move her hips even pressed to the floor. "AHHHH, FUCK, FUCK, HOLY SHIT," she moans. You let her spin on your cock for a bit, you two trading sexy stares as Sana bounces on your cock while on the floor. "I'm gonna fill this fucking slut pussy," you tell her, getting completely on top of Sana and drilling her harder than ever, making loud noises as your bodies collide with each other at each thrust you give her.

"Watch this YoonA, learn how babies are made," you tell Sullyoon as you slow down, passionately kissing Sana and letting her walls squeeze your cock to the fullest until you fill her womb to the brim. "Your mother said she was not on the pill, hope you can get a younger sister over 20 years later, YoonA," you tell Sullyoon as your semen oozes out of Sana's tight pussy onto the floor. "You wanna go next, YoonA?" you ask the young girl. "Of course," Sullyoon answers.

"Then let's get to the couch," you say to Sullyoon as she follows you. Sana stays on the floor a little more as scoops your cum from it and licks it, while you turn your attention to her daughter.

You shove your cock balls deep in Sullyoon's mouth. "Get me hard again," you tell her. Sullyoon quickly obliges as she lets you fuck her face, but this time shows more willingness to fight back, bobbing her head hard as Sana is already back there to give her daughter instructions. "Keep your eyes open, take it all the way in, get him hard again for that meaty young pussy," her mother says.

Sullyoon grows more and more accustomed to your cock, filling it full of her saliva as deepthroats it hard. "Keep going, YoonA, get it wet for your pussy," Sana tells her as Sullyoon keeps choking on your already hard meat. You push it balls deep once again, her trying to last longer with it deep in her mouth, enjoying the string of saliva covering her pretty face.

"Open your eyes," Sana keeps saying as Sullyoon struggles to gag on your meat. "Louder, keep choking," her mother commands. "Here, let me teach you," Sana says, giving you a no-hands blowjob in front of her daughter. "Learn it, YoonA, I want you to take on that cock by yourself," Sana says as soon as she pops your cock out of her mouth.

You take turns fucking their throats and slap your cock in Sullyoon's face, letting both girls fight for your cock. Sana rubs your shaft all over her daughter's face while Sullyoon dives for your balls. "Come on, YoonA, you can do it," she says.

Sullyoon coughs all over your cock as Sana keeps telling her to keep her eyes open. You grab Sullyoon's pretty face and fuck it, the young girl struggling with your meat being much larger than her university colleagues. "She's still young, she's gonna be a great slut soon," Sana says.

"Follow your mother and lay on the couch," you tell Sullyoon as they get themselves lying upside down on the couch, their faces in prime position to get pounded. You tease both girls, taking turns between their mouths, before turning to Sullyoon, enjoying your cock bulge under her cheeks while Sana licks it.

"I think it's wet enough, turn around YoonA, and let me fuck your pussy," you tell Sullyoon as she follows your instructions. "Open your legs," you tell Sullyoon as you dive to eat her meaty pussy out while Sana sits on her face and starts squirting again over her daughter's body. Sullyoon eats Sana's pussy out, her mouths's lips perfectly interlocking with Sana's pussy lips.

"Look at her, getting my pussy wet so good, I think she's learning quite well," Sana says as you keep herself occupied with Sullyoon's pussy, pushing your head in the direction as you tongue all over her meaty clit. "Spread those lips for me," you tell Sullyoon, while Sana grinds her cunt in her daughter's mouth.

"Oh that feels so good," Sullyoon says as you two team up on her. Sana pushes harder, grinding her pussy all over her daughter's face. "AHHHHH," Sullyon suddenly screams as you shove your 9-inch cock back in her throbbing pussy without warning, Sana gets out of Sullyoon and lets her scream freely. "You're on your own, kid," she tells her daughter.

You drill Sullyoon's pussy hard, her moaning softly while Sana masturbates and goes back to squirting over her daughter. "Do you think she's learning how to take that big fat cock?" Sana asks you. "Yes, she's a good learner, just like her slutty mother," you answer, pushing harder into Sullyon's throbbing cunt.

