#it's amazing how much dancing you can do while sitting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovemybluebully · 2 days ago

Text

Was That A Snort?

Written specially for @whiskeyandcigarsmoke Thank you for supporting my writing! 😭 I always feel slightly awkward when anyone who is not in the t-community reads my stuff because most probably think I'm a fucking weirdo for centering all my fics around tickling, but I appreciate your open-mindedness and ability to see the cute aspect of it all. 🥰

Some snorty, ticklish Logan for your viewing pleasure!

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

Word Count: 6,504 (Sorry it came out kinda long. 😬)

Wade yawned as he wandered into the kitchen one morning in his bathrobe to put on a pot of coffee, cursing as he remembered on his way in that they had run out the day before. Much to his surprise the smell of fresh coffee hit his nostrils as he found that there was a pot already freshly brewed on the countertop.

An explanation of how that came to be was revealed when a rustle of paper to the side drew his attention as he turned to find Logan sitting at the small kitchen table and quietly reading the newspaper. He was already fully dressed and looked like he had been up for a while.

"Well someone's an early riser today. Thanks for handling the coffee situation," Wade toasted him with a mug he had grabbed from the shelf in one of the cupboards before filling it from the bubbling hot pot.

"Couldn't find any here this morning so I went to the store and picked some up. Grabbed some donuts while I was out too. Help yourself," Logan nodded to the pink carboard box on the table without even looking up from his paper.

"Yess! Did you happen to get any of the cream-filled ones?" Wade asked hopefully, sitting at the table next to him as Logan reached over and flipped the box open for him.

"Yeah, there should be a couple in there somewhere. Also got some of those ones with the kiddie cereal on top that I know ya like."

Wade squealed in excitement as he plucked a donut covered in Lucky Charms from the box, moaning over-excessively as he took a large bite.

"Mmmm! Oh God, mmm MM! That's a literal flavor-filled orgasm in my mouth. You're an absolute angel," Wade carried on as Logan huffed through his nose with a small smile.

"I don't appreciate the slander, Wilson. And I was kinda enjoying the peace and quiet so would ya mind keepin' it down a little?"

Wade nodded and replied between chews.

"Yup. I can do that. Mmm hmm. Not a peep from me. Won't even know I'm here," he then began loudly sucking the melted icing off of his fingers before looking up to find Logan giving him a hard stare, "I'm sorry, would you like some?"

Wade offered him his hand as Logan grimaced in disgust and leaned away from him, trying to get back to reading.

"All yours, bub. Couldn't pay me to suck on those fingers."

"Are you implying that I could pay you to suck on something else? Because if that's true then have I got the proposition for you," Wade suggestively spoke in a lower tone, pleased to see he'd managed to get under Logan's skin as he promptly threw down his newspaper with a groan

"Can't you ever just be fucking normal for one day?"

"Let me see.....uhhh nope. I'm afraid there's no changing me. And you, my friend, are lucky to have a front row seat to the amazing world of Wade," he placed a hand on Logan's knee and teasingly danced his fingers up his inner thigh before being slapped away.

"My eternal punishment you mean. If God himself were to take pity on me and strike me down today it still wouldn't have been soon enough," Logan shook his head as he folded up the newspaper to put aside while Wade narrowed his eyes in response to his last comment.

"Say sike right now," he pointed a demanding finger at the other man who only tilted his head in slight confusion.

"What's that mean?"

"It means take it back, you insolent pig!"

"What? Did I actually hit a nerve?" Logan smirked, taking a bite of the old-fashioned donut he'd just selected from the box.

"I'm gonna have to plead the fifth. That's gross by the way," Wade cringed a little at how Logan dunked his donut into his coffee before biting into it, "But in theory if I were to say that you did, would you apologize?"

"Not even on my theoretical death bed, dipshit," Logan flipped Wade his middle finger as he ate the last bite of his donut.

Wade knew he was just playing his game with him, but that didn't mean he couldn't consider options for reprisal.

"Always such a charmer. Well in that case how about if I make you take it back, stud?"

Logan scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Pffft, good one. How the fuck do ya think you're gonna do that?"

"I have my ways. I'm a highly trained mercenary you know and believe it or not I have a plethora of all kinds of torture methods stored inside my pea-sized brain," Wade smiled innocently as Logan just nodded, never one to take anything the man said completely serious.

"Sure, bub. I'm warning ya though, you give me another wet willy and I'm throwing your ass out that window over there," he gestured over his shoulder to the window on the far wall where a three-story drop would await the prankster.

"Dually noted. Do not worry your Canadian cojones about it though, I have no doubt the inspiration will come to me," Wade tapped the side of his head.

"Well don't exhaust your last brain cell tryin' to figure it out," Logan slapped him on the back as he got up from his chair and walked to the counter to refill his coffee, "I've got over 200 years of experience under my belt, and I've been conditioned to resist any kinda torture you can possibly think of."

"Anything, huh?" Wade pondered aloud, observing the man who had his back to him as he filled up his mug and fiddled with the sugar packets at the counter.

He knew Logan spoke with truth as the X-man became a storyteller when drunk and described many instances where he'd been made to suffer by enemies. Everything from as minor as being burnt with lit cigarettes all the way up to more grotesque things like being vivisected while fully conscious. Not to mention the excruciating adamantium process that he had barely survived.

Like Wade, Logan's pain threshold was off the charts and the man really could take a lot of physical abuse. Of course, Wade wasn't compelled to hurt him that badly, or even at all. He really only wanted to get a good response from him that would serve as lighthearted payback.

He just had the urge to put hands on him, though Logan had already warned him against the wet willies, and messing with his hair was also a call for trouble. He'd risk his prestigious reputation for being eccentric if he didn't think of something quick.

"Awful quiet back there, Wade. Shit, must be too late. Not one intelligible thought left in that head of yours, huh? Halle-fuckin'-lujah, I thought this day would never come."

He could practically hear the arrogant smirk on Logan's face and before Wade knew it, he was instinctively out of his seat and silently approaching behind Logan who was preoccupied with trying to clean up the sugar he'd spilled onto the counter space.

"Such a damn shame. Guess we won't be calling you 'The Merc With the Mouth' anymore. You can be the 'The Merc Who Finally Shut His Annoying Fucking-'.....!!!" His words were cut off by a gasp when he felt fingers digging into his ribcage from behind as his legs nearly buckled from the sensations.

His arms snapped down against his sides while he writhed for a few seconds against the counter before an unfortunate laugh made it out from his lips. He immediately bit it back as he finally managed to turn around and shove the attacking merc several feet away.

Logan's brows drew together as he just gaped incredulously at his daring roommate.

"The fuck are you doing?!"

Wade was grinning like a predator that had just cornered its prey; his mind racing in overdrive at having detected an actual weakness of the gruff Wolverine, who now had complete alarm plastered all over his face.

"Hmm, looks like I'm the one now who has struck a nerve. A ticklish nerve by the looks of it," Wade rubbed his hands together menacingly, growing more excited by the moment as Logan's eyes widened in unmitigated panic.

"What?! Tickling?! That's ridiculous! You just....surprised me is all!" He stammered out very unconvincingly while Wade delighted in watching him figuratively squirm.

"Funny, I've never seen literally anyone have that reaction to being surprised. But okay, let me try what I just did one more time except now you won't be surprised by it, right? Coming in hot...," Wade had his hands raised into clawed form with fingers wiggling as he started to lunge for the other man, but Logan instantly put his own hands up in defense to halt him.

"Alright Wade, alright. Fuck. You win. I'm a little ticklish. But Wade c'mon, this is asinine. I'm a grown man. You can't just fucking tickle me," Logan tried to reason with him even though he knew it was all for nothing, receiving that confirmation by the way that Wade laughed at him.

"Oh yes I fucking can. There's no age limit for tickling, even for a geezer like you. Besides if there was then people would grow out of it and stop being ticklish, but guess what? Most don't. Which means anyone who hasn't is still fair game, and that includes you, sugar tits. I'll leave it up to you though. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," Wade began cracking his knuckles for effect as Logan desperately tried to figure a way out of this.

"I swear if you even lay a finger on me.....," Logan cautioned with a deep growl as he swelled up his oversized muscles, this attempt at intimidation normally succeeding in making any sane man back down. But unfortunately for him, Wade wasn't a sane man, along with the fact that Logan hadn't released his claws which Wade had learned to perceive as a full-on green light.

"Is that your way of saying you're picking the hard way? Because you know I'm quite partial to things being hard myse-AAaggh! You dirty skank!!" Wade yelped as Logan had thrown the hot coffee he'd been holding into the merc's face and roughly shoved past him.

Naturally Wade recovered quickly as he tore after his roommate, even more amped than before to make him pay.

"Awww come back Wolviiiiie! I just want to talk!"

"Just fuck off! If you even try, I'll cut your damn head off" Logan shouted in trepidation, picking up a crudely put together Ikea end table and launching it at Wade with the merc easily dodging it as it smashed against the wall.

"It will be all worth it, babygirl. I couldn't think of a more desirable death if I tried," Wade grinned and in his pursuit his robe had come undone, revealing that he was wearing nothing but his My Little Pony boxers underneath as Logan grimaced once he noticed.

"Are you kidding me?! Gross! Do not fuckin' come near me dressed like that! You hear me?!" Logan warned him, jumping over the couch to escape with Wade hot on his tail.

"What in the shit is going on out here?!" Althea yelled as she opened the bedroom door to walk out into the living room where the chaos was ongoing, "Stupid sons of bitches can't even let an old woman sleep-in just one motherfucking day?"

As they ran past her, Wade tripped and fell to the floor before scrambling back to his feet to continue the chase.

"Sorry Al! But I've got me a Wolverine to tickle the crap out of!"

"I should've never given you caffeine and sugar this early in the morning!" Logan cursed as he circled back around, looking for cover and running to stand behind the smaller, elderly woman.

"Althea! Call him off!" He pleaded while he used her temporarily as a shield between him and Wade for a few short-lived moments before he had to abandon her and make another break for it.

"Wade Wilson you stop picking on that poor boy!" She yelled after them as Wade only scoffed in amusement.

"Ha! Boy?! He's more ancient than your old ass!"

Althea just sighed loudly with a shake of her head as she turned to start shuffling back into her room.

"Well....time to turn down the old hearing aids," she muttered as she fiddled with the devices in her ears, "You two assholes break anything else in this apartment and you're going to have to deal with me!"

Logan paused as he saw she was abandoning him to his fate with the ADHD-riddled man and called after her.

"AL WAIT!! Let me come with you!" But the door slammed shut behind her without another word.

Unfortunately, his lack of attention to his would-be assailant proved costly as Wade was now able to make his move and easily tackled Logan to the floor. He quickly mounted him to sit on his legs in order to keep them out of the way.

"For the record, you can cum with me anytime you want. But let's save the fantasies for later, you naughty boy. Now time to get to the point of why these readers are all here," Wade teased as Logan fought and pushed against him, trying to hold him back.

"Wade get the fuck off me! You're practically naked for fucks sake!" He grimaced when he felt something hard press against his leg, "GOD that had better be a gun in your underwear!"

Wade glanced down at his lack of attire, reaching casually inside his boxer shorts and pulling out one of his golden Desert Eagles.

"Of course it is, silly! Always gotta be prepared for anything, you know. Not particularly needed in this situation though," he tossed it over his shoulder as he continued to struggle with his friend, who grabbed a hold of his arms to keep him at bay.

"Dammit, Wade! This is-Grrrrr! Get your hands offa me!"

"But I haven't touched you yet. You're the one putting your hands on me. So if you insist on being accurate...," Wade slipped an arm free as his hand dove straight for Logan's side to begin viciously squeezing his lower ribs, making the man jerk under him as he ground his teeth together.

"Don't! Rrrrrrgh-Stop!"

"Don't stop, you say? I hadn't planned too, but glad we're on the same page here!"

Logan's grip started to weaken its hold on Wade's other arm with him now being able to easily pull free as his fingers buried themselves into the opposite side. Logan grunted and attempted to hold in all the sounds threatening to come out as he writhed and tried to push Wade off of him.

"I didn't mean thahat! Ahaha! Waitwait! D-Don't do this to mehehehee!"

He was quickly starting to lose the battle as the giggles began to overwhelm him and a wide smile stretched itself across his face. Wade could smell the blood in the water at this point and wasn't letting up for nothing, dying to see exactly how far he'd be able to run with this.

"How come? I'm gonna need a pretty good fucking reason. Is it because you're actually a lot more ticklish than you claimed? And if that's true then that means...," Wade gasped dramatically, "....you LIED to me?!"

He roughly massaged his thumbs on the sensitive sides of his waist as Logan broke into convulsions and finally bellowed out in thunderous laughter.

"Hahahaha! No!! No no stahahahahaap! Thahahaat tickles!" His head thrashed around as he laughed and bucked in response to the merciless tickles vibrating into his sides. He futilely tried to curl up with his arms, but with Wade sitting on his legs it still left him plenty exposed.

"Duh! It's supposed to, genius! Besides you asked for this Mr. 'I-can-resist-any-torture-you-can-think-of'. Not so confident about that now, are you?" Wade grinned big time as his fingers worked their way back up his victim's ribs, making Logan's arms clamp down uselessly while his body jerked from side to side.

"It's cheheeheeheeatin'! Hehehehehaahaa! T-Ticklin' ain't fahahahaair, you ahahahasshole!"

He was slowly coming around since moving into the apartment, so it was still pretty rare to see Logan laugh this much, but Wade absolutely loved when he did. His whole reserved appearance, including his posture, completely transformed, and it was his entire face that lit up and displayed his smile.

Wade wasn't too keen to let that slip through his fingers any time soon.

"Meh, fair is subjective. Besides I was only like 33.726894% sure that this would even work on you. I've never been a gambling man, but I'm sure glad I took a chance on this because good Lord, you literally have the cutest laugh! Now perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me, where's your most ticklish spot?!"

Logan had not been tickled in a very, very long time and had completely forgotten what it had felt like. Actually, he had forgotten what a lot of non-violent physical contact felt like until he had met Wade Wilson, who was way more affectionate towards him than what he'd been used to over the past several years.

That uncertainty about what it felt like to be tickled initially had him concerned about Wade's prospective threat to do so, but at the present time he now realized that it wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be.

The heightened senses derived from his mutation had resulted in him being incredibly ticklish, and while he had thought it to be a nuisance in his earlier days, he was able to see the benefit of it helping to bond with those he had found himself close to. The other X-men in particular were big time offenders once they found out.

He was never one to laugh freely or even smile all that much, so his teammates were happy to find such a simple way to get that all out of him. And it always felt nice for the laughter to release some of the tension he carried around with him no matter how much he might resist it at first.

It had mainly been his sardonic attitude or defiance that would land him in trouble with the other X-men, and he remembered how he used to egg on and taunt whoever on his team got up the nerve to really tickle him like this.

Only after they were gone had he finally accepted the fact that the X-men were his family and the feelings from those happier times all started to come back to him now. Along with the guilt of having taken all of that for granted.

With Wade currently tickling him he found it was actually a comforting feeling to relive those fleeting moments that he'd had with his old team. And even though it was such a torturous assault on his hyper nerves it didn't really bother him as much as he might have tried to make it seem.

And he wasn't going to let Wade totally dominate the situation as he didn't hesitate to play the tenacious victim.

"Fuhuhuhuck yoooou! Gaahahahahaa! I-heeheehee-wohohon't talk!" Logan spewed out between cackles as a particularly sensitive spot was being probed on his upper ribs just below his armpits.

Wade reeled back a little, feeling more than surprised by his response. He'd thought by this point that Logan would be saying anything to get himself out of this, but it filled him with unrivaled glee to see that he was going to make this a lot more fun than he had originally thought.

"Woah, what the shit is this?! So the Wolverine isn't just going to roll over and take it? Whoooeee! I love it! So not gonna talk, are you? You know I was considering mercy a moment ago, but I don't think you really deserve it. Not to mention you said mean things to me and burnt my beautiful face with that coffee! My modeling career is over before it even started!"

"And-Ahahahand I'd doohooo it agahahahain, fuhuhucker!"

"Holy shit, you cocky little bitch. I guess you really don't want me to stop, huh?"

"I-I do! Hahaahaahaahah! Juhuhust fuhuhuhuck you is ahahahahall! Now gehehet offa meheheheeh!" He kicked his legs about restlessly underneath Wade as he tried to wriggle free.

"Hold your perfect titties there, mister. I still want to know where you're the most ticklish, for future reference. So where is it? Is it....HERE?" Wade stuffed his hands up into Logan's armpits where his fingers spidered around like crazy, making Logan throw his head back and let out a high-pitched squeal of a laugh.

"Aaaheeheeheehee! Th-thaahaat ain't ihihihit! Ohohohahahahahahaa! Buhuhut still...," he paused to wheeze for air, laughing in silence for a few moments while knocking his head back against the floor, "Geh-Gehehet the fuhuhuck outta thehehehere!"

Logan thrashed like a beached fish, trying to squeeze the tormenting fingers out from under his arms but Wade only burrowed in deeper to guarantee the torture would not relent.

"No can do, compadre! I'm gonna find your worst spot if I have to tickle you all day! Don't think that I won't!"

Knowing that really Wade could locate the hot spot at any given moment with how accessible it was Logan decided to swallow his pride and tried to bargain with him.

"If I t-tehehell you-aahahhaha wihihill ya stohahahahop?!"

He was optimistic, but Wade shut that shit down immediately.

"Um NO! Actually, FUCK NO! Once you tell me I'm going to tickle the absolute shit out of you there! So I'm letting you know right now that once I figure it out then you are in big trouble!" He emphasized his last word with a firm jab to Logan's stomach, eliciting a startled squeal from the man beneath him.

Wade instantly stopped tickling him as they locked in eye contact, watching as Logan's pupils quickly began to dilate in panic within his hazel eyes.

"You've got to be shitting me.....Is it really that obvious? You're telling me that this exquisite cobblestone pathway carved into your body is not only the sexiest, but it's also the most sensitive of all?" He smiled unnervingly as he very gently trailed his fingers down Logan's belly, making him twitch violently under him from that action alone.

"Eeheehee-Easy Wade.....Lets b-be reasonable here..."

Logan knew he had to act fast to get out of this. He could hold up against being tickled anywhere else, but an attack on his stomach pretty much guaranteed his downfall.

While Wade was momentarily distracted by the marvel of his discovery Logan took the opportunity to buck his hips as hard as he could to throw the mercenary off of him.

"HEY!" Wade hit the floor before immediately looking up to see Logan attempting to make his escape, "Oh no you don't, you sneaky bastard! I'm not through with you yet!"

Logan tried to scramble away on all fours to get some distance between him and Wade, but the other man was quick to grab his ankle as he dragged him back over with Logan shaking his head and pleading for lenience.

"No no no! For fucks sake! Wade please! Dohohon't you dare!" He was giggling already in anticipation as Wade pulled him close and then crawled on top to pin him again, grinning at the subdued state he was in.

Wade thought back to all the times he had fawned over his often-shirtless friend and made countless attempts to feel up his very pronounced abdominal muscles only to receive a harsh punch along with a threat to keep his hands to himself. But he now realized it wasn't because Logan was being stingy and not wanting to be touched in general, it was because he was trying to hide the fact that his stomach was so unbearably ticklish.

"I've never seen you so giggly like this Logan. It's positively adorable. But tell you what, I'll give you a chance to save yourself if you apologize for being such an ass to me this morning. And I want to hear some sincerity in there or else your tummy is going to get it," Wade waved his fingers in Logan's face as the feral nodded without hesitation.

"Okay okay fine, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I referred to you as an eternal punishment. And that I implied you had no rational thought whatsoever in your head."

"And.....?" Wade lightly rested his fingers onto Logan's stomach as a threat, pleased to see how it made him dissolve into giggles again.

"Aahaahaand I'm s-sorry I buhuhurned your face-Aaahee!" he yelped as the fingers dug in ever so slightly.

"My beautiful face!" Wade corrected with a smirk of victory.

"Okaahaay! Your beautiful faahaace with the coffeeheeheehee," Logan sputtered out the best that he could, grateful when Wade lifted his hand away from the hyper ticklish zone.

