#just like casually poly

[impossible-rat-babies]

i've always kinda really loved this area in western la noscea

[triglycercule]

oh yeah before i forget cute mttpoly headcanon because i said so: when killer finds out (through SOME way of means. he has his ways) that dust and horror like something then at every chance he can he goes and finds that thing for them :3 because I SAID SO AND IT'S CUTE ‼️‼️ (something something killer has no idea how to properly show affection and appreciation after believing his whole life was meant to cause pain and suffering to those close to him and now that he's trying he does silly goofy stuff like this hehe,,,,,,, dust is DROWNING in piles of fluffy blankets and books. horror cannot keep up with eating the amount of snacks killer keeps stealing for him 😞😞😞)

[landgraabbed]

nothing wrong with starting a fwb thing with the guy you tried to date when you were both teens while you're trying to not catch feelings (but really you want to)

[bittsandpieces]

Deeply funny that now that I'm living with my mom again I'm going to get to be naked significantly more

(THIS IS NOT A FAUXCEST POST THIS IS A NONSEXUAL OBSERVATION ABOUT MY REAL LIFE DO NOT BE WEIRD ABOUT IT)

[theokusgallery]

Actually. Thinking about it because of my last reblog, but to people who get into romantic relationships (including demiro people and such): why do people make it so awkward when an unrequited crush happens?

I've seen people end really strong friendships over the other person having feelings, but if that happened to me I feel like I'd just... be flattered? And take it as a sign that the person really likes me, and be glad? Crushes are just a form of affection, isn't it kind of the same thing as a friend telling you "I really like you as a person"?

If you wanted a relationship with them, it means you like them a lot, but just because they don't return it, you... leave?? Even though you felt that close to them?? Can people not just enjoy the feeling of having a crush and treat it as a casual thing that's just there? Why is it such a big deal. Having a crush is a pretty pleasant feeling from what people say. Just enjoy the feeling. What's the problem here

[thismission]

ofmd s2 rly said yeah let's add more women to the cast but it's so important to immediately throw them into relationships with no proper buildup, storyline or conclusion that in order to make it happen we'll break up the secondary main couple of the first season with no explanation for that either

[needywetboy]

So. Lmao. I updated my fet profile pic to a recent face pic (I'm a bearded beary man) and suddenly the "heteroflexible" dudes showing up in my DMs have almost crawled to a stop. This is both hilarious and also extremely exhausting at the same time. I loooooove trying to date while trans. It's great. Perfect.

[seoafin]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJT2bpv5/

mayhaps geto and gojo w rip mc

i don't know how sofia boutella is so calm but if i were in between zachary quinto and chris pine i wouldn't know how to act. i would simply not be normal.

[kindahoping4forever]

on your WIP list, are ones that have a ship name for the guys in the title still reader x stories or are those slash 👀

I'd say it's a pretty even split between the two tbh 👀

[fear-is-truth]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kitten4sannie]

ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇʟʟ

ᴘᴇʀᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ/ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ ➠ ʏᴜɴɢɪ

pairing: bf! mingi x gf! reader x roommate! yunho

genre: smut

summary: there’s something irresistible about your boyfriend’s roommate.

w.c: 3k

warnings: established poly relationship, switch! mingi + reader, dom! yunho, lots of perverted activities going on (panty sniffing for one…), voyeurism/exhibitionism, mxm, mostly pet names + praise <33, glasses kink idk i really like glasses if you couldn’t tell,, a tiny amount of false praise/name calling, kissing (including a three way kiss 🫣), manhandling, instruction giving, masturbation, oral (receiving), cum eating/swapping, cockwarming, dp in one hole, brief tit play, bulge kink, breeding kink, squirting, creampies

a/n: DON’T YOU LOOK AT ME 🫵🏼 i had to write this okayyy it was the only way to quell the brainworms uwu esp after that dance challenge yuyu posted ohmygodohmfhwwh and migiii GRRRRRRRR BARK anyways, i’ll return to my enclosure now 😔 if you enjoyed plz lemme know~~

song rec: kiss & tell by ethan low + gen neo

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

It only took a week of dating your boyfriend to know that he had a special relationship with his roommate. The both of them could deny it all they wanted, but you weren’t blind. You didn’t even mind it, either — in fact, it intrigued you. The more the merrier, after all. Now that you had just moved in with them, you expected to see it first hand, but you would come to realize that there was a lot more to the story — and you were a major part of it. 

“All we did was jerk off together, Y/N, it was one time, maybe two…” Mingi explained to you over the sound of running water, as if that even helped his case, handing you the plastic plate he had just washed. 

“Riiight, and I only scissored my bestie once or twice, right after the group orgy,” you replied sarcastically, wiping the dish with a rag and putting it back into your shared cabinet. 

Mingi almost dropped your favorite cat mug into the sink. “Y-you didn’t tell me you were into group sex.” 

You quickly took the mug from his grasp, holding it to your chest. “I was just joking, Min, so that you could see how silly you sound.” You reached up to caress his cheek with your cold hand, making him shiver. “Who cares if you’re attracted to your roommate. You know I don’t mind.” 

Mingi’s eyebrows screwed upwards, looking down at you with wide eyes. “B-but, he’s a dude.” 

“And?” 

He bit into his plump lip. “He’s got a dick.” 

You nodded your head. “Even better.” 

Mingi turned off the sink. “He’s my best friend, Y/N…” 

“I don’t see why that’s a problem, Min. You can’t control who you like.” 

“I-i don’t like him!” your boyfriend protested weakly, his rosy cheeks betraying him. 

You sighed, accepting defeat for now. “Okay, baby, I hear you.” 

Mingi suddenly cornered you against the sink, his hands on each side of the counter. He towered over you. “Why are you so interested in Yunho, huh? Do you want him?”

Now that the tables had turned, it was your turn to blush. “Wh-what?” 

Mingi slowly pressed himself into you, his body warm against yours. He was hard. You could feel it. “You heard me.” He leaned down to whisper, “You want to fuck my roommate, don’t you, baby?” 

Just then, the front door opened, a set of heavy footsteps making their way through the corridor until the very roommate you were speaking of appeared in the kitchen. “It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” Yunho chuckled softly, pulling his heavy black coat off, along with his foggy glasses, before shaking his head like a dog, his dirty blond bangs sticking to his forehead. 

Mingi had positioned you in front of him to conceal his boner, trying his best to look casual with his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. “I told you to bring an umbrella, dumbass.” 

Yunho dropped his stuff down onto the kitchen counter, tugging at the thin white turtleneck he was wearing, the soaked material rolling up his waist. It had been soaked through, leaving little to the imagination. The both of you gulped audibly from where you stood. “You’re right, like always, Min.” Humming, Yunho used the loose material of his sweatpants to wipe his glasses clean, putting them back on, his gaze softening at the sight of his two favorite people. “Silly me.” 

“You’re going to catch a cold like that,” you whined, trying not to focus on the way his top clung to the ridges of his abs, or how his heavy sweatpants began to fall slightly from his hips. “You should take a shower, Yunho.”  

You weren’t the only one sizing him up, though Mingi wasn’t quite as capable of being subtle, instead biting straight into his lip, his deep-set eyes scanning lower until he could see the prominent outline of the very cock he was just talking about a few minutes ago. “Yeah, Yun. You’re soaked…” 

Yunho’s eyes formed half moons. His roommate and girlfriend were just too cute. He wanted nothing more than to fuck the living daylights out of the both of you, preferably in front of the other. Yunho couldn’t even keep track of the amount of times he’s jerked off to the thought of what you’d both act like when he was turning one of you out. He wondered which one of you would cry from being fucked full of cum, who could throat his cock the best, whose hole was the tightest, the list went on. These days, he’s even gone as far as to steal your panties, or Mingi’s boxers out of the laundry basket, just to wrap them around his dick and jerk himself off inside your shared room when the both of you were at work. And, as soon as he brought the soiled undergarments to his nose and inhaled your pretty scent, he blew his load all over your bed, like clockwork. Then, he almost always slipped in the hallway on the way to throw your blankets into the wash. It was getting bad.

He observed the splotches of water that had soaked into your own top and Mingi’s shirt alike, his lips curling up into a small smirk. “Looks like the both of you are wet too. Maybe we could all use a shower.” 

“M-maybe,” you choked out, worried your cover was blown by how flustered you looked. 

“You can go first though, bro,” Mingi finished for you, just about finishing in his pants from the thought of showering alongside Yunho, with you in between them. 

Yunho simply ran his long fingers through his wet hair, letting out a small sigh. “Your loss.” And with that, he made his way down the dark hallway to the bathroom. 

You didn’t even have to say anything for Mingi to know where your head was at, not when his other one poked into your abdomen when you turned around to face him. “Min…” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Bed, yeah,” Mingi breathed out, lifting you up from the floor and carrying you down the same hallway to your bedroom, the one that just so happened to share a wall with the bathroom. 

-

Beads of water slipped past the edge of Yunho’s tensing jaw, dripping past his contracting abdomen, and collecting inside the palm of his hand, aiding him in the pursuit of getting off, jerking himself off to the sound of Mingi piping you down. He could always tell when his best friend was about to cum; Mingi’s breath would get caught inside his dry throat and his words would start to come out jumbled. You were similar in that aspect, growing breathless, except you would always voice your desperation, that is, until all you could do was whine just before your insides were painted white. Knowing you were coming undone together in such proximity to Yunho made him so dizzy, he had to squeeze around the base of his cock to keep himself from cumming too soon. However, it was far too late, already letting out a sudden groan, leaving a few hefty splatters of cum on himself and the shower wall. Seeing white dots around his vision when he blinked, Yunho fought to catch his breath, pressing his cheek to the cool shower wall.

“Haven’t had enough, baby? Bet you need Yunho inside you next. Isn’t that right?” he heard Mingi ask you, finding it hard to swallow. Was he hearing right? 

“Yeah, I need him, Min, please–” you whined from underneath him, your thighs starting to tremble from being so close. 

“Ask him, princess,” Mingi cooed inside your ear, too drunk on lust to truly consider how his actions could backfire, bringing one sweat-covered arm to knock his fist into the wall, his hips smacking relentlessly into yours. “He’s right there.” 

Yunho jumped at the sensation of Mingi knocking through the wall, reaching over his body to turn the shower water off, his heart thumping loudly inside his chest. Finally, it was his time.

“Y-Yun, please, come here..!” Yunho heard your muffled plea, and that was all it took for him to burst through your door, a small, useless towel clinging desperately to his hips, gazing at his roommates past the foggy lenses of his glasses. 

“Y-you actually came.” Mingi swallowed hard, his thrusts growing sloppy, about to climb off of you, but staying while when Yunho slowly shook his head in disapproval. 

