#moving asks over from the other blog...

[dunmertwink]

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[bluecubeblues]

Aren't you guys like able to fly or something?

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[oldestking]

    /  Been thinking about it for some time already but I think I might end up archiving this blog and revamping g.il on a diff blog

[muzzlemouths]

Psst. Just wanted to let you know that you're cool and I hope you have a really nice day today! You seem to be Goin Through It™ and I just wanted to let you know that we (your followers) like you no matter the quantity of stuff you're able to make at any given time (though we most certainly do like what you make, but that's not why most of us stay, I believe); you're very funny and have insightful opinions about writing, and you're always super nice when I stop by to say hi! Please remember to be kind to your mind and heart this upcoming Spring. I hope The Delights come into your life in leaps and bounds, and that you'll receive good news soon!!! <33

ooh...ohh.h.....th.ank you for the kind words........

[showfallmediacameracrew]

let's maybe Not be passively suicidal? just maybe? it'd be better for you if you tried to work on that?

i dont know what that means, are you talking about the new thing ive heard some newer streamers mention that they claim is called mental health? that surely isn't an actual thing.

im not passively doing anything, much less whatever that word is, im actively content and resigned to being stuck here forever. even death will not be an escape as youll just come back anyway if the higher ups continue to have use of you.

[vilevexedvixen]

"One sided beef"

@sunshinecatie I tried explaining myself, you went "I'm sorry you're hurt" rather than actually apologising.

You willfully misrepresented my opinion that Ed wouldn't kill Jon over him and Susan consensually banging based on canon dialogue rather than buried fics and roped Dee into it instead of just agreeing to disagree until pushed to do so.

I reached out to understand what went wrong. Twice. The second time when I realised your reasons still did not make sense. You WERE upset, why? Wording. What wording? I did not put "I think" at the start or otherwise phrase my opinion as an AU, OC or headcanon.

You doubled down and kept making it about wording when I, like Lunar, say what I mean and the aggression you took from it (on the discord) was projection on your part. However, this post is what it looks like when I am actually angry at you.

Which became a snowball self-fullfilling prophecy because you kept claiming I was angry in the original interaction when I wasn't (which in itself was aggrevating). Eventually making me genuinely angry.

At this point, I:

a. Neither expect nor deserve forgiveness from you or anyone you consider a friend

b. Do not trust the discord to be a safe space for anyone except those you already consider a friend, which is why I left. Because it quickly turned out to not be a fun Rogues fandom chat, and instead Catie's Corner.

c. Do not trust the sincerity of anything you say, given how thoroughly you have repeatedly warped my very straightforward frustrations with your inability to live and let live different interpretatons of canon text (you were only ok with the idea of Ed's actions being confined to an AU, OC or headcanon; when discussion of canon text is very standard procedure in fandom and the act of doing so in itself is not reason for upset, but it proved to be for you, which is why I started to consider you a more controlling person - which likely does not reflect yourself generally).

If you were actually going to reach out to rekindle a nonexistent friendship, you would have. Don't pretend you actually give a shit when you have done nothing but deny, deflect and distance. That is an especially shallow attempt to gage sympathy instead of actually doing better. You don't care about "fixing things", all you care about is making this (me) go away so you don't have to deal with it.

I also do not expect you to agree with my perspective on things, given how prone you have proven to be to misinterpreting people.

So let me be clear.

I was not angry in the discord when all this started.

I am now very angry for how you refused to see that I was not originally angry and instead focussed entirely on how you disliked how you felt I was saying you were "wrong".

You are not "wrong".

I did not say you were "wrong".

My phrasing, to anyone but you, clearly did not even imply you were wrong. It was a disagreement / counterpoint sure, but nothing argumentative or insulting.

Let me repeat.

Me disaggreeing with you does not mean you are wrong!

Also! If people besides me DO for whatever reason think you are wrong, then THAT IS OK!

Disagreement is not invalidation.

Your focus on thinking I needed validation was honestly a bit perplexing.

I was baffled you freaked out over me thinking Ed wouldn't do X. Because whatever I think about Ed doesn't mean you need to think the same thing. I gave my reason for why I thought what I thought. That wasn't an argument. That was just making sure you understood why I thought that about Ed, even if you don't agree.

I vented my anger on my personal account because I did not want to bother people but still wanted to get out how I felt. I have virtually no following, so considered it basically posting into the void the same as any other rant post. I thought the block would keep the post local to my blog. Trying to rebuild this bridge while I still had this box of matches in my pocket would not end well. I would be holding in everything I grew to hate about you through gritted teeth. I do not think like you do, I need actual closure to move on and that is not possible here.

I was frustrated that at every point I attempted to talk to you, you never listened and we just came out further misunderstanding each other.

==>You are not at fault. <==

Silence doesn't feel like mending, or peace, just an indefinite continuation of whatever note was left on.

I also am not vague posting. I am very specifically posting about my exact feelings about fandom discourse and the ways I disagree with your attitude towards it. My non-fandom rants are not about you, your actions have however triggered (inappropriately, I must add) those non-fandom (trauma / mental health) rants.

No it is not your fault. No this is not an attempt at pity farming. It just happens sometimes. Sometimes things people do remind me of past abusers (and yes, your misunderstandings, mannerisms and thought patterns (in terms of what you share online) very closely resemble a narcissistic abuser of mine I have since cut ties with. Does that mean you are narcissistic or abusive? No. The similarities are likely entirely superficial, but it does explain (though not excuse) the misfire), and that exacerbates whatever more mild feelings were initially experienced into a full-blown episode. Again, no that is not your fault, it is just a thing that happens that I am working on and has genuinely improved from the shit show it was before starting medication.

I love the Rogues Podcast. I'm glad you enjoy it as much as I do. I have since 2015, I think. Long before I started social media or any community interaction. I have come to not love the community, which IS yours more than it is Dee's and Codot's, especially these days.

Asking questions is not the issue, it's how you lord yourself over others for being someone asking Dee and Codot questions that is the issue. Again, you are not listening.

For the sake of levity, and because it is how I feel:

One measly interview does not grant you the authority you seem to think you have. You can reframe my anger however you wish, but that does not change the fact that at no point have you actually listened to a single thing I have been trying to tell you that others have perfectly understood without issue, making it clear it isn't my wording.

This is actually why I partially blamed your behaviour on you being American. Silly, I know. But in all the communities (with a mix of fans from across the globe) I have enjoyed interacting with, it has always been American fans that start shit and blame it on me / something innocuous I said. Always.

Granted, that was only one or two other times (once with a Legend of Korra fan and another with a far right Fallout fan) so my sample size is small but still.

Autistic people aren't all the same. It stands to reason that speech and mannerisms will generally differ across countries. What wording you need to feel unbothered is VERY specifically with added reassurance. In the discord I felt like I needed to follow up everything with something to go "You're valid (Catie)!" to keep you placated. It's not like I waltzed in there are picked the fights that ended up happening. I waltzed in their and started talking about Rogues and other stuff I like.

This is a side-tangent, but my feelings towards the ways we miscommunicated with each other are much like my mum's feelings towards most software she uses for work demanding the use of American spellings and American grammar even when set to "British English", which is clearly a completely superficial setting that doesn't actually adhere to British grammar and spelling.

So I lashed out in frustration. And rather than confront me yourself, you called upon Codot and the discord to do it for you, or at the very least so they would hear your version of the story first so they come into this with your story already in mind. Telling people you treat like goons to tell me to back off doesn't work. It just validates my unflattering view of you. Sorry.

I have tried to be as clear as possible in this post.

If it upsets you, fine.

The only thing I ask is that you please do not feel threatened or upset when people besides me discuss Rogues!Ed (and the Rogues podcast as a whole on a deeper level than just "Wow! I LOVE that character!", "That line was SO funny!", etc.). Not as an AU, OC or headcanon, but just how they see them in text. Otherwise this will happen all over again, just with someone else. And it will be your fault.

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[teeskzagain]

˚‧‿₊୨୧₊You're Such A Brat₊ ˚‧୧₊︵‧ ˚ ₊

» pairing: arrogant!sunghoon x bratty!reader

» summary: since high school, park sunghoon has been the absolute bane of your existence. you’ve always viewed him as a stuck-up snob, and he has always seen you as a whiny brat. you aren’t sure why your mother still thinks of you two as friends, you can hardly stand being in the same room as each other. while at home from college one night, your mother surprises you with news of a work event she and mrs. park will be attending. the catcher? mrs. park’s nightmare of a son is going to be forced to spend the evening at your house…..

» warnings: college au, lots of arguments (both are toxic af), lowkey manipulative on both ends?? t e n s i o n, one scene depicting choking, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP), extremely rough sex, enemies….to…?, lil unserious in the beginning, reader and sunghoon genuinely detest one another (but isn’t that the best😫) mean!dom sunghoon, bratty!sub y/n, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), degrading kink, teasing, heavy/aggressive make-outs, breasts play, masturbation (f. - reader masturbates to fake scenario), humiliation kink, dirty talk, reader used to be affiliated with p.sh, orgasm denial + fingering, ass + pussy slapping, slight mentions of lee heeseung & sim jake...

» w.c: 11.5k (no wonder why it took forever!)

» a/n: would like to apologize for the delay!! but, it's finally here. please let me know if i should do more enha works.

» taglist: @indigoez @jakeswifez @aanniikkaa @slut4hee @heeknow @rairaiblog-blog @no1likeneo @d-dilemma @soobingf-blog @shuaxzcake @mingyuslice @heelovesmeknot @mitmit01 @hpnsfwaddict @jooniesbears-blog @pasteltheghost16 @goodforgyu @sunghoonsbigcoketip

"Why do you have to leave?" With a droopy face, you annoyingly complain- yet again -to your mom about her rude decision of abandoning you.

She rolls eyes- yet again -at your antics and continues to put up the last bits of groceries, "It's a simple work event, Y/N. I'm not sure why you're being so stubborn right now. Plus, you used to love when Sunghoon and his mother came over."

You shudder at the mere mention of his name, "That was before he became such a stuck up fucking prick-"

That line earns yourself a disapproving, 'Y/N!' and in turn you retract your statement with a couple of half-assed, 'sorry, sorry'.

Though, in your head, you knew you held back from saying worse things.

Your mother sighs deeply as she finishes shoving the last few items into the fridge before spinning around to face you, "I'm not asking a lot from you, just entertain the boy or something while we're out. Is that really too difficult?"

She lets her question hang in the air for a second, then proceeds to move from the kitchen to the living room. However, if she thought she could escape you, she would be dead wrong. Because you're not far from her in step.

"Okay, new question." You propose which earns another groan from Mom. You stop in place when she leans over to dust the couch off with her hands, " Since you and Mrs. Park are carpooling to the event, I understand why she's coming here. But does he really have to come too? Why can't he just stay at his own damn-.....d-dang, house?"

When she straightens herself out, she bears a look of plead in hopes that this is truly the last of your inquiries, "His mother is the one who suggested it. And if we're being truthful, you and Sunghoon used to be so......" she pauses, looking for the right word, "....so cute when the two of you were close."

A hand flies to your mouth as you internally gag at your mother's words. Cute? Maybe 10 years ago, when you both were still in elementary. But that was before he had the chance to grow into his unbearably horrid of a personality.

Granted, you partly blamed his high school friend group for his abominable transformation. While, yes, you did agree that Sunghoon just naturally held the asshole gene, you were also certain that hanging around and slinging dicks with stupid Sim Jake and stupid Lee Heeseung, surely wasn't going to help this fact either.

Disgusting pricks. All of them.

You lower your hand slowly, "Please don't remind me of that time."

"For the love of-" She excuses herself from your vicinity and struts back into the kitchen, "Honey, I don't understand how you could be acting like this. I thought once you two went off to university together, things would be different by this point."

Oh. It's different alright.

Instead of the harsher stares he used to simply give in high school, Sunghoon has upgraded his abrasiveness to terrible comments directed towards your character. Any chance possible, the two of you would butt heads even more than your previous encounters. On campus, in passing, at parties; if you saw him anywhere, you just knew something would be said.

On top of that, it also doesn't help that his buffoon bunch of friends followed him to the same college as you. And, you had to see them everywhere.

You figured once you came home, you could enjoy a week of internal peace. Free from the many stressors that come with university. Now, your mother seems to disregard any of your warnings and wants to let the main stressor inside of your house?

"Can I add as well," she speaks up in the absence of your voice- you had been too busy pouting- "I know the two of you share the same English class, and according to his mother, he's been excelling at his papers."

At the insinuation, your mouth drops agape, however, she disregards the reaction and continues on, "You can ask for some pointers from him."

"Absolutely not." There was no way that could've been an option. Firstly, you would never hear the end of it from Sunghoon: ‘Oh, you want help from me? I didn’t realize you were so awful at this,’ and then it probably would’ve been followed up with, ‘Well, I can’t say I’m too surprised. You’re not the…brightest person I’ve met.’

Annoying bastard.

He would never let you live that down, and frankly, you didn't want to give him anymore ammo to shoot you in the face with. Henceforth, that couldn’t be an option. Not if you wanted to keep your sanity.

Your mother regards you intently, and slowly begins to shake her head. She couldn't do it anymore, didn't know what more to say; a wall has clearly been put up and you are as strong as steel, not letting anything through. As she's left puzzled on how to refute your statement, a ping from her phone catches her eye briefly.

She casts her gaze downwards, keeps it there for a few seconds, and then she's looking back up at your contorted face.

"Well, sweetie,” a strained smile begins to spread, “You should probably fix that attitude of yours. They just got here." The doorbell ringing acts as a nail in the coffin, confirming your mother's words.

“You’ve got to be-”

She interrupts your complaining to tell you to get the door, so she can run upstairs and grab her purse. You're quick to bellow out a groan, but she's even quicker to shut that down, and instructs you to do it immediately while half-way up the staircase.

Once she disappears, you amble sluggishly towards the front, and as you're about ready to swing it open; a long, harsh breath is exhaled from the other side followed by a grumble.

"You better be nice to her or I swear Sunghoon...."

It's Mrs. Park, who's voice seemed to have a combination of both sincerity and aggression laced in it. Your eyebrows furrow, listening harder.

"Yeah, yeah. Be nice to the brat, I heard you the first 4 other times." He finishes with his own irritated huff.

Your expression goes wide at that. Is he fucking serious? Did he really just call you a brat? You. A brat? You're mind relishes in disbelief.

"Sunghoon!" His mother responds with, and more indistinct talking arose. However, while their voices grew quieter your annoyed levels skyrocketed. You begin to think that it's quite plausible….someone might die tonight.

"Y/N! Did you grab the door yet?" Your mom yells from her bedroom.

You do a double-take as you match her volume, "I'm doing it right now!"

Unbolting the locks, you pull back the piece of wood to reveal a very eager Mrs. Park, staring at you with smiley eyes. Sweeping your gaze right, there stood the ever straight-faced and stoic Park Sunghoon.

Even as you do a once over at his appearance- black hair fringed on his forehead, hands shoved into his long, sleek coat, and black sweats that barely poke out from underneath -you find it so, incredibly jarring that this came out of the always cheery Mrs. Park.