"Spread it all over me, AHHHH, YEAHHH, THAT'S SO FUCKING HOT" Sullyoon begs as Sana gives her the biggest squirt shower yet. You keep pounding Sullyoon and instructing her. "Drink it, taste your mother's slutty juices," you command as you pick up the pace, grabbing Sullyoon's tits and enjoying her skin turn redder and redder the more you pound her.

Sana squirts all over Sullyoon's toned midriff, turning her daughter into a wet mess as your cock bulges under her fit belly. Sana goes back down, licking her juices from Sullyoon's belly and tasting your cock before you push it back inside her cunt. "Let me see that meaty cunt taking it all the way deep," she says. "AHHH, YEAH," Sullyoon moans up top.

You drill Sullyoon's pussy faster and faster, Sanna enjoying the bulge under her daughter's belly, licking the tip every time it pops under Sullyoon's navel. "Can you squirt like your mother?" you ask Sullyoon as Sana rubs her daughter's clit while you fuck her.

"I'll try, Daddy," Sullyoon answers you as her pussy starts getting wetter and wetter. "I LOVE HOW HARD YOU FUCK ME, DADDY," Sullyoon screams as you push harder and harder in her pussy. "Lick my ass, YoonA," Sana demands as she gets back to sit on her daughter's face, as Sullyoon obliges and puts her tongue deep in Sana's strawberry-flavored anus.

Sullyoon's legs tremble as you spread her long legs further and keep drilling her cunt nonstop. "Don't cum yet," Sana commands to her daughter, who tries to deal with it by pushing even harder into her mother's asshole.

But you have different plans. "Stay there," you tell Sullyoon, pulling out of her and fisting her cunt all of a sudden. "AHHHHH FUCKKKK," she suddenly screams, your massage in her cunt pushing her to the verge of orgasm. "Don't move YoonA, stay strong," you tell her. "FUCKKKK, DADDDY, I CAN'T TAKE IT YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, OH MY GOD" Sullyoon screams as she explodes in the most mind-blowing orgasm she has ever had in her life, her cheeks getting completely covered with juices.

"It smells so sweet," Sana says as she licks her daughter's squirt. "Just like her mother," you tell her. "You told her not to cum, should I punish your daughter for not following your instructions?" you ask Sana. "Well, she's all yours, do whatever you want to her," Sana answers.

You put Sullyoon on the top of the couch, putting her under a mating press just like you did to her mother. "Should I cum in her pussy just like I did to you?" you ask Sana. "Of course," she answers, letting you have total control over Sullyoon.

"Look at this nasty bitch," you say as Sana comes from behind to watch you fuck her daughter and starts rimming your asshole, making you push harder against Sullyoon's meaty cunt, your ass rubbing all over Sana's sexy face. "AHHH, YEAHHH," Sullyoon screams as you punish her, spanking her red face and choking her hard as her cunt keeps getting drilled.

The couch creaks with the intensity of your pounding, you are now in total control of Sullyoon's sexy young body, pushing it against the couch as your whole weight is on top of her. Sana doesn't give a shit about her daughter getting choked to the extreme, just staying entertained licking your asshole. "I'm gonna cum so hard for you, Daddy," Sullyoon says as she can barely breathe with your strong hands wrapped around her neck, her body getting pushed harder and harder as you fuck her at full speed now.

"Oh right there, right there, Daddy, PLEASE, PLEASE" Sullyoon begs as you ramp up the intensity. She's just your fucktoy now, the only thing you care about now is fucking her meaty young cunt until she can't walk, destroying her hot sexy body to the maximum like a horning raging bull. "OH YEAH, OH FUCK," it's your turn to scream as you can feel Sullyoon's walls tighten around your cock, her whole body trembling and her moaning out of breath as you feel it's now or never.