“I did. Now, you’re going to cum for me,” Yunho told him in a low voice, slowly climbing onto the bed, reaching down to run his fingers along his arm, leaving light, feathered touches over your collarbone next, sending a shiver through the both of you. He licked at his lips. “You’ll let me see, won’t you?” 

Neither you nor your boyfriend needed to have a discussion about the budding development of your relationship with Yunho. It just felt right. You immediately hooked your thighs around his waist, Mingi responding by pounding eagerly into your cunt until the both of you began to cry out. 

Yunho hovered behind Mingi, his wandering fingers closing around his friend’s waist, controlling the rate of Mingi’s strokes until he began to shudder, Yunho’s leaking cock rubbing along the other’s heated skin. He chuckled softly at the sound of Mingi’s whimpers, holding him still. “You’re cumming, aren’t you, Min? Inside your pretty girlfriend?” 

A bit of drool leaking from his lips, Mingi nodded weakly, as though his head was too heavy to lift, letting Yunho push his hips further and locking him in place, coating your pulsing walls with his seed. “F-fuck, I’m filling her up, Yun, it won’t stop…”

Humming in approval, Yunho gently coaxed Mingi to the side to access your body next, grabbing ahold of your nearest thigh and lifting it up and out of the way. “What do we have here? Mmm, no protection, huh?” He observed closely as his roommate’s load began to leak out past your fluttering hole. “I didn’t know your girlfriend liked it raw, Min.” He smiled perversely at Mingi, suddenly lifting your hips up in the air until you were folded in half like a paper doll, blowing a bit of air onto your cunt just to see you squirm. “Do you like having your little used pussy eaten too, baby?” 

“Y-yes, Yuyu,” you gasped, not used to having your ankles near your head like this, your filled hole on full display. It was so embarrassing, being looked at by your boyfriend and his roommate like they were going to eat you alive, but you couldn’t help but want more of their attention. You reached up, spreading yourself open, feeling Yunho’s heavy breaths against your skin. “Hurry, before it all spills out…” 

Groaning, Yunho dipped his tongue in between your slick lips, licking a long stripe up to your swollen clit with his tongue laid flat, languidly gathering up your combined arousal, repeating this action over and over, earning moan after wanton moan from you. Yunho opened his eyes to see how Mingi had positioned himself behind you, sitting on the opposite side of him, Mingi’s ringed fingers groping at your tits. They eventually shared heated eye contact, both growing harder at the mere sight of one another. 

“How does she taste?” Mingi’s voice is gravelly, low, and dripping with lust. “Tell me, Yun.” 

“Like heaven,” Yunho sighs out onto your hot skin, tonguing at your wet hole and pushing the tip inside. It slips out when you tighten up around it, but Yunho doesn’t give up, forcing it back in, much to your approval, flicking it in and out, in and out, until his chin is soaked with your arousal. He couldn’t help but chuckle with delight, licking his lips clean. “Your princess is making a mess.” 

Mingi couldn’t help but run the pad of his thumb over his twitching cock head, spreading the abundant pre-cum along the rest of his length. “Keep going, and she’ll make an even bigger one…”  

Taking that as a challenge, Yunho dove back in, with even more enthusiastic drags of his tongue this time around, aggressively guiding your hips to his favor. 

You tossed your head back, broken moans and expletives falling from your lips. You instinctively reached out, wanting to hold onto something: Yunho’s shaggy hair, your boyfriend, the warm sheets, or something, anything, when Mingi took hold of your wrists and held you still, his fingers slowly moving down to interlace with yours. “Oh my god–fuck, please…!” 

“Yes, that’s it, baby,” Mingi encouraged softly, giving your hands a gentle squeeze or two. “That’s my girl, being so good for us…”

Yunho’s hum vibrated through your lower half, his nose only bumping into your clit one more time, before a spray of arousal hit his moving tongue. It wasn’t until he could hear your juices splatter down onto his bare skin and the bed that his eyes rolled underneath his fluttering eyelids. “Oh my god…” He was so dizzy with lust, he was going to bust at any second, if he wasn’t careful. Just then, he noticed Mingi pulling you up into his arms, your back to his chest. He watched Mingi tilt your head until your lips met, throbbing at the sight of his tongue disappearing into your mouth. 

With Mingi’s arm snaking around your middle, his hand  cupping your sensitive cunt and his tongue down your throat, you opened your eyes to gaze at Yunho’s lips. Wanting to taste yourself, you lazily broke the kiss with Mingi, pulling Yunho closer to you, so close that you could still see drops of your arousal stuck to his glasses. “I taste like heaven, huh?” 

“Mm-hm…” Yunho pressed in closer, sandwiching you in between him and your boyfriend, his hands moving downwards to explore the closest expanse of skin, whether it was yours or Mingi’s. “I’ll show you.” 

Yunho’s tongue slid into your mouth before you had a chance to properly taste his lips, letting you taste your warm arousal instead. Just then, Mingi lifted your hips up and back down onto his stiff cock, not even moving, just wanting to feel the way you stretched open to accommodate him. It felt so good, he couldn’t help but throb, eyes shutting tight from the pleasure, immediately kissing back when your lips were back on his. You turned your head slightly to kiss each of them, your boyfriend and roommate taking turns swallowing each and every moan you let out, that is, until your lips and tongues met in the middle. 

Soon, you pulled away to take a much needed breath, unable to catch it, especially now that you realized the two men didn’t seem to stop like you did, instead tilting their heads in opposite directions to deepen the kiss, drool dripping along their chins. They both gripped your hips from either side, mutually guiding them up and down, just as Mingi began to thrust up into you, Yunho’s cock rubbing along your clit at the same time. Once your cunt squeezed around Mingi’s cock, he knocked his head back, forcing the string of saliva that connected their lips to break apart. “Fuck, baby– princess, you’re squeezing so tight…feels so good…” 

“Is she? I bet she’ll squeeze even harder with me inside,” Yunho panted near your ear, his head spinning, swearing all the blood in his body had traveled to his heavy cock. 

“What are you waiting for? Give it to me..!” you gasped out, unable to control the volume of your voice, not when Mingi was slamming into you like a short-circuiting sex machine.

“Give it to her, Yun,” Mingi encouraged raspily, lifting your body up and lowering you back down, feeling your cunt slowly stretch open to fit the both of them inside and swallow them up completely. Once Yunho bucked his hips up, Mingi joined suit, their slick cocks rubbing along one another so quick, they would occasionally slip out, though they simply pushed back in and fucked you harder than before. “Oh, that’s it…oh, god…”

“I’m gonna–nnnngh,” Yunho cut his announcement off with a moan, gritting his teeth tight, pumping what seemed to be an endless load into your already used pussy. “Fuck, it really won’t stop…I’m gonna knock up your girlfriend, Min…” 

Just when you thought you would pass out, Mingi wrapped his arms tight around your middle, his hands laid flat against your stomach, swearing he could feel his roommate’s cock underneath the pads of his fingers. “What’s mine is yours,” Mingi sighed out, pulling out for a moment, just to force himself back in, shooting thick ropes of cum deep into your womb. Panting heavily, your boyfriend’s hands slid down along your abdomen, only having to pinch and rub at your clit for a moment, before you completely unraveled in between their heaving bodies. 

Yunho pulled his glasses off, tossing them onto the bed. “You really mean that, Min?” he asked, leaning in closer. Not only did he have free rein with his roommate’s pretty little girlfriend, but Mingi seemed to be up for grabs as well. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. “Does that include you?” 

Mingi scoffed, his cheeks hot to the touch, hoping Yunho couldn’t feel how hard he just got. “Now, let’s not get carried away.” 

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

fff taglist: @yutasbutterfly02 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @dawn-iscozy @bbdeongi @multistanbaby @cr4zyf0rm @kittenfrostt @magicshop1913 @enbysforhongjoong @londonbridges01 @mingisdimple @motherseonghwa23 @wwooyology @everyonewooeverywhere @leo-seonghwa @yourfatherlucifer @hwallazia @vampzity

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 2: Piercings and Puns

“Pleeaaasse?” Johnny whines, pressing his hands together and giving you the biggest, sparkliest puppy dog look you could imagine.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Please! My two o’clock cancelled an’ I’m so bored!” He flops over the counter, arms dangling right above the appointment books. You pointedly ignore the size of his biceps.

“I’m not letting you pierce me just because you’re bored.” You scoff. “Now shoo, Simon’s got an appointment coming in soon.”

“But ye barely have any!” He argues. “All I’m askin’ fer is a wee ear. No’ even a nipple!”

A shocked amalgamation of a bark, laugh, and scoff forces it’s way out of you at that. “It’s still a no!”

Johnny groans, but at least moves away from the counter. Unfortunately, he takes the opportunity to circle around behind you, pinching the cartilage of your ear. “C’mon, ol’ righty’s beggin’ fer a conch.”

The intercom buzzes before you can respond. You swat Johnny away with one hand while pressing the speaker button with the other. “Hello?”

“I’ve go’ an appointment with Ghost.” A man’s voice drifts through. You blink dumbly for half a moment. You still haven’t gotten used to Simon’s social media and booking moniker - he doesn’t like giving his real name out much, apparently.

You buzz him in. Johnny is still hanging around the desk even when you leave to get Simon - making your way down the shirt hall to his studio. The large man stands in front of his stencil maker, back turned to you.

You knock on his door frame quietly. “Your guy’s here.”

“Be out in a moment.” He mumbles, focused on whatever he’s doing. You don’t really know the steps by heart, but you do know that there’s something so special about watching artists perform this repetitive song and dance. This rhythm they know by heart. Skilled hands enacting each step with careful precision.

He’s so hard to read. Big and bulky but calm as the night sea. You want him to like you, but you know badgering him certainly won’t get you there. So, you turn on your heal and head back out. When you return to the front, Johnny’s disappeared back into his room.

You suck your teeth and lean back in the desk chair, rolling your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. It’s not a bad offer, really. You only have two earlobe piercings on each side. Wouldn’t hurt to add a helix… you’ve also wanted to get your thirds done for a while. Work your way up. You glance at the clock. Simon won’t be done with his client for at least an hour or so, and you’ve balanced the registers for the moment. Both Kyle and John are out today, so they won’t need anything.

It wouldn’t hurt… well, not metaphorically.

With a sigh you stand, wandering your way to Johnny’s space. The door’s wide open, and his head snaps up the moment you step close like a sixth sense. “Takin’ me up on my offer, bonnie?”

You roll your eyes. “Guess I am.”

“Whit d’ye want?” Johnny practically skips around his station, pulling out wrapped, sanitized tools and placing them on a rolling tray. He pats the center of the padded table in the middle of the room.

“Uh, been wanting to do my thirds for a while.” You shrug. “If you have time for two.”

“Och, I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye, hen.” Johnny grins, pulling up in front of you and grabbing a marker.