He didn't even try to smile, unlike you who beamed out a grin towards them, "Hello Mrs. Park! It's been so long since I last seen you.”

Dissimilar to her son, Mrs. Park is ready to envelope you into a warm hug. She extends her arms out and the two of you intertwine in a genuine and comforting embrace.

"Oh! Y/N! It truly has been a while," when she draws back, you watch her scan your face with an affectionate smile, "You just get more and more beautiful every time I see you." At the last second, she peeps over towards her son for encouragement, "Right, Hoonie? Doesn't she look lovely?"

His impassive eyes regard his mother, then ever so leisurely does he drag them onto your stature. The moment eye contact is made, you shift anxiously. Because why the hell is he looking at you like that?

You start to play with the hem of your oversized hoodie, which flowed nicely into your oversized sweatpants. Anyone with eyes could tell you’re not dressed for company. Hair messy from laying around, hardly any make-up on.

Clearly, you weren’t expecting anyone today. Nonetheless, someone who took so much pride in his appearance. You almost felt jealously from it. Like he’s somehow proving the point that he’s better in almost every way- clothing included. It’s infuriating.

With a single look up and down, Sunghoon cocks his head slightly before giving his answer, "No."

Intense bickering between mother and son start up, and you're left standing with a twitching eye of vexation as already you sense your patience running thin. Your fingers curl inwards to form a fist. It hasn’t even been 30 seconds and you feel like punching him.

"I am so sorry about him, Y/N. I don't- I don't know what his problem is..." She stops midway to address another mumble from the boy. The two have a minor quarrel this time, and then she’s back to focusing on you, ".....ah, may we come in?"

It takes your full strength to squeak out an, 'absolutely', despite your innate feelings. With a step back, you widen the door to appear more welcoming and the two of them step inside of your house.

Mrs. Park instantly calls out to your mother, with her shouting back at Mrs. Park, and when it's Sunghoon's turn to walk past, you couldn't help but notice the somewhat aggressive breeze he emits as he pushes through you.

A part of you could’ve sworn you also heard him mutter something in passing, but regardless, you decide to let that go instead of calling him out. Taking in a deep breath and exhaling, you hope to soothe the ever growing nerves that’s been caused so far.

Remember, self-control. Right, that is a thing and you are more than capable of exhibiting it. So, keep your cool. Try not to blow up. At the very least, if not for yourself, then for the sake of both your mother and Mrs. Park.

Yes, for them. You can do this for them. Just simply don’t engage and all will be well.

You repeat this to yourself a few more times as you close the door. All will be well if you let it be. Now feeling better, you flip around to see your mom make a descent back down into the living room, a purse now dangling from the crevice of her elbow.

She sashays up to Sunghoon’s mother, and the two women squeal in delight as they engulf one another. It’s admirable how much they care for each other, proving why they became such good coworkers then friends. You also find it adorable how similar their outfit choices are, with both of them sporting a dark blue dress.

Once they part, your mother turns her attention over towards the previously brooding boy. Though, you find it interesting how Sunghoon seems to have an easier expression now.

"Sunghoon, you're too tall! How am I supposed to reach you?" She gushes while brining him in for hug. A light chuckle dances out of him, and after a brief second they're pulling back from one another. Mrs. Park jumps in on the conversation about her son.

They begin to go on and on about all of his accomplishments; 'Oh! Sunghoon I heard you're doing excellent in your courses,' and, 'You are so involved with the community, it’s wonderful to see that someone’s trying.’ It’s sickening to see the immediate chokehold he has on the women, you observing the conversation emotionlessly.

After their near 20 minute rant (or what felt like it) finally your mother remembers your presence and decides to rope you in. She ushers you to come closer, and after a hasty back and forth, you scoot only mere inches into the circle, closer to him.

"You've been scoring well on your essays, Sunghoon, isn't that right?" Your mom starts and you want to scream right then and there.

He affirms her question with a swift nod, "Yes. I have."

"I don't think he's gotten below a 91 on his papers." Mrs. Park chimes in, and you secretly curse your mother for where this topic is about to go.

Your mom's eyes brighten as she looks over to Sunghoon, "That's amazing to hear. Actually, I think Y/N could use some tips on a few of her past works. She's been getting marked off on nearly every single one of them and could use the help!"

He hums in amusement, raking his eyes until they rest on your scowl. You feel his stare on you as you cross your arms and side step away from him, "Was that necessary to bring up?”

"Oh," your mother waves a dismissive hand, "Nonsense, sweetie. I'm sure a few pointers from this one will help raise that C- you have."

"Mom!"

Before you could object any further, a gasp leaves Mrs. Park's mouth and quickly she’s pulling your mother off to the side. She just remembered some news from work. While the two women chat, you’re left to stand idly, eyes darting off to the side while a wave of quietness engulfs the air. Sunghoon remains silent, as well.

You sure as hell hadn’t planned on talking to him and if that meant silence would be bestowed, then so be it. It’s for the better, anyways. You’re trying a new approach at things, and if you're forced to converse with him, you’re afraid it’ll lead to someone getting choked out. Not you, by the way. So…to avoid conflict, silence it is.

A short sigh from Sunghoon interrupts your thinking. You do a quick glance up at the..irritatingly tall boy, and see his gaze is turned all the way left, side-profile on display for you. He must’ve picked up on your hostility, which is why he has not said anything, you believe. Good. He should know better than to get you riled-

“You have a C- in that class? Are you serious?”

Perplexed, you raise your eyebrows from the sudden outburst, “Excuse me?”

Is he really trying to start this right now?

He keeps his head faced away from you, then at the last second he twists it back and you see a new expression dawns on him. That of complete arrogance, “English Literature is a stupid easy class. I’m surprised to hear you’re doing poorly.”

As you open your mouth to shut up him, he proceeds further with his berating, “Then again,” he lets out a dry laugh, “I guess I shouldn’t be so shocked that you need me. You’ve always fell short when it came to academics.”

Sunghoon watches your face morph into pure anger, and as sick as it may be for him to admit it, this is where he finds true enjoyment. In the reactions you always give in the moments you feel wronged.

You do a short shuffle as you feel yourself releasing the chains of self-control. You knew he would act this way. He always does.

“Okay, so I’m not doing well,” you state matter-of-factly, “So. Fucking. What? I’d rather have a shitty grade in this class than beg some snobby prick for aid.”

You tried to hold back.

At the sudden drop of name calling, a bitter grin erupts onto his lips, “Like you deserve my help.”

“For the record, I never asked for it,” you throw a hand up as new found confidence starts to build up in your core, “But trust me. If I really needed you, then I would make you fucking help me.”

His eyes widen from your accusation, “You really think I would tend to you? Knowing your unruly attitude?” Disbelief switches onto his face, his thick eyebrows creasing together uncomfortably, “God. You’re such a brat.”

And just like that, you hit a snapping point. Without wasting another second, you begin to hurl every insult in the book his way, your rage boiling past whatever containment you thought you had. He’s ready to argue back at you when a light shriek stops both of you mid sentence.

"Oh, we need to get a move on it. I didn’t even realize the time. It’s about to be 7.” Your mother comments and you almost retort it with a snide remark on how inquisitive she's been about Sunghoon's life.

Mrs. Park trots her way towards the door, saying her final goodbye to her son along the way. Your mother shares her own words of departure, though it's mixed with your protest on her leaving.

"Alright kiddos, we'll try not to be too long." She speaks with one foot out the door, "Y/N, please treat our guest kindly."

You give the boy, who's now walked up and standing to the side of you, a deathly glower, "Get him the fu-"

"Y/N. Kindly, please." She reiterates with a sweet bite, and to that you could only sigh defeatedly.

Mrs. Park is not far behind your mother as she twists to address Sunghoon one last time, "Honey, please be-"

"Be nice, I know." He finishes in a sort of annoyed tone. Though after that, being nice is the last thing she would need to worry about.

With more reassurance, the two women give each other a passing glance, and soon after another round of goodbyes, the door closes shut.

Leaving you trapped here with your absolute nightmare.

With a deep groan, you stagnantly turn towards Sunghoon just as he’s twisting his body to reluctantly face you. Peering up through your eyelashes, you make absolutely sure he feels the unwelcomed signals radiating off of you as you go to speak.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

His eyes roll nearly out of their sockets as he starts to slip off his coat, "What happened to being kind to your guests?"

He mocks the words that were handed to you, and your eyes narrow while watching him hang the jacket on a nearby rack.

You notice his shirt of choice- now on display -is a tight black T-Shirt, curving and outlining all of the spots you hate the most about him. God, you think you just got even more annoyed.

Turning your nose upwards, you start to inch closer towards the staircase, "I couldn't care less about that, if I'm being completely honest." You do a full twirl so all Sunghoon can see is your back, "Here’s what you can do: either entertain yourself in the living room or get the fuck out. Choose whatever you want as long as it doesn’t involve me.”

He goes tight-lipped. You are just the epitome of an ungrateful little brat, holy fuck. Sunghoon shoots his vision away with a brief head shake. Despite his growing emotions, he knows it will be better to not engage. He really didn’t feel like fighting with you right now. Like how you both always manage to do.

Clearing his throat, Sunghoon begins to walk slowly towards the couch, his upper muscles flexing with every step, "Whatever. I'm not dealing with you tonight."

That makes you halt in your tracks. Dealing with you? What? Like you're some untrained puppy?

"No, I'm not dealing with you tonight,” you sneer back then scoff, retreating upstairs once again, “Just fucking stay down here and we won’t have any more problems.”

His back hits the couch cushion with a flop as he starts to call out to you, “Right. It’s not like the problem isn't taking itself upstairs at the moment!"

Oh, that touched a nerve. So much so that you find yourself shouting from the second story, having made it up there a few seconds prior, “You should’ve just stayed at your own fucking house!”

"Do you ever stop fucking talking?” He raises his voice back at you; maybe not quite to the extent of your screaming, but nonetheless you could hear him from upstairs.

Upon entering your room, you slam the door shut with all your might. You swear you even felt the floor shake from the force. Pissed doesn’t even begin to describe your emotions currently. You’re at a whole new level.

You're fuming. Chest huffing, fists clenched, ooh- you've never met someone who irked as badly as fucking Park Sunghoon had.

Why? Why? Why did he have to be in your home right now? Why did your mother think this was a good idea? And why did he have to look so nice with his stupid shirt and black joggers?

You begin to pace around your room.

He's messing with you, clouding your head with complex thoughts. If there's one thing you loathed most about the boy downstairs it's his ability to turn your brain to mush.

It's like all thoughts and rationality fly out of the window, and instead is replaced with....just nothing. Nothing but anger, resentment, and a tiny bit of something else however you're willing to suppress that for the time being.

You bring a thumb up to stroke your lip. Mind racing, your brain starts to piece together what you should do to alleviate this stress. You're going crazy, you recognized that, and you’re certain a distraction is needed for you to get your thoughts cleared.

As you think back to all that has you feeling so jumbled, a sudden surge runs throughout your core. No. You know what your body is attempting to do. And it’s not going to work. Even as another hits you and makes your thighs clench unwillingly, you hold on to your determination.

You can’t do it, you tell yourself. Especially when Sunghoon’s downstairs. It’s ridiculous. Unfathomable. There is no way you would…..

Moments later, you find yourself completely and utterly naked in your bed, deciding the best way to calm down is by having a….release. Your pulses started became too unbearable to ignore, leaving you with only one option. This option.

Is it the most convenient method of stress relieving? Well, probably not. But, truly, in times where you’re free to strip bare and dish out a quickie, you always find it leaves your mind feeling blissful.

And you desperately need that right now, because in all honesty, you aren’t sure what the hell you’re feeling right now due to Sunghoon.

As your brain is beginning to wonder, you absentmindedly brush the backs of your fingers against your lower stomach. Park Sunghoon. The name is like poison in your head, and you can’t find the damn cure for some reason.

Your hand drops a little lower. Thinking back on your most recent argument, you remember the eye contact you two held, before forcing yourself to break free from his gaze. You tilt your head, the memory becoming even more clear. That damn gaze.

…..if only he could use it from a different angle.

A sharp exhale flies out of your mouth as you realize you’ve made contact with your clit. You’re lighting swarming around the area while it continues to throb enticingly. A different angle? Like….one where he’s in between your legs, staring at you with those stupid fucking know-it-all eyes.

Your body responds well to that imagination, your hips slightly bucking into your hand to garner some friction. Would you two be on the bed? No, you think you like the idea of getting him on his damn knees and making him eat you out nice and slowly while on floor…a whole lot better.

He’d tried to take control, you already know his arrogant ass would. Yet, in reality, you will be the one calling the shots. If he starts to suck a little too much for your likings, one hair tug and he’ll slow down. Cause he’ll listen to you, you’ll make sure of it.

A small smile cracks out onto your face, focusing deeply on your sprouting pleasure. Yeah, you like the Park Sunghoon in your imagination a lot better than the one real life. Your fingers are now circling the bud, producing ripples of sensation that keeps your movements and thoughts going.

He’ll keep his attention fixed on you the whole time he’s devouring you, you assume. Because if there’s one thing about Sunghoon, he’ll love to see you come undone at the cause of him. Would love to see that sexy ass face you make right before you orgasm.

And the way your thighs will squeeze around his cheeks so perfectly, oh fuck him. He’d get so fucking horny from just tasting your sweet, sweet pussy.

Shutting your eyes, your vision explodes with images of your lewd thoughts, playing out your ideal fantasy. You can hear yourself start to whimper while your pelvis becomes more sporadic in the way it chases the coming feeling.

At the minute you tell him you’re close, he’d latch onto your clit, no plan on stopping. Scratch that, he probably couldn’t stop himself from finishing you out. You’ve been treating him so well up until this point. Letting him cum inside you, in your mouth; the least he could do is give you a head-splitting orgasm.

You rub your soaking cunt all over the palm of your hand, desperation coursing through your veins. Imagine annoying little Sunghoon, who’s only wish is for you to cum. To cum all over his face, down his own throat. He’s on his knees below you because he wants the full effect of seeing how much you’re letting yourself go from his tongue.

Then, with one long sucking motion, you’d fall apart. With your orgasm hitting you dead on your clit, you’d start to quiver on top of him while screaming out, ‘So fucking good, So fucking good. Fuck, you’re making me cum.’

Your hand speeds up to have you cumming alongside your scenario, your own real orgasm washing over you deliciously. It leaves your body stuttering and eyes rolling back into your head as you continue to work at your pussy during the duration. And all you could think about was how much you fucking hated stupid Park Sunghoon.

Once your high comes down, you firstly lay in your bed to recover. That had to have been one of your best and strongest impromptu session. Fuck, did you enjoy every part of it.

True to nature, as well, your mind is so foggy from the haze that you can’t even recall your earlier fury, which is now replaced with a more simple feeling: lust. You bask in the warmness that’s spreading and also give your cunt a chance to get desensitized, before swinging your legs off of the bed and walking over to your dresser.

It was starting to get hot with your thick layers on anyways, which is why you opt for thinner clothes. You pull out a pair of cotton shorts that stop upper thigh on you, and then a cropped T-shirt for simple comfort.

Needing to wash your hands quickly, you swiftly run into the connected bathroom to your room, lather your hands in soap and soon you’re rinsing yourself off. When finished with that, you smile contently as you walk back to your bedroom and flop down stomach first onto the mattress.