"Well thanks for that, pal. See? That wasn't so difficult, was it? I knew deep down you had a little humility in there," Wade tweaked his sideburn and tickled down his neck as Logan wiggled his head away from the touch before meeting his gaze with a defiant twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh yeah, one more thing I oughta mention. I'm also sorry that you are without a doubt, one hundred percent the most annoying, blabbering, dimwitted, lousy excuse for a comedian to ever exist. And I'm sorry I lied about being sorry for everything because the truth is I will never, ever be truly sorRYEEHeeHEeehEEhEE!!"

Logan had tried to prep himself but still couldn't stop from breaking into wild, squealing laughter once Wade's hands descended upon his stomach with lightning speed; his fingers scribbling like crazy all over the hidden muscles beneath his thin t-shirt. Wade just beamed down at him, not taking anything that was said to heart and so glad that Logan had given him the excuse to carry on.

"Whelp. I guess this is how it all ends for you. Tickled to death isn't exactly how most people would have expected the legendary Wolverine to go, but I'll make sure to sing the story of your menial demise," he wasn't holding back since Logan had practically asked for this as he mercilessly tickled the helplessly squirming man beneath him.

"Ihihihihit wahahas wo-wohohohorth ihihihit! Aaahahahafuhuhuhuhuck! Nohohot thehehere! Stahahahahahap-Snnnrk!" Logan's face was already bright red from his ears down to his neck as he laughed uncontrollably with that last sound that came out of him immediately catching Wade's attention.

"What in the-? What the fuck was that?" A quirky smile began to spread over Wade's face as he haphazardly dug his fingers into Logan's abs, eager to duplicate what had just occurred., "Was that a snort?"

Wade already had him in tears as Logan adamantly shook his head, instantly being disproven as another snort rang out of his scrunched-up nose.

"Snnrk! N-No! Yohohohou're hehehehehearin' thihihihings!"

Wade had heard Logan snort before. Many times, as a matter of fact, but he always thought it was something that Logan forced to emphasize his aversion to whatever Wade was currently talking about. Wade was positively enamored to know now that it was all just part of his genuine laugh.

"Are you sure about that? Are you sure you're not just a cute little giggly, snorty Wolverine? Because I think that's exactly what you are."

"Shuhuhut uhuhuhup! Ya-Snnnrk-dihihihick!" Logan felt his face flush even more with Wade teasing him in such a childish manner, too weakened by his laughter to be able to push the hyper man's hands away from his body.

As his fingers rippled into the solid tummy Wade grew more and more amused by this whole situation. He would have never been able to picture Logan in this helpless of a state if he hadn't seen it for himself and when you added in his constant snorting between his laughs it just pushed everything straight into a fantasy realm.

But it was all happening for real. And the more Logan snorted, the more Wade himself began to laugh.

"Wh-Whahat's the matter? Hehehe, the all-mighty anchor-being can be destrohohoyed by mere tickles? Oh, this universe is f-fuhuucked now," Wade giggled, trying to keep his focus and observing how Logan's t-shirt had slid up his stomach a bit. He pushed it up even further so now his hands were scratching at hairy, bare skin as Logan screamed and thrashed helplessly underneath him.

"Naaahahahahahaha! I-I nehehehever-Snnnrk-ahahahasked for-Snnrk-the johohohob! Snnnnrk!" Logan was losing control and unable to stop the snorting now as he would desperately try to get a breath in through his chaotic laughter.

"Are-Are yoohoou just gohohoing to keep doing thahaat?! Snorting lihihike a little pihihiggy?!" Wade was starting to lose it himself.

"Snnnrk! Kihihiss my ahaahaahaass-Snnnnrk!!"

"I'd love too-heeheeheh! Ohohor I could dohoo THIS!" Wade's hands slid down as he targeted the ever so tempting V-line muscles on the Wolverine's lower belly and once he dug into the highly ticklish flesh Logan just about lost his mind in hysterics.

"BAAHAHAHAHAHAHANOOONO! SNNNRK! OKAAHAAHAAY! YA WIHIHIHIN! AAAHAHAHAAH-SNNNNRK! MEHEHEHRCY! I'M-SNNRK-I'M SOHOHOHORRY!" Logan squealed and snorted as he regained a burst of energy and jolted around violently like he was being shocked with a cattle prod.

It had proven all too much for Wade to stay composed as he broke into uncontrollable laughter, unable to keep tickling Logan any longer as he sat back and just got lost in his own laughing fit.

Logan lay under him, now motionless and wheezing as he gasped to take in some big breaths to refill his depleted lungs. When he finally came to his senses, he found Wade was still laughing hysterically, prompting Logan to roll his eyes and shove the merc off of him so he could sit up.

Wade hardly seemed to notice as he fell to the floor, holding his sides while tears ran down his cheeks.

"What?" Logan stared over at him with a brow raised in confused annoyance.

"Th-The snohohohorts! Haahahahahah! Oh fuhuhuhuck, the snohohohohohorts!" Wade struggled to spit out as Logan now began to frown once he realized that Wade was laughing at him.

"It's not that funny, asshole," he growled, starting to feel insecure and regretting that he'd let his guard down so much. With no end to Wade's laughter in sight Logan went to stand up but was stopped as Wade leapt forward to grab onto him as he finally got under control to speak again.

"I'm-I'm sorry I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you embarrassed! Sometimes my brain just processes my emotions in ways I can't control so please don't take it the wrong way. I just got so happy and excited when I saw that snorting is part of your natural laugh. I LOVE it!"

"You're not just saying that shit?" Logan asked, still feeling unsure, though Wade looked absolutely horrified that he had even asked that.

"NO, I'm not just saying that! I'm sorry I'm an idiot and made you self-conscious about it. It's literally the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen! You believe me, right?" He looked hopefully at the other man who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure. Whatever."

Logan did in fact believe him. Wade was usually pretty upfront when talking about things like this so he had no real reason to think that he was simply trying to spare his feelings.

Wade however, took his short, blunt answer as rejection as he wailed and threw his arms around Logan's waist to cling to him tightly.

"Noooo don't shut down on me! Please forgive me, Peanut! Pleeeeeease!"

Logan sighed heavily at how overdramatic Wade could be.

"Calm down, will ya? When I said 'whatever' I meant it's okay. You're fine. Now get off and stop groveling," he pried Wade's arms from around him as the merc then flopped onto his stomach, resting his chin on his hands and kicking his feet in the air.

"I'm not kidding, I could listen to your laughing snorts all day and it would never get old," he stared up at his roommate adoringly, "Sorry if I went a little overboard on you though."

"You call that a little overboard?" Logan's eyebrow crawled up his forehead as Wade's mouth dropped at the implication that he was responsible for everything.

"Hey, wait a fucking minute here, don't put this all on me. You were asking for it with all that shit you were talking, which was....well, surprising. I'd assumed you never got tickled much in your life, but you seemed pretty familiar with it," he sat up and finally retied his robe closed around him.

Logan smiled slightly as he started to wander inside his head.

"It was another lifetime ago, but yeah. My old team used to tickle me sometimes. Been so long that honestly, I was pretty nervous about you trying it."

"Ah shit, I really am an asshole," Wade felt a tang of guilt in his chest, knowing the X-men were still a very sore spot for Logan, "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

Confusion set over Logan's face.

"What for?"

"You know, for bringing up old memories you had with them. Don't worry, I won't do it again. I hope it didn't upset you too much."

Logan's puzzled expression then changed with a soft smile slowly breaking out.

"Wade ya got it all wrong. I'd have literally killed just to share in such mundane moments like that with them again. So once ya started tickling me it just, I don't know....made me think of those good times and...," he stopped as he looked away with a shake of his head, "Ah never mind, it's stupid."

"No no, it's not. Please keep going," Wade encouraged, scooting closer to indicate to Logan that he had his full attention.

"All I'm sayin' is that ya didn't upset me one bit. The opposite, in fact. That whole torture fest that you just put me through made me feel like I was with them again. I haven't felt that close to them ever since they were taken from me. And, well, what I'm trying to say is is that I felt.....happy."

Wade could feel his heart swelling up in his chest as Logan revealed all of this information to him. He instantly felt a lot better knowing that he hadn't caused his friend any mental anguish.

"That's such a big relief. You never seem to want to talk about them much, so I try to avoid making you think about them. The last thing I want to do is make you depressed."

"I know, but I've decided that's not what I should be doing. They don't deserve to not be openly remembered. Hell, I never want to forget anything about 'em."

Wade nodded in quiet understanding before Logan's eyes brightened up, reaching back into his mind.

"Kurt was the worst. He used to always get me bad. Really bad. Teleportation and a prehensile tail? It was always over for me before it even started. Heh, that fucker. Shit, even Jean and Scott would gang up on me once in a while. I tell ya, telekinesis is the ultimate cheat. And Rogue....she loved physical contact so you can guess that tickle fights were one of her favorite things. And I'd let her win once in a while....at least that's what I told myself, hmph."

Wade had never really heard Logan talk about his teammates before. It made him overjoyed to see he was starting to move forward in the right direction towards making peace with himself as Wade listened in silence to everything Logan said before finding his voice again.

"They sound like my kind of people. I think Nightcrawler and I would have made a formidable team-up against you," he playfully nudged Logan's shoulder as the X-man's smile grew from his mind manifesting an image of his old friend.

"Heh, Kurt. Yeah, he was something else. His goal was always trying to get me to snort too. He used to do those.....whaddya call that shit....raspberries. Right on my stomach. Just about damn near killed me," Logan chuckled and shook his head with a faint shiver running up his back; almost able to feel the sensation again as he thought about it.

Wade smirked as he rubbed his chin in thought like a supervillain.

"Ohhh reeeeeally....raspberries, huh? Well that sounds like it could be really fun. Remind me about it the next time I decide to tickle the shit out of you, kay?" Wade reached over and wiggled fingers into Logan's stomach, making him bust out a laugh before shoving the hand away.

"No fucking way. It's pure torture. Ya better not even think about it," he growled, but his words did not sound nearly as serious as he wanted Wade to believe. Of course, the other man picked up on that immediately but continued to play along.

"How can you expect me not to? I've never seen such ticklish abs. But okay. I'll think about not doing it, but no promises. So I suppose that means belly rubs are off the table too?"

Logan laughed again as he looked over at Wade.

"It's funny you say that because Jean and 'Ro used to give me belly rubs, thinking it would relax me, but it always just made me ticklish. I think that's partly why they liked doin' it, but regardless I never tried to stop them. Hell, sometimes I'd even ask for it. As much as it tickled it did feel pretty good."

"Well, I know I'm not nearly as hot as those X-women, but I'll always be here to give you all the belly rubs you could ever want," Wade chuckled, expecting Logan to roll his eyes and vehemently decline his offer, but instead a rare, warm smile broke onto the Wolverine's face.

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Are you kidding? Of course I would! You want one now?"

Logan shook his head as he got to his feet.

"Eh, maybe later. How about ya get your ass dressed first and we'll go out for a beer?"

Wade just stared back at him with both brows raised while he stood up as well.

"......It's 8:30 in the morning, Logan."

"Hey, breakfast beer is a thing, alright? Least it was in my universe. Kurt was always down to go with me so if ya want to.....it would mean a lot," a true, genuine smile was on Logan's face as he looked hopefully to his roommate.

Wade couldn't say no even if he actually wanted to. Logan was finally letting him into that side of his life, and he was not going to deny him. It felt like a new beginning. So he sidled up next to him and grinned broadly, putting an arm around the wide shoulders.

"Alright ya big lug, you talked me into it. Just give me a minute and then we'll go get fucked up."

"Appreciate it."

#ticklish!wolverine #ticklish!logan #ler!deadpool #ler!wade #deadpool tickle #wolverine tickle #tickle fic #fluff

56 notes · View notes

nonbinary-octopus · 2 months ago

Text

me: if I am not to sleep I will put on some music and do a writing

me: and for the music I shall do the song that's been stuck in my head today

ra ra rasputin: physically compels me to dance such that writing is not very possible

#original #I'm looping it anyway #no I am not doing the rasputin dance because I do not know it #just moving to the beat #some wiggling of shoulders but a lot of arm movements #it's amazing how much dancing you can do while sitting #ra ra rasputin

9 notes · View notes

whocaresstillthelouvre · 3 months ago

Text

Harvest Moon

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 3,100 Summary: It's Joel's birthday and you're going to make sure he has a good one. Warnings: smut, fluff, dancing in the kitchen to neil young, unprotected p in v, public-ish sex (but under a blanket), talking to neighbors while sitting on joel miller's cock, apocalypse birth control (pulling out), fingering, riding, joel has a filthy mouth, no use of y/n, not beta read.

A/N: I spent most of tonight adding 2,500 words to this barely written piece. Now it's two hours past my bedtime, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOEL MILLER!!! This can absolutely be read as a standalone, but, this is yet another singular smut entry for my Elks babies. This was originally going to be posted as a birthday celebration chapter for that, but I really wanted to give Joel his gift on his actual birthday. Happy birthday you gorgeous old man, you. Hope you like the porn I wrote about you. ❤️🥴

Masterlist

🌕🌕🌕🌕

You’ve been looking for the CD since you learned of Joel’s love of the song. Tommy did it, he actually did it. Somehow by some miracle he found the CD.

“Not a problem,” he gives you that same shy Miller lopsided grin. “Milt had it. Told me to tell you it’s yours to keep… said he owes you since you were his daughter’s favorite teacher ‘n all.”

“Thanks Tommy,” you say, barely being able to contain your excitement, “this is going to be amazing.”

“Of course. Should be thanking you really,” he shrugs. “It’s about time he had a good birthday.”

—

Joel said he’d be helping fix one of the greenhouses today, but you’re still scared to ruin the surprise as you unlock his door.

“Joel?” you yell out into the quiet, seemingly empty house.

No answer. Perfect.

Quick steps lead you to his CD player, the same one he first showed you how much he cared for you with. Now, it’s your turn to show him just how much he means to you. The disc tray opens and you place the CD into the system, you can’t wait to surprise him.

—

“More coffee?” you ask, holding up the percolator.

He nods and smiles, happily sitting at the table full from the steak, potatoes, and cornbread you made him. He had insisted on sharing the meat, but you refused, happy to let him enjoy the first taste of steak in over twenty years.

Your friend Helen got her boyfriend Greg to cut a small filet of steak from the newly butchered cow. She handed it to you with a knowing smile. It’s nice to see everyone accept yours and Joel’s relationship.

You lean over his lap, and top his coffee cup off.

“Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you in a dress? Can’t believe you got yourself all dolled up for me.” He surprises you by pulling you onto his lap.

“Careful!” you shriek, quickly placing the carafe on the table. “Yes, you have… many times. That's why I wore it.”

“Hmph,” he hums happily, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping securely around you. “Thank you for dinner–and everything sweetheart.” He presses a soft kiss to your skin.

“That’s not all,” you giggle as he nips at a sensitive spot under your chin.

He chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re so good to me.”

You clutch his chin tilting his head up to meet your eyes. “You deserve a happy birthday.” His big brown eyes search yours, like he’s forcing himself to believe it. “Joel, you do.”

He rests his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he sighs warmly.

“I love you too. Now, I have something else for you,” you slip off his lap and head towards your backpack. “It’s something small, I promise.”

You return with a bundle of fabric held behind your back.

“Remember when you tore your favorite flannel and you tossed it in the rag bag?”

You place the flannel in his hands.

“Well, a certain girl named Ellie grabbed it for me. I mended it, reinforced the buttons, and sewed up a couple holes. It’s not perfect, but it’s fixed.”

He holds the flannel up and inspects it. “This is–wow–this–I can’t believe it.” He looks up at you, his eyes wide with adoration. “I was wearing this that first day I saw you, y’know? This is so sweet sweetheart, thank you.”

He likes it, you thank your lucky stars. Your handsome Joel, here with you on his birthday, allowing himself to be taken care of.

You know the story of his birthday, you’ve retold the tale to yourself every night as you anticipated this day. Afraid to upset him, afraid to cross a line, but all you’ve wanted to do is give him the world he so deserves.

It wasn’t just you who thought of him today. It’s Tommy finding the CD. It’s Helen getting you the steak. It’s Ellie grabbing the flannel from the rag bag. He deserves all of it.

“You’re welcome,” you say with a kiss to his forehead. “Now, put it on. I have one more surprise.”

He slips the flannel on as you head to the living room. The CD waits in the stereo. You turn it on.

The soft guitar and brushes of a drum fills the air as you turn the volume up.

Joel’s huge smile greets you when you walk back into the kitchen.

“You– how?” he asks, unbelieving.

“Asked Tommy and he found it for me. Milt had his greatest hits. Now,” you reach your hand out to him, “may I have this dance birthday boy?”

He chuckles and takes your hand, pulling you into him. The two of you sway along to the music, his strong arms enveloping you as your cheek rests against his warm chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear. Your hands slip around his broad back, one of them trailing up to play with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He sighs deeply before placing a tender kiss against the top of your head.

“This is my favorite song,” he murmurs.

The sun has long since set, the singular lamp above the sink casts a warm dark amber glow across the kitchen Your shadows dance across the walls as you sway. He smells of coffee and sweet corn bread, like home and comfort.

He starts to hum then softly sing along. His deep voice reverberates through your ear, pressed against his heart.

“Because I’m still in love with you, I wanna see you dance again, Because I’m still in love with you, On this harvest moon”

You can hear the contentment in his voice as he holds you closer. Moving in synchronicity with each other, gently stepping across the small kitchen as the harmonica solo plays. If you could stay in this moment forever you would.

You tilt your head up, and his eyes meet yours. The smile he gives lights his face. Lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes, dimple sitting deep on his cheek, mustache curving with his plush upturned lips. He serenades you with the same lyrics as before, looking deep in your eyes.

“Because I’m still in love with you, I wanna see you dance again, Because I’m still in love with you, On this harvest moon”

His lips meet yours, thanking you with a gentle kiss. The man you love and adore, feels good on his birthday all because of you.

The song plays on repeat, the two of you dance together, Joel gently hums and sings along as the harvest moon rises above the mountains.

You gently pull away, unclasping his arms from around you.

“Come on birthday boy,” you say with a playful smile, “let’s go watch the stars.”

—

You and Joel sit beneath a large plaid comforter on his porch. The early fall breeze that rolls down the mountainside leaves a chill in the air. The night sky is lit bright with the orange full moon. Most of Jackson is at the Harvest Moon Festival tonight, you can just make out the distant sounds of laughter and music flowing through the air from the main street on his porch. Ellie was especially thrilled about the teen sleepover happening at the Bison tonight, giving you both this rare moment of solitude in his backyard. She told Joel she knew he was in good hands with you for his birthday.

And he is–or at least you’re in his good hands.

“Oh, god,” you softly whisper into the night, you’re so tense from keeping yourself quiet. The stars are a little harder to see tonight thanks to the ambient glow of the bright moon, and yet you see stars whenever you squeeze your eyes shut while fighting the urge to moan. Joel’s deft, large thumb rubs circles against your clit while you ride two of his thick fingers.

He’s driving you crazy like this. His large body and the blanket wrapped around you, overheating all of your senses in this chilly night. You’re completely covered, nobody would know that your legs are spread wide, one draped over his thick thigh while his hand is stuffed up your dress making you quake as he finger fucks you.

“Easy now, easy now,” he says nuzzling against your neck, his large nose charting a course across the sensitive skin. “Gotta remember where we are. You're the sweet, innocent teacher 'n librarian here. Lotta people look up to you, can’t have them knowin’ what my girl really likes when she’s with me.” Your hips slow their movement, he makes up for it by pumping you harder. “See, I can help, just gotta let me know you want it baby.”

“Want to take–neyugh–care of you,” struggles out of your mouth.

“You’re taking care of me right now, sweetheart, touching you is my favorite thing to do.”

“Want to go inside… w-want to–want–to, want to feel you in my mouth,” you grip the straining bulge underneath the fly of his jeans.

“Not yet,” he sighs deeply when you squeeze harder. “Like seeing your skin glow in the moonlight. What you’re doin’ now is enough, want to enjoy my night with you.”

Your hold tightens around his cock as you fight harder to suppress the urge to scream into the night. His fingers angle up hitting your most sensitive spot and you feel like you could explode. You’ll be the fireworks to celebrate Joel’s birthday. A whimper is fought by biting your lip, it’s so hard to not scream. His brown eyes look almost black in the low light as he watches you struggle and blink rapidly.

“Shh baby, you’re doing so good, bein’ so quiet, don’t ruin it now. If anybody was out right now they could walk right on by and they’d have no idea what I’m doing to you under here.”

