#or respond to me and tell me what they think
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raspberry-vinaigrette · 3 days ago
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@iconkon thought of u too
Messaging people for the first time is so hard. What am I supposed to say? Like, "You seem really odd and your blog intrigues me. Do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters?" What! Whatever. I will just follow you back and stare at your blog with my big beautiful brown eyes.
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hellokittyish · 1 day ago
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part one here.
★ thinking about mutual masturbation on facetime with ex!satoru which starts off with you just staring at him in some sort of daze, wondering what on earth possessed you to pick up the call in the first place. this is a mistake, you know that... so why aren't you hanging up already?
but before you can dwell too long on the answer to that question, your train of thought is rudely interrupted by a particularly loud moan echoing through the speaker.
“mmh… you actually didn’t decline for once," the white-haired menace gasps out, the slick sounds of his hand gliding up and down his cock only picking up in volume as he lays eyes on you. “shit— you don't know how much i've missed seein’ that pretty face of yours, baby.���
“you’re so shameless, satoru.” you mutter, lacing your tone with as much disdain as you can muster; but the way your own hand somehow snakes its way beneath the waistband of your sweatpants and into your panties tells an entirely different tale of how this whole situation is really making you feel.
“yeah,” he muses in an unapologetic hum, making a show of tilting the camera down to give you a better view of where he's currently thumbing his leaky, blushing tip. “but… ah— so are you, otherwise you would’ve blocked my new number the second i sent you that dick pic.”
“w-well how do you know i wasn't about to press the block button right when you called me and i accidentally clicked accept instead?” you shoot back through teeth which are clenched partly in annoyance and partly in an effort to hold back letting your own pleasure show on your face.
“nah, don’t give me that bullshit,” satoru snorts amusedly, leaning in closer to the screen and tilting his head to the side, snowy lashes fluttering seductively as his bright eyes stare knowingly into yours. “if you’re not enjoying this, then i want you to show me that your hands aren’t in your pants right now rubbing that pretty little pussy.”
shit. of course he'd be able to see through you that easily — he is your ex, after all. but no... you can’t let him win just yet. so, as subtly as possible, you pull your hand from your panties and hold it up to the phone screen, hoping against hope that the darkness of your room hides the wetness of your palm.
“hah. nice try, baby,” he drawls smugly, smiling so wide now that both of his annoyingly cute dimples are on full display; and it’s deliberate, too. he knows full well they were always your weakness. “...but i can see your sweet juices coating those cute fingers from here.”
and he knows he has you right where he wants you when you still don't hang up the call like you both know you should, instead just shoving your hand right back into your panties and rubbing messy circles over your clit while keeping direct eye-contact with him — trying to beat him at his own game, are you? oh, how he's missed you.
so he picks up the pace of his jostling fist around his cock, candy-pink lower lip caught between his pearly teeth as he tries to catch even a small glimpse of your bare skin through the screen; and god, only you could make him act this pathetic, this desperate. "fuck... please, pretty, y'gotta give me something to work with here. h-how about you pull your top up just a little for toru, hm?"
and you've already let this escalate too far to back out now, so you decide to throw caution to the wind and tug at the edge of your oversized tee just enough so that your bare tits spring free, courtesy to your preference for not wearing a bra around your apartment.
"o-oh, just look at those. i missed my girls s'much. bet you wish they were in my mouth right now, huh?" satoru rasps out, balls tightening to an almost painful degree as he reaches down to pay the heavy, neglected sacs some attention by gently fondling them.
and you, having finally caved and slid a finger into your fluttering hole, can only respond with a soft whine as you reach up to knead a breast with your free hand, the image of his skilled mouth suckling on them like he always used to making your much-too-empty cunt clench around your digit with need.
and that singular sweet, sweet sound from your lips that he's been deprived of hearing for months is all it takes for him to finally bust a load all over his chest and hand, goopy white streaks tainting his previously unmarred pale skin as his entire body trembles with a pleasure only you can give him.
and when he eventually manages to compose himself enough to glance back down at the facetime and realize that you're still trying to reach your own climax, your meek little fingers clearly not enough to finish the job, satoru has the absolute audacity to lean right in close to the screen and mutter out a cheeky…
“hey, if y'want me to come over and help you with that then all you gotta do is agree to get back together with me, baby.”