He’s so close as he places the marks on your ears, warm fingers feeling for the best spots. A thumb traces the back of your left ear down just to the beginning of your jaw briefly. Fuck, he smells good. Warm musk with hints of citrus around the edges. The way he tucks your hair back, hands framing your face as he lines up the dots, is so oddly intimate compared to the other times you’ve gotten pierced. He chews at his lip in concentration, pulling at the scar on his chin while turning your head back forth a couple times.

“Think I’ve got it.” He grins and steps back. “Have a look.”

You take the mirror, casually checking but not paying too much attention. You trust him to do right by you. “Looks good.”

“A’right. Now the fun part.” He grins, tearing open the pack of tools and a two new needles.

“Is this fun?” You frown, squirming a little at the size of the needle.

“It’s always fun t’poke a pretty girl.”

You roll your eyes, a growing theme between you two it seems. “Oh, you thought that was real clever, didn’t you? Had that in your pocket a while?”

“Why donnae ye reach in an‘ check?” He murmurs, leaning close to clamp your left ear. You’re half tempted to tell him it’s mean to tease a fat girl like this - but you don’t think he means anything like that by it. He’s just a flirt by nature.

Before you can answer, he shoves the needle through your ear. You stiffen, a strained noise bubbling up out of your throat.

Johnny coos as he slips the earring into your ear. “One doon.”

“Uh-huh.” You sniffle. Not that it hurts badly, just a basic physical reaction. Johnny still gives you an empathetic smile.

The second goes quicker, Johnny locked in on his work. It’s interesting, seeing how intense they get. You Is it odd to wish someone would look at you like that? With that much focus and passion?

“There ye go…good girl.” He murmurs in that deep rumble that would have you squirming if you didn’t still have a needle through your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me...”

“You’re a devil, MacTavish.”

Johnny just chuckles, knowing full well exactly what he’s doing. He steps back to look at the final result after slipping the second stud into your ear. They feel hot - like two small ovens on either side of your head.

“If it weren’t for the piercings I’d think ye were blushing, hen.”

“You’re gonna get yourself slapped one of these days.” You scoff, sliding off the table.

“Wouldnnae be the first time.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes for the millionth time.

You grunt, squatting low in an attempt to pick the last of the parlor trash. It’s not that you mind, trash was part of your duties from the start, but holy shit do these boys put bricks in their bins? You’d think tattoos would make light trash. Especially after the sharps are disposed of separately.

“Solid?” Simon appears in the hall, eyes flicking over you. You still can’t tell how he feels about you. Neutral, you suppose. At least that’s all you can glean from behind his seemingly permanent black surgical mask.

“Ya.” You sigh, letting the bag drop and leaning back to stretch. “Just heavy. Swear y’all aren’t throwing rocks in these just to fuck with me?”

You give him a grin. Simon just cocks an eyebrow - exaggerated by the small piercing lining it. You think, maybe the slight shaking of his shoulder is a laugh. In combination won’t he crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Maybe not.

“‘ere.” Simon grunts, closing the short distance between you quickly before snatching up the bag like it weighs almost nothing.

You stutter, following after him toward the back exit. “You don’t have to-“

“Not a problem.” He grunts, tossing the thing over the side of the bin. He quietly leads you back inside, locking the door behind you “Johnny go’ you already?”

When you frown in confusion he points to his ears.

“Oh! Yeah.” You shrug, leading the way back to front desk to finish up your closing duties. “He’s insistent. I’d wanted them for a while anyway so I figured there’s no harm.”

“Give ‘im an inch...” He sighs, pointing to the black bar bridge piercing at the apex of his nose. “Somehow talked me into this shite.”

You tilt your head. “Yeah? I think it suits you.”

It really does. You can’t see most of his nose form under the mask but the arc of it leading up to bridge is strong, the piercing settling into the space nicely.

Simon breaks the silence. “You about done?”

“Almost. Just gotta check the ATM against the book real quick.” You nod.

He stares down at you for a moment, glancing out the semi-opaque window, now black with the night sky. There aren’t many street lamps on this side of town. You can only see a very faint glow from the one down by the car park.

“I’ll wait.” Simon settles his wide frame into Kyle’s usual chair.

“Oh! No you don’t have to! I’m sure you’re tired-“

“Wouldn’t feel right leavin’ you alone in the dark.” He cuts you off.

“It’s not a far walk-“

He scoffs. “Definitely not leaving you to walk alone.”

You sink your teeth into your lip, debating briefly on arguing. Based on his comfortable lean and crossed arms, it’s probably best to just let him walk you home. He looks so wide like that, veins prominent across his forearms. Fuck, you gotta find a boyfriend or booty call or something in this city. Anything to stop the temptation to stare at your hot coworkers.

It doesn’t take long to finish up your final chores. You turn all but one light off, wiring down from the bright overheads glaring at you all day. You glance over at Simon a few times while locking up the ATM, his covered face lit up by the light of his phone.

He leads you out of the shop once you’re finished, locking the door behind you and trying it a couple times to be sure. “Which way?”

“Uh, down here. It’s only twenty minutes.” You murmur, feeling guilty that you’ve kept him out extra late. You shove your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walk, the only sound on the street made up of your footsteps and some distant cars.

“What falls but never gets hurt?” Simon asks suddenly.

You frown. “Huh?”

“What falls but never gets hurt?”

You squint at him, trying to decipher anything from his face in the low light. You get nothing but a calm, warm gaze resting on you.

His eyes crinkle in the corners again. “Rain.”

“Pffft-“ You choke, caught off guard. “That’s such a lame pun.”

“Oh? I’ve got a better one.” Simon says, a smirk in his tone. “Why’d the mother clam scold her children?”

You chew your lip. God, you’re too literal to be clever enough for stupid puns and riddles. It doesn’t help that your head is spinning from this brick shithouse, incredibly attractive and intimidating man spitting popsicle puns at you.

“They were being shellfish.”

“Oh fuck off!” You shove at his arm playfully without thinking. He gives, let’s you push him slightly before you stiffen. “S-sorry! I don’t-“

“Nothin’ to apologize for.” The corners of his eyes crinkle deeper. Yeah, definitely a smile. You answer it with one of your own.

[beloveds-embrace]

(part two of here comes the sun: poly 141 x medic reader where you might as well be the sun to them)

Soap wasn’t subtle about it.

The moment he was cleared to leave the med tent, he started pushing. Hard, even if he knew there wouldn’t be much, actual opposition.

“Price,” he said, leaning against the captain’s desk like he wasn’t still healing. “John. We need her.”

Price didn’t even look up from his paperwork. “You need to sit down before you tear that wound open again.”

“I’m serious,” Soap insisted, gesturing wildly. “You saw her. She’s sharp, steady. Quick hands. Disnae panic under pressure. And-”

“And she’s not ours,” Price cut him off, finally looking up. “She’s stationed with another unit.”

“She could be ours,” Soap shot back, undeterred. “We need a medic. She’s the best one I’ve seen.”

Price gave him a long, measured look, and Soap could tell the captain was already considering it even before Soap burst into his office.

“She’s bright.” Price said after a beat, tone flat but amused, and sat back in his chair.

Soap grinned. “Aye. Easy ta spot.” What you, yourself, had said to him when he’d woken up in that tent. He kept going through that day again and again.

Price exhaled through his nose and reached for his phone, and Soap left feeling quite satisfied.

You arrived two weeks later.

The announcement was casual- just another personnel transfer- but the 141 treated it like the sun itself had walked into their orbit.

You stepped into the briefing room with the ease of someone who had faced fire and walked out the other side. Your bright gear stood out starkly against the muted greens and browns of the others, like a flare shot across a starless sky, and it reminded them so much of the day they had met you on that battlefield.

Gaz was the first to speak, offering a low whistle as he leaned back in his chair, offering you an easy smile. “Looks like it’s true. They really did send us the sun.”

You smiled at that, shoulders straight but relaxed, clearly used to the nickname by now. “I’ll try not to blind you, Sargeant.”

Soap’s eyes never left you. His grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and before he could think better of it, the words slipped out- low and rough like an ember still burning.

“Doubtful.”

You blinked, turning to him, but he quickly looked away and scratched at the back of his neck like it hadn’t meant anything. It did, though, and he knew everyone in the room had caught it.

“Well,” Price finally said, breaking the moment. “Welcome to the task force, medic. Let’s hope you live up to your reputation.”

You raised an eyebrow, that sharpness returning to your gaze as you stood a little straighter. “I don’t plan on letting you down, sir.”

Soap’s heart stumbled. That steady confidence- it was the same tone you’d used when you’d saved his life, the same fire he’d seen in your eyes as you’d pulled him back from the edge.

Here comes the sun, he thought again, and this time it didn’t feel like an omen.

It felt like a promise.

And now, you fit into the 141 like you’d always been there.

It didn’t happen all at once- trust like theirs was hard-earned, built in layers of sweat, blood, and battlefield grit. But it started quickly enough.

Price made it clear from day one. He didn’t just treat you as part of the team; he expected it. No fanfare, no hesitation. “You’re one of us now,” he said after your first successful op, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t forget it.”

Gaz took to you next, easy and natural. He lingered near you during drills, cracking jokes and testing your reflexes like it was a game. “Just making sure the sun doesn’t burn out,” he’d tease with a grin. But the way he always had your back in the field- never too far, always watching- spoke louder than words.

Soap made it impossible to keep your guard up, of course. He pulled you into conversations before you even realized it, throwing compliments and nicknames around like confetti with an easy grin. “The sun’s shining bright today,” he’d say whenever you joined a room, all charm and laughter. It was easy to laugh with him, easier still to trust him when things got serious.

Ghost was different. Quiet. Watchful. You never caught him outright staring, but you felt his presence. He didn’t say much at first- just short nods and simple instructions during missions. But then there were the small things. The way he passed you ammo without being asked. The way he moved closer during tense moments, his silence as steadying as any words.

And when he finally spoke up, it was never casual. “Good work,” he told you after a long, brutal mission. It wasn’t much, but it felt like everything.

You learned to move with them like clockwork. They learned to rely on you the same way. Missions came and went, and somewhere in between the chaos and quiet, you stopped feeling like the new addition and started feeling like home.

It wasn’t the colors of your gear that made you stand out anymore. It was the way you fit beside them- bright and steady, a fixed point in their orbit.

Soap caught himself watching you more often than he should’ve.

It wasn’t just the colors, though they still hit him first- those impossible reds and oranges that stood out like fire on a battlefield. They reminded him of sunrise after too many nights spent in the dark, of flames warding off the cold, and he didn’t think there’d come a day where the colors don’t surprise him. But it wasn’t just that.

It was the way you moved.

Steady. Deliberate. Like hesitation wasn’t in your vocabulary. You worked with purpose, not a single wasted motion, and it drew his eye every damn time. You stood out in ways that had nothing to do with the bright gear- like light breaking through fog, cutting through smoke and haze to reveal solid ground.

And he wasn’t the only one who saw it.