You’ve never done anything like this, so out in the open. Jackson is a peaceful town full of law abiding citizens, and right now you’re sitting on the back of the porch of Joel’s house getting felt up by him.

“Joel… I–I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me baby.” His hot breath hits your lips before sealing his mouth against yours. Your cunt spasms against his thick fingers, you feel set alight by your orgasm, overheated and burning. Maybe you’re glowing just as bright as the moon. His tongue dances with yours, swallowing all of your gasps and cries. You’re sure at this point, anybody that walked by would know exactly what was happening between the two of you. You don’t care, all you want is to feel Joel’s cock inside you.

“Want you, Joel, want you so bad,” you mew as his fingers rub against your sensitive folds.

“Okay baby, okay.” His fingers slip from your warmth before he brings his soaked digits to his lips. His eyes flutter shut when he tastes you.

“Sweeter than birthday cake,” he declares before raising his hips and pulling his jeans down with a grunt. “Come here. Come sit on me.”

Your legs spread wide as you straddle his large lap with your back pressed against the warmth of his chest. He grips himself and moves the half hard heft of his cock against your soaked core, swirling his tip back and forth across your clit.

“Tell me you want my cock,” he whispers against your neck, licking a line up to your ear. “Tell me baby.”

“I-I want your cock–I need your cock Joel,” you beg.

“I know you do darling,” he chuckles deeply, lining himself up to your entrance.

The sounds of the festival go silent and the bright orange moon fades as you slowly sink down on his cock. Taking all of him, thick and throbbing into your tight cunt.

“That’s my good girl,” he grits. “Your sweet pussy is taking me so well, isn’t she?”

Clutching your bottom lip tightly between your teeth, you try to fight the moan his words bring up.

“Oh, you must like that. You’re squeezin’ me so hard sweetheart.”

You set a pace, riding him gently under the moonlight, his fingers gripping your hips tight.

His hot breaths hit the back of your neck as your back molds even tighter to his front. His hand snakes down to rub your clit, small circles making your body meld even more against him.. The rhythm of his fingers and cock spearing you pulls another orgasm down from the ethers of space. Shivering, sweating, and stuttering Joel’s name, you’re trying to be good for him, trying to not scream into the night.

“That’s my girl, grippin’ my cock so good, cummin’ all over me. Getting yourself nice and slippery so I can fuck you real good, huh?”

“Mmf,” is the only response you can muster. Your cunt flutters around him, and he doesn’t relent, slowly fucking into you while his finger pulses against your clit.

The sound of two people conversing approaches. Your movements come to a halt, Joel stays still, his finger still resting against your sensitive bundle of nerves and his cock sitting deep inside you. Hank and Billie, the nice couple that lives three houses down from Joel, walk past the porch. Both look over and wave a greeting. Fuck.

“Beautiful moon, isn’t it?” Hank says with a smile.

“Quite.” Joel responds. The rumble of his loud voice radiates through you.

“You guys get any barbecue tonight?” Hank asks. “It was really go–”

“We stayed in,” Joel gruffly responds. He subtly knocks his hips into you causing a wave of sensation to hit against your already cock-drunk pussy.

Your nostrils flare with a deep exhale.

“Oh, well, there will probably be leftovers tomorrow,” Billie offers. “Tell them I sent you and they’ll give you the good stuff.”

“Thanks Billie,” you breathlessly reply, wishing on every star you’ve seen behind your eyelids, they’ll leave. “We appreciate it.”

“Best be getting home,” Hank says, grabbing Billie’s hand. “We both had a bit too much to drink!”

Oh thank god.

“Enjoy your night,” Joel says plainly as he starts to slowly rock into you once they turn away.

To the eyes of your neighbors, you and Joel just look like a normal couple enjoying the night sky cuddled together under a blanket… little do they know he’s filling you with his thick cock under the shield.

“That was close,” he whispers against your ear before nipping it.

Your giggle is cut off by a moan when he fucks into you harder.

“Guess we shouldn’t take our time, don’t want to get caught, now do we?” he asks.

“We can just–nyuh–go inside,” you plead, wanting to be able to moan and scream Joel’s name in the comfort of his home.

“Gimme one more baby, gimme one more,” he grunts against your neck. “And then I’ll take you into my home and fuck you.”

His hips pound against your body, his thrusts bucking into your core harder. “That’s it baby, you really want me to take you in and lay you down ‘n fuck you, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you moan, your stomach tightening and thighs trembling as the universe splinters around you. Your orgasm rockets through your body. Color turns to black and white, noise falls silent. All that exists is Joel Miller and his big cock shattering you into a million pieces like your own personal big bang on the back of his porch.

“Good girl,” he groans, “let’s take this party inside.”

—

The plaid comforter is laid out on the kitchen floor. Your wobbly legs move your still blissed-out body to Joel’s stereo, starting “Harvest Moon” on repeat all over again.

You lean against the kitchen entrance, admiring Joel as he rests atop the blanket, naked and supporting himself on his elbows. No man over fifty should ever look as good as him. Broad shoulders frame his strong arms, his chest has a smattering of dark hair that trails down to the slight bulge of his stomach. His cock rests in between his legs, still hard and shining with your slick. He’s so gorgeous, and he’s all yours.

“Come here sweetheart,” his voice is gruffer. “Lay down next to me.”

His dick twitches as you walk to the blanket and settle beside him.

He moves over you, covering you with his warmth as he engulfs himself in your slick heat. Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist allowing him to take more.

“Joel,” you moan. The angle allows his cock to push farther in and your walls to tighten harder against him.

“Ooh, you’re so fucking wet, you hear that?” he asks incredulously. The squelch of your pussy soundtracks along to the song quietly playing in the background. “Sounds so fucking good baby.”

He gasps when buries himself to the hilt, soaking the curly hairs around the base of him with your wet.

Your body trembles as your hips meet his, his cock sliding in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace.

He takes no time to own you now behind the walls of his home. Your hands clutch at his wide back, sobs and screams of his name echoing out into the air as Neil Young softly sings in the background.

You’re so full of him. His body surrounding you, his lips against yours, his cock pounding into your accepting cunt, his name chanting out of your mouth.

“You want it baby?” he growls against your neck, his cock pumping in and out of your hole at a speed no man over fifty should be able to ever reach. “You want my cum?”

“C-cum Joel,” you cry, tears sprouting from your eyes as your fourth orgasm launches through you.

He gasps your name, pulling out of your tremorous pussy and shooting thick white ropes of cum across your pussy and stomach.

His sweat is slick against your overheated body, you’re a mess of sweat, orgasm, and love.

He kisses you, his tongue licking against yours before he rolls off you. His chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. “Fuck,” he pants, stretching his limbs out. “Gonna feel this tomorrow.”

“Well, you are another year older, old man,” you tease, curling up next to him.

“Yeah,” he turns his head to look at you. “I guess I am,” he sighs. “Thank you for–my birthday and–all of this. I can never put into words how much it all means to me.”

“So I guess you’re still in love with me?” you tease.

“Always. Especially on this harvest moon,” he returns your smile.

---

Tagging a couple people who had asked about this piece earlier this month: @almostfoxglove, @sawymredfox, @burntheedges, and @littlemisspascal 🩷🌝

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #jackson joel #joel the last of us #joel miller tlou

2K notes · View notes

faebled-stories · 3 months ago

Text

A Dragon's Deal with the Princess

Itzy's Shin Yuna and Hwang Yeji x Male reader.

Part 2

“Again!” Yeji’s voice echoed around the mirrored walls of the dance studio. It was a routine practice for their upcoming comeback, but today felt different—suffocating, almost. The leader was harsher than usual, picking apart even the smallest mistakes. The girls exchanged glances, unsure how to respond, recognizing the frustration etched on their leader’s face.

“Maybe we should take a break,” Lia suggested, to the silent relief of the group. Yeji looked at her exhausted members—panting, sweaty, barely able to stand. The guilt gnawed at her. She hadn’t meant to push them this hard. With a reluctant nod, she granted the break, and Ryujin and Chaeryeong bolted for the door, desperate for fresh air.

Yeji paced around the studio, lost in thought. Her frustration had been simmering for months. She knew why, but admitting it felt embarrassing. She and Y/N had been together for almost a year, and despite their deep connection, they hadn’t moved past kissing. It wasn’t that Y/N didn’t want to take it to the next step; he was patient, respectful of the boundaries she had set. But Yeji was starting to second-guess her decision.

Being an idol meant caution—her relationship with Y/N, no matter how perfect he was, didn’t matter to the public. What did matter was her image. But still, the guilt of holding back, knowing how much Y/N craved more intimacy, was wearing on her.

“Unnie?” A voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Yuna, the maknae, hadn’t left the room like the others. With her youthful innocence, Yuna still managed to exude a confidence that drew people in.

“What’s going on? Why are you so hard on us?” Yuna’s tone was soft, almost childlike, and it made Yeji’s heart sink. She didn’t want to be the reason the girls were worn down.

“I’m sorry, Yuna. I’ve just been... frustrated.” Yeji sighed as they both sat down, finally giving her aching legs a break.

“Is it the label again?” Yuna asked, her eyes wide with concern. “Unnie, this comeback will be amazing. I can feel it.”

Yeji let out a soft laugh. Sure, their last few comebacks hadn’t reached the heights of their earlier hits, but her frustration ran deeper than that. She debated whether to tell Yuna the truth but decided against it. Some things weren’t meant to be shared with the youngest member.

As the other girls returned, the conversation shifted, and Yeji was grateful for the distraction. But Yuna wasn’t convinced. She could sense something more was weighing on her leader.

The ride back to the dorm was quiet. The exhaustion from practice clung to the girls, their bodies sore and minds drained. No one even muttered a goodnight as they each disappeared into their rooms.

Yeji showered quickly and changed into her favorite pajamas, a matching set featuring her doppelgänger, Light Fury—one of Y/N’s thoughtful gifts. She smiled at the memory but her thoughts quickly returned to the day’s events and, once again, her pent-up frustration. A sudden knock at the door jolted her out of the moment.

“What do you want, Yuna? I’m busy,” Yeji muttered, flustered, as she opened the door. But Yuna wasn’t having it. Without a word, the younger girl marched into the room and sat on the bed, crossing her arms.

“Unnie, what’s going on? And don’t tell me it’s nothing.” Yuna’s tone had shifted—there was no more innocence in her voice.

“It doesn’t concern you, Yuna. Drop it,” Yeji replied, sitting down opposite her, their positions mirroring earlier in the studio.

But Yuna wasn’t backing down. After a tense exchange, Yeji finally gave in, too exhausted to argue anymore.

“Fine. I’ll tell you, but you can’t say a word to anyone. Promise?”

Yuna nodded, leaning forward, eager to finally get answers.

“Y/N and I have been together for a while and he's amazing, perfect even, but... we haven’t been intimate yet,” Yeji admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Yuna blinked, processing the confession.

“That’s it? You’ve been acting like this because you’re horny?” Yuna’s bluntness stunned Yeji, her face turning a deep shade of red

“What? So you're frustrated that he doesn't want it?” Yuna was getting to the bottom of this one way or another. Yeji’s face was red, almost blending into her hair. This has to be the most embarrassing conversation she's ever had.

“No, Its my idea” the words barely leaving her mouth, as it registered to Yuna she let out a frustrated whine

“So what's the problem? just fuck him and be done already. If its your choice to not do it just go to his house right now and make him fuck you, he would probably be done in thirty seconds by how backed up he is” Yuna was starting to get mad.

“Yuna! It’s not that simple... I want my-our first time to be special. He deserves it,” Yeji mumbled, embarrassed. But Yuna caught the slip in her words and wasn’t going to let her off that easily.

“You're a virgin? Why? Do you know how many people are dying to have you? You could literally walk down the street at any time and have someone for the night. You didn't even do it before getting with Y/N? Unnie, you're 24 years old.” Shocked didn't even begin to describe how Yeji is feeling right now, she thought she knew her members well but hearing Yuna talk like this, was a new side she's never seen.

“So you're saying you’ve had… y’know” Yeji stumbled on her words before Yuna finishes her sentences

“Sex? Yeah I’ve been fucked plenty of times. The feeling of a nice thick cock inside you, there's almost nothing like it. Do you remember when I did my performance of “U Go Girl”? The amount of staff members I had in my dressing room” she chuckled, reminiscing about her moments. “Most were smaller than I wanted but there was this one guy that was passable. I had taken so much that day that my makeup was ruined and-”

“Okay stop! Yuna how can you talk about that so openly. I don't want to hear about you getting intimate” Yuna rolled her eyes but she knew the leader was right, the topic should be focused on Yeji’s sex like or lack thereof..

“Because it’s not a big deal, unnie,” Yuna replied, arms crossing “Look, I can help you with this. Trust me.”

Despite her hesitation, Yeji eventually agreed. They spent the rest of the night planning, with Yuna more excited than Yeji could comprehend. The next day, they would go shopping for what Yuna called “essentials,” preparing for a moment Yeji was still nervous about.

The following morning, Yuna was up early, eager to drag her leader out for their shopping trip. Before they left, Yeji called Y/N.

“Hey, honey. Can I borrow your car today? Yuna and I are going shopping.”

“Of course, babe. I told you before just text me if you need it. You don’t need to ask” Y/N replied, his voice warm and loving. “Though I do love hearing your voice, maybe I should change my rule.”

Yeji laughed, her heart swelling at his sweet words. “You always know how to make me smile,” she said, feeling warmth spread through her chest.

“Its my favorite thing to do,” he replied softly. “You’re everything to me, you know that, right?”

“I do,” she said, her voice filled with affection. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too, honey. Have fun and say Hi to the members for me.”

After exchanging one more set of "I love you’s," she hung up, her mind still racing with thoughts of what was to come. a smile playing on her lips. This is going to be unforgettable.

-----

In the mall, the girls walked around in their typical idol disguise: all-black outfits, matching hats, and masks. Most idols knew the disguises didn’t help much, but companies insisted. Yuna led Yeji to a lingerie store, shelves filled with everything from practical undergarments to more provocative pieces. Yuna piled item after item into Yeji’s basket, forbidding her from interfering during the selection process.

With the basket full, Yuna nudged Yeji toward the changing rooms. “Go on, try them on,” she teased, waving her off.

Hesitantly, Yeji slipped into one of the sets and stared at herself in the mirror. She had to admit, Yuna had good taste. The patterns and cuts highlighted her body in ways she’d never seen before. Admiring the fit, she nearly jumped when the curtain rustled behind her.

“Relax, unnie, it’s just me.” Yuna stepped in, unbothered by Yeji's modesty. Her eyes swept over the outfit. “Wow, you look hot. Y/N’s going to devour you.”

Yeji rolled her eyes, blushing furiously. Before she could say anything, Yuna gave her a playful smack on the butt, laughing as Yeji froze, mortified.

After the awkward but successful trip to the changing rooms, they made their way to checkout. The line stretched on forever, adding to Yeji's growing anxiety. The longer they stood, the more she feared being recognized.

Finally, at the register, the cashier greeted them. “Did you find everything okay?” she asked, scanning item after item. Then, her eyes widened as she took in the two idols.

“Wait... are you Yeji from Itzy?”

Yeji's heart sank as she instinctively looked down, trying to hide behind her mask. It was no use, the girl behind the counter already saw her eyes, they were the most recognizable feature of hers

“And Yuna! Oh my gosh, I love you guys!” The cashier’s excitement made Yeji cringe as she realized just what was being scanned. With each passing moment the cashier face turned from excitement to shy and red, almost not looking at her idols as she placed each item into a bag. The awkward silence stretched on as Yeji hastily paid, and they hurried out of the store.

Once outside, Yeji groaned. “Ugh, that was so embarrassing. Did you see her face? She probably thinks we’re buying this for a... date night or something.”

Yuna laughed. “Unnie, who cares? We’re adults, we’re allowed to wear nice things. If people can’t handle that, that’s on them.”

Yeji dragged her feet, understanding but still feeling flustered. They continued shopping for regular items—clothes, makeup—before heading back to the car. As they loaded up their bags, Yeji’s eyes widened in sudden realization.

“Condoms,” she blurted out. “We forgot condoms.”

Yuna blinked, confused. “Unnie, just take a pill. It’s better without the rubber, trust me. You should feel the real thing for your first time..”

Yeji shook her head. “No, Yuna. I agreed with everything today, but this is where I put my foot down. We need condoms.”

Yuna groaned but relented. “Fine, there’s a pharmacy nearby. Go get them, I’ll wait in the car.” She pulled out her phone, but when Yeji hesitated, nervously fidgeting, Yuna narrowed her eyes. “Wait... why aren’t you going?”

“I just... Can you get them for me?” Yeji begged, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please? You know more about this stuff than I do.”

Yuna sighed, sounding exasperated. “Fine. What size?” she asked, glancing at Yeji expectantly. But the silence stretched on, making Yuna narrow her eyes.

“Have you ever even seen his dick before?” Yuna asked, her tone teasing but sharp.

Yeji stammered, recalling the one time she accidentally walked in on Y/N in the bathroom. “Uh, I’m not sure what the packaging size would be, but it was... about this big,” she said, awkwardly gesturing with her hands.

Yuna’s eyes widened as Yeji’s hands kept moving farther apart, ending in a size that made Yuna swallow hard.

“Unnie, are you sure? Maybe you misremembered. That’s... pretty big.”

Yeji frowned, her face flushed with embarrassment. “No, I’m sure.”

Yuna blinked, her face heating up as she tried to process what she just heard. “O-okay. I’ll get them,” she stammered, hurriedly getting out of the car, her mind spinning. No way he’s that big... is he?

As she rushed away, a familiar, unsettling feeling bubbled up inside her. She didn’t want to admit it, but she knew why she was reacting this way. Ever since she started having sex, she had always been different—drawn to something specific. She had spent countless nights scouring the internet, reading article after article, trying to put a label on what she was feeling. And eventually, she found it.

She was a Size Queen.

Inside the pharmacy, Yuna scanned the aisles, finally locating the condoms. She eyed the options, landing on the larger sizes in the far corner, barely touched. Picking one up, she made her way to the counter, her pace quickening as her cheeks warmed.

"Why isn't there a self-checkout in this place?" she muttered under her breath, a flicker of frustration crossing her mind. This could’ve been done in seconds.

At the counter, the cashier, a woman in her thirties, gave her a knowing look as she bagged the item. Yuna avoided eye contact, mentally counting the seconds until she could leave.

“Have fun,” the cashier smirked, handing over the bag. Yuna tapped her card quickly, face red, before bolting back to the car.

She made her way back to Yeji, before they drove off back to the dorm. She got dropped off with the bags, Yeji saying that she will just return the car to her boyfriend, and she will find a way home. She thanked Yuna for everything before leaving.

The maknae couldn't shake off her feelings as she made her way inside. Dropping Yeji’s bags in her room, she quickly went back into the comforts of her own room, breezing past the other members saying she was tired from shopping. She got on her mattress before leaning to the edge, almost upside down as she reached for a box under her bed. It was a blacked out shoe box making it blend under the bed, hidden from anyone who quickly checks. She opened it before grabbing her trusted toy.

As she lay back, memories of Yeji’s gesture kept flashing in her mind, along with brief, stolen glances of Y/N. Her thoughts drifted, and before she knew it, the toy felt... inadequate.

She stared at it, comparing it to what Yeji had shown her. No way... she thought, feeling her body react in a way she hadn’t expected. Could he really be that big? She didn't believe that he would be bigger than her toy, the only reason she bought it was because it towered over the guys she had.

Yuna didn’t notice it at first, but just the thought of Yeji’s boyfriend being that well-endowed had her body reacting in ways she couldn’t control. She was dripping, even more than when she had been using her toy. Realizing where her thoughts had drifted, she quickly cleared them. You shouldn't be fantasizing about your leader’s boyfriend, Yuna. Shaking her head, she pushed those ideas away.

Luckily, she didn’t have to distract herself for long, as she heard the front door open. Yeji’s voice floated into the room, cheerful and light as she chatted with the other members.

"He's so too cute. After I returned his car, I told him I'd take a taxi here, but he dropped everything and insisted on driving me himself," Yeji shared, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Chaeryeong let out a playful groan. "He’s so sweet, you’re lucky, unnie," she teased, causing everyone to laugh. "Ugh, when’s my moment to find a man?"