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street-smarts00 · 2 days ago
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Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do
Spencer Reid x Reader
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Summary: Your first Christmas with Spencer and you get his name for secret Santa. 
WC: 1.8k
Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, friends to lovers, one use of Y/N I think A/N: Sorry I went MIA :( I got busy with school. I hope to push out many ideas while I’m on break tho. Here’s something cheesy and festive for the holiday season I hope you enjoy! (not beta read don't kill me)
Nothing was right. Nothing you found was the right present. 
This was your first secret Santa with the BAU and you picked Spencer's name out of penelope’s mug. At first you thought it would be easy to buy a present for him because you knew him so well. In almost a year of being with the BAU you grew the closest with Spencer. 
What you didn’t expect was your present ideas to not live up to your own expectations. Nothing you came up with could live up to your own standards. Of course your “slight” feelings for him definitely affected this, but you tried to tell yourself that wasn’t true. 
You ran through dozens of ideas. Clothing, a new scarf, tickets for a play, special edition of a book he loved. But nothing felt like the right present. 
You almost gave up in your search for the perfect present for him. The gift exchange was in less than a week and you still had nothing. Sitting at your desk in the bullpen you considered settling with one of your first ideas. 
While getting up to refill your coffee mug you noticed Spencer’s attention was focused on his computer. He sat there deep in thought with his brows furrowed and lips in a fine line. When you walked by his desk you saw he was playing an online chess game. 
“Working hard or hardly working?” you joked. 
He popped out of his focus from your presence. “I finished my files a little early,” he responded bashfully. 
“Are you at least winning?” 
He smirked, “I’ve won four times. But that’s not even the fun part. The fun is doing different plays every time and seeing what the computer comes up with as the best response.” 
That’s when it hit you. An idea for Spencer’s gift. 
Finally something that felt like a good gift for him. At the end of the day you rushed out of work to go to the craft store and get your supplies. You worked on the gift everyday after work. 
Soon the weekend rolled around and you found yourself at Rossi’s. His living room had the biggest Christmas tree you’d ever seen. Everyone’s gifts sat there for the evening. After dinner you all sat down to exchange gifts. 
“I want to go first!” Garcia exclaimed. She jumped up from the couch and hurried to the tree to grab her gift for JJ. 
JJ excitedly opened the gift bag to find a small black and grey purse with a colorful crochet keychain. The idea that Garcia also handmade part of her gift gave you a sense of relief. 
“Oh this is so pretty. Thank you so much,” she beamed, admiring the bag and twirling the keychain. Garcia squealed in happiness before JJ offered a hug to her. 
JJ then handed over her gift to Rossi, a bottle of scotch. He smiled and thanked her for the bottle saying how his collection needed a new addition. 
He stood up and brought his hands together looking at the tree. “My turn.” He grabbed a thin box wrapped in silver sparkly wrapping paper and walked over to you. 
“For you, my dear,” he handed you the box. 
Your eyes widened and lips perked up at the gift. It may be a little silly but, part of you wished that you were Spencer’s secret santa. You reminded yourself that the possibility of you both picking each other's names was unlikely. The possibility of some things being the same between the two of you was … unlikely. 
You ripped back the paper to reveal a large eyeshadow pallet. Upon opening it, you saw an array of beautiful shades you couldn’t wait to try out. 
“Rossi, this is so sweet. I love it,” You thanked with a bright smile. 
Now it was your turn. Everyone’s eyes only made the moment more stressful. You got up and grabbed the box with a nervous hand. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too cheesy or corny? What if he thought it was useless as he already owned two of them?
You tried to quiet your thoughts as you handed him the box, but they had no intention of leaving.
“Merry Christmas Spence,” you said softly.
When you turned and walked back to your seat you neglected to see the rising blush on his face. 
Spencer glanced down at the white and red striped paper. He carefully peeled it off and opened the lid to reveal a chess set nestled in between red tissue paper. The board spaces were off-white and royal purple with corresponding chess pieces the same colors. When he picked up the wooden pieces and saw small leaves and flowers painted on them. The King and Queen specifically had crowns in a shimmering gold. 
“Wow look at that,” Emily admired.
Upon further inspection he noticed the small human imperfections in the details. The way not one leaf or flower looked exactly the same. Or how the clear coating over the paint was slightly streaky in some spots. 
“Did you paint this?” He asked.