You empty your balls in Sullyoon's meaty cunt, but your cock gets hard again as soon as your cum finishes painting her walls. "Look what you made me do, you dirty slut, you made me cum inside you in front of your mother," you tell Sullyoon. "I didn't do anything Daddy, you wanted," she says.

You grab Sullyoon's neck once again, plowing her even harder than before the creampie. "Why did you have to be so hot? Why did you have to be such a dirty slut just like your mother?" you keep asking her, massacring her pussy and choking her almost to death.

"Spank on her face, spit on it, be a good mother and discipline your daughter," you tell Sana. "Are you ready to cum on his dick, YoonA?" Sana asks. "YES, MOM, I WANT TO CUM ALL OVER DADDY'S COCK," Sullyoon screams, her face completely red as you and Sana watch from above. Sana disciplines Sullyoon, hitting her daughter's body as she is ready to orgasm. "My daughter is such a dirty slut, I'm so proud of her," she says.

"FUCK, AH, AH, AH, AH," Sullyoon starts to scream. "Cum on his dick," Sana orders, spanking her daughter more. "You want more?" you ask Sullyoon as you feel her walls tightening again. "YES, DADDY, CUM IN MY PUSSY AGAIN," Sullyoon begs.

You spread Sullyoon's legs again and go back to drill her cunt hard. Sana spanks her daughter's feet as you too discipline Sullyoon with countless spankings. "You want more?" you keep asking Sullyoon as you choke and fuck her. "YES, DADDY," she emphatically answers every single time.

"USE ME, DADDY, USE ME PLEASE," Sullyoon begs as she can barely think straight. "Dirty fucking slut taking his filthy cock," Sana says of her daughter as her legs start shaking and you two cum at the same time. "THIS IS SO GOOD, THANK YOU, MOM, YOU'RE THE BEST, THANK YOU FOR TRAINING ME LIKE THIS," Sullyoon says as she's completely overwhelmed, that experience will make her never see sex in the same way she once did. All the nights with those fraternity bros at her university will look tame and vanilla now compared to Daddy's 9-inch thick cock.

You and Sana massage Sullyoon's meaty pussy, signaling you two aren't done torturing the young girl with pleasure. "I'M GONNA CUM SO HARD, FUCKKKK, YESS" she screams as your hands touch her cum-filled folds and her legs shake. "YoonA, your pussy is still so tight it can break my little hands," Sana says.

"Oh my God it's so intense," Sullyoon says as she cums again. But you aren't done with her. "Easy, please," she begs as you put your finger up her asshole and then feed it to Sana to taste. "You want to have an assgasm like your mother?" you ask Sullyoon. "Yes, Daddy, anything you want," she answers.

You massage Sullyoon's asshole as Sana watches and laughs. "Ohhhh it's so intense," she says. "Next time we meet I'm gonna fuck your ass and you will think twice to find this intense," you tell her as you make her taste her butthole. "That's it. "Yes, Daddy, fist my ass like I'm a fucking whore, a fucking slut, I love being used like this and treated like a whore," Sullyoon says.

"AHHHH I'M GONNA CUM AGAIN," Sullyoon screams as you manage to give her an anal orgasm. "Daddy, I never felt so good like today, thank you," she says as you two share passionate kisses, Sana watching on the side as you make love with her daughter after giving her the nastiest possible orgasm. "That's why I love him so much, YoonA, he's the only dude who can finger your asshole and then hug and kiss you a second after," Sana says.

"Cum in me again, Daddy, turn me into your cum dump," Sullyoon begs as Sana smiles watching her daughter begging for more. "She's turning into such a good slut," she says. "You like that, you dirty slut? The more you get, the more you want," you say, enraged as you spank Sullyoon's face and tying to find more cum in your balls to give to her.