Price started calling you their beacon during briefings. At first, it had sounded like a joke, a casual nod to the nickname you’d earned, but it simply stuck.

“We follow the sun,” Price said once, tone half-serious, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “And if we lose track of her, we’re done for.”

Soap had laughed along with the others, but the words lingered.

Gaz, for his part, never made any effort to hide how much he liked having you around. He hovered close more often than not, easy-going and quick with compliments.

“It’s just the colors,” he’d insist whenever someone called him out for it. “You’re hard to miss.”

But Soap caught the way Gaz’s tone softened when he said it, like maybe it wasn’t just the colors after all.

Ghost… Ghost was different.

He didn’t flirt, didn’t tease- not like the others. But Soap had spent enough time with him to notice the shift. The slight tilt of his head whenever you spoke. The way his shoulders relaxed when you were in the room. The rare moments he let you touch him, patching up a wound or tightening a bandage, as if he trusted you without question.

Soap had nearly choked when he’d caught Ghost staring once, lingering too long while you tied off a suture on his arm. For all his jokes about Ghost being unflappable, even Soap couldn’t ignore the look he’d seen- the way Ghost had leaned just slightly into your touch, like he’d never wanted to leave it.

And Soap?

Soap was a mess.

Because no matter how much the others admired you- how much they trusted you, relied on you- he’d seen you first.

He’d been the one bleeding out in the dirt, thinking his time was up. He’d been the one who saw you cut through the smoke and fire like something out of a dream. And that fact burned in his chest like an ember that refused to go out.

Sometimes, he thought about what might’ve happened if you hadn’t been there. If you hadn’t run straight into hell to get to him. But those thoughts never lasted long- because all he had to do was look at you to remind himself that you had been there.

You’d saved him. And now, every time he saw you, with those bright colors and steady hands, it hit him all over again.

Here comes the sun, he thought.

And this time, he didn’t want to look away.

It was late one evening when it happened again.

The mission had gone south- not as badly as last time, but bad enough. They’d made it out, but Gaz had taken a hit, and comms had failed halfway through.

By the time they stumbled back to the evac point, Soap was covered in dirt and sweat, exhaustion weighing heavy in his limbs. But then-

You.

You came running, gear catching the fading light, colors flaring like fire in the dusk.

Soap’s breath hitched.

Here comes the sun.

He couldn’t stop thinking it. It looped through his head like a mantra as you fell to your knees beside Gaz, hands already moving, voice low and steady as you worked. The others lingered nearby, hovering but trying not to get in your way.

Soap stood frozen, watching.

Watching you save another life, same as you’d saved his.

It was Ghost who spoke first, breaking the silence. “Told you,” he murmured. “Sun’s hard to miss.”

Gaz let out a weak chuckle, though his voice was tight with pain. “Yeah… can’t look away, can you?”

Price didn’t say anything, but his expression was clear enough. Relief. Trust.

And Soap- Soap felt it more than ever.

The sun. Warmth in the cold. Fire in the dark.

He knew now, without a doubt, that they’d follow you anywhere.

(You’d never lead them wrong.)

[moonstruckme]

hello! im not sure if you've done this before and if you have, i hope its ok to ask for more hehe but can i request rockstar poly marauders w a shy!reader and gets easily flustered when they show affection? thank u sm i really love all your poly marauders drabbles!!

Thank you for requesting angel <33

rockstar!marauders x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

The sound tech at this venue is nice. You liked her first for her pink hair and then for the easy way she motioned you over to help do the boys’ sound checks. You don’t think she needed the help; she only saw you standing off by herself and did a kind thing to make you feel less awkward. 

Now the boys are off in their dressing room, and you’re trailing contentedly behind her while she shows you how she sets up for shows. 

The bustle and ruckus of crews setting up before shows isn’t new to you. You’ve been with the boys since the beginning of their tour, but usually you stay out of the way, blending into walls or taking refuge in your boyfriends’ dressing room while they’re busy. You’ve never really gotten to know the actions the bustle and ruckus constitute. 

“Usually I help with lighting once I’m done with my own stuff,” the sound tech tells you. “It’s all programmed ahead of time, so really I’m just on standby in case something happens. Do the boys have a favorite color if I have to pick something?” 

You gnaw your lip, contemplative. “Sirius would probably like yellow, if you get the chance.” 

Her eyebrows shoot up. You know it’s not in the usual color palette of the boys’ shows. “Really?” 

“No.” You suck in a breath as a pair of arms wraps around your middle, releasing it when you realize it’s Sirius. “Not really. Minx, you know I hate yellow.” He smushes his face into your cheek. “Joke’s on you though, I look good in every color.” 

“Yellow certainly least,” James teases. He steps into your field of vision wearing his concert outfit. Jeans and a tight t-shirt just short enough to tease a sliver of abdomen. Of all the fans who will get to see him looking so handsome tonight, you’re glad you’re one of them. 

“Anyway,” he says, grinning, “we have a very important question for you both. No pressure.” 

“Well, some pressure,” Sirius says. 

You look at your sound tech friend. Like most crew, she’s largely unaffected by the rockstars currently sharing in casual repartee in front of her. Her eyes don’t appear to dip to James’ stomach or trace the myriad of tattoos you know are showing through Sirius’ sheer top. If anything, she looks only faintly amused by the way the band’s lead singer is mushing tiny, soft kisses into the skin by your ear. Your cheeks warm. 

“What’s the question?” you ask, dreading the reply. 

Sirius turns you in his arms, taking you by the shoulders and levelling you with a very serious look. “What is the hottest instrument for someone to play?” 

Your sound tech friend barks a laugh. “Bass,” she says. “No question.” 

James’ eyebrows fly up, his expression one of utter disbelief, but Sirius only says swiftly, “Wrong. You know what it is, don’t you, gorgeous?” 

Your shoulders gravitate upwards at the moniker. “You can’t ask me to pick between you.” 

“Don’t think of it as picking between us,” he says. “Just, which is the hottest? Objectively.” 

“I can’t be objective,” you plead. 

“Does anyone know what time it is? I can’t seem to find a clock in this whole place.” You turn your head as Remus emerges from their dressing room, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. “Oh.” He blinks when he sees you, waving to dispel the smog. “Sorry, dovey. Where’ve you been?” 

“I’ve been here,” you say, voice softening. Sirius makes a quiet sound and hugs you again. 

“You’re cute,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. Your face flames. 

“It’s quarter ‘til,” the sound tech offers helpfully. 

Remus turns to her with a smile he’ll never understand the power of. “Thank you.” 

“We’re conducting a poll on which instrument is the hottest,” James informs him. He jerks his thumb toward the sound tech. “She says bass.” 

Remus’ grin turns smug. “Quite right. What’s your pick, dove?” 

You’re mute and melting, hot enough by now that you wish you could evaporate into steam and float away through the vents. 

“She won’t say,” Sirius sighs dramatically, breath warm against your cheek. 

“Oh.” Remus seems to wisen to your plight. “It’s not really playing fair, is it? She can hardly be objective.” 

“Right,” you agree quickly. 

“But angel,” says James, bewildered, “guitar is classic.” 

“I’ll tell you what’s not fair,” Sirius argues. “For anyone to say anything other than the front man! We’re chosen for our hotness!” 

“Well, that’s not strictly true, is it?” 

“Yeah?” Sirius has that shit-eating grin, like he’s winding James up in anticipation of hauling him into a broom closet. You’re only glad it’s not directed at you. “You got something to say, Potter?”

“Sorry,” Remus apologizes to your sound tech friend on their behalf, touching a hand to Sirius’ back to guide you both towards the dressing room. James follows. 

“You’re good,” she laughs. “Nice to meet you, y/n.” 

“You too,” you say, cringing at the unintentional softness of your own voice. 

“Who was that?” Sirius asks as James closes the door to their dressing room behind you. “Have you made a new friend?” 

You groan, flopping down onto the posh-looking, uncomfortable couch and covering your face with your hands. “I was trying to.” 

“It looked like it was going well,” James says. “Maybe you can hang out with her again while we’re onstage.” 

“I can’t now,” you mumble between your palms. 

“Why not?” 

“Because,” says Remus, as he sits beside your head and begins smoothing your baby hairs with his fingers, “we’ve embarrassed her.” You let your hands slip down enough to see him, and he smiles at you. “I don’t think she’ll hold it against you, dovey. She seemed nice.” 

“You would think so.” Sirius plucks the cigarette from between Remus’ fingers, taking a drag before it can burn out. “She picked your instrument.” 

Remus shrugs, smug again. “That helps.” 

Sirius squints at him spitefully. He sits next to your knees where they’re flung over the arm of the couch. “Don’t let us spoil your new friend for you,” he says, sincerely. “She loves you already, I can tell. You’re perfect.” 

“You’re biased,” you counter, face heating again. 

Sirius grins like he can tell and reaches down to tug you upwards. He grasps you with a roughness for which he has no follow through, kissing you sweetly with his fingers bunched in your jacket.

“Wrong,” he says, lips moving against yours. “I know how to be objective.”

[fresitasmoribund]

Between His Lens, Between Your Legs

-`♡´- pairing: Poly!Wolfstar x Fem!Reader

-`♡´- summary: You’ve never done a photoshoot in lingerie before, much less with another model. Luckily, Sirius and Remus make you feel more than comfortable.

-`♡´- contains: model!sirius, model!reader, photographer!remus, established wolfstar, modern au, praise, smut (oral, fem receiving), soft dom remus you have my heart

-`♡´- masterlist

-`♡´- word count: 2.8k

-`♡´- a.n: the smut is mostly at the end. part two to this fic kinda

You step out into the bedroom, your see-through babydoll dress swishing softly around your thighs. The silk stockings and garters you wore beneath it added to the playfulness and elegance of the shoot. For a moment, you hesitate – your breath catching as you meet Sirius' gaze.

Sirius' lips slowly curve as he takes you in. “Aren’t you a vision?”

Remus nearly drops his camera when he looks up to take a proper look at you. He clears his throat, quickly glancing down and feigning adjustment of his settings before taking another brief glance at you and offering a tight, polite smile.

“You look incredible.” His praise settles something inside you, steadying your nerves for only a moment.

 Sirius leans forward and tilts his head, surveying his boyfriend’s reaction – a quiet exchange dancing between them. A muscle in Remus’ eyebrow twitches, causing Sirius’ nose to scrunch in a teasing, amused way – as though holding back a smirk. With an almost imperceptible sharp look, Remus shuts down whatever Sirius was seconds from teasing him about.

"Let's start, then." Sirius preens, passing you with a wink.

Sirius was seated on the edge of the bed, scrolling lazily on his phone as he waited for Remus’ direction. You move behind him, your hands stretching to rest on his shoulders. His reaction is instant – with his face lighting up as he glances up at you over his shoulder. He sets the phone aside to reach up and lightly grab your hands.