You really did feel better. Your anger has subsided by now, the orgasm keeps your mind still a bit dizzy, there were no complaints to be had. Now, you planned on spending the rest of your evening locked up in here so you can continue feeling as such. Boom, simple as that.

A loud buzz from your phone on the nightstand has you scrambling to reach it, that giddy feeling not once leaving. Though, once you flip it over to reveal a text from your mother, you feel your smile drop immediately.

8:09 PM

Mom:

Hey sweetie, just wanted to do a quick check-in on the two of you. I hope everything's going okay.

You begin to type out a borderline aggressive message back, something along the lines of how everything was not going okay, but another message swooshes in before you could even finish your own.

After doing some rethinking, you don’t need to ask Sunghoonie for help anymore. It wasn’t fair of me to put you in that position without asking you first. You’re old enough to make your own decisions now, and if you think you’ll be okay without asking him for help, then you can decide that. I’m sorry for making you feel as if you never had a choice.

You stop your rant midway, and look closer at the message. Oh. Oh. Oh….

“Mom…” With a frown, you watch as yet another message flies across your screen, and you find that you’re a bit more accepting of this one.

8:14 PM

Mom:

But, I do want to make sure that you are trying with Sunghoon. I understand as of right now, it may be difficult to do so, you two are apparently quite hostile. However, I’m asking if you can extend the white flag, at least for tonight. Make sure he’s not hungry, maybe you two can put on a movie downstairs. Just try and be cordial, that’s my only request. Can you do that?

Stomach churning, you begin to gnaw on your bottom lip right now, those complex emotions rising up again. Dammit. You seriously thought nothing more would come out of this situation tonight. You thought once you had your….release, you would be able to relax freely without any stressors.

But then you reread her latest text, and guilt surfaces in your heart. Maybe…you haven’t been putting in as much effort as you could have; you did just leave the boy downstairs to fend for himself. Is it possible for you to set your very, very strong feelings and just…suck it up for the sake of your mother?

You were accepting of this feat earlier.

A quick scroll up has you revisiting the first large paragraph she sent you, the one that acknowledges your feelings. Your mother is trying right now, and you register that it would be unfair of you to not try as well.

8:20 PM

Y/N:

okay mom, i can do that for you.

You're downstairs before you know it. After many, many, many mental preparations, you now feel ready to be within the same space as the devi- Park Sunghoon.

Approaching your living room, the pale yellow lighting illuminates Sunghoon's backside, giving you a clear view of him. With one defined arm stretched out on top of the cushion, Sunghoon seems entranced with the movie playing on T.V, not appearing to have noticed your presence.

You shuffle your feet against the floor until you slow to a halt. In the span of your waiting, not once does he turn around. The movie must be drowning out your existence. Pivoting, you opt to round out the couch and stand in the middle for visibility. Sunghoon keeps his eyes trained forward. Surely, he feels your presence now, even if he may not be acknowledge it.

Sticking your hip, you gently clear your throat, "Ahem."

He throws a cruel glare over his shoulder before reverting back to his previous position, no comment to be left from him. You're standing still, okay then...

You dart your eyes away to view something else, then sweep them back over to his body, “Are you…hungry?”

A look of bewilderment dawns on his face as he shoots you a perplexed look, “Why are you asking me that? Wouldn’t you rather have me starve?”

“I-” you try to rebuttal his claim, but incriminatingly you start to avoid eye contact with him, “No. Not necessarily…”

Yeah-fucking-right. He highly doubts that's true. Instead of replying, Sunghoon turns back towards the television. Silence remains. You follow his eyesight to watch a couple of seconds of the movie. Well, so much for trying.

You continue to stand awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your torso and rocking yourself back and forth slightly. Just try. Just try. Just. Try.

"Park Sunghoon." You mumble out and he snaps his attention towards you. If not for your eyes lurching up to look at the ceiling, then maybe you would have noticed the surprise once over he does to your outfit.

“What?”

You look down again, and try to shake the embarrassment that’s clawing at you. Just try, “C-Can I watch this with you?” Holy fuck that felt harder to say.

Sunghoon squints his eyes as he tries really hard to figure out what the hell is your deal. Merely an hour ago, the two of you were having a screaming match, and now you’re fidgeting and asking to be in the same room as him….willingly?

He doesn’t buy that for a second.

He drags his pupils up and down your frame, his greedy eyes wanting to drink in more of it, but at the realization of what he was doing, he forces himself to look away. Willingly? Yeah, no. He figures your mother would be the cause for this. Only reason he says this: his own mom sent a text not too long ago telling him to try harder with you. And…it appears you are at least doing something.

With a rough sigh, Sunghoon decides to not say anything else, but rather signals you to sit down with a single quick head tilt. Your face grimaces at his cave-man like gesture, and although you went slowly about it, you do as he says and take a seat.

You snuggle deeper into the couch cushion, and allow your body to relax. You’re so used to being on guard whenever around Sunghoon, it feels almost natural to stiffen up. Letting yourself relinquish this tension built up in your muscles, you find it easier to keep your cool.

Dropping your arms to your side, you start to focus harder on the movie and less on the boy sitting next to you. Does it slightly freak you out that his fingertips are only centimeters away from your shoulder? Yes. But for the most part, you can sense this is….tolerable. As if for once, you don’t feel like biting Park Sunghoon’s head off.

Minutes turn into over an hour this movie has been on, and both you and Sunghoon have managed to not get into a single argument. You aren’t sure when the last instance of this was. Elementary, maybe? Regardless, you’re at ease.

Your arm is propping your head up as you watch the characters on screen. The movie, though you never asked for its name, was some romantic comedy. You picked up on this fact a few minutes into watching it. And, wow, were they intense on the romance.

You couldn’t even count the amount of make-outs that has happened since you’ve been watching. You almost want to say 8 so far- oh, make it 9 now.

The lead characters are on their 9th kissing scene, stumbling around and fondling one another in the bathroom at some house party. You watch closely, part of your brain now heightened. The male actor is kissing the female until her ass touches the sink, and then he’s hoisting her up so she can sit on the counter.

Your face contorts unpleasantly. The scene further plays out to where the girl is begging the man for sex, desperate to have him inside of her, and you feel your mouth go dry.

This is beginning to hit a little too close to home for your likings, with a dusted memory you swore to bury attempting to resurface. You push the thoughts aways. Not now.

Trying to ignore the random squeeze your legs do, you tell yourself to ignore the familiarities and simply focus on the movie. However, at the moment the man grips the the women’s throat and she moans intensely, you nearly freeze. Yeah, you can’t watch this anymore.

With an airy voice, you keep your eyes fixed on the T.V to seem passive, “Change it to something else.”

“What?” Sunghoon doesn’t glance over to you, also keeping his gaze forward, “Why?”

You scoff lightly. Why can’t he just listen to you? What’s with the interrogation? “You always ask so many questions. Just change it.”

To that he responds with nothing. You’re not giving him a proper response, so why should he listen to you? He remains engrossed in the movie.

When a few notable beats pass, you crane your neck over to his direction with a scrunched faced, “Yah. Did you hear me? I said put on something else.”

He briskly whips his head to meet your eyes, his dark eyes boring harshly, “I don’t care what you have to say. I’m not changing it.”

Fed up with him, you reach over to grab the remote when he obtains it first. You glare menacingly at Sunghoon, while he mocks your expression, then holds the remote high above, taunting you. His slender fingers harboring it only fuels your anger, which grows hotter by the second.

“Don’t piss me off.” You warn with undertones of a threat, as you climb over him to reach for the device. He extends it further away from your grasp.

“Or what?”

Bobbing the remote over your head, he just knew you were going to lose your cool at some point. That’s what all whiny brats do when they never get their way; they throw tantrums.

“Just fucking put on something else!” You scream, fighting him for the remote.

You don’t care if you can feel your shorts start to ride up into your butt, or if your boobs are being shoved up against Sunghoon’s body. You don’t care that you’re basically on top of him, trying to win this remote, because all rationality has exited your head.

You ask him to do one simple thing, and he fucking couldn’t. Then, he wants to tease you and make fun of you? You tried, you think back to your mother’s message, and in your mind the exchange begins to burn. You really fucking tried, but this…arrogant bastard just always makes it so damn hard.

He shakes the little strands of hair away from his face as he narrows his eyes brutally towards your squirmy body, “What the fuck is your deal? You’re telling me your whore ass can’t handle one god damn sex scene?”

This time you don’t say anything back to him, instead your intention remains on getting the fucking remote. He takes your lack of response as an opportunity to dig further at you.

“Really? You’re going to act like that?” He spews out more comments while continuously keeping the control from getting in your reach, “I find it hard to believe you’re freaking out-”

“Damn brat. You’ve been needing this fucking for a long time, haven’t you?”

At the line of dialogue, Sunghoon shifts his attention towards the scene being played out, one of which the girl is now bent over the sink with the man pounding roughly into her backside. And with the combination of the man’s words and the stimulating scene, his eyes widen as he finally realizes what the core problem is.

A wave of deja vu hits him. A few months ago, he had you in a damn near similar position to that on the TV, even saying similar phrasing. The two of you had been drunk off of your minds, resulting in the memory being blocked from his head.

“What the fuck?” He mumbles, letting his guard down, giving you the chance to swoop upwards and snatch the remote away. All scattered-brain, you press the power button and watch as the TV powered down.

“See.” You grit through your teeth, throwing the remote down in the meantime, “I told you. I told your dumbass to fucking change it. But, no. You didn’t want to listen to me.”

His own chest starts to burn with aggression at your words, and he looks over to you angrily, “Will you just shut the fuck up? My god, you’re so annoying.”

“What? Mad because I was right?” You fake a pouty voice, your eyes going all doey while regarding him before swiftly fixing your face, “I never want to think about that night, and here you go, basically parading it in my face. And based off of your reaction, I can tell you hate thinking about it too.”

Sunghoon sits up from off of the couch, and brings his forearms to rest against his knees. That night was full of mistakes. Jake inviting him to that dumb ass party, Heeseung feeding him back to back shots of some sort of alcohol. The kind of of alcohol that forces you to act on thoughts that otherwise would've been suppressed.

The memories all rush back to him. The moment he saw you at the party, laughing and dancing around in that tiny fucking dress. It was like right then and there, his views on you changed. Instead of dismissing your presence, he found himself drawn to it. Instead of ignoring the silhouette of your body, he allowed himself to watch every single part of you.

When throwing all caution to the wind and deciding to walk up to you, he remembers you being equally as wasted as himself. That hadn’t stopped you from throwing an immediate snarl at his approach, however. Although the interaction started with you two bickering, as always- the evening had ended so much differently.

He remembers it all. Moving from the main room to the bathroom, still jabbing insults at each other. How from one second to the next, your dress was now hiked up above your hips. The touching, the teasing, how hard the two of you came. The whole scene plays out in his head, and for some reason, Sunghoon can’t stop it.

You snide in another comment which breaks his thoughts, “Yeah, I guess I’d be mad too if I were you. You basically threw yourself at me and begged to fuck me. It’s pathetic how desperate you were.”

Now, you’re really heated. You rise to your feet in seconds and march over to stand above him, feeling reminiscent of your previous imagination. At the noticeable imbalance, the same satisfaction from earlier mixes with your current anger.

It spreads across your chest as you lour down at him, watching him bring a hand over his mouth, “For a change, you don’t have anything to say, is that why you’re silent? Did I finally get you to shut up?”

At the quietness that lingers in the air, you press further to elicit a greater reaction. Bursting out more and more taunts, you knew this is where you found enjoyment, watching him spiral and be confused by his own thoughts. You’re proud to make him feel just as perplexed as you were the whole night.

You’re ready to throw another insult his way when his tall body shoots up into the air, looming over you. His eyes are rage-filled, you can see that, and reactively you backpeddle just as he rushes closer to you.

“Y/N, I swear to fucking god. You’re going to make me lose my mind.”

For a brief second, your hard exterior falters. His warning is low- almost growl like. It intimidated you initially, but then swiftly you regain composure and stand your ground, “You make me lose my mind all the time. So what? You’re not special.”

You audibly hear his breathing, and it begins to sync up with your own heavy pants. Both of you are pissed, that much is clear. It’s just about who is going to crumble first. And surely, it won’t be you.

He’s got a crazy look to his eyes, “I’m telling you right now. Shut. Up.”

You knew better than to challenge him. You knew you should walk away and storm upstairs. Exit the situation before matters get even worse. Quite literally anything else should be done, than the actions you decide to take.

You close the distance between you both, smiling the whole time as he brings his head in to regard you. At the recognition of that sick, sick smile you’re showcasing, he too knew it would be over.

Your voice starts off quiet, whispering out a, “What will happen if I don’t?” before absolutely losing it in his face, “Just face it, Sunghoon. You're not the perfect person you portray yourself to be after all. I mean, fucking the person you hate most at a party? Even that's a new low for you."

You hover below his face, stretching your body tall until your noses are almost touching, "I'm tired of you pretending to be higher than everyone else. Always treating people like they’re twenty feet below you. You’re vile and I think it's time you realized.....maybe you're the fucking problem. Hmm? Did you not think of-?"

Sunghoon doesn't know what came over him. One second, you're throwing words after words at him, and next thing he knows, he's pushing you up against the wall, knocking the wind out of you.

His veiny hands are curled around your neck, and your mouth hangs from shock at the sudden movement while he holds you firmly in your place. The pressure he's applied is not enough to significantly hurt you, he made sure it didn't, but was definitely enough to finally get you to stop talking.

You gasp lightly and your head feels faint.

"Do you…remember how that night started?" His tone is dark with his focus solely on you. You try bringing your hands up to pry him off of you, but he doesn't budge, instead going to answer his own question, "Because if memory serves me right, you were the one who was desperate. Desperate for this.”

This referring to the minor squeeze his hand does around your throat. He continues, "You were the one who kept testing me. Wanted to see what would happen if you made me angry enough." The gap between you two closes when he draws himself inwards, making sure you heard this next part clearly, "Someone needed to shut that bratty ass mouth of yours up then," He drops his gaze to briskly look at your lips then jeers, "And right now."

While you're left to wear a poor, helpless expression, Sunghoon couldn't help but eye you curiously. It should be laughable the new state you're in. So completely different from your previous attitudes.

Using his hand to guide you, he roughly brings your head forward, so his mouth can brush the outer shell of your ear, "You really pissed me off, Y/N."

You get shoved back against the wall with a wince. "And... maybe that was your end goal with all of these arguments. You wanted to get me to this point." At the recognition of his own words, the wheels begin to turn in his brain. His eyebrows dart upward and a devilish smile tugs at his lips, "And to that, you're going to regret saying even one word tonight. I'll make sure of it."

Before you can react, Sunghoon crawls his hand up until it rests below your chin. As his thumb releases from your skin, and slowly works his way up to your lips, you think he'll be gentle in the way he's getting ready to touch you.

Oh, how wrong you were.

The moment his thumb comes in contact with your mouth, it's being shoved into your wet hole. You gag on the digit as he begins ordering you to suck, "Just needa fuck the bratiness out of you, then. Remind you of how much of a fucking slut you were for me that night."