You nodded your head and answered , “Yeah I did.” 
A faint “awe” could be heard across the room from Garcia. 
“Y/N,” Spencer started, his voice full of admiration. “This is … beautiful.” 
The butterflies in your stomach were getting restless. 
“Really?” you asked, not able to hide the smile spreading on your face. 
“Yes! It’s Perfect,” his eyes sparkled at you. “I love it. Nobody’s ever given me something like this.” He beamed at you with a smile that made you love sick. 
The realization that you both were not alone set in and Spencer cleared his throat before closing the box. The gift exchange continued as Spencer handed over a present to Morgan. 
The rest of the night was filled with catching glances and far away looks between you and Spencer. He seemed to feel more relaxed in a way after receiving your gift. Not that he was acting any differently. He just seemed more open. With the group and with you. 
You lived off that feeling the whole evening. The idea that you made him happy. You helped him see he was appreciated and loved. 
Not that he had to know you loved him. 
He didn’t know that. Right? 
As the hands on the clock passed you announced your departure and said your goodbyes. You stepped outside and felt a chill against your skin. 
You held tight onto your keys as you walked to your car. The snow had just started to fall. Occasional little flurries fell down from the sky. 
“Wait!” Someone yelled from behind. 
You turned to find Spencer trying his best to run but not slip on the icy parts of the driveway. When he got closer you noticed his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink. Probably from the cold weather you thought.
“I wanted to formally say thank you for the chess set,” he explained. 
“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile. You stuffed your hands in your pockets away from the cold. “I’m glad you like it. I was worried you’d find it cheesy.” 
He looked confused. “Why would I find it cheesy?” 
You shrugged, “because I hand painted it.”
“But that’s what makes it perfect,” he reassured. His voice is sincere and soft. “It’s personal and shows you care.”
His eyes widened. “Oh um-“ 
He suddenly remembered why he rushed outside and scrambled for something in his jacket pocket. It was a small cube shaped box wrapped in paper covered in snowflakes. Quite fitting for the weather.
“I know I technically wasn’t your secret Santa but I still wanted to get you something.”
You took the gift from him with a slack jaw. “Spence-“
“This isn’t because you were my secret Santa. I still wanted to get you a gift regardless,” he reassured. 
“I- Thank you,” you started unwrapping the gift. 
“It’s not homemade like yours but I hope you still like it.”
”It doesn’t have to be homemade for me to-“ the wind was stolen out of your lungs.  
The gift was a small gold and white music box you immediately recognized. You opened the lid to reveal a ballerina in a pink tutu spinning as Sleeping Beauty Waltz played. Your heart ached as you admired the tiny dancer.
”Is this the music box from that antique shop in Seattle?” 
While on a case in Seattle, you and Spencer went to an antique shop to ask the owner about evidence found at the crime scene that was purchased there. You fell in love with a beautiful music box in one of the aisles. 
“It is. I saw how you looked at it in the store and in the car you said it reminded you of when you used to do ballet. So before we left Seattle I went back to the store to get it for you. I thought it would make a great Christmas present.”
“But, that was three months ago.”
He sheepishly smiled and his cheeks only got more red. “Yeah, I had to keep it a secret for a while.”
Your heart rate started to pick up as the butterflies returned. “I can't believe you went back and bought this for me,” you muttered in disbelief. 
“Of course I would. You mean a lot to me and I knew this was something that would make you happy.” 
You admired the music box before carefully placing it in your purse. “Thank you so much. I love it.” 
His smile grew and reached his eyes. His eyes looked beautiful in this lighting. The Christmas lights from the house made them look practically golden. Even in the freezing cold you could melt from his eyes.
He shifted his weight and licked his lips. He seemed wrapped around the words in his head. “I also wanted to ask if maybe you’d want to go see The Nutcracker with me.” 
Your heart damn near stopped. 
“It’s playing at the theater downtown. I was thinking if we don’t get a case then we could go see the show on Friday. Maybe, if you want to, that is,” he rambled in nervousness. 
“I’d love to,” you beamed. 
His face brightened at your eagerness, but his nerves were still present. “But not as friends. As a date?” 
You chuckled, “Yes Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. I think the nutcracker is a perfect first date.”
“Great,” he said with relief. “And maybe afterwards we might have time for a game of chess with my new board.” 
God he was cute. 
“That sounds great.”