“Well, if you were not cooped up in your room all day maybe you would have found him by now” Ryujin countered, sticking out her tongue playfully

Yeji smiled, excusing herself and knocking softly on Yuna’s door. “I’m going to my room to plan. Come over when you’re ready.”

Yuna sighed, placing her toy back into its hiding spot. She straightened herself before making her way to Yeji’s room. Inside, Yeji sat on the bed, her phone out, clearly ready to take notes.

“So, in two days I’m going over to his place,” Yeji said, a little nervous. “What then? Do I just, like, ask him to have sex?”

Yuna couldn’t help but laugh at her leader’s naivety. She shook her head, sitting next to Yeji. “No, unnie. You’ve got to set the mood.” She grinned and launched into her plan.

“Here’s what you’re going to do. You’ll meet him at his house in the evening, maybe watch a romantic movie. Something to get him in the mood. While you’re cuddling, keep physical contact the whole time.” Yeji nodded eagerly, typing this into her phone.

“Then,” Yuna continued, “you excuse yourself to the bathroom and put on the lingerie we bought today. When you come out, stand in front of him, blocking the TV. Let him get a full look at you. He’ll be shocked—guaranteed. You’re going to climb right on top of him. Confidence is key. If you're correct about his feelings then he won’t be able to resist.”

Yeji’s heart raced as Yuna painted the scene. It was vivid, making the older girl feel both excited and nervous.

“After that, you start kissing him,” Yuna went on, her voice growing softer. “Neck, lips, chest—anywhere you can. Then it’s your choice whether you want to move to the bedroom or keep going on the couch.”

Yeji’s eyes were wide, staring as Yuna’s voice trembled a little, but the maknae kept going, almost in a trance.

“Let him peel off your clothes,” Yuna whispered. “His hands will feel electric, especially since it’s your first time. And then, you can start by either... sucking his cock… his big.. fat… cock… feeling him stretch out your jaw as you take him deeper and deeper until you gag...or-or letting him eat you out, his tongue reaching the deepest depths of you, flicking over your clit until you cum straight into his mouth as he eagerly swallows your juices letting him show you how hungry he is. Then—”

“Yuna?” Yeji interrupted, eyes wide with red cheeks. “You can stop. I-I think I get the idea.”

Yuna blinked, her face flushing red as she realized how detailed she’d gotten. “R-right! That’s all. Just... have fun... d-do what feels natural” she stammered, standing up quickly and practically bolting to the door, leaving a bewildered Yeji behind.

Shaking her head, Yeji decided to unpack the shopping bags from earlier, laying out the clothes on her bed. As tried to make space she picked up a shirt Yuna had been sitting on, her fingers brushed against something damp.

“What the—?” Yeji frowned, looking closer at the fabric. The patch was wet, darker than the rest of the shirt. Confused, she glanced at her comforter and found a similar damp spot soaking through the material.

Her eyes widened. “How did that get there?”

-----

Yeji’s heart raced as she finally stepped into Y/N’s apartment. The night she had meticulously planned for was finally here. Every detail had been carefully thought out—from the lingerie she wore under her clothes to the small duffel bag packed extra clothes. This was it. After almost a year with her boyfriend, she was ready to lose her virginity, and she was determined to make the night perfect.

But her confident smile faltered the moment she entered the apartment. Standing there, much to her shock, was Y/N’s mother, greeting her with a wide grin. Before Yeji could fully process the situation, she was pulled into a warm hug.

“Oh, Yeji! It’s been so long! My, you just get prettier every time I see you. Don’t you agree, Y/N?” she gushed, oblivious to the tension quickly building in the air.

Y/N shot Yeji an apologetic look, silently conveying that he had no idea his mother would be visiting tonight. Yeji’s heart sank, her grand plans for the evening dissolving before her eyes.

Instead of the romantic night she envisioned, the three of them ended up having dinner together. Y/N’s mother dominated the conversation, sharing stories and asking questions. Yeji did her best to remain polite, nodding and laughing at the right moments, but inside, she was simmering with frustration. This was supposed to be her night. She and Y/N barely ever had time alone, given her demanding idol schedule, and now it felt like it was slipping away.

After dinner, Y/N’s mother excused herself to the guest room for the night. Yeji forced a smile but mentally pouted, knowing her seduction plans would now have to be postponed.

“So,” she asked, trying to keep her tone light as Y/N sat next to her, “what time is your mom leaving tomorrow?”

Y/N sighed, sensing her disappointment. “She mentioned leaving in the afternoon,” he said.

Yeji’s mind raced. She didn’t want to waste this rare opportunity. An idea flashed in her mind she remember that all of her members would be away from the dorm tonight, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. “Actually,” she began, “I forgot something back at the dorm. I was planning to use it tonight.” She gave him a playful look. “Do you mind coming with me to get it?”

Y/N hesitated, thinking for a moment and although he was a bit confused, he trusted her. “Sure,” he finally said, “let’s go.”

As they drove to the dorm, Yeji’s excitement bubbled beneath the surface. Her plan was still on, and she could hardly wait to make it happen. As soon as they arrived, she wasted no time, pulling Y/N straight to her room.

Inside, without saying a word, Yeji started undressing, revealing the sexy lingerie she had bought just for this night. Y/N stood frozen, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of his girlfriend in the daring outfit. She looked stunning, and the air between them crackled with anticipation.

Yeji walked over to him with purpose, placing her hands gently on his chest. Her heart was pounding, but she leaned in close, her lips brushing his in a slow, deep kiss that set the stage for everything that was about to come.

They made out passionately, soft sounds of kissing and heavy breathing filling the room. Yeji guided Y/N to sit on the edge of her bed before kneeling down in front of him. She reached out to unzip his pants, freeing his hardening cock. It smacked her on the face and she smiled. She did remember correctly

Yeji and Y/N continued their passionate foreplay, his cock throbbing in her hand as she stroked him. Y/N then reached for the box of condoms that he spotted beside her bed, Yeji snatched it from his hands and held it in hers before remembering what Yuna said, the lust was making decisions for her now as she tossed it behind her as she looked up at him with hunger filled eyes, biting her lower lip seductively. "I'm ready Y/N, let's do it," she breathed.

Y/N's heart raced as he forced a kiss between them while laying her on the bed and positioned himself between her spread legs. He teased her entrance with the tip of his cock, both of them shuddering at the contact. Y/N gazed down at Yeji, drinking in the sight of her flushed face, parted lips, and heaving chest. Her dark eyes locked with his, stormy with lust and anticipation. "Its time Y/N, make me yours," she whimpered

Yeji yelped as a sharp pain radiated from between her legs. Her plush bottom was being pressed down to the bed as Y/N's girthy shaft stretched her untried walls, burying itself half way. "Aaaah!" she cried out, eyes wide and unseeing, she felt a tear and her face contorted in a rictus of mixed agony and ecstasy.

The breath left her lungs in a whoosh as he bottomed out, his pelvis flush against her tender folds. Yeji could feel every thick, pulsing inch of him throbbing deep inside her formerly untouched core. It felt like he was rearranging her guts, reshaping her innocence into his own perfect sheath with his invasive hardness.

"Y/N," she whimpered pitifully, voice wavering with virgin trepidation. Her hands scrabbled at his broad shoulders as he loomed over her, breath hot against her face.

"Fuck," his guttural groan washed over her in a wave of raw masculine desire. "You're so tight..." He gritted the words through clenched teeth, battling back the urge to rut into her slick heat like a beast in heat. Yeji shivered at the primal nature of his tone, knowing she would be utterly ruined by his lust soon enough.

Yeji whimpered, trying to adjust to the feeling of being so incredibly full. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as Y/N slowly began to move, his thick cock stretching her untouched walls with each gentle thrust. The pain mixed with pleasure was overwhelming, making her dizzy.

"Shit, Y/N, stop please! Ugh, you're so big!" She gasped out, her nails digging into the sheets. The burning sensation of her innocence being taken made her wince with each twist of Y/N's hips.

Y/N groaned at the pressure, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he struggled to stay put. He could feel every flutter of her walls around him, hugging his cock like a vice. Her untouched pussy felt like heaven, so tight and wet around him.

Yeji's hands clawed at the sheets, twisting them into her fist as Y/N was still inside her, not moving at all. "Nnngh... Y/N... It feels strange... I'm stuffed so full of you..." She panted brokenly, her hips starting rolling to meet his own. Using that as a sign Y/N slowly started moving his hips. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

Yeji let out a high-pitched moan as Y/N's thick cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. "A-Ah! There! Please Y/N, right there Ffuuuck!" Her whole body jolted, pussy clenching down on him as he stirred up her inner walls.

Y/N cursed under his breath, Yeji’s needy cries driving him wild with lust. He picked up the pace, snapping his hips faster testing the waters. "Yeji, you take my cock so well baby, your pussy feels incredible. You like this don't you?"

"Yes, yes I love it! It's so good, don't stop!" Yeji keened, back arching off the bed. Her breasts bounced with each rough thrust . Y/N latched onto one of her stiff nipples, sucking hard enough for the suction to lift up her chest as he pulled away.

Yeji yelped, the mix of pleasure and pain making her dizzy. She could feel herself rapidly approaching her peak, her untouched body overwhelmed by the intense sensations. "I-I'm gonna cum Y/N! Make me cum on your cock!"

Y/N growled possessively, doubling his efforts. He pounded into her sopping cunt, stirring up her cervix with the thick head of his cock.

"Ahhhnnng fuuuuck!" Yeji threw her head back, a silent scream on her lips as her orgasm crashed through her. Her velvety walls rippled around Y/N's length, milking him for all he was worth. Clear juices mixed with blood gushed out around his pistoning cock, soaking the sheets beneath them.

But just one thin wall away, unbeknownst to them, the youngest was in her room. Earlier at the bar, she hadn’t felt motivated to hook up with a random person, so she decided to call it an early night.

And now Yuna could hear everything—the sounds of Yeji’s breathy moans and gasps filtering through the thin walls like a forbidden melody. Her heart raced as she pressed herself against the barrier, each noise heightening the fire simmering inside her.

Without hesitation, Yuna grabbed her toy, her fingers trembling slightly as she brought it close. It apparently wasn’t as big as Y/N, but as she squeezed it in her hand, she let her imagination come through. Her hand hovered near the waistband of her silky shorts, her body alive with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. Every moan from her unnie acted like a cue, guiding her deeper into her own mounting arousal.

As Yeji’s cries escalated, Yuna’s breath quickened, her face flushing as she slid the toy down, pushing it past her shorts. The rhythmic thudding of the headboard sent jolts of heat through her core, and Yuna pressed the toy against her slick entrance, biting her lip to keep from moaning. She thrust it inside slowly, her body tingling at the sensation, trying to imagine it was Y/N’s thick cock stretching her instead.

Her hips began to rock instinctively, the toy sliding in and out as her mind blurred with fantasy. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her pulse raced, matching the frenzied sounds from the next room. Every moan, every gasp from Yeji fueled her desire, the toy pumping inside her as her fingers moved to tease her clit, intensifying the sparks of pleasure shooting through her body.

Yuna could barely hold herself together, her breath hitching with each thrust as the heat inside her built to an unbearable level. Her hand tightened around the toy, her hips moving faster, grinding against it, desperate to chase the release she could feel rising.

Then, with a sharp gasp, a guttural moan ripped from her throat as her body tensed, the dam of pleasure finally breaking. A powerful wave of bliss crashed over her, sending shockwaves of electricity through her limbs. She trembled violently, her climax rolling over her in wave after wave until she finally collapsed, breathless, flushed, and utterly spent. Still listening to the massacre that's happening next door Yuna laid there, panting, her mind still buzzing from the intensity of her orgasm.

Meanwhile, in Yeji’s room, the couple was lost in their own world of passion spurred on by Yeji's pleasured cries. They had switched positions as per Yeji’s request, she was now on her knees, her hands gripping on the headboard as Y/n was slamming into her from behind "Harder Y/N, don't hold back!" she urged all the pent up frustration is now being aired out, and he complied with fervor, giving her everything he had, the bed creaking beneath them.

The bed frame creaked in protest as Y/N pounded into Yeji's dripping pussy. Her screams of ecstasy echoed through the "empty" dorm, mixing with the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. "Y/N, it feels so good! I'm about to cum again" Yeji cried out, her walls clenching around his thick cock like a vice.

Y/N felt her body spasm beneath him, her inner muscles milking his shaft as she came hard. "Fuck Y/N, I'm cumming! Oh shit!" Yeji practically screamed, her eyes rolling back in pure bliss.

Feeling his own climax approaching, Y/N slammed into her one last time before spilling his hot seed deep inside her hungry cunt. They collapsed together, sweaty and panting. Y/N slowly and carefully pulled out of Yeji, hissing at the sensitivity. She whimpered softly, feeling empty without him inside her. A rivulet of blood and cum dripped down her thigh, evidence of her loss innocence.

Y/N reached over the side of the bed, fishing around in his coat pocket. He pulled out a packet of wet wipes, tearing it open. Yeji watched through half-lidded eyes as he kneeled between her splayed thighs.

"Let me clean you up, baby." Y/N cooed softly, gently wiping away the proof of their union. He carefully swiped at her puffy folds, cleaning up the blood and cum. "You took my cock so well... I made a mess of your perfect little pussy, didn't I?"

Yeji gasped as he tenderly wiped at her sensitive slit, his touch gentle and loving. She squirmed at the sensation, pussy clenching down on nothing. "Mmm... It's sore... But it felt really good, Y/N. I love you so much and I'm so glad it was you who took it.

He smiled and brought her into a kiss as they now cuddled. Yeji, basking in the afterglow of her first time, smiled softly to herself. It hadn’t started off perfectly as planned, but losing her virginity to Y/N had been everything she could have hoped for. Her heart swelled with love and gratitude as they lay together, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest.

What Yeji didn’t know was that their intimate moment had an unintended witness. Yuna, still pressed against the wall, was coming down from another one of her climaxes, her breath finally slowing as her hand slid away from her body. Her face flushed with a mixture of shame and satisfaction. Stepping away from the wall and leaving her unnie to bask in her newfound status as a woman.

As Yuna stood and composed herself, her eyes caught the desk across the room, staring at the handles, her mind racing. Slowly, a twisted smile curled at the corner of her lips, her thoughts taking shape. She knew her unnie very well and now.

An idea had sparked—one that could change everything.

-----

When Yeji awoke, the first thing she felt was his hardness still buried deep inside her. A delicious weight pressed against her pelvis, stretching her walls in the most pleasurable way. Confusion swirled in her mind, then clarity washed over her as yesterday night's events came flooding back. She distinctly remembered shoving Y/N's cock inside her while he was asleep before drifting off, herself, wanting to feel him there for as long as possible.

Needing to get up, she got off her lover with a groan, her body aching in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Her legs felt heavy, sore, and she could barely walk without wincing. Each step reminded her of the night before—the pleasure, the intensity, and the way Y/N had taken her so completely. A slight blush spread across her face as she remembered how he had unloaded inside her so deep she could practically taste it..

But as quickly as it came thought now sent a ripple of concern through her. As much as she loved what had happened, she wasn’t ready for the consequences. Panic crept in as she realized she needed to do something, and fast. That’s when it hit her—there was only one person who might have what she needed.

Yuna.

Barely managing to stand, Yeji put on one of her stolen Y/N's hoodies that fell to her thighs and dragged herself down to the closest room and knocked on Yuna’s door hoping she was there. It swung open, too fast, almost like she was expecting her arrival. Her expression was casual.

“Unnie? What are you doing here so early?” Yuna asked, her voice light and playful, as though the night’s events hadn’t left her affected at all.

Yeji swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing. “I... um... I need something from you.”

Yuna raised an eyebrow, playing innocent. “Oh? What’s that?”

“A morning-after pill,” Yeji whispered, barely able to meet her eyes.

Yuna didn’t flinch, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. Without a word, she turned toward her desk, opening the drawer and pulling out a small bottle. She shook out a single pill, then turned to hand it to Yeji.

Grateful, Yeji smiled but just as she reached for it, Yuna’s hand pulled back, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You can have it...” she paused, her voice lowering. “In exchange for Y/N.”

Yeji’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as the weight of Yuna’s words settled between them, leaving her frozen in place.

The pill dangled between Yuna’s fingers, tantalizingly close. But the price...

Yeji stood frozen, her mind racing as Yuna’s words echoed in her head. The playful expression on Yuna’s face didn’t match the seriousness of the offer, sending chills down Yeji’s spine. She tried to process what was happening, her eyes locked on the pill in Yuna’s hand, but her heart was pounding for a different reason now.

“In exchange for Y/N?” Yeji whispered, her voice shaky. “What are you talking about?”

Yuna’s smile grew, a knowing look flashing across her face. “Oh, come on, unnie. You know what I mean. You had your fun with him, but... I want my turn.” She took a small step forward, closing the distance between them, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Give him to me, just once. Then, you can have this.” She twirled the pill between her fingers before slipping it back into the bottle, her eyes never leaving Yeji’s.

Yeji's heart raced, a mixture of disbelief and anger building inside her. “Yuna, that’s insane! You can’t be serious. He’s my boyfriend.”

“I know,” Yuna replied, her tone still maddeningly calm. “But... you don’t have to worry, I won’t take him from you forever—just for one night. I know you don’t want... complications, unnie.” She gestured toward the pill bottle, the unspoken threat hanging in the air between them.

Yeji’s body trembled with frustration and fear. The soreness from the night before was a constant reminder of the passion she and Y/N had shared, and the thought of Yuna being anywhere near him made her stomach twist. But the consequences of not taking the pill loomed large, making her head spin.

“What if I say no?” Yeji finally managed to ask, her voice small, barely holding together.

Yuna’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze. “Then I guess you’ll just have to deal with whatever comes next.” She shrugged as if the matter didn’t concern her, turning her back to Yeji and heading toward her desk.

Yeji's eyes darted to the pill bottle, her mind racing. She knew what was at stake, the fear of an unplanned complication gnawing at her insides. But then Yuna’s voice came again, cutting through the tense silence with deceptive ease.

“You know,” Yuna said, pausing as if this were an afterthought, “the pill might not even work if you don’t take it within 12 hours. You’ve already passed that window.”

Yeji froze, her heart skipping a beat. “Twelve hours?” Her voice wavered, barely a whisper. Her eyes widened as dread washed over her, the information hitting her like a physical blow. Inexperienced and overwhelmed, she tried to steady her breath, but it came out in shallow, uneven bursts.

Yuna’s smirk grew, predatory in its subtlety. “Yeah. So... it’s up to you what you want to risk.” Her words dripped with quiet satisfaction, knowing exactly what they were doing to Yeji.

But the truth was, Yuna was lying, and Yeji had no idea. The pill was still effective within 72 hours, but Yuna was deliberately sowing seeds of panic, feeding Yeji false information to manipulate her. Every word Yuna spoke was calculated, a cold weapon designed to break Yeji down in her most vulnerable state.

Yeji’s head spun, the lie twisting around her like a suffocating vine, leaving her feeling trapped, desperate, and utterly powerless.

Yeji’s thoughts were a chaotic blur—she couldn’t believe Yuna had the nerve to suggest something so twisted. But time was slipping away, and every second that passed felt like it was pushing her closer to a breaking point. She could walk away, but what would that mean for her future? Her career? Her life with Y/N?

The silence in the room felt suffocating as Yuna sat down, shaking the pill bottle with a smug grin, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “Tick tock, unnie. What’s it going to be?”

Yeji swallowed hard, her mouth dry, heart pounding as she stood there, torn between protecting her relationship and the fear gnawing at her insides. The pill bottle seemed to mock her, a constant reminder of the impossible choice that weighed on her heart.

And then, in the silence of the room, Yeji made her choice. Without another word, she stepped forward and reached for the bottle sealing her fate.

#girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #male reader #reader insert #itzy smut #shin yuna #shin yuna smut #yuna smut #hwang yeji #hwang yeji smut #yeji smut #yeji x male reader #yuna x reader #yeji x reader #yuna x male reader

891 notes · View notes

beardedjoel · 9 months ago

Text

oasis

dbf neighbor! joel miller x f!reader. one shot.

main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: your dad's friend is tasked with looking after you while he's out of town. he ends up finding you somewhere you absolutely shouldn't be. blackmail ensues. 8.3k words.

for @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my genre was dark and the prompt was "please don't tell my dad!" thanks for the amazing challenge! 💌

warnings: 18+ MDNI! dark themes, joel is pervy and sleazy, age gap (reader is under drinking age but an adult so 18-20, joel's age unmentioned but he calls himself an old man and he's 50+ in my head), consensual but there are elements of coercion and blackmail so... (it's dark! okay!), unprotected piv, lap sitting, lap dance, thigh/crotch riding, orgasm denial, pussy pronouns, dirty diiiirty talk, cumshot?, reader has hair that can be pulled and wears lingerie but otherwise is undescribed.

a/n: this is less edited than my usual work but i hope i did it justice! it was very fun and silly to come up with this idea and i ended up loooving how crazy it got!

Keep an eye on her while we’re gone, eh?

The words from your father ring through Joel’s ears when he hears the start of an engine from where he sits in his living room, his view on the plush couch offering a perfect view through the large picture window on the front of the house. Right to where you live with your dad, where he can see the lights of your car come on. Bingo. He’s got you now.

Obsession felt like a strong word, but Joel could describe it no other way as soon as you’d moved in across the street - your dad was a longtime friend and neighbor, talk of his little girl rampant for years before he’d had the chance to meet you. You were going to be going to college nearby, so you moved from where you lived with your mom in California down to your father in Texas, right across the street from where he’d had the pleasure of laying eyes on you for the first time.

Young. Supple. Beautiful. And so damn shy.

He hated just how much it turned him on when your timid eyes would find his. The pervy old man who couldn’t keep his eyes off a young girl - what a god damned cliche he’d become. He kept tabs on you, at first not really realizing he was doing it, eyes peering out the windows to catch you on your way out the door or coming home soon escalated to trying to see into your bedroom window at the front of the house. His time with your father mysteriously seemed to double, then triple, any chance he could to get close to you, see you in your natural habitat, hoping to learn more about this special girl that had captured so much of his attention.

You dressed modestly, too - far too modestly for his liking - he knew your father was a strict man, and assumed just as much about your mother from the way your dad talked about his ex-wife. He never got to see enough of you, except for the few times you had on shorter dresses when the summer heat just got to be too much to bear, and those rare occasions burned themselves into his memory, a bank of images to pull from when he took a hand to his cock and thought of you.

He’s up in a flash, smiling softly to himself as he quickly slides on his shoes and swipes his keys from the front table, exiting the house and seeing your car still parked in the drive. You always sit there too long before driving off, probably playing on your phone, texting your friends, whatever the hell young girls like you do. All Joel knows is he’s grateful it gives him enough time to sneak to his truck before you can get too far, waiting until you pull out and start down the street before starting his own car.

Joel checks the time as he starts down his driveway and sees it’s well after 9:00 pm. Where the hell could you be going, you naughty thing? Your dad has a strict curfew for you, he knows, and if he’s tasked with keeping an eye on you, he might as well do it right.

So he follows you. You get on the highway, heading towards downtown, and Joel’s eyebrows raise as he turns up his music, cruising along behind you, so unaware as he sees the outline of your own head bopping along to your music when he can get a clear enough view.

When you finally park, the city streets bustling with people out late on a Friday night around you, Joel sits in his truck, eyes peeled as he watches you round a building, disappearing. Oasis, the glowing sign on the front says. It looks a bit seedy, this area of town, a bouncer on the outside that you’d given a curt wave to sending Joel’s expression into pure shock before a determined smirk crosses his lips.

It turns out it’s not as exclusive as having a bouncer would make it seem. Joel waits in line with the others, feeling a bit out of place but his appetite to bust you outweighs all of it. Not more than ten minutes later he’s inside, the dark hallway opening up to a massive room laid out in front of him. It’s busy - bodies everywhere, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and arousal permeating everything and Joel blinks to adjust his eyes to the dim mood lighting. A dance floor takes up most of the middle, crowded to the max as music bumps through the speakers, and two bars flank either side, fully packed as well. There are lounges everywhere - cushy leather couches with tables, and as Joel’s vision comes in in full, he sees more private spots along the edges of the room on a slightly elevated area, curtains closing them in.

Too busy taking everything in, he doesn’t even notice the most important detail right away - the waitresses. More specifically, the way they’re all dressed. Gorgeous bodies of all shapes and sizes, parading around in what is essentially lingerie - a lacy black bra paired with a matching set of panties, sheer black stockings and a garter trailing down their legs all the way to the heels that adorn their feet. Joel feels a twinge inside his belly, pulling low and taut when he spots one of the waitresses with thick thighs and a plush stomach grinding on a woman sitting on one of the couches, the receiver throwing her head back in teasing, pleased laughter before taking a long sip of her drink. He continues scanning the room, seeing another man closer to his age being straddled by a different waitress with one of the nicest pairs of tits Joel has ever seen in that same uniform, her hips swaying and grinding so close to his crotch as she gives him a lapdance.

Fuck.

His mind spins faster, blood going hot as it runs through his veins, his cock twitching under the denim of his jeans. It’s been too long - all the pining, the built up frustration, and he’s needy. He finds it hard to believe you’d just be out partying at a place like this, certainly not the neighborly girl he knows. Bringing over leftovers you’d cooked for you and your dad, always with a little treat on the side and a soft smile, your frilly socks and white tennis shoes, collars that never revealed much past the very top of your gorgeous tits. But it still made him fucking crazy, all of it. He wanted to be the one to ruin it, to see who you really are underneath all of the fluff and sweetness. Because at the end of the day, he knows he wasn’t imagining that glint in your eye that told him you had more to offer.

Joel shakes the distractions and his dirty, racing thoughts, eyes scanning the room for you, remembering his mission. He is about to internally ask himself the question when your appearance answers everything he needs to know. Slack jawed, he looks on as you step out from behind one of the bars, tossing a smile over your shoulder at one of the other workers as you start to move carrying a tray full of drinks.

When you emerge in full, strutting your way across the room, you’re wearing it. The outfit. The skimpy bra and panties to match all of the other servers. Your coworkers. Oh, he’s so thoroughly fucked right now, he thinks in a rising panic. But then again, so are you.

“Thank god you’re here! You’re seriously such a life saver,” Kristina says breathlessly as you breeze into the locker room. She’s one of the supervisors here at Oasis, the club you’ve been working at since the beginning of the summer. Sure, you were underage to serve alcohol, but the owners of this club seemed willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of things to gain good talent. Good pay, direct cash, and an insane amount in tips. Enough to pay your way through college, you hoped. Beyond all of that, once you’d gotten into the swing of things you found that you liked it, too. The power you felt in these heels, the way eyes followed you everywhere, you’d never felt so desired, so free or sexually open in your life. Although the only time you’d actually had sex was with your one ex-boyfriend, and it never felt like you do here - sexy, with raw desire filling the air, something so tangible you feel you can reach out and touch it sometimes.

You pull your shirt over your head, unclasping your regular bra and swapping it for the black, lacy one that lives inside your locker. Kristina stands nearby, unfazed by your bare chest as she thanks you. She’d called you about forty five minutes ago, begging for you to come in on your night off when another server, Rochelle, got sick right as things started to pick up. Friday night tips hadn’t sounded so bad when you had no plans apart from watching TV in your dad’s empty house, so it felt like a win.

“No problem,” you say, smiling at her. “Happy to help.”

“You’ve got section five tonight - Justin has Laura covering right now, just switch out when you’re ready, kay?”

You confirm, quickly finishing up your swap into your uniform, admiring yourself in the mirror with a soft smile, still getting used to the look of lingerie on you. You’d have been stupid to keep something like this in the house with either of your parents, not worth the risk if they found out about it.

The noise of the club blares, making you wince for a quick moment as you step out from the calmness of the locker room to the deafening noise beyond and get your bearings behind the bar. It really is busy, but all you can see is money when you glance around, admiring how full the place is tonight.

You’re stopped in the middle of your flow after swinging by the bar to pick up drinks for one of your tables. It’s an extra flirtatious group of men who are practically ready to feast on you, but for all the poorly managed things about this club, they at least have a strict no touching rule with the staff that is enforced by any number of the security guards around. So you get to have your fun, keep your distance, and hope they pay extra for a lapdance from you and tip you well for it.

“You’ve got a, uh, private request,” Justin says, speaking quietly but leaning close to your ear so you can hear him. You pull back, a look of surprise on your face, a questioning glance that he confirms with a nod. “We’ll cover your tables. Room seven.”

Your mind spins faster as you walk towards the room. The rooms aren’t fully private, just a halfway curtain that gives the impression you’re more alone than you are. That luxury doesn’t come cheap, so whoever booked this room and asked for you must mean business. In fact, management hasn’t even put you on serving private rooms regularly yet, reserving that right to the more tenured employees until you work your way up the ladder. You smile, wondering who it could even be that specifically requested you - a regular that loved the banter you’d offered? A new customer who was drawn to you from across the room? It makes your heart skip a little, anticipation and a hint of nervousness coursing through you as you reach the curtain, stepping beyond to see your mystery customer.

Holy shit.

The sultry smile you’d plastered on fades right off your face, replaced with a deep set frown, your mouth open but unable to speak. Your stomach is rapidly dropping to depths it's never known before as your face starts to burn hot, cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. Your arms fly up to your chest, crossing them over as some kind of futile cover of yourself, but his eyes are trained there unashamedly, seeing the way your arms have really just accentuated your cleavage. He’s spread out on one of the loveseats, completely alone, knees wide apart, lap open and desperately inviting when it absolutely should not be.

“M-Mr. Miller?”

Joel was having far too much fun with this. The priceless look on your face that had wiped off the pretty grin you’d had was worth every damn penny he’d spent on this ridiculous room just to get you alone. You think you can cover up, somehow, but it only really offers Joel a better view of your bottom half, the lacy shorts style panties a treat for his weary gaze, the garters sitting against your soft skin one of the most enticing things he’s ever seen. He instantly feels his cock getting hard as his eyes rake up and down your body, settling on where your tits are now pressed together against your crossed arms.

“Mr. Miller?” you stutter out after a long, dense silence between the two of you.

“Don’t cover up on account’a me, sweetheart,” Joel replies cooly, threading his hands together behind his head, looking even more relaxed than when you’d first walked in. Your arms seem to tighten around you, the complete opposite of Joel.

“Wh-what are you -” you start trying to ask, and Joel notices how you suddenly look unbalanced, legs shaking underneath you. You attempt a step forward, bringing yourself further into the room and it gives Joel an even closer look at you, and god damn you’re gorgeous. Your skin looks flawless, so smooth and soft looking - the apex of your thighs coming closer to eye level as you move forward, all adorned by that lace that’s making him wild. He’s never seen anything close to this much of your skin before, and he has half a mind to grab you right here and toss you over his lap, taking everything he wants from you.

“Could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” he questions you, enjoying the tease, the way he sees your face screw up a little tighter at the very valid point he was making. You’re caught, and there’s no way around it now, he thinks smugly.

Your face falls, eyes going to the ground and watching your feet shift nervously in your heels. “I-I get it. You made your point. I’ll go home, okay? I know I shouldn’t be here -” you stammer out, and the guilty look on your face tells Joel what he’d already suspected - your dad knows absolutely nothing about this job of yours.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Joel says, but he makes no move to get up, keeping a steady, unrelenting gaze on you. When you flick your eyes up to him, he sees they’re watery, and it makes his insides twinge with a strange mixture of regret and pleasure as he sees the tears brimming along the edges of your eyes, the subtle panic he can see growing.

“You’re bein’ very bad, ain’t ya? ” Joel tuts, and you seem to almost flinch at the words from where you awkwardly stand in front of him still, unsure of what to do, where to go. Joel feels that pleasure growing warm in his gut, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “I mean, look at that outfit, sweetheart -” Joel starts with a low whistle, sitting forward slightly so you can see just how much he’s admiring it, his eyes narrowed in inspection, the weathered lines in his face apparent with the way his brows are raised. “Thas’ a far cry from those clothes you wear on my doorstep, play actin’ a good little girl.”

“N-no! I don’t - I didn’t mean - I am good.” You’re more and more visibly flustered, your arms wrapping around yourself as Joel continues to tease you, intent on bringing you down a few more notches.

Joel gives you a condescending glare. “Darlin’, ain’t nothin’ good about this. Lemme tell you what I think…” He leans back again, staring up at you, not once inviting you to sit, and knowing you won’t unless he does - he wants to make you sweat. “You never got to have that rebellious streak w’ both your parents bein’ who they are, did ya? An’ you thought you deserved it, to have a little fun, didn’t you?”

Your lip quivers and you blink back another set of hot, embarrassed tears, eyes trained back on the dark, faux marble floors, refusing to speak.

“Didn’t you?” he asks again with more bite. Fucking brat. Good thing Joel had plenty of tactics up his sleeve to whip a wannabe brat back into a good girl, he thinks with a sly smile to himself.

“Y-yes! Okay? I wanted to do something… for me,” you finally admit, feeling yourself shake a little at his demanding words.

“Now was that so hard?” Joel asks, becoming acutely aware of just how hard he is, almost painfully so now that he’s been teasing you, fantasizing about this moment for far too long. You shake your head, still hung downwards in shame before bringing your eyes back to his. They look soft, youthful and desperate, and Joel has never felt so turned on in his goddamn life, all the power he’s feeling rushing right to his cock.

“J-just… please don’t tell my dad,” you say, almost quiet enough Joel can’t hear it over the distant bump of the music. But he made it out, the words he’d been hoping you’d say, the ones he knew you’d have to utter.

“I won’t,” Joel starts, seeing the relief flood your face, nearly laughing at how quickly you put stock in his words before even hearing what else he has to say. So naive. “But what’s in it for me, hm? Ain’t gonna keep a secret without a little… incentive.” Joel’s hands plant on his thighs, running up the length of them as he watches your emotions shift in real time, your jaw going slack, eyes widening and barely blinking. You just stutter, completely taken aback and Joel had expected as much - you’re too good of a girl to navigate a situation like this. Good thing he already has his next words planned and loaded up to help you along.

“Laps feelin’ mighty empty, y’know…” Joel muses, leaning back and spreading his palms out on the leather couch next to his thighs. You flash your eyes to his legs, then his face again, mouth gaping open, finally realizing just what he’s asking for.

You can’t believe this is happening to you. You should never have taken this job, kept such a big secret from your dad that you knew he’d absolutely kill you for if he found out. You were technically an adult now, but that didn’t mean you could just throw away his rules while you lived at home with him.

And now you were being blackmailed by his friend. His very handsome friend, but you’re trying hard not to think about that right now. There’s no way he’s serious about this, no way he could actually want this from you? The neighbor girl, his friend’s daughter? Mr. Miller had always been kind, just a bit of a grumpy edge to him but he loved to joke around with your dad. You often caught them laughing together, too shy to have inserted yourself enough with someone who made your skin grow hot just from glancing into his dark, chocolate brown eyes. But without that buffer of your dad, here alone in the dim lighting of the club, it was like he’d become another man.

“Y-you want me to…?” you say, blinking hard as you stare at his thick thighs and crotch, all spread wide open. It’s enticing - normally even with an attractive customer you find yourself thinking of it more as work - fun work, but still work. But with Joel… you’d felt heat pooling between your thighs as he observed you this entire conversation, the desire starting to outweigh the embarrassment you were feeling.

“Paid for it, didn’t I?” he remarks practically, a nip of impatience edging his voice as you swallow hard and step forward.

“Y-you don’t have to… we can get a refund if you don’t want me to do it…” you say, trying to remind yourself not to mumble, but your nerves are getting the best of you.

Joel’s head shakes slowly, his hand drifting out smoothly from his body towards you, tenderly locking on to where your wrist dangles at your side and pulls you closer. Closer. Closer, until he’s pulling you down so that you have to bend down, coming face to face with him. Your cheeks burn, breathing heavy and stunted as the tension in the air thickens, his lips so close to yours. You can’t help but glance at them, the inviting curve of his lips drawing you in, but Joel’s eyes are elsewhere, peering down right between your bodies where your tits are on such display for him, spilling out of the bra at this angle.

“Like I said,” he coos softly, eyes obviously drifting up towards your face, “I need a little incentive to not spill your dirty little secret, darlin’.” A smirk grows on his face before he lets go of your wrist, and you stumble backwards a little.

“Y-you -” you stutter again, trying to counter him, but you come up short. “O-okay…” you mutter with a sigh, taking a deep breath before you hesitantly turn around, facing your back to him.

Joel tuts immediately at your lack of enthusiasm. “None of that, gimme the full show, sweetheart, or the deal’s off.”

You huff quietly, taking a few steps away from Joel, readying yourself. He can see the change in your demeanor already, the more confident strides you take before turning around, facing him again. Then you begin your routine, practiced and ready, pacing towards him with a feline, graceful energy, heels clicking on the floor as you slip one leg in front of the other, heading towards him. You almost hesitate, pushing yourself through the doubt as your hand reaches out, grazing along his shoulder, moving inward towards his collarbone.

Your fingers drag along his chest, where one button of his flannel shirt is open, wishing you could delve your whole hand inside and feel the more than likely gorgeous planes of his chest. Christ, he’s so meaty, so thick everywhere you touch.

A soft rumble escapes his chest before you turn around, grinding your ass downwards and then back up, teasing him by getting a little lower each time. But it’s not enough, he knows you’re holding back, your movements a little stilted and awkward. His cell phone is out of his pocket before he can think much more about it, snapping a photo of the way your ass is grinding down towards him, just enough of your side profile in the photo that it’s undeniably you.

“Come on, know you can do better’n that.” Joel clicks his tongue, making you freeze, hovering awkwardly above him. “Do this for a livin’ lord knows how many nights a week. If you ain’t gonna give me what I paid my hard earned money for I can call your daddy right now… maybe jus’ text him this picture. What d’you think about that?” Joel asks, holding his cell phone forward and into your eyesight. You gasp, hands grabbing for it just as he snatches it away.

“D-delete that! Please!” you cry out, feeling panic squeeze at your chest. Fuckfuckfuck you are so thoroughly fucked right now if Joel has photo evidence.

Joel smiles down at his phone, peering at the image one last time before pocketing it. “No can do, sweetheart. Now, I don’t really wanna have to ask again, yeah?”

You only gape at him for a moment longer before snapping your mouth shut and positioning yourself above his lap again. “F-fine. Jesus,” you mutter angrily, finding that the irritation you’re feeling is starting to spur you on as you begin to move again, feeling yourself turned on by Joel’s musk in your space, the heat of his body radiating towards yours in this close proximity. Not to mention you can sense just how turned on he is, how much this is affecting him as you move with more conviction, hips delicately swinging in front of him. If he wants a show, you’ll give him your best yet, you think with determination.

“F-fuck… attagirl,” Joel lets slip when you brush his crotch with your ass. He’s barely holding it together with your curves swaying tantalizingly in front of him, something even his wildest dreams likely couldn’t have conjured up. He’d never think he’d see you like this - so sensual, so fucking gorgeously in control of your sexual aura that it could make a man lose control. Your customers were beyond lucky, he thinks with a pang of jealousy shooting through him, making his blood boil hotter, his possessive side come out. While he’d been at home pining over you, thinking about you with a hand stroking his own cock, you’d been here - rubbing your pretty ass on all those lucky fucks and their undeserving crotches.

The thought makes him insane, the image of you doing this to any other man, so when you lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest, your ass just beginning to grind on his jeans, his hands go to your hips instinctively trying to bring you down onto him, to claim you. You slow your movements to a stop, leaning your head back towards his ear so that you’re almost entirely pressed against him now.

“Not s-supposed to touch,” you say, you voice the only thing giving away just how nervous you still are.

“Don’t fuckin’ care, if I’m honest,” Joel huffs back quietly, his voice husky and breathless. You bite back a moan as his rough hands wrap around each side of your waist tightly and help guide you that last inch downwards, sending your ass fully rolling over his crotch.

“H-holy shit…” you whimper when you feel the rough denim brush along the outside of your panties. You feel a flush run through you, your skin burning hot as you realize you won’t be able to hide how wet you’ve gotten for very long. It began slowly, just with his brooding, questioning eyes on you, now reaching a fever pitch as you’re in his space and feeling the prominent bulge in his pants.

It’s been far too long since you were satisfied. Truly satisfied.