He instructs you to go harder, and faster, and leisurely, you do so. Tingles start to form all around him, "Yeah. I'll do that. I'll just have to fuck you dumb myself, starting with your loud mouth."

You squeeze your eyes shut at the motion, coughing hard against his skin as his fingers move to tangle within your hair. Sunghoon always knew how catty you can be, this fact evident from what happened that night at the party.

However, what's also true, is that you do it for your own guilty pleasure. You purposely bring this upon yourself.

He yanks his thumb away and in return, you're inhaling harshly for air, "-what the fuck?"

Sunghoon dismisses your worries. Without warning, he has you falling to the ground with one swift push, his own desires now starting to throb inside his sweats, "Go on. Pull down my pants, brat."

He murmurs those words with a tilted face. In contrast, you look up at him as fear and lust begin to cloud your vision. Even with the menacing face he sports, you know you're not one to fully give-in. Especially when it comes to Park Sunghoon.

You aren't sure what it is about the defiance, but it makes you crazy, "Like hell-"

The grip in your hair tightens and your mouth drops from the pain. He regards your expression, "Really? Do you think you're in a position to object me right now?"

Lips parted, you shudder out a sigh while staring at Sunghoon's deep gaze. The stance he has you in makes your stomach erupt into butterflies.

"Pull my pants down." He repeats once again and after a pause, you eventually do so. With a tremble, you begin to bring both hands up and fondle the waistband, struggling to remove the barricade.

A tiny smile breaks out onto the boy's face. It's amusing how you pretend as if this wasn't the end prize. He watches you react disgustingly to his finally freed cock that springs forward, and it takes all of his power to not ram it into your ungrateful little mouth.

"What are you looking like that for? Aren't you a whore for my cock, Y/N?" He derides and thrusts himself towards your face. You try to create distance, but the hand in your hair keeps you in place, "Let’s go. Stop acting like that and take out your fucking tongue."

You hate yourself for listening to him.

With a small shiver, you unhurriedly extend your tongue from your mouth, and immediately he slaps his dick onto your muscle. He's had a great amount of pre-cum built up for some time now, starting from the minute you came down in that skimpy ass outfit. So, as soon as his dick hits your tongue, your taste buds are drowning in the liquid.

He's gasping lightly from the immediate sensation. He rubs his head all over your surface, then gradually does he start to slip himself in and out of your mouth. Your eyes go nearly white from trying to take his full length, but that’s something that only makes Sunghoon hornier.

You’re gargling around his skin as he proceeds to go faster, his base smacking against your chin every so often. Spit and his thick liquid mix to form a froth that starts to spill from the corners of your mouth, and Sunghoon groans lowly at how filthy you look.

“Oh…fuck.” It feels too good, the rocking of his hips speeding up. He’s enjoying the aggressive way he bucks himself harder and harder inside of your throat. And even as you’re thrashing beneath him, straining to get air, he finds that he didn’t want to stop. It just turns him so damn much to see you take his fat cock.

He throws his head back, “Keep it open for me. Fuck- just keep that nasty mouth open.”

You’re sick. Sick towards him for using you in such a degrading way, for letting him nearly cut off the circulation to your head. Right now, you’re nothing more than a fuck toy for him, and he doesn’t even seem to care. Not when he has you as the perfect fucking stimulant.

Yet, you’re also sick at yourself. It’s embarrassing that you notice your pussy clenching around nothing the longer he keeps this up. The fact that you’ve become so dilated in your core that gravity has slick juices leaking from your entrance. All because of this asshole that’s abusing your mouth, you're becoming aroused like never before. It’s humiliating, really.

His movements begin to stutter with a vibration to his eyelids. Oh, fuck. He can feel his cum wanting to shoot out. Sunghoon continues to push your head into him as he internally debates at what the outcome should be. There’s still so much he’s wanting to do to you, to prove.

When you can’t take the torture anymore, you’re soon hitting his leg to get him the hell away from you. Your reaction makes him realize how intrusive he’s starting to be, but he's so swirled with the immaculate pleasure that he almost didn’t let go. Before he knows it, he’ll be cumming down your throat at any moment.

Ripping himself from your suction, Sunghoon relinquishes you two from the torture. Ragged breathing emits from you as hungrily you take in the surrounding air. He, on the other, holds quieter breaths. A part of him is surprised that he was even willing to let himself finish so quickly. You were going to make him finish quickly.

With a few additional huffs, and after a moment of silence falls into the atmosphere, he’s ready to address you. Because he’s not done with you just yet.

“Yah,” There’s a gasp to his tone while you glare up begrudgingly, “You finally changed that attitude of yours?”

With your chest heaving up and down, you continue to stare angrily. Sunghoon cocks his head to the side while he awaits for your reply, though judging by the look you sport, he doesn’t think it’ll be the answer he wants.

“Eat a fucking dick.” With a hoarse throat, you spit the phrase at him.

And. Snap.

Before you know it, Sunghoon is grabbing you by the hair and yanking you over to the couch with a stumble. He tosses your body face first into the cushion and you land with a soft groan.

“Just can’t stop, can you?” He sees your ass recoiling from the previous motion and he swears it makes him go feral, "I'll just have to keep reminding you then."

In a flash, when you tried to push yourself up, he strikes a hand down to your cheeks. Your flesh jiggles with the audible slap and you're falling back down with a much louder moan.

“Did you like that?” Feigning stupidity, Sunghoon uses one arm to grab at your tiny shirt from the back, flipping you around till you laid chest-up sprawled out on the couch, "Do you want another?"

Eyes glossy with anger, you can’t help but whimper as he lands a harsh smack to your clothed cunt. He repeats the motion in a harder manner once again, and this time you’re fighting back. You wriggle to close yourself off from him, but he’s fighting to keep your legs open. He's clasping your clit.

Your arms move in for attack, though he’s able to immobilize your hands by taking them with one grasp and holding them above your head. You’re stuck now.

You squirm around, “I hate you.”

"Really?" unfazed by your words, Sunghoon simply gives your wet core a hearty squeeze, “Well, I’m feeling that might not be true.”

Staring smugly, he keeps his eyes locked on your frantic gaze as he sweeps your shorts to the side. Wetness coats the tips of fingers in an instant and he hasn’t even fully touched you. Fucking hell.

“Right. You hate so much.” Sarcasm oozes from his lips with every stroke his fingers give your pussy, and you’re left to do nothing but wiggle. He towers over your contorted body, loving how quickly he was able to put you down.

His fingers circle your lips teasingly before moving into your dripping entrance. He doesn’t waste another second in shoving his digits in and out of your hole, eyeing the way you struggle to keep a straight face.

“S-So fucking annoying.” You stutter out, trying your absolute hardest to not slip and give him any further satisfaction of knowing he got to you.

Sunghoon takes this as a challenge. Leaning in closer, he changes the angle his fingers hit inside your squelching walls. His fingers gradually increase in pace until you're seeing stars. He continues to ram his digits inside of your pussy as they grow wetter and wetter. He keeps this up. And soon, your face morphs from that of resilience to a more natural state, your eyes lowering.

Oh, god. Your body’s succumbing to him. It’s taking the pleasure produced by him and using it against you, dammnit it. What becomes worse is how your body begins to rock alongside his fingers, chasing the high that’s ever growing in your system.

You howl, “Fuck!”

His fingers feel like they’re hitting your g-spot and now you’re a mess. Thrashing and twisting below him while he finger fucks your way to an orgasm. Your toes curl in the feelings that’s wafting over you. You’re losing control.

“God, I hate you. I hate you so fucking much.” You grit out through clenched teeth, eyes now tightly shut as you concentrate on his wicked pounding, “Can’t stand you. I-”

“Yeah? Yeah?” His questions are disingenuous. He wants you to keep going. Keep digging yourself a grave.

“Piss me of so- ah! Fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop.” The words topple from your lips without a thought. Your hips rut harshly into his fingers, so greedily, so close to basically squirting. By any second you’re going to….you’re going to-

Your body goes cold the minute Sunghoon snatches his fingers from you, abstaining you from the arousal you'd been subjected to. Screeching, you bellow out a desperate cry from how empty you feel.

He bores a look of apathy, indifferent to your flailing, "What? Did you think I would actually let you cum? After your shitty attitude all night?"

Reaching down, he adjusts your rigid body into a more elongated position, then he's straddling you, "I just needed to get you ready. Cause now I want to destroy you."

You want to slap him, your face growing hotter by the second. This night, you've spent it feeling nothing but rage and lividness because of the boy on top of you.

But then he's working to uncover your breasts, playing and squishing them with both palms, and momentarily your facade begins to fade.

He's hunched over in the way he's needlessly gunning for your neck, biting and marking every spot he could. You squeal from the pain, and that only pushes him further.

He circles around the same throat he held previously to leave splotches of red staining your skin. It's in this moment of daze, his rapture begins to enthrall him, causing his cock to throb and throb until it's hurting.

Sunghoon works his way up, passing by your chin until he's aggressively making out with you. All of the pent up tension and conflicts feels as if they're being spilled out within the rough kiss, and you wrap an arm around him and mewl needily into his breath.

You still hate him, even if his annoyingly perfect lips mold deliciously into yours. You still hate him, even as he expertly touches and grabs at your tits, providing more stimulation to your already horny self.

But even you can't deny the desperate longing your body seeks as his thick, hard skin prods at the entrance of your shorts right now. And he can't wait anymore.

"Mmm, ready for me?" He mumbles against your mouth, though he didn't necessarily care for a response. Because even if you were to protest, he knew it would just be another ploy at deflection.

He's back to kissing you. The aggression that's brought along with it could be mistaken for passion and it makes you weak. Right before he darts the fabric off to the side and ready to take you whole, you pull back slightly, wanting to say one more thing.

"I h-hate you so much," you whine and he could only laugh. You truly never know when to shut up.

"You've told me that a couple of times." Muttering back, he recaptures your mouth and without wasting another second his cock finally plunges into your deep pussy.

Your walls immediately grip him, and the two of you groan simultaneously into each other. He did a good job at prepping you; you're beautifully slick and warm, just the way he likes it.

His cock starts to thrust rhythmically, relieving the ache you both were so full of. You can't help the string of grunts that fall from your lips, all chopped from each hit he gives your pussy.

"S-Shit." Sunghoon detaches his mouth from yours to completely bask in the arousal that's coursing throughout him. It brings him back to that night.

The night where you bent your sexy ass over for him, and watched yourself in the mirror as he smashed into your backside. He was on Cloud 9 then, but now coherent and in the right head space, it's like the pleasure has doubled.

You, meanwhile, are having an internal battle with yourself. Holy shit. It feels so fucking good when he's pounding inside of you. You swear you're gonna cum at any point. But, there's still this sense of revulsion that bubbles in the pit of your stomach- because of the fact that you're allowing Park Sunghoon to fuck you so roughly.

"H-Hope you know- mmrgh! This is a-all your fault." You stammer out, eyes shutting forcefully on themselves, "You always c-cause problems. You're in the- you're in the-"

A hand comes down over your lips and shuts you up, your face relaxing into a state of bliss. You aren't sure why you always jumble out nonsense when in moments of euphoria. It's just as if....he's...

"I said I would fuck you dumb," Sunghoon sighs as his back lurches over to grind into your cunt at a different angle, "Guess I actually did."

Your response is muffled and buzzes into his skin. There are no intentions of uncovering himself, either. No way will he let this indescribable sensation be override by your loud ass, bratty ass mouth.

His hips continue to drive harshly into your liquified cunt, squelching and dripping the more he fucks himself into you. He only gets faster while you begin to grow limp. Your own pleasure starts to consume you until you don't have the willpower to move.

Sunghoon feels his cock start to twitch, "About to cum," he moans near your ear, "Can feel myself about to cum inside your dirty pussy. Are you close too?"

You shriek into his hand a multitude of yes's as you feel yourself so close to snapping. It's only a matter of time before you're losing control all at the hands of your actual worst nightmare.

He weighs his options, "Mmm....but should I? Do you deserve to orgasm with me?"

You'd despise not only him but yourself if you didn't. You're too far gone. The pleasure is catching up to you closer and closer, the more he buries himself damn near into your cervix. Waves after waves of ecstasy release into your core and you almost want to cry from how amazing it feels. So there's no fucking way you're going to miss this.

You never thought you would do this, but it's only a matter of time.

What sounds like your yes's transforming into pleads, Sunghoon scrunched his eyebrows, going to remove your hand. Are you....?

The moment your mouth is free you yell out a whimper, "Please. Please. 'm so close, Sunghoon. Sunghoon, please. I can't, I can't. I need this so bad."

Oh, fuck.

He'd never thought he'd see the day. He's never heard you beg before. The way his name sounds so good when you're pleading, how it squeals out from your lips. It makes his cock twitch once again and he's clenching his ass cheeks to stop him from popping a load right into you.

"You really want to?" He speaks quietly and more to himself, before deciding to give you what you want. Even brats can be rewarded.

He's pushing himself up and is now hovering over your face, his pelvis driving brutally into your core, "Okay. Okay, just let go. Cum for me."

You're so grateful you could kiss him. You let the slaps his skin produce fill you ears as you give yourself some slack for even letting this happen. You were about to cum because of Park Sunghoon, and there was nothing you wanted to do to stop it.

Sunghoon can't help but stare at your wavering face. Going from tight tension to relaxing and belting out a moan, your expressions keeps his eyes trained on you.

"Here, here. Faster, need you to cum right now." And almost like a present for you, Sunghoon brings a hand down to start massaging your clit, getting you to the very last point you needed to before exploding.

When his fingers circle rapidly against your nerves, combined with his pounding that has you babbling out nothing, your orgasm hits you so hard, starting from your pussy and running up into your head, making you dizzy. The moment causes you to starting quavering sporadically and mewing out, 'I'm cumming!'

That was what Sunghoon needed. Your orgasm causes your insides to start squeezing, pulsating around his cock so perfectly. At the third time he feels his cock beginning to twitch, he grants himself permission to let go. Next thing he knows, he's shooting out viscous ropes of cum into your velvety cunt, groaning about how perfect of a brat you are for him.

'Finally fucking listened'

'My perfect brat'

'God, you're amazing'

All is being said as you two finish out your orgasms. As he stutters above you, and you're quaking below him, you both seem to have finally found peace within being close to one another.

Which brings to an end this dirty, filthy night.

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- Bonus -

Your mother and Mrs. Park hadn't intended on being back at the house past midnight. But, how were they supposed to know the company gathering would be such a blast!

The event had the women interacting, mingling, dancing, singing with every single one of their coworkers until around 11:30 PM! And that was only because the event was over around then, they surely still had some more juice in their system.

By the time the two arrived back at your house, they'd been laughing hysterically to one another, unbeknownst to the absolute chaos that had ensued just hours earlier.

Your mother unlocks the door with her keys, and as they swing it open, they're met with a surprising scene in front of them.

Sunghoon, all wide awake, and sitting on the couch by his lonesome. The T.V is there to keep him entertained, but other than that, there were no signs that you were around. As Mrs. Park goes to greet her son, your mother stares at the boy with worried eyes.