Sana gives you more naughty stares, pleased with the way you fuck her daughter and happy her training was successful. You keep spanking Sullyoon's face. "You're getting on my nerves, slut," you tell her, choking Sullyoon. "Sorry, Daddy, I'm just a needy girl who wants cum," she says, her face completely red as Sana kisses her. "You're so beautiful taking all this cock," Sana tells her as you lift Sullyon's right leg and put both your feet in her face. "YES, PLEASE, PLEASE," Sullyoon begs as she gets used like a toy,"

"Here's the cum you wanted, bitch," you tell Sullyoon as Sana gets up, watching her daughter get filled up again as her body is completely under your control. "That's fucking amazing," Sullyoon says. "My daughter is such a beautiful slut," Sana says as Sullyoon collapses on the couch, exhausted as your drilling sucked all her energy. But you still have one other horny woman yet to be fully satisfied in the room, all sweaty and ready to be pounded once again even as your cock was so drained by Sullyoon you might be shooting blanks at this point.

But Sana is not like the other girls, she always has a move up her sleeve.

"YoonA, I know you're all dizzy over his cock, but I need to teach you one final move, it's called 'The Snake Enchanter,'" Sana says as she starts kissing you.

"Carry me, let's do it," Sana says as you grab her from the couch and start bouncing on your cock while you lift her. "Holy shit, my mother is insane," Sullyoon says as she watches the way Sana moves her hips, getting you hard once again as she does her signature riding moves. "You're gonna empty your balls in my pussy just like you did to my daughter," she tells you.

"AH, AH, AH, AH," Sana moans as she works on your cock. Sullyoon tries to be a good student just like in her university, watching her mother with her eyes wide open as you carry-fuck Sana all over your living room, getting close to the mirror. Sullyoon is exhausted but comes close to watching her mother bounce on your dick. "So fucking sexy," she says, looking from below as Sana's pussy moves up and down your shaft in a perfect rhythm.

You grab Sana's ass and spread her cheeks in front of Sullyoon, as her mother continues to moan every time she reaches the bottom of your cock, her hips grinding to perfection on your big fat cock. "Squirt on me," you beg Sana as you put her back on the ground, sitting on your chair and letting her finger her pussy right in your face. "Watch this, YoonA," she tells her daughter, covering your face with a geyser of juices.

Sana grabs your head and rubs her pussy in your face. "Yes, baby, worship my juicy pussy," she says as Sullyoon comes back to the scene and jerks your cock off. "Good girl, preparing this cock for your mother to sit on," Sana praises her.

"Sit on my dick," you tell Sana as Sullyoon keeps moving her hands around your cock, lining it up to her mother's entrance and watching her bounce on it. "Pay attention YoonA, this is how you milk a cock dry," Sana says, moving her hips in an insanely fast manner, grinding on your cock to perfection with very fast and strong bounces, her asshole wiking as she moves.

"OH MY GOD, PLEASE, CUM IN MY PUSSY, AHHHH," Sana begs, driving you insane, you grab her and start pushing upwards against her cunt. "OH MY GOD, FUCK," she screams, Sullyoon watches as your thrusts push her mother's body up in the air. "Holy fuck, he's gonna split my mom in half," she thinks.

"AH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Sana screams as you thrust so hard you nearly send her flying against the wall. As you pull out of her pussy, your cum oozes out of it and drops to the floor. "Taste it, YoonA," Sana tells her daughter, who crawls into the stains of semen on the ground and licks them to perfection. "From my pussy too," Sana commands as Sullyoon obliges.

The three of you are exhausted after nearly an hour and a half of rough fucking. "I can't wait to see you again, fucking sexy girls," you tell Sana and Sullyoon, giving them some kisses as they head back to their homes full of sweat and cum.

Sana and Sullyoon arrive home, taking a shower together. "What did you think of your training?" Sana asks her daughter. "It was amazing, mom, thank you again," Sullyoon answers. She's so tired that she goes straight to sleeping after finishing the shower, while Sana sends you some texts.

"My daughter really liked it," she says to you. "It was a pleasure," you text back.