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rottenfyre · 3 days ago
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Do you think Bruce would introduce y/n to the justice league? I could totally see her simping over the flash (Or conner Kent 👀).
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The first time you meet Conner, you’re immediately smitten. He’s tall, gorgeous, and has that perfect blend of confidence and awkward boy-next-door energy that you thrive on.
You don’t even bother introducing yourself properly. After the initial “Hey, pretty boy, wanna fuck?” incident, you lean into your new role as his unsolicited sugar mama.
Conner, tries to respond, but you’re already calculating how much of Bruce’s money you’ll need to spoil him.
During one mission, you dramatically announce, “Conner deserves everything! Clothes, gadgets, vacations—all on Daddy Bruce’s tab!”
Once, you bought him an entire motorcycle. When Bruce found out, he dragged you into the Batcave, his voice dangerously calm.
“Explain why my credit card statement says you purchased a $50,000 bike.”
“It’s for Conner. He deserves nice things.”
Bruce’s eye twitches. “Conner can fly. He doesn’t need a bike.”
You shrug. “But he looks so good on it, Bruce. Don’t be stingy.”
You’re constantly “borrowing” Bruce’s money for ridiculous things.
“Bruce, I need a million dollars.”
“For what?” he asks, already exhausted.
“To buy Conner a pony. He’s always wanted one.”
Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not giving you a million dollars.”
“Fine,” you huff. “But don’t come crying to me when Conner’s sad and pony-less.”
You have a love-hate relationship with Diana. You’re in awe of her beauty, strength, and grace, but you’re also deeply insecure.
During one mission, you stop mid-battle to dramatically compare your boobs to hers, much to everyone’s horror.
“Diana,” you sniff, clutching your chest, “I’ll never be able to compete with perfection like yours. It’s not fair!”
Diana, ever graceful, reassures you, “You’re beautiful in your own right.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re perfect,” you reply, before glaring at Bruce. “He never says anything nice to me.”
Bruce, utterly done: “Because you don’t deserve it.”
During a training session, you randomly grab Diana’s hand and place it on your boobs.
“Feel that, Diana. Am I Amazon material yet?”
She humors you, nodding seriously. “You’re getting there.”
You: “If I bulk up, can I join Themyscira?”
Barry finds you hilarious. He loves how unfiltered you are, even when it gets way too inappropriate.
Once, during a mission, you casually said, “Barry, do you think you could vibrate fast enough to—”
Barry, cutting you off, flailing: “DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE.”
You just smirk. “I’m just saying. There’s potential.”
He starts speed-dodging your flirting, but you’re persistent. “One day, Speedy, you’ll come around.”
You have exactly one question for Hal when you meet him:
“So, hypothetically, could you make a functional dild—”
Hal, already holding up a hand: “Nope. Don’t even finish that thought.”
You pout. “Why do you even have the ring if you’re not going to use it creatively?”
Clark tries his best to remain polite and patient, but you test his limits.
“You must’ve been sculpted by the gods,” you tell him once, blatantly checking him out. “What’s it like being perfect, superdaddy?”
“I… um… thank you?” Clark stammers, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck while Bruce glares daggers at you.
You immediately give Arthur the nickname “Aquadaddy” and refuse to call him anything else.
“Look at those arms, Aquadaddy. What’s your bench press, a blue whale?”
Arthur smirks, clearly amused. “Something like that.”
You: “Bet you could throw me across the room.”
Arthur: “Why would I do that?”
You: “For fun. And because I’d enjoy it.”
You’re also obsessed with his tattoos.
“Did it hurt? Can I touch them? Are you planning on getting more? What if we got matching ones?!”
He indulges you for about five seconds before realizing you’re just trying to find an excuse to grope his arm.
“You’re worse than Barry,” he mutters.
During an underwater mission, you accidentally blurted out, “Do mermaids exist? Be honest.”
Arthur: “They’re… complicated.”
You: “Complicated? Are they, like, your exes?”
Arthur groans, swimming away while you cackle.
You’ve made it your life’s mission to torment Bruce.
When the League gathers for a meeting, you always find a way to embarrass him. One time, you slid into the room dramatically, pointed at him, and declared, “That man is the reason I’m not married yet!”
Bruce: “How is this my fault?”
You grin. “Because I’ll never find another man who looks as good in a suit. You’ve ruined my standards.”