"Oh, Sunghoon. Were you down here by yourself this whole time? Did Y/N not come down?" She walks up to him, though is quickly mollified when he's giving her a small smile.

"No, she did. We watched a film together, though half-way through it, she started to doze off. I had to carry her upstairs; she was so out of it." He nods softly at the end of his sentence and your mother reciprocates his delicate response.

It warms her heart to hear that you tried.

"Oh, Hoonie! I told you things would work itself out if you would just be nicer to the poor girl. You know how timid she can be." His mother pats at his shoulder, "Come on. Grab your shoes and I'll take us home."

"I'm happy you guys were able to have a nice night together." Your mother beams while walking alongside Sunghoon towards the front door, "Are you two okay now? Should I be expecting you back here more often?"

Sunghoon regards your mother, his own brain thinking at how to properly respond to that. It's not until he's slipped his shoes and coat on, and holding the door open for Mrs.Park to exit, before giving a proper answer.

"Yes, Miss, I believe we're just fine now.”

At the last second of his departure, his eyes catch sight of movement on the staircase. Having awoken from your slumber, you heard voices from downstairs and decided to investigate. Creeping around the top stairs, all you were met with was Sunghoon talking to your mother with one foot out the door.

You attempt to remain hidden behind the wall, waiting for him to leave. But, soon, you find his gaze moving slowly until it lands onto your face. He holds eye contact with you one last time, your stomach in knots from how compelling his essence is.

“I'll try to come back here more often," He steps his other foot outside as a faint grin overtakes his cheeks.

"I’ll make sure of it.”

[cryptictongues]

The Thrill of the Chase

pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 7.1K summary: Logan ate part of your sandwich, so you stole his cigars. Things turn out differently from what you were expecting.

warnings: fluff and smut, teasing, slight predator/prey trope, banter, making out, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting, soft!dom Logan

Author's Note: My first Logan fic! X-Men used to be my world and the fact it is making a comeback has rejuvenated me. Also, I was picturing Logan from the first three trilogies but DOFP!Logan also crossed my mind so :)

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It was getting close to evening, everyone doing their own thing to unwind after a long day of classes and teaching. You had planned to do the same thing, planning to grab a quick bite in the kitchen before getting ready to relax in your room. You were whipping up a quick and easy sandwich, assembling it onto a plate before moving it to the island in the middle of the kitchen. You went to get a soda from the cupboard, only for your skin to raise as you sense something is about to happen: a certain someone was about to come take your sandwich. 

“If you take one bite out of my sandwich Logan, I will kick your ass.”

You turn to see him, eyes wide along with his mouth, about to chomp into your dinner. He closes his mouth, only for him to keep the sandwich in his hands and an “innocent” smile on his face. 

“Oh, you mean this sandwich?” 

You shut the cupboard door, walking over to him with a stern, playful look. You know he is messing with you. That has been the dynamic of your relationship with him. Ever since he decided to stay here at the school and join the X-Men, you two have grown closer and closer, enjoying each other’s company over anyone else. It didn’t matter what either of you did. You both thrived in the presence of one another. 

But something that has become common practice as of late was playful in nature. You both have always teased, but it has recently ramped up. If one of you started it, the other would find a way to end it before starting again. It was the push and pull between the two of you that you loved, and it has only made you long for him. You want to believe he feels the same, but even your mutation of precognition can’t fully confirm that. 

“Yes, that is my sandwich. I worked very hard on it. I'll have you know.” You are standing in front of him now, having to look up at him slightly as you wait for his next move. 

“I’m sure you did. It looks delicious.” He says, but rather than looking at the food, he is looking right at you. Cheeky bastard.

“Y-yeah, which is why I am asking you to put it down so I may enjoy it.” 

“I don’t know. I think I wanna have a taste first.” 

His hazel eyes are staring you down, almost begging for you to make a move. In reality, you really didn’t care if he ate it. You could easily make another and enjoy dinner with him. But you know that isn’t what he is doing right now. He is playing with you, wanting to rile you up. Well, it takes two to play that game.

“That sandwich is very precious to me. I’d think before you act.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, bringing his face closer to yours. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll take something precious of yours.” 

He chuckles, turning his face to the sandwich. “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart.”

He takes a huge bite out of your sandwich, his eyes closing as he chews. You purse your lips, watching him savor your meal with gusto. You know he is overexaggerating to truly get at you, but little does he know you have a trick up your sleeve.

“Enjoying my meal?” 

He turns back to you, swallowing before licking his lips. “Very much. I may have to take another bite.”

You get up in his space, settling onto your tippy toes so your face is by his ear. You let your breath waft against his skin, causing a shiver to shake his core. You can tell he is anticipating what you will do, always highly enjoying your responses to his antics. Oh, he is so in for it.

“That’s okay. You can have it.” You let your pointer finger trace his collarbone that is very much on display from his white, fitted tank. “And you want to know why that is, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath, very apparent that your actions are doing something to him. His left hand lets go of the sandwich to settle on your hip, squeezing the flesh slightly to ground himself. It is actions like that that make you believe you do something to him. Like you drive him just as insane as he does to you. You bring your left hand to his head, pulling him down so you can really get into his ear. 

“That’s because I know where you keep your special cigars from Cuba, and I am going to take them.”

You couldn’t have run fast enough. You are already shooting for the stairs, taking two steps at a time as you speed to his room. You knew it had taken him a second to realize what had happened because by the time you got to his floor, you heard him yelling your name. 

You burst into his room, locking it quickly. It was only to buy some time, for you knew he had a key. You were giggling as you went to his bookcase, plucking out the blue, hardcover history book. You open it, and smile as you see the unopened cigars there in the deep hole where text used to be. Just as you close the book, you hear heavy footsteps reach the door and a jingle of keys.

You panic, needing to find a way out before he opens the door. You could run around him, but you needed a head start. You could hide and wait for him to leave but you knew he’d sniff you out. There was only one option left, and that was to go out his bedroom window. You hear the key enter the lock, and with a quickness you didn’t think you had, you unlocked his window and flung it open. Just as the door busted open, you crawled out. You grasped onto the ivy that clung to the school’s exterior and began to climb down. 

“Oh, when I get my hands on you, you are in for it!”

You look up to see Logan’s head popping out the window. He has a scowl on his face, but you could see the wild look in his eyes. You knew he was enjoying this, for he loves the chase.

“This is for taking my sandwich!” You yell, and continue making your descent. 

You hear the window close, which makes you go faster, knowing he is rushing down those stairs to meet you at the bottom. You could sense that he would go to the front door, so once your feet touch the grassy floor you run to the back door. Opening it quickly, you determine your next move. He is probably at the front, ready to intercept you, giving you the opportunity to hide somewhere. 

You rush to the hallway where many of the classes are held. You run into the first classroom you see, its door already open. You see the large oak desk at the back of the classroom, and quietly walk up to it. It has a space for leg room, so with haste you crawl in it, pulling the chair in carefully to not make any sound. 

Your heart was racing, adrenaline thrashing as you hid. You try to steady your breath, trying to keep quiet. The atmosphere has become eerie, the silence defying as you try to keep it that way. You try to listen for any other sounds over your pounding heart, when another wave of cognition hits you. You can see it clearly, where he finds you under the desk, hands on either side to block you in. You know you need to move on, so you go to move the chair, but you suddenly halt when you hear his voice boom nearby.

“Where is she?” 

You cover your mouth, trying to hold in your breathing as well as the gasp that almost shot from your mouth. His voice was coated in gravel, and absolutely primal. Even from afar, it was clear he was worked up, and it made you embarrassingly wet. 

You hear footsteps enter the hallway, heavy boots against the shiny wooden floor. At first, you think you may have a way out, hearing him pass the room you were in, but you aren’t so lucky because you hear him stop. You grip onto the book and your mouth, even though you know it will do absolutely nothing. You know he senses you, and it is confirmed when you hear footsteps enter the room. You hear him inhale deeply, exhaling with sigh only to turn into a deep rumble. 

“I know you are here.” He is slow in taking his steps, and each step gets closer and closer to your hiding place. 

He sniffs deeply again, growling this time around like he was a wild animal. “No point in denying it. I could smell you the second I walked into the hall.”

You know he will find you, and he will block you in. So you decide to take a risk before he closes in on you. You push the chair out far enough to crawl out, before standing up behind the desk. You put your hands up with the book in your left one, trying to show off a sign of surrender. 

“You have nowhere to go, dollface. No point in trying’ to run for I’ll snatch you up real quick.” 

“You must really want your cigars back to block me in like this.” 

He steps even closer, with him now standing right in reach of the book. He could easily grab it and take it, for he is much stronger than you. But he doesn’t make a move, staying glued to his new spot. You don’t know what’s running through his head, his eyes trained on you. It isn’t until he places his hands onto the desk that you take a step back and drop your hands. 

“You’re wrong.”

You raise a brow, not sure what he is getting at. “What do you mean?”

He smirks, leaning his body over the desk. “It isn’t the cigars I’m after. Not anymore.”

Your heart is in overdrive. You know the answer, it is becoming obvious. But you ask anyway. “Then what are you after, Lo?”

“I think you know the answer. Now it is a matter of will you let me take what’s mine.”

You want to give in. You are becoming more aroused by the second, but you are starting to really enjoy the chase. Seeing how much it gets him going, to see this side of him, only makes you want to push him more. You want to see what he will do, especially when he gets his hands on you.

You walk around the desk, book of cigars still in hand, getting closer to him until you are toe to toe with him. “What’s the fun in surrendering?”

He quickly blocks you in, the desk pressed against your back. He has the most seductive, but feral grin upon his lips, like he thinks he has won his prize. His head leans down to yours, forehead against forehead, before he whispers his next sentence against your lips.

“The fun is in what follows.”

His lips are on yours, desperate and needy. You can’t help the moan that leaves your throat, mind going hazy as his lips devour. You have craved him for so long, you want this to last forever. However, you cannot give into him like this. You will not make this easy for him.

One of your hands goes to the hem of his tank, fingers lingering before going under. He feels so solid, the coarse hairs on his tummy spread thick as you go to his left side. You can feel him shudder over you, and you try to hold back the smirk that wants to curve onto your lips. You move your fingers sporadically over the left side of his ribcage, causing him to jump back. This gives you the chance to run like hell.

“Hey! That’s unfair!” You hear him yell and it makes you giggle profusely. You must thank Jean later for letting you in on that little secret; that the broody, grumpy man with the metal bones was insanely ticklish. You wish you could turn to see his full reaction, but you are too determined.

You can hear him running right behind you, and you have never been more aroused. You shouldn’t feel so turned on by Logan chasing you around, but the thrill of the chase was seeping into your loins and you were addicted. 

More people had shown up around the school, meeting with friends to study or hang out for the evening. You were dodging people left and right, and everyone looked perplexed as they saw Logan charging his way towards you. Many of them probably assumed it had to do with the book you were holding, and while they would have been originally right, they are no longer even close. 

You don’t have time to hide again, not with him so close behind. You make it back to the stairs, hauling ass as you try to make it to your room. You can hear him right behind you, breathing heavily and grunting with each step. Your room is at the end of the hall, and you are basically flying with how fast you are running. The second you reach the door, you swing it open and throw yourself in before slamming it. You had gotten it shut, mentally pumping your fist in victory, but by the time you went to turn the lock, it was too late. The door flies open, sending you back a couple feet back as Logan stands at the door's entrance. 

“I have you right where I want you. No more running.”

If looks could kill, you’d be ash. He enters your room, closing the door behind him with his eyes staying on you. He takes one step forward, with him now hovering over your smaller form. The way he is looking at you makes your knees faint, for you felt you could hear what he was revealing with his stare. 

“I still know your weakness, Logan.” You smirk, holding the book up to your face to dodge any attack he was planning. It is pointless, you know, but it is the best defense you’ve got. 

“Do you now?” He walks towards you, in step with you as you go backwards. The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, telling you that you truly have nowhere else to go. He is right on you, grinning now that he has the upper hand. 

“I’m afraid that book won’t save you from me.” He snatches the book, tossing it to the side of the bed. 

You are in for it. You don’t know what he is planning, and the element of surprise has overcome you. However, with the way he is looking at you, you guarantee that what is about to happen will be just as exhilarating as when he was hunting you down. 

“What do you plan to do with me, hm?” You let your fingertips walk along his chest, dancing all the way down to his side like you did earlier. 

He is quick to grab your hand, bending down to lift you up in his arm before tossing you onto the bed, following swiftly as he pins both hands above your head. 

“Don’t even think about it. I know you all too well.” He growls through his teeth. “As for what I plan on doing, what’s the fun in telling when I can just show you. Would you like that?”

You simply nod, breathless at how he is handling you. However, that wasn’t good enough for him, as he takes hold of your wrists in one hand so his other one can grip your chin.

“I wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.”

You huff, getting frustrated already that he is dragging this out. With your legs still free, you wrap them around his hips, your heels digging into his back causing him to grunt. Your lips are practically on his, faint contact making you antsy. “Show me what you’ve been wanting to do with me.”

Your lips are squashed by his instantly, hunger and desperation clear. His hands go to your thighs, grabbing at the flesh. With your hands free, they go straight to his hair, gripping and tugging on it which causes him to moan hotly into your mouth. 

His hands travel up to the hem of your blouse, pushing the fabric up past your stomach before his hands go under. You moan at the contrast, rough hands, that have been through so much running along your unmarred body. He swallows what you give him, groaning happily at the effects he was causing.

You are in heaven. You never thought you would be here like this with Logan. You never thought you would be under him at his complete mercy. It makes a shiver travel down your spine, traveling right to your core that is a heated mess because of the man before you. To be with the man you have pined for is riveting, and you could cry that he seems to return those feelings.

You don’t know what triggers your mutation, but it is sudden. Your vision goes blurry, a strong aura surrounding you. It is overwhelming, a whimper bubbling from your throat as you see what is about to happen. Logan releases your lips with a grunt, looking at you intensely as you start to shake. You feel his rough hands cup your soft cheeks, stroking them gently. 

Your cheeks feel hot, your vision turning you into a horny mess. Your hands grip onto Logan’s chest trying to ground yourself to reality. It’s too much. Your visions rarely last long for they are just snippets of future events, but this was different. It was as if you were in a trance, and could feel everything he was doing to you. You don’t know if it is your heightened emotions, especially with him right on you. All you knew is that pleasure was present, and you were starting to fall apart. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You can hear his demeanor change, worry laced in his tone.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but moan, unable to control yourself. “I can feel everything, Logan.”

There is a pause, hands still touching your face. A few beats later, he lets his right hand go down, only to stop at your thigh squeezing tightly. 

“Tell me what you see, baby.” 

The rumble in his voice intensifies everything, causing you to grip onto him tighter. “Oh God please don’t make me say it out loud.”

You try to look away, but his left hand shifts so it is grabbing your chin. He forces your head back up, bringing his face down to yours like he had in the classroom. His breath fans over your lips, taking in the way they move as sounds leave them. 

“I’m fucking you, aren’t I? Making you lose yourself on my cock? Is that what you are seeing?”