“Stay just like that,” Remus instructs as your fingers curl over Sirius’ shoulders. The camera clicks, capturing Sirius’ easy charm and the way you hope your posture exudes a sensual allure. You shift – initially not meaning to – letting your hands smooth over the expensive cotton covering his chest. Sirius follows your lead effortlessly, turning his head just enough to make the moment feel more natural.

“Perfect,” Remus murmurs, stepping to the side to adjust his angle. “Keep going.”

The simple command to "keep going” had lead to even more provocative poses. You lay horizontally across the bed, propping yourself up on one elbow, your other hand resting delicately on the bedspread. One leg crossed over the other, the line of your garter and stockings perfectly accentuated.

Sirius kneels behind you, his weight balanced casually as he watches you settle into the pose. You can feel the warmth of his presence without needing to look back, and your mind goes fuzzy again. The anxiety from earlier begins to creep back in, taking you out of the confidence that you were finally picking up on.

The sudden knitting of your brows causes Remus to pause and lower his camera. He takes a half-step forward, preparing to ask if you need a break. But you take the initiative, grabbing Sirius’ tie and pulling him closer. He blinks, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your hip to steady himself. All you can think about is the warmth from the contact – the warmth of his hand twitching against your skin involuntarily.

“Sorry,” he mutters reflexively, though the apology softens by a grin when he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes. His voice threads with approval as he purrs, “Look at you.”

The corners of your lips twitch. “You said to commit – so I am.”

His grin softens, veering into something more genuine.

“That I did.” His gaze dips to where your fingers still grip his tie, and his voice drops to a whisper. “You’re doing well.”

After a few clicks and flashes from the camera, Remus clears his throat softly.

“That’s beautiful,” he says. “But less chatter, more action.”

Sirius barely glances at Remus, his focus locked entirely on you. “You heard the man.”

You roll onto your stomach, bringing Sirius down with you. After the hours of working with each other, you’re at that point where what would’ve been mortifying is now… comfortable. At least, as comfortable as posing in your underwear for a camera can be. His forehead presses onto the side of your head, his breath warm against your cheek when you arch into him. He moves his hips back before you can truly feel him, and you quickly push down your disappointment. You try to hold the pose as the camera flashes furiously, but every inch of your body felt alive with tension. Sirius was so close, yet clearly afraid to press too hard.

“Closer,” Remus commands, the instruction soft but firm and traveling straight down your spine. “Let it be real.”

Sirius hesitates for what seems to be the first time as he gingerly shifts forward. The air in the room grows thick when you feel his hardness pressing against you. It’s a natural reaction, you tell yourself. Just like mine is.  You were prepared for this – your agent and the countless articles on photoshoots like these had told you so. You just weren’t prepared for the reality of the persistent ache between your thighs, and his very real erection. Remus hums in approval, and you’re not sure if he’s unaware or purposefully fueling the fire between you and the body above yours. For your own sanity – you hope he’s unaware.

“Exactly like that,” Remus adds, his tone somehow grounding you while making your pulse race even faster.

The rhythmic hum of his camera fills the air, punctuated by the occasional beep. The sound echoes inside your mind, blending into the rapid beating of your heart and the warmth spreading across your chest. You’re not even sure when you rolled onto your back – but you were aware of how this looked. Sirius leaning over you, his hand grazing your waist as you stretch beneath him.

Your arm rests on his shoulder, and your leg bends, brushing against his hip. His weight is carefully distributed, making sure not to push any boundaries you are disappointed in the existence of. Sirius tilts his head, his dark hair falling into his face – and for a moment – it is impossible to tell whether it is part of the pose or something entirely unscripted. His hand slides an inch higher on your waist, rucking up your sheer garments under his fingers. He moves his hand as to not touch your skin, his thumb brushing a lazy circle through the delicate fabric.

“This okay?” he asks quietly, and you can hear the apologetic note in it that made your chest tighten.

You nod almost immediately as you meet his gaze, your breath hitching. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

His lips curve into a small, almost shy smile that was as uncharacteristic as it was sweet.

“Good. Tell me when…” But his voice trails off. You know what he means; you don’t want him to stop.

“Alright,” Remus’ voice cuts through the charged silence, and there was the faintest edge of amusement there. “If you’re going to continue looking at each other like that, you might as well stop pretending it’s for the camera.”

Sirius freezes, his gaze flicking toward Remus, though his hand doesn’t move from your waist. You are just as still – heat flooding to your cheeks as you attempt to process what had just been said.

“Excuse me?” Sirius says after a beat, his usual quick wit faltering.

“You heard me,” Remus replies, stepping out from behind the camera. His movements are smooth and unhurried, and the calm in his voice was somehow more disarming than if he’d made a joke. “Go on. You’re already halfway there. Might as well finish what you’ve started.”

The words hang in the air, but nobody moves. Sirius opens his mouth as if to respond. But then his attention is brough back to you. His expression is unreadable, and you trust that yours is too.

“Be honest with me,” he whispers, removing his hand from your waist to give you room to flee. “Because I don’t want to stop unless you do.”

You’re stunned into silence as you search his face for any sign of doubt or humor. But there is none – just a quiet patience that makes you feel safe, even as your nerves web with the undeniable pull of desire. Slowly – tentatively – you lean forward, your lips brushing against his. Sirius tilts his head, deepening the connection and igniting a spark in your chest. Warmth travels through your entire body, his hand going back to squeeze your waist. Your head dips back onto the mattress as your tongue moves against his.

“That’s good,” Remus murmurs. The approval in his tone makes you shudder, and you pull back just enough to glance at him.

His gaze softens – not just on Sirius but on you – and before you can process it, he moves toward the bed. He kneels beside you, his fingers brushing along your cheek.

“You’re captivating,” he said with a faint smile. “The way you move together—it’s mesmerizing.”

Your lips – already wet from Sirius’ kiss – part as he leans in to bridge the gap. It’s feather-light at first until your lips move against his. In response, he presses closer – though still contrasting with Sirius’ heated energy. Remus’ kiss is a steady, powerful pull that reaches further than your lips. Sirius’ thumb continues to trace small circles at your waist against the rising tension.

“Absolutely breathtaking,” he said, his eyes flicking between you and Remus.

When Remus finally pulls back, his lips hover close to yours. His expression was awash with a reverent wonder that makes your pulse skip.

His hand cups your cheek gently as he whispers, “Does this feel right to you?”

Swallowing, you nod, words barely finding their way past your lips. “It does.”

At your affirmation, Remus smiles and turns his head toward Sirius. The two of them exchange a look that speaks volumes – more than words can convey – before Sirius eases back onto his heels.

“Alright, lovebirds,” he teases lightly. “Move over, yeah?”

You laugh softly, nerves and excitement blending into a flutter in your chest. Sirius shifts back on the bed, bringing you closer as his hands plant firmly on either side of your thighs.

“Raise up a bit for us, gorgeous.”

You push yourself up on your elbows as his words dip low enough to have you exhaling shakily. The weight of their attention settles over you as Remus moves onto the bed more fully. His hand rests lightly on Sirius’ shoulder before he places it over yours.

“Look at you,” Sirius admires, his eyes raking over you. “Utterly stunning.”

Remus’ hand slides down your arm, his thumb grazing over your wrist as he adds, “And so patient with us, too. You’re lovely.”

Your heart races, your mind now gone to mush from arousal. But a part of you still hesitated.

“You’re both okay with this?” you ask, your voice barely above a breath. “I don’t want to ruin anything…”

“You’re not—” Remus’ thumb stills its movement as he briefly looks to Sirius. “We want this – if you do.”

Sirius gave a small, almost nervous smile, his voice unusually tender.

“We’re in the same boat here – this is uncharted for us, too. We’re… figuring it out as we go. But we’re here with you. If you want to stop, just let us know.”

Their reassurances melt the last bit of doubt you’ve been holding onto. You’re unsure of how to respond without sounding too desperate. Sirius brushes his thumb along the curve of your knee as the cogs whir in your mind.

“I’m here,” you finally say, attempting to meet both of their gazes. “For this. I mean… yes.”

Sirius’ grin widens, his hands sliding along your thighs, stopping just short of the undergarments that barely covered you. Remus shifts closer, his hand steadying your back as he whispers against your ear.

“Let us take care of you.”

The weight of their attention – their words, their touch – it is almost too much, yet not enough. Your chest rises and falls quickly, your body caught between nervous anticipation and desperate want.

The fabric of the babydoll dress feels weightless against your skin, but under their gaze, it might as well have been nothing at all. Sirius’ hands skim along your thighs, his fingers curling around the hem where the gauzy fabric met bare flesh. He wets his lips – betraying his worry – his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“Please,” you urge him.

The moment stretches until Sirius moves, lifting the hem higher. The cool air ghosts over your skin as the thin garment slides up and over your head, leaving you in little more than lace and silk. His hands hover just shy of your hips, his restraint is evident.

Remus brushes the back of his knuckles along your jawline, tilting your face so your eyes meet his. He leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “So beautiful.”

A tremble runs through you as Sirius lowers himself onto the bed. His eyes are calculating and somehow still wild, his fingertips tracing an idle path down to the curve of your thigh. “Still with me, Moony?”

“Always,” Remus replies. His hand slides to your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple of it as he guides your attention back to him. The corner of Remus’ mouth quirks up when he notices your needy expression. “Go on, Padfoot.”

Sirius lets out a breathy laugh, his grin holding all its usual mischief. “You’re really enjoying yourself up there, aren’t you?”

Remus chuckles but doesn’t take to the bait, his focus staying on you.

“She deserves to feel worshipped,” he says simply, his fingers continuing their gentle path along your cheek and jaw. “And you need to stop talking and start showing her.”

The words have you squirming just as Sirius lowers himself further, anticipation curling in your stomach. He kisses the inside of your knee first, the softness of his lips igniting a spark that travels up your leg. His hands splay over your thighs as he presses a trail of slow kisses higher. Remus’ voice stayed low in your ear, his words the soothing counterpoint to the fire Sirius was stoking.

“You’re doing so well.” His lips brush the shell of your ear.

Your breathing hitches as Sirius’ mouth finds the sensitive skin just above the edge of your lace underwear. His hands slide down your thighs, steadying himself as he presses his lips just above the waistband. His eyes flick up to you when you whimper – dark and full of intent – before he glances at Remus.

“Like this?” Sirius asks almost playfully.

Remus’ hand slides down to your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Perfect.”

Sirius’ lips continue their descent, his hands anchoring you in place as he draws closer to the dampened spot on the smooth silk of your underwear. You shiver when his breath hits your arousal and finally let out a moan when he slowly licks a stripe over the fabric.

“Does this feel good?" You ignore the teasing lilt in his voice as he asks you this.

You nod, a breathy “Yes” escaping before you can second-guess yourself.