On the following morning, Sana wakes up to her routine. As she heads towards Sullyoon's bedroom, she doesn't find her daughter in there. "YOONA, WHERE ARE YOU?" she screams as she searches all over the house before her motherly instincts kick in.

Sana drives to your house, opens the door, and gets shocked as she watches her daughter naked on all fours on the floor getting her ass fucked while her head gets stomped and she begs for more.

"YES, DADDY, PLEASE, FUCK MY ASS HARDER," Sullyoon screams before she sees her mother right beside her and gets shy as the fucking session comes to a halt.

"You really like your father's cock, don't you, YoonA?" Sana asks her daughter. "My, what?" Sullyoon asks, confused. "Your father," Sana answers. "Mom, you must be joking," she replies to Sana. "No, I'm not, I know it's hard to resist but you really need to contain the impulses of fucking your father," Sana answers.

"Are you really my father or is she joking?" Sullyoon asks you.

"Yes, YoonA, I am your father," you affirmatively answer, only to receive a very unexpected answer from your daughter.

"That's so hot."

[forlix]

𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞・b.c.

— incurable playboy turned doting boyfriend was a character development arc nobody saw coming for christopher bang, including (especially) his frat brothers.

words・2.8k pairing・frat president!chris x gn!reader genres・fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, college!au, fuckboy!chris, boys being boys, kissing, implied sex so mdni warnings・substance use, talk of past heartbreak

a/n・here is "nobody believes you're dating" w/chan, requested by none other than my @rachalixie for my 2k event !! anny, i hope u love this fic as much as i love u; thank you for allowing me to write something so self-indulgent <3

In the deafening throes of one of Phi Mu Alpha’s spring kickbacks, Minho finds Jeongin and Seungmin standing in motionless silence by the kitchen counter. Both boys are gaping at something with an intensity that dips egregiously into the realm of creepy. He moves to pour himself a shot.

“What the fuck are you people looking at?”

Seungmin prods a pointer finger in the relevant direction. It takes a few seconds of scanning the scene for Minho to find what he’s referring to. He digs a knuckle into his eye, instantly confused by what he’s seeing. Maybe the gaping is justified.

The windows and doors have all been thrown open to invite the balmy April weather into the foyer of the frathouse. There’s a large crowd of people huddled around a long, foldable table stationed before the stairs; Jaehyun clutches a ping-pong ball between his fingers, singular eye squinted shut as he takes aim. The number of remaining solo cups dwindles rapidly, as does the players’ sobriety.

Something—someone—is missing.

Not to say “beer pong virtuoso” was one of the reasons Chris was elected frat president, but you’d think the guy had a career path in basketball with how he’s given the entire Greek life community alcohol poisoning by courtesy of two or three plastic balls alone. Minho has never known him to miss a shot, let alone miss out on a game.

Today, however, the reigning champion is only spectating, seated above the ongoing match on one of the steps of the main staircase.

A beautiful stranger is sitting beside him, cheek pressed to his shoulder as you peer at the match through the bannister.

You say something inaudible. The laugh it earns from Chris is bright enough to pick up from a few streets down. He leans in to murmur something in return, and you slide your hand over his nape to pull his mouth onto yours, light blush crawling up and over your ears. The way Chris melts into you can only be described as familiar, his eyes slowly fluttering shut, finger hooking delicately beneath your chin, grin going lopsided as your lips part—

“That’s enough,” Minho hisses, tearing his eyes away with considerable effort. “Aren’t you ashamed? Just fucking ogling.”

Jeongin shakes his head, grinning. “It’s dinner and a show. We’d be idiots not to.”

By dinner, he must mean the gallon of chocolate milk he’s been drinking from for the last hour. He now holds out said gallon with the intent to cheers. Seungmin picks up the entire handle and does the same.

Minho sighs, clinks his glass against theirs, and they throw back their respective refreshments in unison.

“Anywho.” Jeongin swipes the back of his hand over his mouth before going on. “You guys know who that is?”