You can barely talk, too enthralled in your vision. You grab the hand that is on your thigh and bring it to the top of your black pants. Logan gets the idea and angles it so he can slide his hand into them. His fingers brush over the fabric, feeling the damp spot that has formed drastically. You hear him curse under his breath, the vibrations hitting your lips as they brush against one another without full pressure. 

“Oh sweetheart, you are so wet.” He murmurs, pulling his hand out to bring it up to his nose, inhaling deeply before releasing a sound so feral that you could sob. “And you smell so fucking good.” 

You can’t help but nod, not knowing how to respond. All you know is that you need him. Need him to take you on your bed and do whatever he wants to you. You’ll take anything he is willing to give you, for all you want is for him to make himself known to you. 

His hand had gone back down to your crotch, cupping your pussy through the material. “Does she want more attention?”

“Logan, please do something.” You choke, your mind steadily coming back to reality, but still not fully letting go. You start to grind down on his palm, desperate for anything he will give you, but he removes his hand, going to the back of your head to grip tightly.

Damn him!

“I know she deserves something, but do you? Do you deserve me after getting me so worked up like that?”

“Logan, I am begging.” You cry out in frustration, your nails digging into his chest causing him to groan lowly. “I want you. God, I’ve always wanted you so please take what’s yours!”

He is back on you, kissing you till the air in your lungs dissipates. He starts to kiss away from your swollen lips, kissing down to your neck. He nips at your pulse point, going up to your ear to give it a light lick before going back down. With every kiss, he takes a deep breath in, which only makes him get more aggressive. Soft kisses turn to an open mouth lather to nips that could have easily broken the skin.

“I don’t think you know what your scent does to me. It draws me in every time.” He bites down particularly hard at your collar bone, and you wouldn’t be surprised if blood had come to the surface. 

His hands come back up to the front of your blouse, carefully unbuttoning the garment before revealing your breasts that are almost spilling out of your bra. His hands mold over the cups, squeezing hard and slow as he makes his way to your sternum. 

He is being so gentle with you, a complete 180 from how you thought this was going to go. He was so rough with you in your head, fucking you until you couldn’t even say a word. This side of him was endearing, but you crave more from him.

“For someone so feral for me, you sure are taking your time.”

He bites the top of your left breast, making you gasp at the sudden pain. “I don’t think you are ready for that side of me, dollface.”

Your right hand goes to his head, taking a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. You know he wants to absolutely ravish you, and if it’s some convincing he needs, some convincing he is going to get. 

“When I said to take what’s yours, I meant it. I want you to make me beg until I’m dumb, so fucking do it.”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Princess.”

His hands go under your top from the back, unclipping your bra before letting them resurface. He starts to yank your top off from the shoulders, only to smack your thigh that causes a light sting.

“Arch that back for me.”

You do as he says, allowing him to take the rest of your top off along with your bra. He flings them both across the room, only to do the same with his tank. You’ve seen his upper body plenty of times, as there would be instances in which he disregards it for a training session. But this? This was very different. It’s a different atmosphere, and rather than everyone getting an eye full of his muscular, hairy body, it is now for your eyes only. 

He’s looking down at you, pupils flared as he takes you in. You shiver as his palms stroke your tummy, slowly going up until they encompass your breasts. Your nipples pebble from the rough texture of his skin, and you can see it excites him. So much so that he takes the opportunity to take your nipples between his fingers and pulls them gently with a pinch. Your back bows off the mattress, adoring the pain he is providing, and let out a mewl as he lets go to run his thumbs over the tender peaks.

“You sound so good,” Logan murmurs. “I need to hear more.”

His right arm goes under your back to keep you up, holding you there as his mouth goes to your left breast. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking with his eyes still on you. Your cheeks flush, head tilting to the side to avoid looking at him. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 

Whimpers slip from your mouth, his treatment of your breasts making you want to rub your thighs together to soothe the ache, but he keeps your legs open. He eventually does the same to your other breast, working to match the work he left on your other nipple: hard, and tainted red.

He lets up, sitting on his knees as he unbuttons your pants, hands sliding the material down your legs in earnest. He tosses your heels off before stripping away your bottoms, and he hums as he admires the black, lacy thong you adorn. 

“Fuck,” he snaps the elastic, eyes entranced. “You sure you didn’t see this coming earlier? Wearing something sexy like this?”

“They work better with my pants.” You huff, his fingers lightly running along your covered slit.

“Hmm, no wonder your ass looked so good today.” He grins. “But this pussy? I could play with her all day.”

He lowers himself, sliding off the bed only to bring you with him, your body gliding across the comforter with ease. He clutches onto your thighs, letting your legs rest in the crook of his elbows. He keeps his hold tight, bringing his lips down to kiss and suck on your thighs. You gasp at the aggressiveness, swearing you will see dark purple marks on you later. You moan at the idea, as it feels like he is finally claiming you; like are his to mark, to claim, to fuck, to love. 

He makes his way to your center, sniffing deeply before releasing a feral growl. He lets the tip of his tongue lightly drag from the bottom to the top of your heat, still fully covered by the damned thong. He flicks at your clit, a ghost of a touch that has you bucking your hips. And he draws back every single time. His self-control is impressive but frustrating all the same.

He starts to suck on it through the material, creating a bigger wet spot with his spit. The more he pushed his tongue against your folds, the more the material would rub just right against you. It made you clench, panting at how much he is teasing you. He pulls away, blowing on your sensitive spot which only makes you whine.

“Awe what is it?” He chuckles, the vibrations barely hitting where you need him. “You want my tongue to play with you?”

His hand lets go of your thigh, fingers tracing the fabric before pulling it to the side. “Lucky for you, I love to play.”

He goes right in, mouth over your bud as he consumes your very being. Your hands shoot to his hair, not prepared for the onslaught of pleasure he is delivering. The swirls he is landing on his target is mind numbing, a tangible pressure that makes you want to curl in on yourself. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, the sound vibrating right on your clit. It makes you buck your hips up, but his left arm presses you down to keep you secure. 

“I know you want more, but you are going to have to be patient. I’m not done tasting this sweet pussy. Fuck, you are so sweet.”

You feel one of his fingers near your hole, circling it teasingly before pushing in. His tongue is back on your nerves, mouthing covering it to add slight suction. Even with his big fingers, it’s not nearly enough. 

“Logan, please add another.” You say, emphasizing as you clench down on his single digit. 

He sucks a little harder, ripping a yelp from your throat. Still, he listens and inserts a second finger with the first. He goes in and out, drawing sighs from your lips as he builds you up. His mouth is going crazy, moving his lips with a vengeance. Your blood is hot, traveling down as your release starts to come to the surface.

You can’t stop clamping down on his fingers, your pussy having a mind of its own. He is pistoning them now, causing your fluids to make its way down your ass onto the comforter. The sounds coming from his handiwork edge you further, your release imminent. 

“Oh God, Logan! I’m cumming!” 

Big mistake on your part.

He pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A smug look appears on his face, and you have the urge to shove his face back into your aching cunt.

“Your first time cumming with me will be on my cock, sweetheart.”

He pulls your thong down your legs and moves you back to the front of the bed. He stands before you, making light work of removing his belt from the loops of his jeans. His jeans are next, pulling them down with his briefs. 

You don’t know what you expected. You weren’t surprised with how well endowed he was, not with the way he is built. But to see it in person is so much different from your imagination. The details that your mind didn’t conjure up, especially the vein that starts from his lower stomach to the tip of his cock. It makes you salivate, wanting to run your tongue along it. 

“You like what you see, darlin’?” He noticed you staring, but you have no shame. Not anymore.

“Yeah, want it in my mouth so bad.”

He walks over to you, his cock in your face. His hand goes to your head, stroking the baby hairs that are starting to stick to your temple. “As much as I would love that, I am dying to give you the fucking you deserve, sweetheart. However…” he brings your head up closer to his cock, your lips not even an inch away. “How about you get it nice and wet for me.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You work up a good amount of spit, letting it drip from your mouth onto his hard cock. You start to lick at the sides, spreading your saliva all over until he is covered. You are basically making out with his dick, your lips and tongue moving like you had when you were kissing him earlier. It isn’t until you get to that vein of his that you start to go wild, licking it up and down. 

Logan is groaning deeply, and pulls your head back, a string of saliva connecting before breaking apart. You hear him curse under his breath before crawling back onto the bed, his hands holding your face as he brings his lips to you. His kisses are slow this time, letting it sink in that this is happening; that you two are about to be connected. 

“You did such a good job. You are such a good girl.” He murmurs against your lips before sitting up. 

His dick is now sitting heavy on your mound, and the weight of it feels delicious. He taps it against your clit a few times, your hips thrusting up in kind. 

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” He lets his cock rut into your folds, thrusting up into your clit. “I think that sweet thing of yours is.”

“Give it to me, Lo. I need you so bad it hurts.” 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take that pain away.” He promises.

And as promised, he places the tip right at your aching hole and pushes in slowly. Your jaw slacks, the pressure as he continues his descent much more intense than you anticipated. It’s been so long since you’ve given yourself to someone. It all feels new, and you are thankful; thankful that it's with him.

He is fully seated in you, and you can only describe it as euphoric. With the way he sits heavy in your cunt, filling you up completely, you can honestly say that this was meant to happen. Logan was meant to be with you in every single possible way imaginable. It’s the only explanation.

“How does it feel, baby?” Logan asks, hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly. 

“It feels,” you whimper, gripping down on him. “It feels so good, Lo.”

“Yeah? My cock makin��� you feel good, doll?” He groans, clearly being affected by your behavior. 

Before you can mutter a pathetic answer, your brain turning to mush, he shifts back. His cock slides out until the mushroom head is at your entrance, and then he slams back in; hard and slow. 

The constant back and forth of his cock has you shaking, his hard thrust knocking the air out of your lungs and the slow thrusts feeling oh so good. And with the way he is watching you, his face mimicking yours as he receives his own pleasure, is sending zaps of electricity to your cunt. It makes you grasp onto him hard as he gets you more worked up.

Logan sits up straighter, grabbing your right leg and bringing it up to his shoulder. His left hand keeps it steady as he speeds up slightly and presses gentle kisses to your ankle in the process. It lets him go deeper, kissing your cervix every time it goes in. The pressure feels incredible, and the more he speeds up, the more your cunt starts to spasm out of control. 

“That’s it, baby. You are taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me.” He growls out, biting your ankle. 

“God yes, Logan! I’m yours!” You cry out, him and his cock making you utterly delirious. “You were made for my pussy!”

“Fuck, you got a mouth on you.” He chides, his right hand going to your right breast.

He is squeezing your tit so tight; his hips are on autopilot with how fast he is taking you. Your hands don’t know where to go, going from gripping the fabric below to holding onto his wrist. He is putting you into a completely fucked out state, and you can’t get enough of that treatment. 

You can tell you are on the precipice of cumming. You are clenching on and off rapidly, no longer in control of your muscles. The sounds coming from your coupling, wet smacking echoes that are music to your ears. You can feel the telltale sensation of being overwhelmed, and you know you are now on the track of no return. 

“Logan, baby, I’m gonna cum!”

He snarls at you, a crazed look in his eyes as he slams into you. He lets go of your tit to grab your chin, keeping your eyes on his. “Do it, darlin’. Cum around my cock.”

You are over the edge in seconds, a silent scream taking over as you tremble and quake. Your pussy is convulsing like crazy, small gushes of liquid coming out. You see Logan look down at where you two are connected, and he is grinning like crazy.

“What a fucking sight. There isn’t one thing about you that isn’t pretty.”

You could sob at his words, especially with how overstimulated you are becoming. You work his cock, wanting him to cum inside of you. 

“Give me your cum, Logan. Fill me until I’m dripping.”

Your words must have triggered something because next thing you know he has let go of your leg and face and is falling onto his forearms with his mouth landing on yours. You hear the sound of his claws, completely unsheathed from his skin, causing him to bellow into your mouth, rutting like a madman which causes cum to leak out from your hole onto the bedding. 

He slows down, milking out the rest of his spend before stopping all together. He lets go of your lips gasping, face buried in your shoulder as he tries to calm down. Your hands go to his back, massaging the taut muscles as he shakes. 

“Fuck, Logan,” you sigh, catching your breath as you come back to earth. You feel so relaxed, even with your guts feeling completely rearranged.

You hear his claws sink back into his skin, and it is then that he pulls out, falling to the other side of the bed. His chest is going up and down with every heavy breath, and you can’t help but admire him like this. 

He turns his head over to you, his hand coming to grab the hand by your side. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You make it over into his side, head laying on his chest as you both bask in the post-sex glow. You can’t help but smile at this turn of events, not expecting to have been in this position with Logan. But here you are, laying on his chest with his arms around you. 

You notice something in your peripherals and see splintering from the headboard of your bed. There are six holes in the wood, and it sends you into a laughing fit, a euphoric glaze covering your entire body. 

“What’s so funny?” He asks gruffly, pulling you into side as you continue to laugh.

“Your claws pierced my headboard.”

You see him glance back, and you see him sigh, relaxing more into the mattress. “I’ll fix it up for you, darlin’. I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to say sorry.” You snuggle your face into his skin, breathing in his natural musk as you relax more into him. “I just can’t believe we did that, but I’m glad it did.”

“I can say the same.” He murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “Seriously, I gotta know, did you see this coming?”

You shift up, going to lay your arms across his chest only for you to rest on them. You look into his eyes and the need in them is still there, but not in the way they were before. They were searching, looking for any confirmation that what you both just did truly meant more. It makes him look vulnerable, something he rarely shows. It makes you smile at the prospect of him opening up even more. 

“Not until today. It’s strange now that I think about it.”

“And why is that?”

“I never saw you coming, I guess. Even when it is clear as day how you felt about me, I never got anything that told me it was real. I didn’t want to potentially screw anything up between us.”

He hums, a look of contemplation on his face before taking a hand and rubbing his face, a long sigh coming out in the process. “I suppose that’s my fault.”

You can’t help but look confused. His fault? “Why do you say that?”

“I haven’t been fully honest, but ever since I came here, no matter how welcomed and appreciated I am here, I have contemplated leaving.” His hand leaves his face to go behind your neck, lightly scratching the skin at the nape before continuing. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Having a family has never been in the books for me. It is easier to not let people in.”

“So, that’s why I couldn’t see you coming. You hadn’t made up your mind?”

“It’s possible, but it’s just a theory.”

“But, if that’s the case, have you made your mind up?” You start rubbing his chest with your palm, feeling his heart pulse slowly. You are confident you know the answer now, but you want to hear him say it.

He grunts in laughter, shaking his head slightly before letting his fingers curl around the back of your neck. “I think you know the answer, princess. But if you really want to know, come up here.”

You push yourself from him, moving so you are straddling his torso. He brings his hands to your face once more, pulling you down so you are face to face with him. He kisses you, slowly initiating intimacy with his lips. He isn’t saying anything, but you can feel what he is saying through the act alone. 

“I can’t close myself off from you,” he says between kisses. “And I don’t want to. Especially if you’ll have me.”

“I think you already know the answer to that, Lo.”

“Still, I wanna hear you say it.”

You pull away so you can look into his eyes, giving him all the sincerity you can muster. “I love you, and I want you to stand by me.”

He smiles teeth and all, and pulls you back down, kissing all over your face causing you to squeal. “Hmm I love you too, sweetheart. Always have.”