Your breath catches as Joel fingers wiggle inward a little after hearing how much you’re getting into it, even closer to the waistband of your panties, the two of you facilitating the grinding motion together as you bear down a little more on his lap. Joel lets out a pleased hum, still somehow giving you the sense that he’s the one holding back now. His hands still have an air of respect to them, like they’re vibrating with the need to wrap completely around you and pull you to him, to roam your skin and grab at all the forbidden parts of you.

When the thought flashes across your mind, you realize you want him to.

“T-touch me…” you whisper, immediately clamping your betraying mouth shut as the words float out into the air. You hold your breath, waiting to see if Joel heard you.

“What’s that, gorgeous? Couldn’t quite hear you,” Joel says, his tone a low, mocking sound that tells you he’s baiting you, that he wants to play with his food before eating it. Your eyes narrow before they shut completely, rolling back when he forces your ass to move along his bulge again.

“F-fu- touch me,” you spit out a bit louder. “Please.”

“You poor thing,” you hear him tut from behind you, forcing your hips upwards and away before grasping onto your hands, turning you around to face him. “Can’t get us in trouble now, can we?” he asks tauntingly, his eyes giving you a heated staredown as they widen, almost looking sympathetic if there wasn’t so much of an appetite behind them.

You whimper, visibly whining as your face screws up, squeezing his hands with yours. Joel tugs, so lightly that you’d almost think it was your own idea as you start to come back down towards him, pressing the warmth between your legs against his thigh. You sigh shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly swing one leg over top of his and bear down a little more, straddling his thigh.

“We w-won’t… we won’t…” you breathe out, knowing it’s not the complete truth, but room seven is especially tucked back, hardly getting any traffic. In fact, it was known for bending the rules a bit.

“She’s so needy, huh? You all wet for me, sweetheart, that it? She need a little relief?” Joel taunts, and when you open your eyes to meet his gaze, he’s practically pouting. Your cheeks burn at how desperate he’s making you sound, but your hips twitch of their own accord, sending a zing of pleasure up your spine and you whimper quietly again, giving yourself away even further.

“Y-yes, Mr. Miller…”

“Keep on doin’ your little dance, pretty girl, jus’ right there,” Joel urges you, a hand finding the small of your back, the other locked onto your hip as you start to rock forward, then back again. Relief instantly floods you as your clit brushes against the ripples in the hard denim, making you move harder against him, mouth popped open in fresh ecstasy.

“Close that mouth before I shove somethin’ in it, you fuckin’ tease,” Joel grits out, his eyes burning wildly, finally giving you a glimpse at how affected he is as he keeps his stare on your face, starting to sheen with sweat. Your mouth snaps shut, a stifled moan pulling from your throat and behind your closed lips, threatening to burst out of you.

“This ain’t against the rules? Havin’ a pretty girl ride my thigh?” he asks in cruel teasing, flickering eyes glancing down to where your hips are shamelessly rocking on him.

“I- I don’t - know-“ you choke out, your legs starting to tremble as the pleasure slowly, steadily builds deep inside of you. “I d-don’t care…”

“Riiight, she’s on her rebellious streak now, ain’t she?” Joel mutters facetiously, smiling a devious grin as he watches your face screw up in concentration. You truly don’t care, you can’t care anymore when whatever the hell is going on feels so good. Damn this job, damn Joel’s games, you’re going to get what you need out of this right now, too. Your head is thrown back as your whines and moans escalate, showing Joel just how close you’re getting.

“That’s it, god you’re beggin’ for it, ain’t you? So dirty…” Joel’s hands grip tighter along your hips, starting to drag you inwards, towards his aching, clothed bulge. “Beggin’ for your daddy’s friend's cock while you make a mess all over his thigh, aren’t you? Who would’ve thought a good girl like you’d be wantin’ to get fucked by an old man?”

His words make you clench around nothing, the harsh tone making your insides twist in pleasure as you roll your hips a little faster. “F-fuck… I - I need to - Mr. Miller -” you plead aimlessly, feeling your core tightening, the obscene wetness driving you to full on madness as your pussy aches, cries out for Joel.

Your leg is being dragged over top of him, forcing you to fully straddle his lap, thighs stretched wide and burning at how wide you’re going to accommodate his huge frame. You’re in disbelief at the rough, needy noise Joel makes as soon as your cunt is pulled down onto him, Joel’s hands forcing your hips to start thrusting against him. You nearly lose your balance, wrapping your arms around his neck to hang on as he looks at you with determination. Hands planted firmly on your ass, squeezing hard as he relishes in the feel of finally having you like this, feeling your warm heat seeping through his denim right to where he’s desperate to have you most.

“Joel,” he corrects in his haze, stunting your hips to press down hard on his cock, sending a gasp flying out of your mouth at the sheer size of what’s to come. Your mouth is practically watering, so close to what your body craves now, what it needs. When your fingers graze the button of his jeans, he stiffens, seeming to snap out his lustful fog as he swats your hand away.

“Fuck… later,” Joel says suddenly, using every bit of self restraint to push you back, moving your heat from his bulge, the instantaneous lack of you devastating him to the core.

Your brows quickly knit in confusion at the sudden change in course. “W-why…?” you whisper breathlessly, bringing your lips near his neck, kissing the rough skin, working your way up to his patchy, gray flecked beard. His hand is at the back of your head, yanking you backwards by the hair, tearing your lips off of him in a brutal rush. He holds you there, the pull on your scalp starting to prickle harder as you sit staring at him like a tamed animal being held up by its scruff.

“Can’t fuck you properly in here. Too many fuckin’… people. Prying eyes wantin’ to see what all the fuss is about.”

“I-I can be quiet,” you retort, hating just how much it sounds like begging but the hold he has on you right now is so intense, so inexplicable that you’d say anything, you think.

Joel huffs, a tiny, incredulous snort coming out of his nose. “No, you can’t. Not if I’m doin’ what I plan on doin’ to you. We can’t have anyone come snoopin’, can we?”

You shake your head, suddenly wondering if he’s about to drag you out of here, take you home to his bed, or your bed, you think with a shudder. You feel a pull inside your belly, thinking you just might let him if you don’t get your head back on straight soon.

“An’ you still gotta work the rest of your shift, make your money, don’t you babydoll?” Joel says with a smirk growing, making your face fall completely into a deep frown. “Call it a little punishment for bein’ such a bad, naughty girl, yeah? Then you can finish up givin’ me my piece of the pie.”

You find yourself gaping at him for the umpteenth time tonight in disbelief. He wasn’t going to just leave you… like this? Was he? You can feel your clit pulsing against your panties, your body tense and wound up, on the precipice of coming so hard you saw stars only a few moments ago.

“Up, now,” Joel says, shifting his legs so that you’re forced to move, scrambling up onto your shaky legs, feeling like a newborn fawn getting your footing again.

“W-wait… I already - didn’t I… give you what you want?” you ask, suddenly feeling yourself snapping out of the heady, lust filled haze Joel had you in. This was insane, right? You can’t fuck him, you shouldn’t. It wasn’t right for either of you, and you’d been crazy to have just been this close to letting him stuff you full.

Joel’s head tilts, watching your slightly messy hair and smudged makeup for a few beats with a discerning gaze. “Nah, darlin’, you just gave me what I paid for. This is what I want.”

Your heart and stomach sink to new depths. “N-no. Joel! You said… if I gave you the lap dance you wouldn’t tell my dad. And I gave you a hell of a lot more than that -” Joel stands, interrupting you, coming forward and crowding your space, his hulking mass like a tower next to you, shadowing you with his commanding energy.

“Watch your mouth,” he snips, a hand gripping onto your wrist. “I’m the one callin’ the shots here, an’ I changed my mind once I saw just how pretty that sweet little pussy of yours can be. So here’s what’s gonna happen…” Joel’s fingers come up to ghost along your cheek, trailing down your neck, along the swells of your breasts as he speaks. You can’t help but shudder at the attention, how good it feels on your sensitive, needy skin.

“You go on out there, tell ‘em what a great job you did in here, work the rest of your shift like a good girl, thinkin’ about just how fuckin’ wet you got these pretty panties, how bad she needs a little help from Mr. Miller.”

Your breath is caught in your throat at his words, hitching further as his touch skates further down, sending your hips twitching forward.

“An’ I’ll be waitin’ for you after, darlin’, for what I’m owed.”

Your heart pounds as you slip out the side door and into the alleyway, pausing to let the cool night air wash over you as you gather your thoughts. Your mind is at war with itself, one half of you knowing this is a terrible idea, setting you up for complete disaster in the future. How could you ever face Joel again if you two took it that far? Then again, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to face him in the daylight already, anyways, without your cheeks burning so hot they caught fire. The other half of you was winning, had been winning as you worked the rest of your shift in a complete daze, hardly recognizing your own movements as your body burned hot and needy, mind completely scrambled by the conundrum of your father’s closest friend coming onto you and more.

You spent the rest of your shift coming to terms with the fact that you do want to fuck him. So badly. Even if it’s wrong, a complete mistake in every single way. You also know your mind isn’t to be trusted right now, running on pure horniness and desperation, never having been fucked in the way you know Joel could. His experience, his power, the way his lustful eyes had drank you in like the sweetest balm - it was all too hard to turn down. You turn, looking the opposite way down the alleyway from your car, starting to think you might be able to sneak around the block and get in your car and drive off without him noticing, wondering exactly where he’s waiting for you. You don’t see a soul, hear anyone else in this alley apart from the distant music from inside and chatter from along the main street which is a far cry from where the employee exit to Oasis dropped you.

You take the risk, heart thrumming wildly as you start down the alley, saying a silent apology to Joel in your head, and then yourself for letting this secret come out, knowing Joel was definitely not bluffing if you didn’t follow through on your end of the deal. Better to face punishment from your father than have to deal with the consequences of fucking his best friend and facing the feelings that would come after. You’re only halfway down the alleyway before a warm, rough hand is slapped against your mouth and an arm is draped around your middle and tugging you backwards. A wall of muscle meets you and you whimper loudly behind the hand, starting to yell.

“Shh, shh, no screamin’,” the voice coos, distinctly recognizable. Shit.

“Tryna sneak off on me, huh, pretty girl?” Joel says next to your ear, his neck craning down to breathe you in, groaning. It’s so feminine, so light and soft, the faded scent of your perfume and body wash makes him instantly mad with need for you. His hand slips down, giving your lips some room to answer now that you’ve stopped fighting him, leaning back into his hold a little more.

“N-no,” you choke out, lying. “S-swear.”

“Didn’t change your mind? Want me to send those pretty pictures to your daddy?” Joel coos, starting to walk you towards the brick wall of the building, pushing your body forwards until you’re pressed against the cool, scratchy surface. You hold back a moan when his body leans into you fully, completely dominating you as you’re at his mercy against the wall.

“I j-just d-don’t think we should -” you utter half heartedly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, fearing what might come next after your suggestion.

“Why’s that?” he asks, dripping with condescension. “Seemed you couldn’t wait to get stuffed full of me not too long ago, yeah?”

“I-it’ll be weird after, w-won’t it? How can we… be around my dad? How can you?” You finally find your voice, your bravery, to ask him the question you’d been thinking the entire night.

A small chuckle blows past the side of your head from where Joel’s mouth sits against your head. “Think we both learned tonight I’m willin’ to keep a secret,” he says, his voice getting more harsh, a needy coarseness to it that sends goosebumps along your skin. Joel feels a frenzy overcoming him when he notices your thighs clenching, how shallow and wanting your breaths are becoming now. He can’t wait much longer… can’t stand the torture he’s endured at your sweet teasing for a second longer.

“I-I want it…” you finally say in a harsh whisper, your resolve faded within seconds. Your ass ruts back into his hardness, an ache that hadn’t subsided in the least in the last hours as he waited for you. Patiently. Like he had already been all of these months.

“You know I’m gonna ruin anyone else f’you, darlin’, don’t you?” he asks as his lips trace along your shoulder, now clad in a tank top that you’d changed back into. The bits of bare skin he touches taste like heaven, feel almost unbearably soft and inviting against his plush lips. He couldn’t possibly deserve any of this, but he couldn’t help but take it, anyhow. He could pay for his sins later. Your neck is next on his list, another supple spot of heaven to taste as he mutters the words again. “Don’t you?”

You just nod at first, dumbstruck by the feel of his lips, turning your head to try to meet them. “Yes,” you tell him softly, knowing it’s the truth, and there isn’t a turning back from this moment anymore. His lips are suddenly all there is, devouring your own whole as he takes in bounds, your tongues and teeth and mouths in a desperate clash, panting into one another as Joel starts to tug at your jeans, fingers flying desperately to tear them down.

You let him.

The second he’s pushing into you, you see bright white flash across your vision - that pulse of pain shooting through the very fabric of your being, your nerves lit up and screaming out from deep inside of you. Joel’s groan is barely audible through the ringing in your ears as he doesn’t stop, finding solace in your tight heat when he pushes himself into you in full. It’s heaven incarnate, you are heaven incarnate, he thinks, practically panting out the words as he feels your wet tightness pulling him in, walls pulsing as you adjust to the sheer volume that is Joel. Your cheek is crushed against the brick, mouth propped open in shock, the rough scrape on your face the only thing keeping you grounded as you whine out a long, wanton sound, something completely foreign to you.

“So… fuckin’... dumb on this cock,” Joel utters as he starts to move, a slow drag of his cock out and back in before he makes good on his promise to ruin anyone else for you, to never have a comparison to the blinding pleasure you feel rocking your entire universe as he quickly ruts into you. “Fuckin’ heaven.”

“J- fuck -” you stutter out, completely speechless. When one arm wraps around you, finding your clit, needy and puffy from hours of torturous edging, everything else melts away. The dark alley, the fact that you could be seen at any moment, the way you weren’t even sure you trusted Joel to keep your secret despite you following through on your end - none of it fucking mattered anymore.

“W-wanted this so bad, y’don’t know what you do to a man, sweetheart… Jesus fuck,” Joel says, uncharacteristically soft as his hips roll, sending your own bouncing onto his hurried fingers swirling along your clit. Desperation clings to the both of you now, hot and heavy air, hurried movements like this could be torn away from the two of you any second.

“Joel… I’m fu- I’m close, so close, please…” you rush out, feeling a pull of warmth at your center, his cock brushing along just the right spot to send you to that edge. You start to moan louder, the noise echoing in the open space around the two of you, your hand hurriedly slapping over your mouth to muffle it as the high starts to rock through you. His name screams from behind your hand, the sound still clear enough to send Joel to a state of crazed fervor, thrusting into you at an impossible pace, sending you bouncing harder against the wall. You twitch and shake, your eyes rolling back as you come harder than you have in months, maybe ever. Just like he’d promised, the absolute bastard.

“Fuckin’ creamin’ on this cock, shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” Joel marvels breathlessly as the obscene squelching of your bodies meeting only gets louder. “Oh, good girl, such a pretty, messy slut for a dirty old man, aren’t you?”

“G-god, yes, fuck… I am…” you whimper out with flustered nods, completely spent as you come down from your high, letting Joel use your cunt to chase his own now. You twitch at the overstimulation, your body still tingling pleasantly as he turns you into his own personal fuck toy, your body his for the taking.

“Pretty as a picture, all fucked out like this,” he says slyly one hand planted on the wall next to you now, the other playing lazily with your aching clit. “Never gonna be able to give me up now, are you?”

You shake your head, lost in the moment with your answers as you feel another orgasm washing over you, less intense but still pleasant waves of pleasure rolling through while you gasp for breath, completely full of Joel each time he thrusts heartily into you, stealing away your air.

“Please… c-can’t…” you mumble through your climax, hardly able to take the stimulation anymore but knowing the sick little part of your brain is happy to do it for him, let him use you until he’s completely spent himself.

You don’t have to wait much longer for your wish, hearing Joel grunting, almost whimpering when he’s suddenly gone from you with a wet, slick pop, leaving you cavernous empty. He barely makes it out of you before his hand grips his cock, twitching in his palm as he comes towards the ground right in between your legs, ropes of cum coating your pulled down jeans and underwear, the brick wall, the pavement below you. His forehead is pressed to your back, sticky and hot as he catches his breath for a silent beat.

You’ve never felt anything like this, this satisfaction, this pure unadulterated filthiness and pleasure. The addiction already grips you, your poor, sore cunt already anticipating the next time he could ruin you.

But then it hits you like a train, pulling you out of your reverent little bubble - this can’t happen again. It’s out of your system, out of his, and now you both have a secret to keep. You start to pull your pants up, the movement seeming to bring Joel to his senses, reaching down along with you.

“Sh-shit, here, let me,” he says in a rasp, tugging your jeans up, the immediate feeling of wetness sticking to your body and making you cringe. “Little souvenir for ya,” he comments cockily, knowing his cum is now sticking to your skin, knowing that thought will sustain him for at least the next few hours. But that’s wishful thinking, he realizes, knowing that he could find himself buried in you the entire night, over and over again, considering hauling you away to do just that when you interrupt his thinking.

“I- I’m sorry…” you mutter, not even fully sure of why you even say it. For some reason, you are sorry that you put the two of you in this position, even if it ended in something so incredible that you have a hard time even putting it into words.

Joel spins you to face him, thumbing your chin and pinching it, bringing your face to look him in the eyes. They look a little softer than they had inside the club, more like the neighbor you’ve come to know. So charming and disarming when he wants to be.

“Don’t be,” he says, leaning down to kiss you more gently than he had before, something tender and sweet that you find yourself immediately falling for, body melting into his as you hang your arms around his neck, wondering when along the way you started feeling so comfortable with this.

“Besides,” Joel adds, a devious smirk pulling his lips upwards. “Your daddy ain’t home for a few more days. Think we can find a few more ways to convince me to keep your little secret.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #x reader

2K notes · View notes

authorhjk1 · 1 month ago

Note

Can you write colours series with this pic? She looks so innocent but obedient😋

https://www.instagram.com/p/C8OnZW0Pnod/?igsh=b2dnbmloODFtaWg=

White

(Sullyoon X Male Reader)

You don't even remember who started it. It kinda just happened. This attraction between you and Sullyoon felt like first love, but without the love part. It is weird to explain. Maybe first lust would be a proper description?

The first time you met each other, you couldn't help but appreciate her beautiful face and her amazing body. She carried herself in a certain way, which almost made you addicted to her. And Sullyoon seemed to have felt the same thing for you during your very first time meeting. Which was four months ago.

It was basically the perfect setup for a wild sex story you'd tell your friends after a steamy hot vacation. That random girl you'd probably never see again, but you'd fuck each other's brains out for weeks. And none of your friends would believe you.

There was only one thing that was separating you and Sullyoon. That is still separating you and her. And that thing is your girlfriend. Haewon. Or rather, it was separating the two of you up until a minute ago.

Your lips are now pressed against Sullyoon's, her tongue deep inside your mouth, dancing with yours. She stepped into Haewon's room as soon as her leader left to take a shower. Now she's sitting in your lap, her fingers almost tearing at your clothes.

"Every night I dream about you."

Her whispered words are laced with lust and desire.

"I need you to take me the way you take her."

You don't answer, your hands roaming her petite frame. You don't want to talk about Haewon right now. You only have eyes for Sullyoon's body. For her perky tits, her toned midriff and her firm, but cute butt.

"Please. I'm begging you."

Her voice grows more desperate with every passing second. You can relate. Four months of abstinence. Four months of not acting on your desire, your nature, your will.

"Make a mess of me. Just this one time."

Sullyoon's lips have moved from your own to your neck.

"She doesn't have to know."

She whispers those last words directly into your ear.

Taking a deep breath, you hear the shower running. She will take at least 15 more minutes. Not enough time for you to do all the things you want to do. But just enough to do the most important one.

Sullyoon finds herself pinned against Haewon's room's wall. Her hands fumble for your belt, while you keep attacking her neck with kisses and bites. Soon, your pants slide down your legs. Your underwear follows a second later. You reach underneath the white fabric that hides her gorgeous body from your eyes.

Your fingertips graze her wet panties. After quickly pulling them halfway down, you hold onto her waist and lift Sullyoon off the ground. Pressing her back against the wall, you align your cock with her pussy. She nods, giving you permission as she bites her lip.

"Please. Just this once."

Her eyes tell you that this won't be the last time. They tell you that you'll be all over each other from now on. Whenever Haewon looks away, the two of you will the seize the opportunity.

"O-Oppa...."