Sirius chuckles under his breath before lowering his head again, lapping and tasting you through your garment. His hands slide under your thighs, lifting them slightly to give himself better access. The intimacy of his touch sends a wave of heat through your body, and you can’t help the soft sounds that tumble from your lips.

You can’t find the concern to care that this isn’t even your lingerie that you’re wearing – they were only for the shoot. But Sirius’ tongue is so hot, and the fabric is so delicate that you’re starting to get dizzy. Remus whispers praise in your ear as Sirius continues his ministrations, Remus’s thumb brushing along the corner of your mouth.

Sirius raises his head from between your thighs to briefly fumble with pulling your underwear to the side. You weren’t prepared, and the barest hint of air against your folds has you whining. He doesn’t waste another second, gliding his tongue along your slit. You hadn’t even noticed that Remus had pulled your hair back to press his lips and draw softly at your neck. Your eyes flutter closed, consumed by the sensations. When you moan again, you’re met with the vibrations of an open-mouthed hum against your heat.

Sirius’ lips finally wrap around your clit, sucking gently, and it’s completely overwhelming. Your breaths come out in quick pants at the heat and deliberateness of his mouth, each movement precise yet filled with a hunger that’s impossible to ignore. Your hips rise to meet his mouth when he pulls away for only a second. Remus catches the movement, his hand slipping to your back to support you, still guiding his lips against your skin. You’re not even sure how you’re still sitting up.

After a few seconds of bliss, Sirius raises his head again, causing you to groan and Remus to chuckle.

“We aren’t keeping you from another shoot, are we, darling?” he asks, the roguish curve of his lips glossy with his spit and your arousal.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head after finally catching your breath. “No, you’re not.”

[eupheme]

— the suit(s) stay on

[part iv of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 6.2k

tags: MMF threesome, dirty talk, triad poly relationship, holiday cheer, considerable filth with a side of feelings, yearning, double blow-job, frotting, hair-tugging, swallowing, come sharing/eating, reference to fisting, teasing, DVP/double vaginal sex, creampies

a/n: a belated halloween update, revised with a holiday theme 🎄💖

It’s torture, how good they look. How your eyes can’t help but wander at the holiday fundraiser - admiring the tight cling of their suits. Unable to help the itch in your fingers - all too eager to reach out and touch.

(or - you can’t wait to get your boyfriends home.)

You're not quite sure if you're going to be able to make it through tonight.

It’s definitely an exaggeration. Mostly. You're not that weak-willed. Or at least - that's what you tell yourself, as your eyes flick across the room for the eightieth time in the last fifteen minutes.

Almost missing the cup that you're adorning with sprinkles. A little "whoops" with a smile - the whipped cream covered in a dusting of glittering red and green, before it's handed off to the child in front of you.

Before your eyes snap across the room again.

It's just - Wade. The suit - it's been a while since you've seen him wear it for this long. Getting more comfortable in his skin without it, not needing the familiar cling to feel at home.

You think that has to be from Logan.

Logan, who's made progress as well - who no longer felt like he was letting the ones in his memories down, if he removed it. Who's figuring out how to toe the line between his old world and now - weekends slowly spent in warm flannels and worn, old jeans.

As much as it warms your heart - that you're glad, that you've been hoping for something for this - you still can't help the little flicker of appreciation.

The tight wrap of red leather and lyra. Even with his gaudy, cat-patterned 'meowy christmas' sweater - you had unfortunately had to veto "santa's favorite ho" and "jingle balls" - he looks good.

Too good.

And when he crouches down next to a boy in a reindeer sweater, the crinkle of his white eyes as he "oohs" and "ahhs" over the drawing clutched triumphantly in their fist - you have to resist the urge to sink your teeth into your fist.

Something soft and warm deep stirs inside you. Caught on the ease of his laugh - the way his head cocks at the kid chatters, leaning so casually and comfortably against your boyfriend’s shoulder.

You think your heart melts completely when you spot Logan at the next table over - grabbing another box from the floor, handing over art supplies. Yukio and Ellie on the other side - restocking the craft corner they set up.

The way you can see his mouth - lips curving at the corner as he leans over the barstool in front of him. Two smaller girls turning towards him, all four of them laughing at something he said - a marker pointed towards one of the drawings.

You don't know if you've ever been so happy. Or captivated, something about the gentle way they move, paired with the ferocity of the suit - what it means, the adoration that follows them - does something to you.

But, the holiday fundraiser at Sister Margaret's is still in full swing - you'll just have to get a hold of yourself.

An actual contribution to wayward girls at hand, and you have to admit that the place cleans up pretty well, once scrubbed.

The tables cleaned up, the low neon exchanged for the fluorescent lights above. Blood mopped from the floor from the last brawl - the chalkboard above covered by thick strings of garland, blotting out the names.

Filled with regulars and their families. Faces you recognize, friends of Wade’s. Friends you’ve gotten to know well - one of them slipping from the back of the crowd, making their way over to you.

"Hey."

Laura leans against the bar, where you've set up shop. Swapping hard liquor and shots for eggnog and cups of hot chocolate, spiraling towers of whipped cream.

"Hi," You smile, "You having a good time?"

She hums. Sinking onto one of the stools, her chin propped in the cup of her palm, "Good enough."

A slight smile, and you get it - she enjoys crowds as much as Logan does. You've gotten to know her more in the past weeks, especially as your and Wade's relationship with her father grew.

Became public, even - Wade unable to hold back the brag that the two of you had “finally cuffed this zaddy”, a thumb hitched towards Logan during another one of your movie nights.

But with the way you had seen him trying to hide his smile behind the roll of his eyes - you thought Logan hadn’t had minded.

Either that - or, he hadn’t understood a word Wade had said.

"Hot chocolate?" You wiggle a striped cup at her, and she nods.

"Logan seems to, too." Her head tips towards the table - somewhere in the last minute, he'd been coaxed to join. Elbows tucked close as he fits himself into an open space at the end, folded onto the old chair.

A beat - the milk still heating, as she adds, "It's... nice."

"I think so, too." Your smile only widens when Logan's head tilts your way, a hand raised - his ears must have been burning.

Laura waves back, as you beam.

"I don't remember my-," The words cut off, with a breath. A guilty look, as she corrects herself, "The Logan I knew didn't smile a lot. Not like this."

You never knew the Logan from your world. Knew of him - whispers, as you had gotten older. That door opening wider after you met Wade. Starting meeting his friends.

"I know he cared about you." You begin, carefully.

Her dark eyes turn your way - appraising. A small nod.

"I know that. I just mean..." Laura turns fully, then - the bar stool pivoting until she faces you, "You and Wade make sense."

The scoop hovers above the cup, as you frown. Unsure where she's going, and she must tell from your expression.

"But the two of you and Logan," She's quick to add on, "I think that makes sense, too. I think you both make him happy. And it's..."

Silence hangs again for a heartbeat, but this time, you understand.

"Yeah." It's good. It's a change - that tight tension easing from his shoulders. Smiles, like she said. Laughter, even if both still come slowly, they're still there.

"But you know that you have a lot to do with that as well, right?"

An uncomfortable look swims across her face. Not used to a compliment turned back around on her. Not used to seeing from a different points of view.

Even if it’s true. Even if you’ve seen the way her presence has affected him, the way he’s come to care about her much like the way this world’s Logan did.

"Anyways, I just wanted to tell you thanks." Her eyes drop, a brush-off of your earlier encouragement, "We're, I'm not that good at this-"

A little half-shrug, as her eyes flick back to yours.

"I know. You did great," You smile, lightly teasing, "And I still like you both, anyway."

In reality, it takes all your strength to resist the urge to reach across the bar and hug her. But you don't - don't want to scare her away. This had already meant more than you could ever say.

Instead, you swirl the whipped cream high. Letting your hand squeeze hers for just a second, as you pass it over.

From the way she smiles - you think she understands.

You almost make it home without an incident. Should have known by the way Wade’s hand swung in yours. Whistling a bastardized version of christmas carols a little too cheerfully - Logan’s knuckles brushing against his on the other side.

A block away from their apartment, before he’s eying you.

“So did you have fun, gorgeous?”

“Yes,” You answer, suspiciously, “Why did you ask it like that?”

“Dunno,” The whites of his eyes curve into half-moons, “Guess I’m just a little sore from you eye-pegging me every time I bent over.”

There’s a rough huff of a laugh, as your head whips to the side. Unable to help the smile, the roll of your own eyes.

“Was it the suit?”

His fingers flick at the cotton-balled end of the hat he still wears. The red velvet a deeper shade than his suit - a stolen memento from his brief stint passing out presents.

“Because if it was, Al’s car is parked right over there.” Wade’s voice drops, “Plenty of time for the ol’ Bad Santa and a hose-down before she gets home. Hell, if we get in the back seat she might not even notice-”

“Not from that suit.” Logan interrupts, his eyebrow lifting when his head turns your way, “You got a thing for leather, sweetheart?”

“Oh thank god.” Wade sighs, “You know I’ve met Santa? Tried to kill him, actually. Long story, it was for the children, but let’s just say he would not be happy about this impersonation.”

“It’s just your suits.” You clarify - turning to face them, as you stand at the entrance to the apartment, “But specifically, you in your suits. It’s just-”

Unable to help the grin, the shake of your head, “Ovary-exploding, really. Truly not fair.”

Logan’s look darkens, as heat floods through your cheeks, “That what’s had your heart racing all night?”

It distracts you, for just a moment.

You frown.

“How long have you been able to hear our heartbeats?”

Had he always? Did he spend weeks knowing how you and Wade felt about him - only to pull back, waiting?

The hungry edge sharpens - a sideways, lingering glance towards Wade.

“Just since I’ve started listening.”

Laura’s words burn through you, the memory of them melding with his look, settling low in your belly.

“Fuck.” You breathe.

Wade makes a sound of agreement, as he steps closer. Red pressing against yellow, as they cage you in against the front door.

“Seconded, babe. Clean up on aisle my pants.”

Logan scoffs, a glance over his shoulder - eyebrow cocked.

“That’s what did it for you?”

“What?” Wade shugs, “You know that emotional intimacy turns me on.”

A low growl as a red-gloved hand drops for an indulgent squeeze, before he’s reaching for the handle.

“Now let’s get inside before we make the naughty list for indecent exposure.”

“Is this what you wanted?”

Logan’s eyes are milky-white beneath the cowl. Jawline sharp with the cut of blue, framing the curve of his lips.

“You’ve seen it before.”

Snapshots of moments. Picking you up from work, as they’re on their way home from Sister Margaret’s.

Minutes snatched in the early morning - peeling away from a shared bed, letting you doze as they quickly suit up. Leaving the thoughts to burrow into your fantasies.

“Not like this.” You sigh, letting your fingers trace over his chest piece. Stepping close enough until you can smell the cling of leather and metal.