You are Bruce’s biggest headache. Every time he turns around, you’re doing something wildly inappropriate.
During a League movie night, you plop yourself on the floor between his legs, resting your head on his thigh.
“Your thighs are so firm, Bruce. You ever think about becoming a leg model?”
Bruce just stares down at you, utterly done. “Go sit somewhere else.”
You grin up at him. “Nope. This is my spot now.”
As unhinged as you are, everyone in the League has a soft spot for you. You make them laugh, even if it’s at Bruce’s expense.
And while your antics are embarrassing for Bruce, they all know you’re a fierce fighter and incredibly loyal. When it matters, you’ve got their backs—and they wouldn’t trade you for anything.
Except Bruce. Bruce would absolutely trade you for five minutes of peace.
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reilemon · 16 hours ago
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🌹Surrender❄️
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♡︎ synopsis: Sylus and Zayne show you that you can't get away with lying.
♡︎ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader x Zayne
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♡︎ tags: barely any plot, mfm dynamic, oral (both male and female receiving), orgasm denial, dvp
♡︎ word count: 5.5k
♡︎ a/n: this fic is part of the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event made by @nanamiscocksleeve and I wrote for @laddelulu30 . It was challenging ngl, but I had fun and I hope you'll like it!
♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping. divider by @anitalenia
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The car hums softly, the tension inside it palpable. Zayne’s hands grip the wheel, his hazel green eyes fixed on the road ahead, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Sylus sits with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You sit beside him, looking out the window, twisting the damp hem of your shirt as you can feel Sylus’ glare on you.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Zayne’s calm voice breaks the silence.
You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It wasn’t planned,” you mumble. “My friend called last minute... I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”
Sylus shifts beside you, leaning closer. “You didn’t think lying about being at a coffee shop might be a big deal? Or leaving your location on so I’d find out anyway?”
You stiffen, guilt tightening your throat. “I thought both of you were busy and it was just easier that way.”
Sylus scoffs. “Easier? For who? You, sneaking out? Or us, finding out you’re not in your apartment like we thought?”
“Sylus,” Zayne interjects, his eyes flick to the mirror, catching yours. “This isn’t about the coffee shop, or even going out. It’s about trust. We can’t keep you safe if we don’t know where you are.”
The word trust stings more than Sylus’ sharper tone. Your fingers clench tighter around your sleeve, twisting the fabric until it wrinkles under your grip. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything,” you say with a lump in your throat. “My friend needed me tonight. She just got out of a bad relationship, and wanted to go out.”
Sylus presses further. “And when it got dangerous? What then? You knew enough to text me—why not just tell me the truth from the start?”
Zayne’s grip on the wheel tightens. “Do you know what went through my head when Sylus told me you weren’t home?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “When I saw where you were? You’re lucky we got there in time.”
Your throat tightens, and you glance out the window as you mumble, “I didn’t think it’d turn into such a mess.”
Zayne exhales slowly, and you can see Sylus in the corner of your eye shaking his head. You know you’re in the wrong and that you made a few stupid decisions tonight, but your pride is not letting you admit it.
The car slows to a stop at a drive-thru, and you hear Sylus grumbling under his breath.
“This place again?”
You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips when you catch Zayne roll his eyes before answering. “Yes, it’s the only nearby place that works at this hour.”
Sylus sighs dramatically but complies, rattling off an order as though it’s beneath him.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The apartment greets you with its familiar scent and warmth. What also greets you is pieces of clothing and makeup scattered around the living room. You’re sure your boyfriends noticed the mess, but you’re surprised no one made a single comment as they made their way to the kitchen. You take off your shoes and join them. 
Sylus places the bag of food onto the table, his gaze flicking toward you. “Are those the new jeans?” he asks. 
Caught off guard, you glance down at yourself, smoothing your hands over the denim. “Uh, yeah.” 
“Told you they’d look good,” he says, leaning back against the table, his arms crossing over his chest. The way he says it makes your cheeks warm. 
Before you can respond, Zayne’s voice cuts in, giving you the same compliment. He steps closer, his eyes softening as they glance over you. Tonight, their attention makes you more flustered than usual, so you thank them, your cheeks burning, and you busy yourself with helping Zayne unpack the food.