You both stay like that for a while, basking in each other's company in post-coital ecstasy by continuing to taste one another. Another thought came over you, and you can’t help but laugh again.

“If I had known sex would make you like this, I would have made a move a long time ago.” Logan jokes, breathing them in. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m laughing because it took me taking your cigars hostage to do it.”

Logan throws his head back, chuckling at what you presume is the same thing you are laughing about.

“Speaking of those cigars, can you grab them for me?”

You perk up, pushing away from him to lean over to your side of the bed. Your fingers stretch for the book, getting a grasp on it before getting settled back with Logan. He pulls you in quickly, hurdling you into his side. You see he has his lighter ready, which he must have grabbed while you were getting his cigars.

“You gonna smoke one?”

He hums, taking one out. “I only smoke these on special occasions. I think this qualifies.”

He carefully unsheathes a claw, cutting the end before it sinks back under his skin. He flickers the lighter, letting the bright flame linger on the end to get a good burn going. He then lays back, pulling you even closer into his side, before taking his first puff. 

You smile, laying your head against him as you let your eyes drift closed. You feel yourself drifting away, the smell of his cigar and the sound of his pulse lulling you to a deep sleep; a sleep with dreams that you hope feel like déjà vu in the near future.

[dollerinna]

I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)

warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end… just a lil’

first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!

The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.

Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.

A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.

On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.

It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.

Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.

Ugh, talk about creepy.

A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.

Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.

But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.

─────────────────

“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.

An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.

Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.

And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.

Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.

He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.

After all, good girls should never cuss.

Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.

He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.

Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?

Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.

Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.

Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)

Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.

Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.

With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.

He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.

“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.

Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.

Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.

Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.

Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.

He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.

The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.

However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.

─────────────────

Meanwhile…

“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.

Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.

“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.

As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.

“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.

True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.

Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.

Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.

Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.

-------☆-------

Pssst- Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

-------☆-------

Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭

[theinfinitedivides]

.

ey. it my mother's country and i love it to death but Dominica does vex me sometimes fr fr

[nanaslutt]

not so sneaky sex

ʚ synopsis: gojo and reader have sex while geto sleeps in the same bed

ʚ cont: fem reader, 4th year satosugu (19), the one bed troupe, sneaky not so sneaky fucking, dirty talk, exhibitionism?

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You held your breath as your eyes locked on Suguru's relaxed sleeping face, your eyes fluttering and your breath catching each time Satoru plunged his cock inside you. You were all so exhausted after your joint mission, that you insisted on stopping at a hotel for the night in a town none of you were familiar with. Of course, they only had one room with one bed. Luckily, the bed could accommodate two large men and yourself, so there was still a good bit of distance away from Suguru and yourself, but not nearly as much as there should've been when his best friend had his cock inside you.

Satoru held the underside of your knee up for better access to your cunt, making the blanket tent with your leg to accommodate the movement. His hand was firmly placed over your mouth to keep any of your whines and whimpers at bay, but even then it was hard to keep quiet when the tip of his cock was rubbing your g-spot raw. "you feel so good," Satoru whispered against the shell of your ear, his tongue finding your earlobe to bring to his lips before he bit down on it hard enough to make you wince.

"Did you like that? You just got so tight," Satoru laughed breathlessly, his cock throbbing with each thrust as he slowly fucked it in and out of you. "Mmmm," You tried to respond, but he refused to move his hand from your mouth as he kept fucking you. "Shhh… you don't have to answer, I already know you liked it," Satoru responded cockily, moving his lips down to your neck where he sucked his soft lips against your skin.

You tilted your head back against him, allowing him more access as his thrusts got rougher, the bed starting to shake with his movements—Suguru shaking with it. You watched Suguru's beautiful hair shake and fall off his shoulder onto his solid chest that was bare from the lack of clothes he had on. It turns out that sharing a bed with two other people can get pretty hot.

You gripped his wrist harshly at the change of pace, your whimpers slipping past the cover of his hand, seeming so loud in the otherwise silent motel room. "Rub your clit for me baby, my hands are a bit full," Satoru instructed against your neck, his breaths coming quicker as your cunt worked hard to milk him for all he was worth. "Hurry," He whispered when you didn't immediately respond. "Suguru isn't exactly the heaviest sleeper and-" He cut himself off with a loud groan when you reached down and started rubbing your clit in fast circles, your pussy squeezing him tighter than before.

"That's it pretty, make yourself cum all over my cock while you look at Suguru." He laughed through a groan as his pace picked up again. It was a miracle Suguru wasn't awake already. If not for the bed shaking then the loud squelching from where the two of you were connected or the not-so-subtle sounds that were slipping from your lips and Satoru's throat. Satoru buried his head in the crook of your neck, a whine vibrating against your skin just as you felt his pace get sloppy.

"Are you close?" He whispered, clearly on the verge of falling off himself. "Please tell me your close baby, I don't wanna cum without you but fuck," He groaned, biting into your shoulder and making you release a too-loud moan before he released you again, "You're so wet, it feels so good." You nodded quickly, trying to respond from behind his hand but the sound was muffled.

"Yeah? You gonna cum?" Gojo asked, his voice needy and strained with the effort it took not to groan the way he wanted. You nodded in response, your fingers rubbing quickly over your clit, making that sensation of your orgasm wind itself tighter and tighter. "Fuck, oh fuck fuck-" Gojo groaned, his cock now spearing into your cunt with no regard for the man sleeping just in front of you.

Moans were being torn from your throat as you were pushed over the edge by the force of his thrusting. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you let your orgasm flood through your body, your leg shaking and trembling in Satoru's hold while he held it up as he continued to fuck you through your high. "I'm cumming, take my cum p-pretty," Gojo whined, biting your neck as he stilled against your ass, his cock throbbing inside you as he fucked you full of his cum.

You could feel his abs clench and twitch behind you as he rolled his hips in a circle against your ass, his cock massaging your oversensitive walls as he let your cunt milk him dry. His body finally went slack against yours just as he placed your leg back down, keeping himself buried inside you. Your eyes were still shut as you caught your breath, your head leaned back against him.

The hand that was covering your mouth gripped your chin and turned you to face him as he met your lips with his own in a lazy, slow kiss while the two of you basked in the aftershocks, his cock still twitching inside you.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you jolt out of Satoru's hold, your head snapping back to the man in front of you. Satoru didn't seem alarmed in the slightest, he just laughed as he met Suguru's eyes from behind your body. "Are the two of you going to let me get some rest now, or were you planning to invite me for round two?"

[alisonwritesimagines]

Count On Mom ~Batfamily Imagine~

Summary: The kids try to get Bruce to get away from the computer. Luckily, there is always one person who can take his mind out of anything including Batman duties. You.

Author’s Note: Haven't posted much in a while and I kept seeing a lot of Batfamily stuff at the last convention I went to so here we go!

BatFamily Masterlist

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: boob flashing, hint to smut

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Three of the batkids stared at their adoptive father as he had been stuck in front of the screen in the Batcave. None of the moved as they watched Bruce in some kind of trance.

“How long since he moved?” Dick asked Cassandra and Jason.

“A day,” Cassandra monotonous answered.

“I think he blinked a minute ago, does that count?” Jason asked.

“It’s official. Alfred called it. He said he’ll bake cookies if we can get Bruce to stop working,” Duke said as he walked into the batcave.

"Step aside," Jason said as he cracked his knuckles. "This will be over in no time."

As the kids began to try to get Bruce to move away, no effort was made to moving Bruce.

"I got an idea," Dick said as he took out his phone.

You felt your phone ring, making you put the groceries down onto the kitchen island so you could answer your phone. You had just gone to the store to grab some ingredients to make dinner for tomorrow's dinner.

“Hello?”

“Hey mom! Are you and Damien almost done with grocery shopping yet?”

“We just got home. Why?”

“We’re trying to pry Bruce off of the computer in the Batcave and Alfred said he’d make us cookies if we get him away from the screen.”

“I’m on my way,” you say with a chuckle at the end.

"Already began to bake the cookies. I know you'll be able to get him away," Alfred told you.

"Of course I can. That's my superpower in this family," you joked.

When you got to the Batcave, you saw your husband tiredly staring at the screen in front of him. The dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep made you upset but you knew there was one thing you could do that would always get his attention.

"Aw my poor husband," you say.

"You got this mom?" Jason asked you.

“Step aside kids and close your eyes,” you tell them as you walked over to your husband.

“What are you going to do mom?” Dick as as he covered his eyes. The rest of the kids quickly covered their eyes to avoid to see what you were going to do.

You climbed onto Bruce’s lap before lifting both your shirt and bra in front of him. Bruce quickly snapped out of his daze before looking up at you with a smile.

“Tempting me my love?”

“Maybe,” you smile as you pulled your shirt and bra down.

“Let me have my cookies and you can have me,” you whispered into his ears as you stood up.

“Okay kids. Enjoy Alfred’s cookies,” you say as you headed out.

The moment the kids uncovered their eyes, they watched in shock as Bruce already began to make his way towards you.

“Leave it to mom for getting Bruce to do anything other than his Batman duties,” Jason said.

"I wonder how she does it," Duke says out loud.

"Because dad's got it bad for mom," Dick tells him.

By the time Bruce got to you, you were eating your chocolate chip cookies that Alfred had made with Damien. You winked at your husband as you kissed Damien’s head.

“Alfred, why don’t you and the kids go out for a bit? It’s lovely outside,” you tell him.

“Of course,” Alfred said before walking over to get the rest of the kids. You began to head upstairs to your room, knowing that you had stirred something in Bruce.

“You coming Bruce?” You called out. You smirked as you heard Bruce’s fastened footsteps.

You let out a laugh as you felt him pick you up. You held onto him as he rushed over to the bedroom.

“I owe you some alone time don’t I?” Bruce asked you with a smile.

“Yes you do. Now, while everyone is out of the house, why don’t you make it up to me?” You asked him.

“I plan to," Bruce said before kissing you passionately.

[gojodickbig]

car sex with bsf!satoru x f!reader😗

conts: nsfw!!! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!

wc: 3k.

divider from @uzmacchiato !!

if looks could kill,

that brunette dude you were just chatting with? yeah, he’d already be six feet under.

don’t get him wrong—satoru gojo isn’t the jealous type. seriously, he’s not. and he knows you’re not doing anything wrong; you’re just out here having fun. but watching you laugh at some guy’s jokes? that was enough to make his blood boil and his head spin like he might actually hurl.

and seriously, he knew for a fact that guy wasn’t that funny.

so why the hell were you laughing so much?

satoru knows that what he’s about to do now isn’t fair. not even close. because he’s just your best friend. he’s been your best friend for years now—the one who’s always had your back, the one who’s sat through your messy breakups, listened to your drunken venting, and never once let you down. you trust him with your life.

he’s your ride or die.

and god, you’re his.

and unfortunately for that guy, satoru gojo doesn’t share what’s his.

or well…what’s about to be his.

satoru moves through the crowd, his sharp eyes never leaving you. your smile was still a little too wide for his liking.

when he reaches you, your eyes settle on him, and your look softens.

his heart stopped for a second.

“oh! satoru,” you say, flashing him a smile, “this is—”

“sorry,” gojo cuts you off, his voice smooth, turning to the guy and flashing him one of his disarming grins. “i need to borrow her for a sec.”

you blink, surprised by the interruption, but before you can even protest, gojo’s hand is around your arm, guiding you away.

“we’re leaving,” he says firmly, his voice a little too low.

you stumble a bit to keep up with his pace. “wait, satoru, what’s going on? why—?”

he doesn’t say anything right away, pulling you through the crowd and outside into the cool night air. when you’re out of sight of the party, he finally slows down, but he doesn’t let go of your arm. stopping, he turns to face you.

“seriously, what was that?” you ask, your tone a little confused, but you have a pretty good idea of what’s going on.

he takes a deep breath, like he’s just been through a war. “he was getting way too close to you,” he mutters, his voice tight. “and you were—” he stops himself for a second, like he’s trying to control his frustration. “fuck—i just didn’t like it.”

you blink, thrown off by the sudden shift. “satoru, we were just talking. it wasn’t like that.”

gojo crosses his arms and gives you a pointed look, his mouth twisting into a frustrated but amused frown. “don’t play dumb. you were leaning in, hanging on his every word. i’ve never heard you laugh that much at my jokes.”

you open your mouth to protest, but before you can even speak, a small laugh escapes your lips.

“so that’s what it’s about?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you’re jealous?” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “satoru, i wasn’t leaning into him. i don’t even like him. he’s just a friend from middle school. he recognized me and came to say hi. we were just catching up. i was laughing because he was telling me stories from back then, not because he’s some funny guy.”

gojo’s jaw tightens, his brows furrowing as he looks at you. then he lets out a low, frustrated “oh,” like the realization just hit him. “so you weren’t getting all googly-eyed over him?”

you shrug, suppressing a smile. “no, dumbass, i wasn’t.”

he runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep his cool. “well, shit. i don’t know why it bugged me so much. guess i just don’t like seeing other guys around you. especially when you give them that look.”

you roll your eyes, unable to hold back the smile now. “i told you, i wasn’t giving him any look and he was just being friendly.”

he shrugs with a grin, trying to act cool. “yeah, well, i didn’t like it anyway.”

-

the walk to the car had been quiet, too quiet for you. when you two arrived at the car, he opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in.

“get inside. please.”

sliding into the seat, you barely had time to register the sound of the door slamming before he rounded the car and climbed in beside you.

the car was dark, the faint glow of the streetlight outside illuminating his sharp features as he turned to you.

“i’m sorry, by the way. i didn’t want to ruin your night, you know. but fuck, you drive me fucking crazy. seeing you talking so close with that guy drove me mad.” he reached out, his hand sliding up your face and squeezing it gently. “do you even realize what you do to me? i’m so fucking tired of hiding it just because i don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

your breath hitched as his words sank in, your pulse pounding in your ears. “satoru—”

“shh,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear. “i’m talking now.”

his hand reached out, sliding down your thigh and pushing the hem of your dress higher. “tell me to stop, sweetheart. tell me to stop, and i will.”

“satoru—”

“tell me, baby. what do you want? want me to stop?” his hand slid higher, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. he groaned softly, his breath hot against your skin.

“no—no, please don’t stop.”

and in that moment, satoru gojo lost his mind.

before you could process anything else, his lips were on yours. rough. hungry. demanding. his hand left your thigh to grip the back of your neck, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss. his tongue parted your lips with no hesitation, sliding against yours as if claiming every part of you in that moment.

the kiss was hot and dizzying, leaving you breathless as he devoured you like he’d been waiting for this forever. his teeth scraped against your lower lip, a low growl rumbling in his throat when he heard the soft whimper you couldn’t hold back.

he pulled back suddenly, his hand leaving your neck as he reached down to undo his belt with quick, practiced movements. the sound of the buckle clinking echoed in the tight space, followed by the low rasp of his zipper. he freed himself, his cock hard and throbbing, the sight making your mouth go dry.

“come here,” he ordered, his hands gripping your hips as he guided you onto his lap.

the cramped space made it awkward—your knees bumping against the console, your dress tangling even more up around your thighs. his hands slid under your thighs again, lifting you slightly to settle you over him. you gasped when his hand returned to your panties, his fingers teasing you one last time before pulling them aside.