His strong frame even more broad, with the curved shoulder pads. Fearsome - and it makes your breath catch as your palm flattens over his heart.

“You want us to fuck you in our suits?” Wade’s voice croons in your ear - hand curling around your waist, tugging you back against him, “That what you’ve been thinking about?”

The lower-half of his mask tugged up, lips pressing against the soft space under your ear. Feeling what Logan hears - the hammer of your heart beneath skin.

“Yes.” You moan. Liking the feeling of being between them now, the chill of the leather and kevlar against your heated skin.

Unable to help the turn of your head. Meeting his mouth, the swipe of his tongue as his palm smoothes along your shoulder, down to your wrist. Fingers curling around, guiding your hand until it cups against yellow leather.

A command, breathed out against your lips.

“Then get him out and ready for us.”

There’s the sharp inhale of breath, a shift of Logan’s hips into your hand. You smile - lips touching down at the places your fingers linger.

His chin, the blue curve of cowl. Down the panels of his chest, the ridges that line up with the abs beneath.

A little frown as you thumb at his belt buckle, as you sit back on your heels. The red X fixed in place, the clasps still unknown to you.

“Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.” Logan husks, chin lifting as his hands curl around his belt - a nod towards the pretty clothes you wore to the party.

You bite back a grin, as you follow - matching his speed.

A sweater exchanged for the loosening of his belt. Rising up so you can shimmy out of a skirt, as his zipper lowers.

Letting it pool against the floor - your tights peeled off next - as he eases himself out.

“Fuck, gorgeous.” Wade breathes, just as your tongue peeks out to drag up Logan’s shaft, “You were hiding that away all night?”

The matching lace set you wear beneath. Not that you were planning *this,* but with Althea away for the weekend you had certainly been hoping.

Logan makes a rough sound of assent, as you take him between your lips. Velvet throbbing against your tongue as you moan around him - working him to full hardness.

Your nose brushing against the armor as his fingers trace along the strap at your shoulder. A low rumble in his throat, hips canting into the warm suck of your mouth.

Spit pooling on your tongue, as your hand curls around him - a slow pump as your head bobs.

“Get Wade ready, too.” Logan’s hand spans the back of your neck, easing you off him, “Gonna take both of us tonight, right?”

“Oh fuck,” Wade hands settle on his belt - pleased that Logan is playing along with your fantasy, “Yes.  Thank you-”

But this you know how to do - a kiss against the heft of Logan’s dick before you’re reaching for Wade. Fingers replacing his, slipping against the hidden zipper.

Lips pressing against the bulge, his hips shifting forward. Hard and leaking when you work him free. A soft sound as your lips wrap around him, swallowing him down.

Eyes shut, as you feel the weight against your tongue. Trying to take him down to the root, his hand cradling your jaw.

Flicking back open to peek up at him - the now-bare lower half of his face, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

Teasing him, with the way you hold him in your mouth. Eyes shut as your tongue licks against the scarred skin, another lewd curse slipping from him.

Reaching for Logan again, your fist sliding against slick skin. He shifts closer, shoulder nudging Wade’s. A red-clad glove shifting to his ass again, but he only groans when you come back to him.

The old rug scrapes against your knees. Leaving a glossy print against their hips as you alternate the press of your lips.

Your hands wrapped around the base of their cocks. Angling them into your mouth as you lick and suck. Stroking, as your saliva smears against their skin, heat curling in your belly at the way they surround you.

Leaning into your touch, the familiarity of it. Skin apit-slick as the tip glides against your lips. Saliva pooling on your tongue, as you let it drip down his shaft.

Kisses peppered against yellow and red, as hands wander. The straps loosened on your bra, until they’re palming at your tits.

Low grunts melding with your sighs, as they shift closer. A slow shift until you’re fixed between them - a calculated look thrown their way before your fingers wrap around their shafts.

Another inch closer. Letting the tips nudge together, eyes half-lidded in fascination as spit strings between them.

Twin sounds slipping through the air, huffed breath and low grunts. Teasing them, before wrapping the curl of your hand around Where they touch.

There’s a growled-out “fuck”. A hand that cups the back of your head, easing you back to them. Your tongue peeking out to drag across each tip when your fist slides back.

A slow back-and-forth - hips pumping into the clutch of your hand, just off-sync from each other.

“Gonna make Lo come, gorgeous.”

It’s answered with a huff that comes out strangled.

Your eyes rove across him. Across thick thighs, the gape of his suit at his base and the dark smattering of hair beneath.

Up to the curve of Logan’s chest. Where his head tilts down, eyes dark above the broad suit.

Sharp points of his teeth, between parted lips.

“That right?” You coo, “Want you to. Look so good like this, baby.”

Reaching, your nails dragging against the yellow and blue. The slightest lean into your palm, as if he wishes it were against bare skin.

Logan makes a low sound - turning rough as Wade’s hand reaches across. Curving around his shaft, stroking. Tighter, rougher than you would - the leather creaking as his fist twists.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Wade hums, “Only took 24 years but it was well worth the wait, peanut.”

“You look good too, honey,” You can’t help but grin up at him, as your head turns. Tilting to press a kiss against his hip, as his hand keeps stroking, “Know I can’t never get enough of you like this.”

He laughs - a twist of his hips, the heavy swing of his cock as his tilts his ass towards you.

“Don’t have to butter me up, gorgeous. This thing is goddamn painted on and I thank Graham Churchyard every day for it.”

You laugh, before letting the curl of your tongue tease them again. Eyes tipping up to find Logan’s, as you let the tip slide against your lips again. Letting them part, as Wade tugs.

It’s too much.

There’s the sharp grit of teeth. Breath huffed out, a hand twisting roughly in your hair as you coo out his name.

You just manage to catch the low rasp of warning before Logan is spilling across your tongue. His release painting your lips, a smear across your chin before you’re able to take him into your mouth.

Swallow him down, as Wade works him empty.

If he were a lesser man, his knees would buckle.

Instead, he slips from you. Sinking down slowly, those blown-dark eyes on yours as he thumbs at his mess. Scooping the drip from your lip, feeding it back to you. Letting your teeth nip at his thumb, when it presses down against your tongue.

Mouth slotting to yours after, hands cupping your jaw. A hungry groan, with the soft swipe of his tongue.

Guiding you back to Wade, as he shifts behind you, your back pressed snugly against his chest.

“Come on, pretty girl.”

Wade’s fist is already working. The rough slide of leather-on-skin, lips parted with a groan.

He likes a show. Likes the way there’s still a hand around your neck. Another twisted in your hair, tilting your face up, though you need no coaxing.

Your tongue is already out. Pink and waiting, eyes set side-by-side as you and Logan both watch.

“Oh, baby girl.” Wade coos, a stutter in the flick of his wrist, “You belong on your knees, don’t you?”

Your eyes crinkle with your smile, head tilting back further. His eyes slide over your shoulder - a flash of teeth as he grins, too.

“Not leaving you out, Lo. I mean - raw, next question.” He tells Logan, “People’s Magazine knew their shit in 2008. Can’t say the same about now. I mean, Krasinski? I’m offended for you, frankly-“

There’s a rough hum, but there’s no bite behind it. Cozy in his afterglow, a shift of his hips against yours. The minute tightening of his grip, and if you didn’t know better - you might have thought he’d liked it.

Wade’s cock taps against your tongue.

“Tell me how much you want it.”

You can feel yourself clench at his words. Aching for something to fill you - tempted to drag Logan’s hand down.

“Wade, please.”

You can hear the whine in your voice. The need - throat flexing against Logan’s palm.

Wade’s white eyes narrowing. Teeth bared as he pants. Logan’s impatient huff, his voice coming low.

“Stop fucking around, Red.”

His hand joining - overlapping. Increasing the pressure as Wade groans, the tip gliding across your tongue, between your lips.

“Can’t a guy want a little praise, too?” Wade huffs, but you can hear it - how it slips from him, breathless.

Logan’s laugh is rough, “That right? Then be good, and come for us.”

“Jesus fuck-”

It slips from him as a rattled gasp, two more pumps and then he’s coming. Logan’s other hand keeping you in place, as Wade purposely makes it messy.

Against your tongue, lips, chin. Logan’s knuckles, dripping against the divots.

They’re offered to you. Brough up to your lips - your tongue dragging across each one, before Logan’s mouth presses against yours.

Groaning at the way you still taste like him. Like Wade, like you - deepening the kiss until you’re left breathless.

“Wish I could take you both.” It’s almost whined out. Eyes glassy, as his thumb swipes against your chin. Dipping between his lips, as Wade drops down to his knees to join you.

Unable to take them the way you want to. Frustrated with having to choose - a messy kiss that started at one shaft, ending at the other.

Logan chuckles - the sound a rough rumble in his chest, before he lets Wade taste himself on his tongue.

“Mm. I think we can manage that.”

This what you needed.

Not that you didn’t like before. You still shiver at the thought, the pinch of their fingers. Logan’s hand at your throat. The way Wade moaned. His words.

But you’re mindless, now. A lazy, figure-eight of your tongue. Jaw opening wide to suck, trying to see if they’ll both fit.

Propped up against a strong chest and abdomen, hardened with the armor. Your hazy concentration only marred by the wet drag of a tongue between your thighs.

You’re sure Logan’s working too hard. If he wanted to taste you, he only had to part his lips. Surely, you must be dripping for them.

“Goddamn. Hope y’all are hungry,” Wade coos, “because I am stroganoff this beef.”

You groan, as the curl of his thumb and finger - his grip stretched wide - flick towards the pink peek of your tongue.

It’s Logan’s idea, but Wade’s design.

A careful positioning, like before.

Funny how pliant Logan’s become, in these weeks since the beginning. Back when he was as stiff-backed as the chair he sat on. That crumpled paper in his fists. Snarling. Protesting. Denying.

Now, he let himself be pushed back on the mattress. Cock already half-hard with the prospect of more.

Narrowed eyes as Wade had nudged his thighs wider, settling between them, but he had only cooed.

“Don’t forget - gonna make you beg for it.” A kiss pressed against a knee, as Wade had patted his flank. “Only then, honey badger.”

“You wish.” It’s huffed out - paired with an eye roll, half-hearted and hidden beneath his cowl. His gaze simmering after, considering, as hands tug at your hips.

Guiding you into place - a low rumble when Logan’s gifted with your knees pressed into the bed on either side of his face.

All the better for you to taste them.

Twin sighs, when Wade’s bare hand had wrapped around - his teeth already sinking into the leather tip of his gloves, ripping them free.

Spitting into his palm, impatient. Your eyes fixed on how their skin grew slick, as Wade lined them up.

Pressing together. Fully hard by the time your head had dipped to taste them.

They slip against your tongue now, as a hand grasps at your waist. Using you as an anchor as Logan’s hips shift, chasing the sensations. Trying to tug you further against his mouth, dark eyes long closed in concentration.