The three of you engage in small talk as you eat the late-night meal, the earlier tension from the car ride dissipating with each bite. Despite his complaints, Sylus cleans his plate with the efficiency of someone who secretly enjoyed it.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Remnants of the day washed away after the shower, the three of you settle on the sofa to watch a movie. Zayne and you slipped into pajamas while Sylus put on a shirt and sweatpants he kept in your apartment. As you sink into the sofa, the warmth of their presence surrounds you. You cover yourself with a blanket, nestling into the space between them. Sylus leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to send a small shiver through you. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.
You nod, your cheeks warming as Zayne reaches for your hand. His touch is light as he lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “It’s been a long night,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “You should try to relax.”
The tenderness of each gesture dissolves a little more of the tension lingering from the car ride. For a moment, it feels like the night’s events have been smoothed over.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
The blanket draped across your legs is warm, wrapping you in comfort as the faint scent of soap and shampoo lingers from the showers. You stretch out slowly, eyes still on the tv as you move to rest your head on Sylus’ lap. His hand rests on your head, the light touch of his fingers soothing. Your legs find their place on Zayne’s lap, his strong hands moving to cradle your feet. When his fingers press gently into your arches, eliciting a soft sigh from your lips. The way his thumbs knead into your soles sends tiny ripples of relief through your body. Sylus’ fingers gently massage your temple, while Zayne’s hands work slowly over your calves. For a moment, you’re content to lie there, letting their attention wash over you.
But your hand starts to wander.
It traces along the fabric of his sweatpants as you brush over the firm muscle of his thigh before your palm settles over his crotch. Sylus chuckles, and you feel his body tense slightly under your touch. His hand stills as he glances down at you. “You sure you’re not tired?”
You nuzzle against his thigh, “I’m sure,” you say softly.
Sylus’ gaze flicks past you, meeting Zayne’s over your head, the exchange passing in an instant.
You shift onto your back, blissfully clueless, the warmth of the blanket replaced by the cool air of the room as Zayne slides it away, folding it neatly onto the backrest. His hands move to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending faint shivers along your body as he pulls off the piece of clothing. You draw a sharp breath as Zayne’s long fingers trace the sensitive spot between your legs, the barrier of your underwear doing little to dull the sensation. His thumb presses gently, testing your reaction.
Above you, Sylus watches your face as you’re still resting your head on his lap. His hand threads through yours, his grip steady as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.
Zayne’s eyes flicker down, his full attention locked on the slow movements of his fingers. The pads of his ring and middle finger press firmly against the soaked fabric of your panties, sliding back and forth at a slow pace. The pressure builds as he alternates his rhythm—pushing his fingers harder against you, dragging them in slow strokes, then pulling back just enough to make you whimper. The dampness of your arousal soaks through the thin barrier, your panties clinging to your folds.
“Fuck,” Zayne murmurs. “You’re so wet, my sweet girl. You like this that much? Being teased like the needy little brat you are?”
Heat floods your cheeks at his words, but before you can respond—his thumb circles your clit, pressing firmly enough to draw a gasp from your pretty lips. Your hips shift against his touch instinctively, desperate for more, but his movements remain infuriatingly measured.
Zayne shifts, his hands pressing against your thighs, keeping you open as his head hovers just between your legs. Your legs tremble in his hold when you feel it - the slow swipe of his tongue over the fabric. A quiet moan escapes your lips as he does it again, his tongue dragging across the sensitive spot, his saliva mixed with your slick making the fabric cling to you. Your free hand moves instinctively, fingers sliding into Zayne’s dark hair, urging him closer, urging him to give you more. His eyes flick up briefly, and then you hear Sylus’ sharp tut from above.
“Tsk, tsk. You’re not in charge here, sweetie.” Sylus’ voice is rich with mock disapproval. He reaches down, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulls your hand away from Zayne’s head with. He presses your hand above your head, holding both of your wrists in place with one hand, while Zayne’s grip on your hips tightens, making it impossible to move. His fingers press into your skin, holding you down as his tongue flicks out again, swirling slow, maddening circles over your clit. Your head tilts back against Sylus’ thigh, a frustrated sound escaping your lips as you try to shift against Zayne’s hold.
“Look at her,” Sylus muses as he watches you squirm. “So fucking needy. Isn’t that cute?”