Minho resurfaces with a wince, relishing in the bitter aftermath, then motions for Seungmin to give the bottle back straightaway. He arrived to the function late and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be.

Seungmin obliges Minho only after another heady swig. “No clue. Probably just another fling, no?”

“Mmm,” Jeongin hums in assent. “It’s Chris we’re talking about, after all.”

"Agreed. Case closed.”

There’s an air of finality in Seungmin’s voice—but Minho isn’t so sure.

Perhaps because he has never noticed that Chris had dimples until now; or because you fold so naturally into Chris' side after your kiss ends, head nuzzling against the crook of his neck and hand seeking out his to hold in your lap; or, most likely, because Chris' eyes seem to return to you when he looks at you, as if his gaze drifting anywhere else is but a momentary departure from where it really belongs. As if he comes home every time you come into his line of vision.

Whatever the reason, the idea coalesces in Minho’s mind, even as inebriation begins to fall over his cognitive faculties like a curtain, that the boys have got it wrong.

Jeongin utters his name, jolting him out of his trance. There’s another shot lifted halfway to Minho’s lips that hasn’t budged in minutes. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Minho looks at Jeongin first, Seungmin next, then back at Chris and his stunning companion. He’s not inclined to answer the question in full, but he can in truth. A coy smile crosses his face.

“Threesome?”

Jeongin laughs hard enough to collapse onto the kitchen island. Seungmin drags a hand down his face. “Come on, man.”

In the corner of his eye, you’ve gone back to kissing again, slow and sweet and secretive. Chris' gentle hold on your jaw shields you from view but fails to hide his lovesick smile. Dimly, Minho thinks that maybe his friend has met his match.

Then, he takes four shots in rapid succession—and stops thinking altogether.

Christopher Bang’s love life is like a horror movie and romcom spliced together: a fiasco of a film to which his housemates have front row seats.

The frat’s upperclassmen live in sets of four-bed, two-bath suites comprising a small common space with a kitchen and a sitting area, sandwiched by bedrooms on either side. It is in that common space that Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung often see or hear Chris stumbling home after a night out, entangled with a different attractive stranger every time—so often, in fact, that they’ve come to believe that he’s deathly allergic to anything bigger than a one-and-done hookup.

They can’t judge. In part because they’d be throwing stones from glass houses, but also because the man’s penchant for empty physicality is far from unfounded. His past self gave pieces of his heart to the wrong people, contracted first-degree burns from the guileless warmth he sought out. Now, his version of “intimacy” is less a connotation of closeness than it is a self-contradiction, for it should be impossible for so much distance to remain between two people in a single bed.

Chris hasn’t vocalized any of this. Nor have his housemates discussed it with each other. The knowledge simply exists in the air between the four of them like something akin to taboo, dipping in and out of acknowledgement depending on the circumstance.

This might be the circumstance of all time.

At around 11:40 A.M. on a Saturday, three doors in the suite open at once. Hyunjin and Changbin aren’t coincidence—the latter is coercing the former to go to the gym again—but they lift their eyes to the opposite side of the living room, and the slice of milk bread dangling from Hyunjin’s lips very nearly takes a fatal fall. Changbin manages to snatch it up with an extended hand.

Chris has just emerged from his room as well. Your silhouette follows close behind, your mouth stretching into a yawn as you massage the sleep from your eyes. You’re sporting a mesh green sweater identical to one Chris owns. They find Chris' accessories more interesting than his clothes, though: two hickeys peeking out from beneath his jaw and the base of his neck.

Chris sees Hyunjin and Changbin right away, and his expression goes utterly blank, not unlike their faces as they watch you close his door meticulously. You turn around and gasp.

The four of you stare at each other for what feels like multiple business days. At least, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chris stare at each other; your eyes dart between the men on the other side of the room and the man next to you, silently pleading for him to say something. He does not for a long while.

Then, he lunges for one of the throw pillows on the couch and flings it at Hyunjin like a shot put. It ricochets off his chest and lands on the floor rather anticlimactically.