Sullyoon whines, your cock finally penetrating her pussy. She's longed for this every night since she met you. Has touched herself everytime, hearing you fucking Haewon.

Now she feels how you fill her up completely. How your length makes her walls tighten around you.

"Yes, so good."

She sighs, her hands locked behind your neck.

Sullyoon looks into your eyes as you begin to nail her into the wall behind her. Moan after moan leaves her lips. The shower hopefully louder than the sound of you fucking your girlfriend's bandmate.

"Oppa, your cock is so big."

Sullyoon whines into your ear as she holds on tightly. Your steady pace, the taboo of you cheating, the pent up desire for each other... It all quickly proves too much for you and Sullyoon.

After barely ten minutes, your arms start to burn. Your and her breathing is too fast and unsteady. Her pussy, tightly wrapped around your cock, makes you want to breed her more with every passing second.

"I'm going to cum inside."

You half groan, half whisper into her ear.

Sullyoon nods vigorously.

"Please, oppa. Whatever you want. Just-"

Her breath hitches you let her fall onto your cock once more.

"Just make me feel good."

You capture her lips with yours as you close your eyes. After a couple of seconds, you finally don't hold back anymore. You orgasm inside Sullyoon. Your cum floods her pussy as you keep making her bounce up and down.

"Yes, oppa! So good!"

Her moans are louder now, almost too loud.

When the both of you calm down, you let Sullyoon stand on her own two feet again. You rest your forehead against hers.

"I can't go another lonely night without you, oppa."

She steals another kiss from you.

"I'll come over as soon as she's sleeping."

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #nmixx smut #haewon nmixx #nmixx sullyoon #nmixx

432 notes · View notes

ckret2 · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 76 of human Bill Cipher not looking much like the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he's just vibing on the porch: Mabel's riding high on the success of making Bill two whole friends, Ford's dealing with curses... and let's see how that camera got cursed in the first place.

####

Mabel asked, "What about Aaron Laarson?"

"I don't know," Candy said, "Aaron is cute, but he isn't a very good dancer. That's very important to me in a teen pop idol."

"He's a really good actor, though," Grenda said. "You should see him in Hot Models 2: Runway Boogaloo!" Candy looked thoughtful.

They'd spent the last thirty minutes chattering, with Grenda and Candy sitting on Bill, who was now laying his upper body on the couch cushion he'd been assaulted with earlier but otherwise hadn't moved. To all appearances, Bill was sound asleep—he even breathed like he was asleep—but every once in a while, he'd pipe up with something like, "Don't get too attached to Aaron Laarson. He's dying in a kayaking accident next summer."

Grenda groaned in disappointment. Candy said, "He should have spent that time practicing dancing instead of kayaking."

Mabel caught movement in the corner of her eye, and started when she saw Ford and Dipper. "Uh oh. I didn't expect them to come in on this side of the house."

Across the clearing, Ford shouted, "Mabel, what the devil is he doing outside with—!"

Mabel shouted, "It's okaaay, I got permission from Grunkle Staaan, I love yooou!"

Ford hesitated. "Well... if Stan okayed it."

Dipper looked at Mabel and her camera. Mabel looked at Dipper and his camera. They immediately started making the stupidest faces they could at each other's cameras. "Hey," Mabel said, "did you find the nightwigglies? It looks like they found yooou!"

Dipper self-consciously tugged up the vest he was using like a makeshift skirt. "We did! It was so great, we recorded some kind of ritual dance, how they make babies—" At Grenda's outburst of "Ewww!" he quickly clarified, "Not—not in a gross way—and we saw some kind of Nightwiggler god! It was amazing!"

"Wow! That's great!" Mabel said. "We summoned a demon and almost died."

"What?"

"By the way!" Mabel waved her camera at Ford. "Grunkle Ford, I kiiinda used your cursed camera by accident. Could you please uncurse the tape so I can keep the episode I filmed tonight? Goldie said the magic thingy he stuck on it will only keep it tame as long as the tape's in the camera."

"That's because it's technically the tape itself that's cursed, not the camera." Ford wondered if Bill had led Mabel to the camera.

"Can you uncurse it, though?"

"I think so. I'll see what I can do." Ford took the camera from Mabel. He decided not to comment on the girls' interesting makeup choices.

Bill opened one eye a sliver as he felt Ford and Dipper step on the porch, saw Ford's bare calf over his boot, and cracked up. "What happened to your pants! Did you try to join the Hokey Pokey?"

Ford gave Bill a withering look—caught sight of Bill's mismatched tween-girl-pencil-case/airbrushed-hot-rod eyeshadow, and laughed in surprise. "What happened to your face?"

"Aren't I beautiful?" Bill asked, lacing his hands under his chin (and making Ford snort again when he spied the multiple nail extensions on one hand). "Go on! Tell me I'm beautiful. I know I am."

"You're..." Ford was keenly aware that Mabel and her friends were probably behind this makeover, "...certainly colorful."

"Stanford, you flatterer!" Bill cackled.

Dipper headed inside, yawning. "I'm gonna... go to sleep or something."

That was a good idea; but Ford was hesitant to go in. He was loath to trust Bill unsupervised alone with a couple of vulnerable children, with no one to keep him in check but another child he'd already manipulated into helping him escape once.

But who was Ford to judge. Bill had manipulated him into helping him escape, too. He supposed Mabel could handle him as well as anyone else.

Grenda said, "I think we should watch Hot Models 2 anyway! It's got lots of cute boys! And girls, I guess." She turned to Bill. "Hey, do you like girls or boys?"

"Sometimes," Bill said. "Sure, I'm up for it. It's a pretty good satire of Big Fashion and I like the runway fight scene with the big light show."

To Ford, all Bill seemed to be doing was talking about movies, wearing stupid makeup, and being a chair for a couple of kids. It was so... normal.

It was something a person would do.

Ford made himself go inside. Maybe he'd start work on uncursing that tape for Mabel before he went to bed.

####

Bill had written a magic-negation seal on the back of a crumpled Mystery Shack receipt and attached it to the camcorder with an X of clear tape. Ford had only used that seal twice in his life. Once, thirty years ago, when Bill had taught it to him. And once last fall, when Ford had attempted to draw it in the Book of Bill to prevent its anomalous effects. Bill's book had absorbed the seal into its page until it disappeared—then burped. At least the symbol still seemed to work on the camcorder.

Ford tried to rewind the tape to the beginning; something inside the camcorder caught and made a nasty sound. He grimaced and hit the stop button. That wasn't good. He carefully peeled off the magic-negation seal, popped the cassette tape out of the camera, and examined it.

He pushed up the cassette's guard panel, but where there should have been a strip of magnetic tape running beneath it, there was nothing. The tape must have snapped. As he tried to inspect the damage, the cassette jumped and rattled in his hand, trying to snap the guard panel shut on his finger like it wanted to bite him.

"Stop that," Ford chided. "I'm trying to repair you." Would it listen? In his experience, objects animated by this particular curse tended to be consistently hostile. He might need to re-seal it.

To his surprise, the tape settled down sedately on his desk. That was more like it.

"Can you unreel the damaged ends of your tape?" If it could, that would save him the effort of disassembling the thing entirely.

After a short pause, the cassette flipped up its guard panel and extended two ends of broken tape.

"Thank you."

It looked like something had... burned? melted the tape? But what? The video cassette's casing was completely undamaged, how had something managed only to burn the tape inside?

Ford snipped off the damaged ends of the tape, used a little strip of masking tape to connect them back together, and carefully rewound the tape a few seconds with a pen. This was only a temporary repair; he'd have to transfer the contents of this cassette to an undamaged one. Mabel would probably want it digitized so she could make her video, too. But watching a few seconds wouldn't destroy it; and he wanted to know whether the camera had recorded whatever damaged the tape.

He carefully removed the smallest of Project Mentem's undamaged monitors, moved it to his worktable, plugged in a VHS-C player, and slid the cassette in.

As he started to play back the recording—the first thing on the screen was one of Mabel's terrified-looking friends—the monitor trembled and jumped, banging heavily as it landed back on Ford's worktable.

"Oh, behave." Ford peeled the magic-negating seal off the camcorder and slapped it on the TV. It immediately stilled. Some gratitude for repairing that tape.

When Ford turned his attention back to the screen, Mabel's friend's face had been replaced by Bill's, his curls filling the edges of the screen.

"Gold-O! You came back!" "Hey, Grend-O. Sorry for the wait..."

As Ford watched, Bill grappled with the camera, eventually managed to get a grip on it, and stared it down with nearly enough fury to make Ford forget the goofy eyeshadow. "Now let's get this straight. Everything beneath this shack's roof is my domain and under my protection! If you want to hurt anyone here—you'll have to get through m—"

The scene cut straight to Mabel's face as it skipped over the damaged section he'd had to cut out. "Welcome back to Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers! Weee're—"

Ford stopped the tape. Huh.

Huh.

####

As soon as Candy and Grenda were gone, Mabel flung her arms around Bill. "Thank you for being nice to my friends," she said. "Especially Grenda. I'm so glad you liked them both after all!"

Liked them? He'd been a charming host to them, but. "Did I?"

"Yes," Mabel informed him firmly. "You did."

Well, he figured he must've, then. And Grenda had grown on him. She'd complimented his eyes, she admired gross things, she had very intelligent opinions on amphibians in general and axolotls in particular... "Hey, any friend of my friend is a friend of mine!"

"That's so much better than what I was trying to say." Mabel let go of him, beaming. "Wanna hang out with them again sometime?"

"Sure!" Bill said, shrugging. "We still have to watch some dumb action comedy movies."

"Great! I'll let them know the next sleepover's over here!" She ran upstairs.

Calling her friends to arrange the next sleepover before they'd even gotten home. Yeah—that was generally how Bill planned his parties, too.

Looked like his social circle for the foreseeable future consisted of three little girls. Wasn't ideal, but he could work with that. He'd always liked getting invited to girls' nights. And maybe at future sleepovers he could talk the kids into some real fun. When they weren't trying to keep quiet, he knew, they fed off each other's chaos. And he was sure there was a budding pyromaniac lurking in Candy's heart.

####

Ford nodded as he passed Stan in the entryway. "Just getting up?"

"Yep. Just going to bed?"

Ford shrugged ruefully. "Afraid so. We got some terrific footage last night, though."

"Oh, yeah? Anything sellable?"

"That's up to Dipper, but I think there's good potential. Bare minimum, I'd bet some cryptozoology documentaries would be interested in his findings."

"Hey, all right! Not bad for a night's work." Stan passed by, headed for the bathroom.

And Ford almost headed on to the guest bedroom—but, reluctantly made himself turn toward the kitchen.

Bill was sitting at the table, sipping at a can of cider with an empty one already on the table in front of him, staring out the window at the morning. He didn't usually drink that heavily this early; it probably meant he was heading to bed soon. The girls must have kept him up all night. Dipper had regaled Ford with tales of what Mabel's sleepovers were like.

"Bill."

"Hm?"

He should have gotten straight to business. Instead, he said, "I watched some of Mabel's video from last night."

Bill glanced over at him. (He still had that ridiculous makeup.) "Oh, yeah?"

Under my protection. Did he consider himself the household's guardian—or its owner? "I..." Ford cleared his throat. "I wondered about—the symbol you painted on your hand to disable the camera. That part of the tape melted, and—I assume it was light-activated, which means it must be different from the seal I already know, so...?"

Bill's face had immediately closed off. He turned away. "You're not my student."

Ford was surprised at how much that felt like a slap to the face. He should have been glad—he'd finally managed to get Bill to agree with what he'd been telling him all summer—but he hadn't expected Bill to ever give up. (He hadn't expected Bill to ever change.)

But he probably hadn't really given up. No doubt he was giving Ford the cold shoulder to see if he begged Bill's forgiveness.

"No. I suppose I'm not." He trudged into the kitchen, rummaged in his coat pocket, and dropped a leather pouch on the table. "Anyway, I'm just here to drop this off."

Bill reached for it, stopped himself, and warily asked, "What is it?"

"The rest of my nutrition pills from my interdimensional travels." When he'd lost his trench coat to the lake during the eclipse last week, he'd had to dig out the old tattered one he'd worn during his travels, and he'd happened to find his pills at the same time. It had occurred to him to bring them up while he was working on Mabel's tape. They were tricky to synthesize, but they lasted forever and the ingredients could be found in almost any dimension—whether there was anything otherwise edible for humans or not.

Bill eyed him suspiciously; but he opened the pouch's snap and peeked into the resealable plastic bag. They didn't look like "pills" so much as small balls of incredibly dense dark brown bread, each about the size of a wad of bubblegum. "Whyyy?"

"To make up the difference in your diet until we figure out the food problem," Ford said. "They're formulated so that four a day meets a human's... well, meets my nutritional needs. I haven't looked into your..." vague gesture, "body... type."

"Is this your emergency stash?"

"It... was." Stan had persuaded Ford to get back onto normal food (as much of a waste of time as it was), but he still had this stash left.

"Why are you giving me your emergency stash."

"Because... I'm not having an emergency and you are?" It was better than a couple of avocados and some hot sauce. Honestly, he should have thought to go looking for his nutrition pills weeks ago. If he'd realized just how severe they'd made Bill's situation... or how stubborn Bill would be about asking for help... or that they'd ever plan to keep Bill around long enough that his nutrition would be an issue.

Bill squinted at him, and for a moment Ford thought he was about to start a fight for some insane reason; but then the air seemed to leak out of him, his shoulders sagged, and he just looked at the nutrition pills. "For starters, they'll need more than twice as much iron."

"That much?"

"And more vitamin D, I don't remember the numbers right now." He shut the pouch, sat back, and lifted his cider can again. "All right."

All right? Ford supposed that was all he was getting. He turned to go.

As he did, Bill said, "Bed?"

Ford glanced back. "Yes?"

"Fine," Bill said. "Have nightmares."

He couldn't help letting out a laugh. "Fine. You too."

"It's too late for you to start trying to sweet-talk me like that, Stanford Pines!" But he tilted his can toward Ford—cheers—chugged down the rest, and cracked open a third.

####

Dipper was already in bed when Mabel charged in. He rolled over slightly, saw she was still in her sleepover pajamas, and mumbled, "Going to sleep too?"

She rummaged around in the closet by the door. "I can't waste that kind of time!" She retrieved a shoe box full of the wooden models of the townspeople she'd crudely whittled last summer at a library arts & crafts program run by Wendy's dad. She dumped them out on the floor, and, for lack of a figure representing Bill, tore a corner off a stray sheet of notebook paper and drew his eye on it. "I've got to capitalize on last night's success!"

She snatched her pyramid prism off the windowsill and taped the paper eye on it. "Hey, you." She poked Bartholomew's cradle. "Why were you a big chicken in front of my friends?"

"What, with you waving that camera around?" Bartholomew said. "I didn't want it to know I have a soul to steal."

"You knew?! You jerk!" She gave the cradle a harder poke, rocking it slightly.

Dipper yawned. "Capitalize on what success? The demon summoning?"

"No! Helping Bill make two new friends!" Mabel sat on the floor, plopped the Bill prism down amidst the other wooden figures, and started setting them upright. Waddles waddled over to sniff at them.

"Oh." Dipper groaned and rolled back over.

"The next stage of his rehabilitation is expanding his social circle. Get him some normal friends that don't want to eat people or destroy moons or whatever!" She grabbed up the notebook paper again, tore it into sections, and wrote on each with the nearest gel pen: "Friends!!!" "Maybe" "NO" "Healthy ☆ Rivals" "♡ Potential dates? ♡" She added thoughtfully, "And maybe get him a love life. We had to chase off his last girlfriend."

Dipper groaned louder. "I don't wanna think about Bill dating. That dumb eye-bat was bad enough."

"She's not dumb, she's into avant-garde experimental films. And she watches them with subtitles. Bill said so." She placed her, Grenda's, and Candy's figures in the Friends section, tentatively placed Dipper halfway between Maybe and No after checking to make sure he wasn't watching, and then started scanning her collection for more likely friends. "Who in town do you think would date Bill Cipher?"

"Nobody. Everyone hates him."

She stuck Wendy and her gang in the "Friends!!!" section, she thought they were a safe bet. "Who do you think would date Bill if they don't know he's Bill?"

"Nobody." Dipper pulled his blanket over his head.

"Pbbt, don't be so negative! You've gotta believe in him." Blubs and Durland? They were probably his friends, right? She sorted them accordingly and added Lazy Susan to the "Maybe" section. "Just you watch. I'll have Bill reintegrated into society before the end of the summer!"

Mabel had picked out several more prospective friends for Bill before Dipper sighed, rolled over again, and said, "Why do you have to make friends for Bill?"

"Bro. Come on. When he's left to his own devices, he keeps talking about pulling people's veins out of their bodies or telling them secret information about their own childhoods. He's probably talking about something creepy right now."

####

"I'm telling you," Bill said, gesticulating emphatically with a cider can. "It works. Your cousins will never argue with you again, and you guarantee they'll be with you forever! It's the perfect way to permanently resolve family disputes!"

"I can see your logic," Stan said, grimacing. "However. I'm not eating my cousins."

"Not all your cousins," Bill insisted. "Just one, to send a message. You don't even need to eat the whole guy! Just half a limb or so. If you want to look like the bigger man, you can even let him choose which one."

Looking faintly nauseous, Stan shoved over his unfinished eggs and pancakes and stood. "What the heck was your home life like?"

"Oh, it was terrific. I was the family golden child." Bill dug into Stan's eggs. "I was everything your family hoped you'd be and was disappointed you weren't!"

"Was that before or after you started eating your cousins?"

"I didn't say I did it. That's your species' thing." Bill said, with a lofty tone that suggested moral superiority, "We'reinedible."

"Ha!" Stan shook his head. "You talk a big game for a guy who's never eaten one family member!"

Bill snapped the tab off his cider can and flipped it at Stan's head.

####

"He's delightful, but he's an acquired taste," Mabel said. "He just needs somebody else to help mediate when he meets new people! Like letting two cats sniff each other under the door!"

"Okay, but why you?"

She thought about that, staring at the pyramid representing Bill; then she shrugged. "Somebody has to."

"They really don't."

"Somebody should," Mabel insisted. "I just really want to see him make friends with everybody here. It's like... making it up to the town for hurting them last year."

"I think leaving them alone would work better. After what he did, he doesn't deserve to be friends with anyone in town—"

"It's important to me, okay?" Mabel snapped. "It just is."

What was that for? Did she think he was criticizing her for befriending him? He mumbled, "I didn't mean you."

She was quiet a moment. "I know."

"Sorry." Dipper was too tired for this conversation; he was just sticking his foot in his mouth. He yawned, muttered, "Good luck scheduling him a playdate, I guess," and rolled over.

####

After sleep and lunch, Ford returned to his study, set up a second blank video cassette to copy the damaged one's data, carefully rewound the damaged one all the way to the beginning, and watched it for the first time in over thirty years.

The recording was grainy and distorted now. It looked so old. This technology had been brand new when Ford had bought his video camera—so new that he'd had to order it from overseas, it hadn't been available in the United States yet. How quickly things changed.

The camera turned to take in Ford's own, younger, beaming face. "This is Dr. Stanford Pines, with the first of what will hopefully be many video recordings of the oddities in Gravity Falls." (In the present, Ford snorted.) "The subject of this first video is a series of magic symbols that, when combined, can animate inanimate objects. Any inanimate object."

He turned the camera around. Like a vampire's morbid pulpit, one of Ford's journals was laid open atop the lid of a black casket. Two heavy chains were laid across each side of the book and locked around the casket's handles to keep them tightly secured. A couple dozen pages in the middle of the book had been left free of the chains, but were pinned down by a cinderblock.

All the security measures were clearly needed; the book was thrashing in its restraints strongly enough to make the casket lid rattle. The visible text writhed across the journal's pages, words and symbols appearing and disappearing in the margins. The susurrations of the pages rubbing against each other sounded like the hissing of a trapped animal.

Ford tipped the cinderblock off the journal and pinned the pages down with his shoe instead. "Several days ago, a local director taught me the spell he used to animate clay figures for his movies. I'd thought perhaps he was creating golems, but aside from the superficial similarity of writing symbols to animate figures of mud, there doesn't seem to be any similarity between his ritual and any golem folklore I've ever heard. Furthermore, his creations are intelligent, capable of speech, and seem to remain loyal to their creator simply out of a passion for acting and respect for his directorial talents rather than any sort of magically-compelled loyalty." A wry note entered his voice. "And I can confirm that the spell itself certainly doesn't impart any loyalty."