“fuck, you’re soaked,” he murmured, his fingers sliding through your slick heat. “you were thinking about this too, weren’t you?”

“yes,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“that’s what i thought,” he said, his grin cocky as he pressed his thumb against your clit, drawing a soft whimper from your lips. “fuck, look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “so desperate for me. say it.”

“s-say what?”

“say you’re mine.”

“i’m yours,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. “i’m yours, satoru. all yours. always.”

“damn right you are.”

you bucked against his hand faster, chasing the pleasure he was giving you, but he stopped suddenly, pulling his hand away entirely. you whined at the loss of contact, but he only smirked, guiding his cock to your entrance.

“take it slow, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “i don’t want to hurt you.”

you bit your lip as you sank down onto him, the stretch making your breath hitch. his hands gripped your hips tightly, grounding you as you adjusted to the feeling.

his lips found yours again, this time slower but just as intense, as if he was savoring you now. the kiss deepened with every second. you clung to him, trying to adjust to his cock, feeling like you might melt into the seat if he didn’t hold you up.

“fuck,” you gasped, your head falling against his shoulder. “you’re so big—it feels so goooood.”

his chest rumbled with a groan, his grip on your hips tightening. “yeah? taking me so fucking well, baby.”

you tried to move, but the cramped space and his overwhelming size left you breathless. his hands slid down to your ass, lifting you slightly to guide you. he thrust up into you in sharp, deliberate strokes, hitting spots that had you crying out.

“fuck, satoru,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. “you’re so deep. i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he growled, his voice rough. “you’re made for me. just like that, baby. perfect fucking pussy—fuck.” he groaned.

your rhythm quickened, desperation driving your movements. the sound of your skin meeting his filled the small space, his low groans and your soft moans mingling in the dark.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” he asked, his thumb finding your clit again. “i can feel it. let go for me, baby girl. come on.”

your orgasm hit like a wave, your walls clenching around him as your body shook. the pleasure tore through you, leaving you gasping for air as your head dropped onto his shoulder.

“fuck,” he hissed, his pace faltering as he neared his own release. his voice was strained when he spoke again. “where do you want it, sweetheart? tell me.”

“inside,” you breathed, your voice trembling but certain. “want it inside. toru, please.”

“god, you’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, gripping your hips tightly as he buried himself deep. with one final thrust, he came, spilling into you as a guttural moan tore from both your lips and his. the heat of him filled you, the sensation making your already trembling body shiver.

for a few moments, the car was silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing. satoru’s hands slid up your back, holding you against his chest as he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

“i should’ve told you what i feel for you sooner if i’d known your pussy was this good…” he let out a breathy laugh, clearly pleased with himself.

you lifted your head, your hand swatting weakly at his shoulder. “you’re unbelievable,” you muttered, though the slight curve of your lips betrayed you.

“yeah? but now you’re stuck with me,” he smirked, tilting his head to capture your lips in a softer, slower kiss this time.

when he pulled back, his pale blue eyes locked onto yours, unguarded for once. “i mean it, though,” he said, voice softer now. “i should’ve told you how i feel sooner. you’ve always been it for me, you know?”

your chest tightened at his words, the raw sincerity in his tone making your heart race all over again. “well,” you murmured, brushing a strand of his hair back, “you’ve got me now, so don’t screw it up.”

satoru chuckled, the cocky grin returning to his face.

“trust me, sweetheart. i wasn’t planning on it.”

he leaned in, pressing one last kiss to your lips, and as his arms tightened around you, you knew you’d never want him to. “let’s go home now, yeah?”

© gojodickbig on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[wonallofme]

let it out, loser!

tw and tags: boxer!jungwon x fem!reader, smut, no condom, penetration, creampie, squirt, heavy dubcon, no plot just porn, the sex is nasty af, a little of blood (biting lips and fight wounds), allusion to past noncon, insanity from both of them. word count: 1.7k note: hi! i haven't written anything in a long time and just wanted to do something short. this is my first (official) enhypen piece, hope someone here likes it. if you know me from my other blog, you just know the sex i write is not the most sane one. again, this is pure fiction! Please be careful about the tags you wish to block.

credits for the divider: @bernardsbendystraws (link)

The sound of his keys being thrown to the table in your kitchen shouldn’t be that hot. The sound of his bag hitting your floor with fury shouldn’t make your panties get wet. Even more, the sound of his heart beating inside his chest so fast shouldn’t make you excited for what was about to come.

Knowing too well how he, his breath, his steps, his things, sounded when he was angry after a loss, shouldn’t turn you on.

One, two, three, four. You counted the steps he took.

Usually, if he walked around the room, he would be searching for condoms. He didn’t walk that much, so you immediately knew, he would be harder that night.

After all, he needed to let everything out to be himself the next day.

‘’I know you’re awake,’’ he said, making you open your eyes to not pretend anymore.

He didn’t try to be gentle.

His face was a mess, even in the darkness of the night, with the little to almost no light that trespassed your curtains, you could see a faint purple color on his cheek, and a bright fresh red on his lip. Both meant he would leave you hurting too.

You didn’t have to ask what he wanted from you.

You ruffled in your sheets.

You moved them so he could accommodate himself between your legs, and rubbing your eyes from the recent nap you had, you simply let him take your pajama shorts off.

It was better when you didn’t interrupt him.

You don’t hate this version of him. You know that, when the morning comes, he’ll be your nice boyfriend again. He’ll make breakfast and won’t talk at all about the night or his fight. He’ll let you clean his wounds, he’ll give you a silent soft kiss after walking you to class, and then he’ll go to the gym to keep training.

He made it hurt those nights, but he never made it hurt in your daily life.

Jungwon is the kind of boyfriend that makes sure you’re always comfortable while having sex. He leaves soft pecks on your cheek while fingering you, and he asks if you’re okay when he puts it in. He’s so tender, sometimes, you’re the one afraid of hurting him.

So, these times, when he doesn’t ask how you feel, and he just takes, you try to understand him.

A whimper came out of your mouth, totally involuntarily, when you felt his spit touching your entrance.

He was over you, between your legs, forcing them open with his own amplitude, staring at your entrance and how his saliva mixed with your wetness.

For these occasions, that little help was more than enough for you. He almost laughed. A smirk appeared on his mouth, and he let a curse out. Were you happy he was a mess? Was he really that pathetic? Why were you always so excited when he arrived from losing a match?

‘’You’re lucky I’m this kind, crazy bitch.’’

Pressing his tip on your wet clit, he exhaled loudly, looking defeated, before moving it down between your lips, smearing his spit along. He didn’t look at your eyes in this mode. He didn’t dare to look at your face. He concentrated on what he wanted from you, and you tried to find what parts of him were wounded so you could make a list of things you might need.

Ointment, bandages, cold pads, maybe you would have to cook him something nice too. Did you have apples left?

You couldn’t continue thinking when he slid in.

The burning made you leave a hurt sound out. You whimpered again, because of the pain, and hissed when he pulled out.

He didn’t ask you anything. He didn’t kiss your lips to ease it up or apologise in your ear before stopping altogether. You could see his mind thinking of something, and you wanted to suggest him, maybe he could give you more of it? As if reading your mind, he spat on his hand, a long line of drool finding his cock, and some of it spilling on your pussy on the way.

Your legs trembled with the sensation, somehow feeling a rush in your entire body. You wanted it so bad, this side of him, that when he wrapped the back of your thighs to oblige it all the way to your breast, you cried.

Not because of the sudden movement, or because of how challenging the position was, but because you knew he wanted you to feel it all.

And, when he wanted that, you would really feel it all.

‘’Fu-fuck,’’ you moaned when he bullied his way inside again.

Immediately after talking, you bit your lips.

He didn’t like it when you talked. Whether it was to complain or praise him, he didn’t care. He needed you to not talk or make him think or look at your face. He needed you to be, if possible, dead silent to only concentrate on his own thoughts.

Of course, that was almost impossible, so he would press a hand on your mouth if you didn’t behave, and in the worst cases, to mute you, he would press your face down.

Whimpers were acceptable. Broken moans, bearable. But words? No, never.

You wanted to apologize but it wasn’t the right answer, you knew it too well. You know him too well. Or so, you wanted to believe.

He pushed your legs further, slamming inside, pushing the air out of your lungs.

It continued hurting, but you couldn’t care less.

The awareness of him being there, the sound of his breathing, his hisses, the groans, you wanted it all.

A wet echo filled the room with the force he used to fuck you and your wet pussy taking him. Your walls moved to accommodate him, to welcome him with much enthusiasm, just like your hands pulling your legs closer to make it more comfortable for him.

He wasn’t wearing a condom, and just the memory of his cum all inside you made you tighten around him.

Inside your mind, you repeated give it to me, please, because your mouth wasn’t allowed to do it. It felt way too good. The first time, it made you deeply uncomfortable to feel it inside. You felt dirty, disgusting, and you couldn’t believe it had happened. Now, you couldn’t find the words to ask for it again.

You could only hope he lost.

‘’Fuck, why can’t I…? Fuck!’’

His torso raised, his hips aligned at a better angle, and he thrusted harder.

Your teeth were sinking on your lower lip, brows furrowing and eyes closing to not show him how much you were enjoying it. Probably, it was useless to even try to hide it.

Your shirt was sticking to your torso because of the sweat. Yours, his. Fuck, you heard him curse. The lower front wet spot, in no way, was from just sweat.

The spasms were arriving. You felt your abdomen get tighter, and you tried to calculate how much time had passed. It hasn’t been long enough, you concluded. You couldn’t cum, you had to hold it in, for him, because it couldn’t end so fast. For him, that short time was not enough. It couldn’t be enough.

He needed you to hold it. He needed it. He.

You cried. This time, a few tears escaped. You turned your face to the side, and a salty flavor on your tongue distracted you.

You only noticed you bit yourself so hard your lips were bleeding when you felt more of the metallic taste invading you.

Out of the ordinary, he leaned to inspect your face. His hand tactlessly gripped your chin and forced you to face him, and when he saw the drops of blood flooding your delicate lip, under your teeth, he gulped.

‘’You’re such a mess too.’’

His mouth found yours in a second, obliging you to leave your poor lip free. He, first, just grazed them, doubting to do such a soft act with you, before crashing your wound with his.

The kiss, just like the sex, was not delicate at all.

The sting in your lips was not a sensation you were familiar with. His lips were always soft with you, at least until that moment. At much, they would be lustful, making out with you for long periods of time, but never brute.

His fingers stabbed your jaw, and his tongue prodded out.

You couldn’t breathe properly, overwhelmed with his strength, so you opened your lips to inhale some air, an act he took advantage of by barging his tongue into your mouth.

You had no way of using your brain at that moment. His tongue inside your mouth stealing your little air, his entire weight sinking you to the bed, his shoulders maintaining your legs up and against your chest, his cock balls deep inside you. It was all too much. Your head was too dizzy to remember exactly at what point you had your orgasm.

You remember your legs shaking, and an embarrassing loud cry muffled with his mouth against yours.

Also, you remember the broken moan he left out, and his hips reassuming a brutal pace that makes you roll your eyes with the mere memory. His long cock had hit a spot that made you lose yourself, and your pussy, so sensitive with how he had continued using you, had the most intense orgasm you ever had.

The clean gush finished wetting the front of your shirt, splashing his abdomen and making a pod slide down onto the bedsheets. Sadly, he didn’t care that you were trembling and bawling because of it. He plunged back inside, biting your cries and mixing both bloods while trying to find his own orgasm.

He left it out all inside you.

When you felt his warm cum invading you, you passed out.

After that, all is black. You try to move your body, finding it uncomfortable and painful. Still, you turn your head, finding your boyfriend’s naked back beside you. From the way his breath is calm now that he’s sleeping, you deduce he’s back to normal after finding his release.

Your shirt is different, clean, and the bed sheets are blue instead of white, so you know it’s not the same set from the night before.

At the sensation of his cum leaking out of you, you wonder if changing your clothes and sheets was the only thing he did to you while you were unconscious.

[echoekhi]

I’m Declaring War Against “What If” Videos: Project Copy-Knight

What Are “What If” Videos?

These videos follow a common recipe: A narrator, given a fandom (usually anime ones like My Hero Academia and Naruto), explores an alternative timeline where something is different. Maybe the main character has extra powers, maybe a key plot point goes differently. They then go on and make up a whole new story, detailing the conflicts and romance between characters, much like an ordinary fanfic.

Except, they are fanfics. Actual fanfics, pulled off AO3, FFN and Wattpad, given a different title, with random thumbnail and background images added to them, narrated by computer text-to-speech synthesizers.

They are very easy to make: pick a fanfic, copy all the text into a text-to-speech generator, mix the resulting audio file with some generic art from the fandom as the background, give it a snappy title like “What if Deku had the Power of Ten Rings”, photoshop an attention-grabbing thumbnail, dump it onto YouTube and get thousands of views.

In fact, the process is so straightforward and requires so little effort, it’s pretty clear some of these channels have automated pipelines to pump these out en-masse. They don’t bother with asking the fic authors for permission. Sometimes they don’t even bother with putting the fic’s link in the description or crediting the author. These content-farms then monetise these videos, so they get a cut from YouTube’s ads.

In short, an industry has emerged from the systematic copyright theft of fanfiction, for profit.

Project Copy-Knight

Since the adversaries almost certainly have automated systems set up for this, the only realistic countermeasure is with another automated system. Identifying fanfics manually by listening to the videos and searching them up with tags is just too slow and impractical.

And so, I came up with a simple automated pipeline to identify the original authors of “What If” videos.

It would go download these videos, run speech recognition on it, search the text through a database full of AO3 fics, and identify which work it came from. After manual confirmation, the original authors will be notified that their works have been subject to copyright theft, and instructions provided on how to DMCA-strike the channel out of existence.

I built a prototype over the weekend, and it works surprisingly well:

On a randomly-selected YouTube channel (in this case Infinite Paradox Fanfic), the toolchain was able to identify the origin of half of the content. The raw output, after manual verification, turned out to be extremely accurate. The time taken to identify the source of a video was about 5 minutes, most of those were spent running Whisper, and the actual full-text-search query and Levenshtein analysis was less than 5 seconds.

The other videos probably came from fanfiction websites other than AO3, like fanfiction.net or Wattpad. As I do not have access to archives of those websites, I cannot identify the other ones, but they are almost certainly not original.

Armed with this fantastic proof-of-concept, I’m officially declaring war against “What If” videos. The mission statement of Project Copy-Knight will be the elimination of “What If” videos based on the theft of AO3 content on YouTube.

I Need Your Help

I am acutely aware that I cannot accomplish this on my own. There are many moving parts in this system that simply cannot be completely automated – like the selection of YouTube channels to feed into the toolchain, the manual verification step to prevent false-positives being sent to authors, the reaching-out to authors who have comments disabled, etc, etc.

So, if you are interested in helping to defend fanworks, or just want to have a chat or ask about the technical details of the toolchain, please consider joining my Discord server. I could really use your help.

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See full blog article and acknowledgements here: https://echoekhi.com/2023/11/25/project-copy-knight/