“Distraction!” Chris yells anyways, grabbing your hand and tearing towards the exit, wild grin on his face. “Go, go, go!”

Your raucous laughter lingers even after you’ve been hauled away, accompanied by an unintelligible, breathless shout of something along the lines of my toothbrush—and then the front door clicks shut, and there are two.

Changbin and Hyunjin lock eyes, struggling to process what just happened. Hyunjin is the first to move, wandering hesitantly into the bathroom that Chris and Jisung share. Nothing about the place looks out of the ordinary.

“Well, shit,” Hyunjin says out loud.

That is, aside from the two toothbrushes slotted in the holder on Chris' side of the counter.

Something moves in the bathroom window, catching his attention. Hyunjin looks over just in time to spot you and Chris dart out onto the lawn two floors below. Chris has his arm draped over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist. Your smile is discernible all the way from here, and Hyunjin sees a perfect mirror of it on his friend’s face when Chris glances at the frathouse over his shoulder. 

Has he always had dimples?

Moments later, Changbin joins him in peering out the window. A high-pitched cackle erupts from the older boy’s lips. “Look at that idiot.”

Standing off to the left is a tiny, astonished Han Jisung, his arms full of groceries, jaw sitting squarely the grass and whites of his eyes on full display as he watches you and Chris stroll away.

Hyunjin laughs with his whole fucking body. Changbin whips out his phone and takes a picture.

When you finally breach the topic, it’s because you don’t think you can physically study for another minute—but also because, after multiple long months of fruitless sparring, your curiosity finally wins.

Your boyfriend is seated in your desk chair, feet kicked up onto your mattress with his laptop propped up on his thighs. His features have rearranged themselves into an expression of intense focus as he pores over his production homework. You can hear music blaring through his headphones from all the way here.

You uncross your legs from below you, scootch across your bed, and lift your hands to cradle his cheeks. He startles as if coming out of a trance, then begins to smile when he reads the words hi, Channie off your lips.

His headphones fall around his neck. He sets his laptop down onto your desk with a dull thunk. The next thing to drop is you when Chris seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the mattress. The somber atmosphere of your study session is shattered by your muted laughter and Chris pressing his lips to every inch of your exposed skin he can. He saves your mouth for last.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answers, but only after kissing the living daylights out of you, the syllables soft and silky with adoration. “Missed me?”

You drag your eyes from his brown irises with blown pupils to his sloping nose, from his disheveled dark locks to his cordate lips, so plush and warm against your own that you swear you still feel them there. You brush a hand over the back of his neck, your head now spinning so badly that you barely remember what you wanted to ask him.

“Always,” you say. “I was starting to feel jealous of your homework.”

He chuckles. “Shit, I’ll drop out of college right now, baby. Just say the word.”

“You’re perfect,” you hum.

“Says you,” he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

Your lips find each other’s again—needless to say, your study sessions aren’t known for their productivity. Some time passes before you come up for air. Even afterwards, Chris doesn’t let you go far, pulling you into his chest by the curve of your waist, nuzzling his cheek into your hairline. You only need to whisper for him to hear your question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“'Course,” he returns, and you’re close enough to sense him tighten with apprehension. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” You print a kiss to the side of his neck for extra reassurance. “It’s just…I’ve been meaning to ask how your friends feel about me.”

He tightens with something else now: surprise, you’re guessing; you’re hoping. You hadn’t seriously considered that the answer could be negative, but it’s dawning on you now that the possibility of that isn’t zero.

“Where’s this coming from?” Chris inquires, his tone opaque.

You hesitate, mentally reviewing your interactions with your boyfriend’s social circle. Hyunjin and Jisung can’t make eye contact with you when they speak to you. Minho does nothing but make eye contact with you whether he’s speaking to you or not. Jeongin and Seungmin can maintain small talk for about ten seconds before they start looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. Changbin is the only one you’ve held a conversation with, and only because you were going up the same stairs at the same time and the alternative would have been mind-numbing silence.