The page below his foot erased itself and replaced the text with large, angry text: "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO EARN MY LOYALTY?! YOU DOG EAR MY PAGES! YOU USE ME AS A CHOPPING BOARD!"

"Wh—! Who do you think you are, a Sefer Torah?! Don't be so precious! You're made of faux leather and craft paper, I'll dog ear you all I want!" Ford snapped. "And I already apologized for the chopping board thing!"

The journal stopped moving. "My cover isn't real leather?"

"On my budget?! The closest you've ever come to real cow hide is visiting the Sprott farm!"

While the journal was stunned silent, Ford scooted his foot aside so the camcorder could see a symbol on the opposite page—one of the few bits of ink that didn't seem to shift around the journal's pages. "This is the symbol the director taught me. But it's only supposed to work if you perform an accompanying ritual to activate and power it, which I haven't." He reached down with a gloved hand to flip the loose pages over, then pinned them again under his shoe to let him record another symbol. "This symbol is supposed to power magical artifacts. I suspect writing both these sigils together in the same book has caused them to interact in unexpected ways. But, by themselves, these two are insufficient to bring a book to life—I experimented by copying them both into Journal 1—so perhaps some of the other symbols or spells written in Journal 2 are contributing to—"

"WHAT?!" Journal 2 angrily scrawled around the perimeter of the second symbol. "You tried to bring that teacher's pet to life?! What's wrong with ME!"

"You mean, besides your completely uncooperative attitude, reckless abuse of magic, and murder attempts?" Ford ignored the journal's angry "shouting" as he went on, "But until I figure out what the other symbols are, my... anonymous informant on the occult—"

"You don't mean Creature #326? Tell me it's not Creature #326!"

"—has taught me a sigil that should be able to reverse the effects of the animation spell—"

A series of magical sigils flashed across the journal's page and were quickly replaced by "HA-HA-HA!" The camera shuddered.

"What was that?!" Ford set the camera on the casket where it could watch as he tried to pin down Journal 2's fluttering pages and write on it. "We'll see who's laughing in a minute, you— Stop erasing what I write!" Ford tugged out a sticky note that had been serving as bookmark, hastily scribbled on it, and slapped it into the journal. "Ha!"

The book immediately fell still.

Ford grabbed up a tape dispenser from the floor, pulled off a short strip, and attached the sticky note more securely to the page. "Well. That was effective." He flipped through the journal. "Furthermore, it looks like all the changes Journal 2 made to itself have been reverted. Good. It defaced a lot of data I'd hate to have to reproduce..." As he spoke, the camera slowly rose into the air.

He turned to pick it up, flinched, and quickly got to his feet. "Oh! Uh. Hello."

"Hello," the camera echoed in Ford's voice.

"How did you...?" Ford smacked his forehead, eyes wide with amazement! "Of course! My recording! The symbols my journal wrote! This is fascinating. Recording the symbols on magnetic tape must be just as effective as writing them on paper, even if the symbols aren't visible without specialized equipment. I'll have to experiment with other methods of... of..." Ford petered off as the camera slowly floated higher. He held out a hand hopefully. "Please come back?"

"No," the camera said. "Please give me your soul."

"No." Ford took a deep breath, set Journal 2 on the casket, and flexed his fingers. "Okay. Let's do this again."

As the Ford of thirty-odd years ago wrestled with the camera on the TV screen, the much older Ford sighed. That had been fun. Exploring the bizarre and aberrant had still been fun, back then. That thought disconcerted him; was it no longer fun now? He supposed it still was to an extent. He was just worse at having fun. Harder to dazzle.

He wondered why Journal 2 had been so wary of Creature #326. Bill. It had been right, he was Ford's "anonymous informant"—Ford had told him about his hostile new living journal in a dream, and after Bill had finished laughing, he'd taught Ford how to counteract the spell activating it.

But how did it know?

Could it have warned him about Bill?

Ford would never find out now.

The TV went dark as, in the recording, Ford trapped the camera inside a box. Slightly muffled, Ford said, "Try getting out of that!" Under his breath, he muttered, "I think I prefer writing over narrating anyway."

The screen remained dark for another ten seconds as the camera bumped around and muttered to itself. And then it abruptly cut to a shot of Dipper's bed. Off-screen, Mabel's voice said, "Awesome, still works!" She set the camera on the table under the kids' window—

That was what Ford was looking for. He rewound several seconds and began transferring the recording of Mabel's sleepover onto a fresh tape he'd prepared earlier.

After that, maybe he'd go back to the start again so he could see the other symbols Journal 2 had flashed at the camera and copy them into Journal 5—onto a page already prepared with the magic-negating seal.

####

In the Nightmare Realm, a red book with a golden handprint on the cover boldly labeled "2" floated alone in the void, as it had since it had been tossed in the bottomless pit a year ago.

Its tattered pages were splayed open as it drifted weightlessly through the aether.

On one page near the center of the book, a sticky note with a seal drawn on it was attached to the page with a strip of tape, and surrounded by a warning never to erase the symbol on the sticky note.

The tape had lost its stick after decades buried outdoors; it stuck to the sticky note, but not to the book. The sticky note was barely holding on by a corner.

And as the book slowly wheeled through the void, the last corner peeled off, and the sticky note fluttered away.

Journal 2's pages rustled.

####

(I think y'all who have been keeping up with my posts about this fic know exactly what's coming next. 😎

Thaaat's right. 😎😎

An unrelated flashback chapter!!!

Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, let me know what you think!)

#mabel pines #dipper pines #(for the art)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the fic)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(Dec 12 edit: chapter has been renumbered)

618 notes · View notes

mrsdarkandyandere7 · 24 days ago

Text

Can we talk about a Pro-Hero Award ceremony / gala event and how it would be such a chaotic event, because it’s the only time of the year where all of the Pro-Heroes and their (un)willing darlings come out together in public.

Bakugo is 100% sure to spend the entire evening with a locked face and strong arm around his darling’s waist, not letting her out of his sight for one moment, regardless of how bad it looks.

As soon as the ceremony is officially over, Bakugo is dragging his darling back home, one hand tightly gripping her wrist while his other hand is busy handling the two awards he managed to win.

Shoto and his darling are wearing matching outfits and are probably one of the chillest couples in the event. They don’t argue or yell, and they spend most of the time intertwined in the dance floor as Shoto stares at her sweetly obsessed the whole time.

He also receives a very surprising congratulating cheek kiss when he wins an award, and his thank-you speech consists of 99% of him praising the support of his darling (she’s now warming up to him and he’s very happy with it).

Deku is a whole other story. He’s so stressed about the ordeal that he also ends up stressing his darling (RIP her mental health, seriously). At one point, he’s completely hunched over his darling in a corner, attempting to feed her some cake even though she vehemently refuses and, but he keeps insisting and insisting and insisting.

He also won’t stop blabbering and info dumping every piece of use(less)ful information as if she actually cares about the Pro Heroes that are present at the gala.

I also believe that - on a certain point - she snapped at Izuku, tired and exhausted from his annoying behavior, and some of the yandere's - Endeavour, Hawks, Bakugo - threw Izuku a condescending glare, cause none of them would ever allow their darling to direspect them like that, much less in public.

All Might and his darling are definitely one of the happiest couples in the room, seated at a table with other Pro-Heroes and he’s proudly boasting his darling and how sweet and amazing she is, while she shyly clings to his buffy bicep, hiding her face behind the strong muscle.

Sitting at a nearby table is Endeavour, upsettingly huffing and puffing because his darling isn’t yet at the right stage of obedience and submission that he had hoped to achieve and in result, he had no other option other than leaving her at home. The basement, to be specific. Not to mention that her rebellious attitude soured his mood earlier that day, which led to a nasty backhand he gave her before leaving the house in frustration.

And now the No.2 is pissed cause her deplorable behavior is ruining his meticulously built reputation and image. Endeavour is certainly going to take his frustration on her once he gets back home, that’s for sure.

Seated next to him is Hawks, wearing a smug smirk that fuel’s up as Endeavour’s irritation grows throughout the night. Keigo is definitely the type to perform excessively sweet and annoying PDA: kissing her, hugging, holding hands, feeding his darling, fussing over little details about her hair and make-up.

He’s so overwhelmingly affectionate (and loud) that his darling has to hide in the ladies room every 15 minutes, otherwise it gets too unbearable for her mentally sanity. But needless to say that there’s always a discreet red feather following her all the time.

Obviously, Eraserhead didn't bother putting on an appearance.

Whose darling do you think have the potential to cause some drama?

326 notes · View notes

milkywaygalaxygurl · 8 months ago

Text

Sleepy Whispers - Art Donaldson

Request: cuddling with art, I see him talking about his and reader's future, how he'd definitely be a girl dad and he'd totally spoil his little princess and just major fluff yk, art's getting sleepy and reader’s just playing with his hair

i really hope y’all like this one, i love writing this kind of fluff and i just know art would be the cutest in a situation like this:’)

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Female!Reader

Warnings: talk of starting a family, suggestive flirting, nothing else really lol this is just fluffy:)

Word Count: 663

Laying in bed with Art had to be one of your favorite things in the world. Especially when he’s sleepy like this, his usual clinginess amplified and his sleepy grins making you swoon. It was nice to see Art relaxed, it felt like he was always so focused on being an amazing tennis player that he often forgot to take a second to breathe and think about something else.

Seeing him like this, his head resting in your lap and his eyes shut in pure bliss made you fall even more in love with him. You’re staring down at him when his eyes open, his lips splitting into a cheeky grin. “What are you staring at?”

“My handsome and amazing boyfriend.” You pretend not to notice the way his cheeks tinge pink, but it has to be one of the most adorable things you’ve ever seen. He sits up from your lap and you whine, asking him where he’s going.

“Calm down, I just wanna look at you better.” He laughs, moving behind you. You squeal as he pulls you into his lap, slapping his chest when you’re finally settled and straddling him.

“You could’ve told me to move, you didn’t have to manhandle me.” You pout at him and he laughs, shaking his head.

“I thought you liked me manhandling you.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you gasp, swatting him on the chest again. He laughs, shaking his head at your dramatic reaction.

You stay like that for a while, admiring each other in a comfortable silence. Your hips eventually start to hurt from the way you’re sitting so, much to Art’s amusement, you flop beside him. He giggles as he turns on his side to look at you, a lovesick look in his eyes.

“Do you ever think of starting a family?” The question comes out of the blue, your eyebrows raising as you look at him.

“Honestly, yeah. Especially with you.” You say it sheepishly, your cheeks tinging pink at the admission.

“So you think about fuc-”

You cut him off before he can even finish speaking, “Art don’t you dare ruin this cute moment.” He laughs, throwing his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry. I think about starting a family with you too. We’d obviously have to get married first, but I definitely see that happening in the future.” His words make your heart flutter, you’d never really talked about this with Art before.

“How many kids would you want?” Your hand finds its way to his hair, your fingers brushing through the blonde locks. He hums softly, his eyes shutting.

“One or two, but I don’t care how many we have as long as we have a daughter.” His words make you chuckle and he halfway open his eyes to give you a questioning look.

“I’ve always imagined you as a girl dad when I would think about our future. I can see you spoiling her, making sure she has everything she could want and more. Playing dress up with her, going to daddy-daughter dances. You’d treat her like a little princess.”

He grins, nodding his head with his eyes still closed. “You’d be my queen and she’d be our princess. You guys wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.”

You can tell he’s nearly half asleep from the way he’s talking, his words slightly slurred. One of the many things you loved about Art is that he’d almost always be out like a light if you ran your fingers through his hair.

Before you can even open your mouth to respond, he’s snoring softly. You giggle, shaking your head. You shuffle closer towards him and he instinctively reaches out for you, pulling you into his chest. You close your eyes, a small smile on your face as you fantasize about the family you’d one day have with Art.

#art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson #art donaldson challengers #art donaldson x reader #challengers fanfic #challengers fic

885 notes · View notes

rafeyscurtainbangs · 4 months ago

Text

Frat Rafe Headcanons

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 warnings: Pet names, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, public sex, choking, jealousy, ownership kink, perv Rafe, recording sex, possessive, mentions of fighting, degradation

⭐️ republished ⭐️

Meeting Him…

Frat Rafe – Who first noticed you from across the lecture hall. Luckily for him, you were sitting next to a pledge who quickly switched seats the second Rafe gave him a hard look. He didn’t say a whole lot at first, chuckling to himself as he watched a little blush creep across the apples of your cheeks when he spread his thighs slightly brushing his knee against yours.

Frat Rafe – Who couldn’t take his eyes off of you through the soapy glass at the Fraternity Car Wash. You shamelessly recorded the show, giggling and smiling as he and his brothers washed cars between slow grinds and finger-drawn hearts. A very wet Rafe Cameron somehow made it through the car window, his tall frame barely fitting inside the cab as he continued to work for your cash. He danced to the music blaring through the speakers, smiling cheekily as you tucked a few extra dollars in his short red trunks.

Frat Rafe – Who waved you down before you could pull out of the lot, jogging up to your freshly cleaned car, asking you to come out to the bar that night.

Frat Rafe – Who sent three back-to-back text messages before you could pull away, the third making your mouth fall open. You looked through the window, watching Rafe chuckle and smirk, pretty proud of himself at the reaction that he got from you and the smile you couldn’t take off your lips.

Frat Rafe – Who you fucked after the first date. You couldn’t stop thinking about him after the carwash, his tanned, toned skin glistening in the sun. It was unclear just how many times you watched that fucking video, but it was a lot. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on him. Rafe Cameron lived up to every one of the rumors. The sex was amazing, the best you ever had, rough and slow, fast when you needed it. His long thick cock filled you deliciously. It seemed like he was always one step ahead of you; like he knew what you wanted before you even asked. His beautiful blue eyes were always on you, hazed with sex. His soft lips and tongue pleased you again and again ‘til you were a babbling mess.

Dating Frat!Rafe…

Frat Rafe – Who’s affectionate and gentle with you. Only you get to see that side of him, Rafe, reserving all his sweetness for you.

Frat Rafe – Who loves to wrap his strong arm around your neck in doggy, tugging you as close as possible, ‘til you’re begging him to let you cum.

Frat Rafe – Who went absolutely crazy the first time you called him daddy. The petname quickly became his favorite.

Frat Rafe – Who loves to brag about you to his frat brothers, especially when he’s drunk. The blonde, quick to remind them how much better you are than the girls they are hitting on to the point where it’s downright rude. You’ll scold his tipsy ass, and he’ll sass you as he continues to dog his friend until you have no choice but to smash your lips against his and steal the words off his lips.

Frat Rafe – Who sent you this message just a few days after you started talking:

Little did you know how much it was on his mind. He hated that you weren’t official. A much as Rafe wanted you to belong to him, he wanted to belong to you.

Frat Rafe – Who asked you out that night ‘cause he couldn’t wait any longer.

Frat Rafe – Who loves sneaking away with you at parties. Sure, he loves showing you off, but his favorite thing to do is chill in his truck, listening to music while the two of you share a joint and talk.

Frat Rafe – Who would rather spend every night at your place than the frat house because he can actually relax. Some nights you go to sleep alone and wake up with Rafe’s strong body hugging you from behind after he let himself in with the key you had cut just for him. He couldn’t sleep and needed you.

Frat Rafe – Who lives in weathered fraternity t-shirts and snapbacks if he’s not rocking a crisp polo. At any function, Rafe’s hat usually ends up on your head, one way or another, left on from time to time when you suck him off or ride his cock.

Frat Rafe – Who doesn’t trust any of his frat brothers around you but Top. If you’re coming over to hang out he’s meeting you out at your car to walk you in. If you’re at a party his hand is in yours, resting on your back, draped over your shoulder, or wrapped around your waist. He loves the contact just as much as he loves keeping you safe.

Frat Rafe – Who texts you cute/horny shit when he’s drunk and you’re away.

He often questions how he got so lucky or why are you dating me again? Rafe knows you love him, he just loves hearing it. His frat brothers also know when you’re gone for the weekend because Rafe turns into an absolute dick, bitching about everything until you’re back.

Frat Rafe – Who doesn’t care if people can hear the two of you having sex in fact he loves it. Rafe coaches you through each orgasm, trying hard to get you screaming for him.

“C’mon, princess… Let these boys hear how good daddy’s givin’ it to you.”

“Shh… Baby, I’d hate for all these guys to hear what a filthy fuckin’ slut you are f’me.”

“Bet he didn’t think I was fuckin’ you right. What do you think he thinkin’ now huh?”

He also loves watching you walk back into the party all flushed and wobbly knowing that he was the reason you were weak in the knees. Rafe loves to mark you with love bites, and hand prints, dark hickies on your cleavage that peek out of your low-cut dress, pairing beautifully with the sparkly little R pendant around your neck.

Frat Rafe – Who dedicates every Wednesday night for date night and will never let a frat meeting or function interfere.

Frat Rafe – Who’s a surprisingly good dancer. He’ll only dance at the bar if he’s wasted, but when he does, your ass is pressed up against him with his strong hands clutching your hips. It doesn’t take long until you’re dress is bunched up around your waist, panties pushed to the side, with Rafe’s pants in a puddle around his ankles as he fills you up in the dingy bar bathroom. On the other hand, if you’re at the frat house, it only takes a song or two until your bent over the bathroom sink or pressed up against the hallway wall.

Frat Rafe – Who couldn’t wait for Spring Break. Each drunken day was spent at the beach with his frat brothers and your friends – each night, a different bar. But Rafe made sure you still had some moments alone whether it be to take you shopping, share a beer, or watch the sunset.

Frat Rafe – Who got rid of his dirt bike and bought a motorcycle instead. Of course, making sure he bought a helmet for you so he could bring you to class or for a cruise around campus.

Frat Rafe – Who fell in love with you all over again when you made him a beer poster with yourself as the model. You had no idea how much he loved it until you showed up to the next frat party and saw it framed on the wall.

Frat Rafe – Who’s gotten in trouble with the law a few times for fighting. Rafe, no stranger to a fight on account of you when someone tries to start shit or gets handsy. He never ends up making it to jail, usually talking or paying his way out of it.

Frat Rafe – Who knows your class schedule like the back of his hand. Whenever he’s at the library he’ll text you and ask if you need a study break which is code for stuffing you full of his cock in study room D.

Frat Rafe – Who jealously gets the better of him, and when he pisses you off, all it takes is a flirty smile and a wave at one of his frat brothers or a hockey player to set him off. The rest of the night consists of rough, possessive sex, and punishment which somehow turns into sweet, slow passionate sex where’s he’s mumbling I love you’s and I’m sorry’s between deep strokes and kisses.

Frat Rafe – Who loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his oversized frat t-shirts paired with your cute little panties.

Frat Rafe – Who sends you gym selfies because he knows how crazy they make you, especially post-workout shots.

Frat Rafe – Who couldn’t keep his hands or eyes off you at the frat formal. It was hard not to think about the future when you looked so pretty in your white sparkly dress.

Frat Rafe – Who’s fiercely loyal. You never need to worry about other girls around him, but the sight of it still makes you jealous. Rafe is quick to assure you you’re all he wants and needs.

Frat Rafe – Who has a thing for your panties. The lacey and prettier the better; wrapped around the shift of his truck, looped over the hand of his bedroom door, the rung of his bedpost, anywhere and everywhere. He loves to wrap them around the base of his cock when you ride him or knot them around your wrists when he ties you to his headboard. But his eyes roll back in his skull when you stuff them in his mouth because he loves how you taste.

Frat!Rafe – Who loves recording the two of you having sex and frequently snaps pictures of you just ‘cause.

Frat!Rafe – Who won’t just send you dick pics when you ask, but videos with the sounds on, usually moaning your name until he’s spilling onto his hand, using the pictures or videos the two of you took as porn.

Frat!Rafe – Who had to change his lock screen when you took him home for the holidays because it was a picture of you in his favorite lingerie.

Frat!Rafe – Who has pictures of you everywhere and he doesn’t care who sees because don’t you wish you had a girl like mine.

#rafeyscurtainbangs library 📚#rafe cameron #rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe x fem!reader #rafe cameron x reader #frat bro rafe #frat rafe #frat!rafe #rafe headcanons #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron moodboards #rafe cameron blurb #obx #outer banks

753 notes · View notes