Licking hungrily at your folds, the curl of a finger tugging your panties to the side. Stretching the elastic until it cuts into your skin, but it’s forgotten in the way the pleasure surges against the pointed flick of his tongue.

His cowl long tugged off, left on the side table. A hindrance, in his urge to bury his face against you - your hips rocking as you moan around their cocks.

Trying to take them deeper. Letting the drool drip from Wade’s cock down, to smear against the flushed shaft beneath. Your own fingers wrapping around, following Wade’s pace.

“‘s cute watching you try so hard. You should turn around, baby.” He coos - eyes flicking from your mouth to your eyes, “I know where we’d fit even better.”

Your rhythm stutters, as you catch up. You hadn’t been thinking about that. Content to take whatever they’d give you tonight, as many turns as they wanted to take.

But this - you must wear the consideration on your face, because Wade’s smile pulls wider.

“Think you could.” It’s murmured out, a soft challenge at the flicker of hesitation.

Another lick, before you're pulled back - head tilting, “I did, remember?”

“Last chapter,” He huffs, “I know, but-”

And his hips shift forward in a lazy grind, “Don’t you wanna know? Think we would really fill you up, gorgeous. Give you what you need.”

There’s a groan against your cunt, the body below you shifting.

It’s hard to concentrate, with the swipe of Logan’s tongue. The lazy lift of his hips, keeping the slow sweep of his cock against Wade’s.

And you consider them together, for a moment. The curling heat inside you twisting, the flames fanning higher.

“Don’t think I can.”

It’s regretful, but Wade only hums.

“You took my fist.”

Logan groans into your cunt, as the heat rises to your cheeks.

“I, we-, we’d been drinking! We worked up to it!”

A crowning achievement during an anniversary week spent in Miami - the smell of coconut rum still makes you nauseous, even if the memories carry a hazy, golden glow.

His shoulder lifts, “We got all night, gorgeous. It’s your call.”

There’s a heartbeat of a breath. Logan going still beneath you, but you can feel the shifting pressure of his fingers against your skin.

You can’t deny that Wade was right. That you’re curious. Always had been, eager to push yourself to the limit just to see if you could.

And the thought of fitting both their cocks inside you, sharing the same space as they ruin you - something else new to experience with them.

Your nod is sharp, the look you send him heated.

Wade’s voice pitches low.

“Logan, work our girl open.”

His hand is already moving. Tracing along your hip, a thumb teasing at your opening,

“How many?” Logan rasps, as he sinks to the knuckle. Feeling how you already squeeze around him, wet and warm.

“Four.”

You’re left panting. A tremble in your thighs when the second fits in, Logan’s first two fingers nudged deep inside you. The careful stretch as he works you open.

Coming hard when he reaches three - crying out as his fingers crook again and again. So easy to find that soft spot inside you when you’re so full, when you’re angled so his tongue can flick against your clit. Letting you ride out the orgasm against his hand, the last lined up to slip in.

Wade’s hand slowing, but never stopping. A running commentary at just how “good you’re gonna take them both”, how he’s always thought that “two dogs in a bun looked right to him”.

The pleasure still thrumming inside you when Logan eases his hand free, his fingers shining with you.

Ones that slip between his lips as Wade flips you around - the cold kiss and chirp of ‘baby knife!’ against your hip, the lace panties cut from you as he settles your hips against the cradle of his. Coating their cocks with lube, snatched from the bedside drawer.

You can feel them slide against your folds, slick and heavy. Wade’s hand at your hip, layering where Logan held you. The other still wrapped around both of them, eager to guide.

“Hi,” You smile, as Logan’s hand cups the back of your neck. Tugging you down to kiss him, as Wade tugs your hips back.

The sweet tang of your release lingers on his tongue. A soft greeting rumbled back with the shine of his teeth, the grin pulling wider as they start to sink into you.

Swallowing the gasp that rips from your chest, eyebrows pinched with concentration. His other hand mirroring Wade’s on your hip. A soft pressure, easing you back.

Nudging the tips of both of them inside you. The dull ache from the stretch sings through you, your breath held as your eyes go wide. Logan’s thumb sweeping against your neck as he watches you take them, eyes flicking down to the shadows between your thighs.

Gently coaxing you to move - inching them deeper each time, your knees digging into the mattress as the sensations threaten to overwhelm you.

“I know,” Logan soothes, his voice low, “You can take it, sweetheart. Feels fucking incredible, you know that?”

His fingers pinching against your skin, as he hold himself back. Resisting the urge to bury himself fully in you - letting you set the pace.

Wade’s voice joining him, the sound rough “Mm, gonna give Nabisco competition with the way we’re double stuffing you, gorgeous.”

Not having the same restraint, his hips moving. Shallow thrusts, a ragged groan at the way you grip him, the slick drag of his cock against Logan’s.

An inch deeper, and then another. Wade shifting until his hand plants on the mattress, closing the open space between you.

Angling himself down, a needy groan when it increases the pressure of his cock against Logan’s. The slick slide against each other as he traps you between them, as they find their rhythm.

Logan’s thrusts shallow, though no less desperate than the grind of Wade’s hips. Teeth against your shoulder, panting breath in your ear as a broad hand palms at your tits.

The fullness before was not like this.

An indescribable pressure, how you stretch wet and tight and snug around them. Each thrust rubbing against spots inside you that leave you seeing stars. Pressed flush against Logan, your spit-slick clit grinding against the coarse hairs at the base of his cock.

It flushes any coherent thoughts from your head. Your face buried in his neck, trying to lift your hips to meet them. Sinking them just a little bit deeper with each slick thrust, until you’ve taken as much as you can.

“How’s she look?” It’s growled out, as your test your teeth against the leather collar of his suit. Barely-there imprints left behind - the suit as forgiving as their skin - as your moans are muffled.

The weight lifts from you, a hand braces between your shoulder blades as Wade leans back.

Heat curling inside you, rising to your cheek as the way he whistles - the grin you can imagine with his tone.

“Fucking perfect.” Two sharp thrusts with each word, and you clench with both, “Both of us inside you.”

Fingers trace where they fill you, as he hums with approval.

“That’s the way it should be. Don’t you think, baby?”

Your answering moan pitches high. Fingers curled where they grip on, cock-drunk and hazy. Pleasure licking inside you, and he can see the way you’ve gone tense in anticipation. Can feel the way you clench, and it only makes his hips snap harder.

“Know you’re close.” It comes out low, “Gonna make you squirt all over his suit. Make him wear you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Logan groans, as he babbles.

It works. It always fucking works and he always knows it - a pleased tone sinking in to the filth that pours from him.

“Fuck her, Wade.”

It’s snarled out, though not with anger, “Give her what she wants or I will.”

Fingers pinch at your nipples. The bed creaking with the lift of his hips - his pace slowed with the way both of you keep him pressed deep, resigned to the lazy pace Wade’s taken.

“So fucking bossy when you’re horny.” Wade huffs - the retort turning into white noise, as your focus narrows down to where you’re joined.

Each thrust taking you closer, and when he speeds up - grasping onto you, making you take it - it’s too much.

A warning is half-murmured out with panting breath, before your orgasm is ripping through you. Molten heat radiating down your limbs, as their hands roam. Tits and hips and the curve of your ass.

Wade leaning back, a hand cracking down against soft skin. Your shuddering moan as you clench helplessly around them, their cocks coated with your release.

He’s following soon after, pulled over with the tight clench. With the rub of Logan’s cock against his - a ragged groan, as he half-slips from you as he comes.

Words forgotten, as Wade shoots ropes of his spend inside you. Inching back to drip against your folds, the velvet shaft that still spears in you.

Logan’s hips jerk, pressing himself deeper. A low grunt as he takes over. Panting breath each time he tugs you flush, burying himself in the slick mess Wade left behind.

Pounding into you like he’s wanted to all night - fucking his boyfriend’s release deeper into you as you bounce on his cock. Jaw set as the air huffs through clenched teeth.

Wade’s hands at your waist, forcing the rhythm that starts to waver. His voice low in your ear, the devil on your shoulder.

“Tell him how good you’ve going to take his come, baby.”

A hand drifting, dipping down to rub circles against your clit.

“Gonna let him fill you up, isn’t that right? Sweet little pussy can’t get enough.”

“Please, Logan-” You whine, as the grip on your hips becomes bruising.

They make you insatiable, the way they tease and touch. The way they want you, can’t get enough.

It’s there in the way Logan’s eyes are on yours - tugging you down and flush as his orgasm rips through him, his cock throbbing deep inside you. It sets off your own release, squirming against Wade’s tireless touch, the rocking lift of Logan’s hips as he empties himself inside you.

Pulsing around him, a heady throb that radiates out from deep within - your moan melding with the low growl as he feels you come with him.

The grind of your hips slowing, as the pleasure slowly ebbs.

“Counting that as a joint effort, you’re not getting a point with the way you just laid there, pookie,” Wade’s lips press against your cheek, as you sag back against him.

Logan’s cheek twitches, liquid lead beneath you, “Always a fucking competition.”

There’s an affronted gasp.

“How dare you,” It comes out grave - Wade’s eyes narrowing, “A fucking competition is what brought us together in the first place.”

His mock-anger quickly forgotten, with a languid sigh, “Old Saint Nick can fuck right off because this is definitely what I wanted for Christmas.”

A sentiment that leaves you humming in agreement, as your hands brace on Logan’s chest. As your eyes drop - tracing the curves of armor, down to where he still spears into you.

Where his own already linger, where the yellow leather parts - the fabric slick and glossy. Stained with you. With them, where they drip from you, where you’ve been filled to the brim, and then spilling over.

You can’t pretend this isn’t what you wanted, as well.

You’re stretched out between them - bare skin between red and yellow. Drowsy in your fucked out haze. Leaning into the press of Wade’s lips.

Mouth, chin, throat. Teeth nipping, as his fingers drift across your curves. Down, until they’re slipping inside you. Swirling through the mix, melding their release together.

Logan’s chest pressing into your shoulder, as a hand hooks under your thigh. Opening you up wider, the lewd thrust of Wade’s fingers growing louder.

An inhale of breath, a low laugh against your neck. The mask tugged free from Wade’s face, lost in the tangle of the sheets.

“Just listen to you, baby.” He purrs, as his thumb rubs against your clit. Unable to help clenching around him, feeling how they drip out of you, “So fucking jealous, can’t remember the last time I was this full.”

There’s a low grunt from the other side.

“You really that desperate to get fucked, Wilson?” He drawls, fingers flexing against the hinge of your knee, “Just say when and where.”

“When.” Wade chirps, “Where.”

Logan laughs. Loose-limbed, a slow smile stretching across his face - stretching, as he yawns.

“Next time.”

Wade gives an aside glance.

“I’ll hold you to that, big boy.”

thank you for reading and for your patience! 💕 I have two more parts planned for them, and would love to have them up soon!