What is the best way for you to say this?

“Well,” you begin, “I can’t help but notice that they act a little—when I’m around, they’re a bit, uh—”

“—crazy,” Chris offers. “Completely fucking bat-shit crazy.”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Chris threads a hand through your hair, the comforting gesture doing nothing to assuage your worry. It seems there’s some truth behind your impressions. Your next words are tinged with a quiet sadness.

“I’m not imagining things, then?”

“No, angel,” he sighs. “But not for the reasons you think.”

A beat passes. Chris perceives your silence as a chance to backtrack, to opt out of this conversation if it’s one he’s not ready for. He would’ve leapt at the opportunity once.

But he realizes in that moment, with your voice gentle against his ears and your touch so doting upon his skin, how much has changed since he met you: from the color of the sky to the word home and everything in between, including his cynicism towards love and all the iterations of forever it holds. 

With that epiphany comes another, then another: he wants you to know why his friends are acting insane, wants you to know about him and his past and all the wounds of his you never know you healed, wants you to spend the rest of this forever with him.

His pointer finger dusts beneath your chin, a wordless request for you to look at him, and he nearly liquifies when you do and he finds entire constellations in your eyes. 

“It’s a lot,” he mumbles, though he suspects you know that already; he suspects you know about the other stuff, too. 

You bring your hand to the side of his face, bring your forehead to rest upon his. Your closeness washes over him like a low summer tide lapping over sandy shores, a soothing balm spreading over scorched flesh. 

“It’s you,” you breathe. “I will love it just the same.”

Chris' held breath comes out in shudders.

So this is warmth.

Minho and Felix are watching anime on the couch when a knock comes at their door, unfortunately during a pivotal moment of a pivotal episode. 

Minho hits pause with a ghastly groan. Felix laughs and rises to his feet, dashing into his room to grab the two silver necklaces he’ll be loaning out for the evening. “Coming!”

Outside, Chris is standing alone, hips and thighs accentuated by a pair of tight-fitting dress pants, sculpted chest and collarbones framed by a thin, cream-colored shirt with the top three buttons undone. Most of his hair has been pushed off his forehead, leaving a few locks free to fall over his right eyebrow. He’s rolling up his sleeves when Felix opens the door, veined forearms flexing as a result of the effort.

“Well?” He asks. Minho cranes his neck to look past Felix.

Both boys start to holler and whistle like excited macaques.

“What in the Calvin Klein is this?” Felix shouts, spinning Chris around by the shoulders. “You look insane, bro. Holy fuck.”

“What’s the occasion, young man?” Minho inadvertently sounds like a gruff uncle. “Where are you going dressed like that, huh?”

Chris' laugh comes easier nowadays. What’s more, it comes in a way that reaches the rest of him, that ends in a tiny, high squeak that you really have to look for in order to hear.

Felix and Minho can't help but replicate his smile. Those clothes look good on him, yes—but happiness looks better.

“You guys are silly,” Chris giggles. Dimples indent his cheeks as he accepts the necklaces from Felix. “Thanks, man. I’ll give ‘em back tomorrow.”

“No rush,” Felix replies, grinning. “Have fun, yeah?”

“We will.” Chris starts to retreat down the hallway, hands moving to clasp the jewelry around his neck, but not before he blows the both of them a kiss.

“Be back before ten!” Minho hollers; Chris laughs again, turns a corner, and disappears.

Felix closes the door. His smile falters fast. Minho has brought his face mere centimeters away, his expression thoroughly humorless.

“Tell me only the truth, Lee Yongbok,” he deadpans.

“O-okay—”

“Is Chris in a relationship?”

“—oh.” Felix frowns. “Well, yeah.”

Minho blanches. “How—how long?”

“One year, give or take? Anniversary’s today.”

Minho is stunned. Felix is stunned that Minho is stunned.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