Zayne chuckles against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. But, after a few more frustratingly dragged out swipes, he finally relents. His hold on your hips loosening just enough to slide your soaked panties to the side, the cool air kissing your exposed skin, spreading goosebumps all over your skin. His thumb brushes lightly along your folds, spreading the slickness, before his tongue is finally on you, dragging slow swipes from your entrance to your clit. Relief courses through you, your thighs trembling as the ache that’s been building finally begins to ease. His tongue moves with precision, parting your folds and swirling around your clit with just the right amount of pressure.
Above you, Sylus’ ruby gaze flickers down, his fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. The fabric bunches in his hand as he lifts it higher, revealing the soft curves of your breasts, the cool air making your nipples pebble instantly. His free hand traces slow circles around one hardened peak, his thumb brushing lightly over it, teasing, before he pinches just enough to make your back arch off the sofa. Then, slowly, his hand trails up, over the side of your neck, before settling on your bottom lip. The gentle pressure makes your lips part instinctively, your tongue swirling around his finger. Sylus adds another finger, the digits sliding deeper as your lips tighten around them, coating them in saliva. Then he pulls them free and drags them down, swirling over the hardened peaks, the added slickness making you moan.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Sylus asks, his smirk widening as his fingers press harder, rolling your nipples between them.
Zayne’s lips seal around your clit with just enough suction to make you cry out. Each stroke and suck builds the pressure inside you to a breaking point, your toes curling as the pleasure coils tight in your core, threatening to snap. You’re so close—so close you can feel yourself teetering on the edge—
And then Zayne pulls back.
The loss of contact draws a frustrated, broken whimper from your lips, your hips jerking against nothing.
Zayne looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t look so surprised,” his voice calm and infuriatingly composed. “Brats don’t get to finish so easily.” His hands stay firm on your hips, keeping you still as you try to move.
Your lips part in protest, but Sylus cuts you off with a smug tut. “Ah, ah,” he smirks. “You’ll have to earn it first.” His fingers slide down, gliding over your soaked folds before delivering a sharp tap to your swollen pussy, the sudden jolt making you flinch with a yelp.
“Look at this mess,” he mutters, his voice dripping with mockery as he taps again, watching you flinch. “Needy little thing.”
His fingers glide through, your body arching into his touch in desperate need of more. But then he pulls away, leaving you trembling in frustration. His glistening fingers rise to his lips, his eyes locking onto yours as his tongue flicks out, savoring the blend of your juices and Zayne’s lingering taste. He chuckles, “You know we don’t let bad behavior slide.”
Before you can protest, Zayne’s hand slides along your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His hazel eyes meet yours, “You know we’re not angry,” Zayne says softly, as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “But we will take our time making sure you understand.”
His words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body trembling under the weight of their attention. Frustration wells up, but so does the thrill of knowing exactly what they’re doing. Of course, they wouldn’t let you off so easily—it’s Sylus and Zayne.
Sylus releases your wrists, and before you can process the absence of his touch, Zayne reaches for your hands, pulling you upward with ease until you’re sitting on the sofa. Sylus stands up, stepping beside you as his hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants. He tugs them down just enough to free his cock - thick, flushed with a bead of precum at the tip. Your breath catches as he strokes himself lazily, his eyes glinting when he notices your gaze drop to his length.
“Come here,” Sylus commands as he plants one foot on the floor, the other on the sofa, your mouth watering at the sight. He strokes one last time before dragging the head of his cock toward your parted lips. The salty bead of precum hits your tongue, and you can’t stop the whimper that escapes as you take him in. Sylus growls, his hand resting on the back of your head, holding you steady.
Beside you, Zayne stands up, mirroring Sylus’ stance, as he slides his pajama pants down and frees himself. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls your hand to him, curling it around his cock. He’s hot and heavy in your palm, twitching as his hand envelopes yours, his grip firm as he helps you stroke him. “Slow,” he murmurs softly. “Feel how hard you’ve made me.”
Sylus’ hips begin to move, his thrusts shallow at first, as the thick head of his cock pushes deeper past your parted lips. You hollow your cheeks, your tongue flattening beneath him, and the sharp hiss that escapes his lips goes straight to your core.
“Deeper,” Sylus growls, “I know you can take it.”
He doesn’t wait for you to adjust—his grip keeps you firmly in place as his hips roll forward, forcing his cock further down your throat. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you struggle to keep up, swallowing around the thick length stretching your throat. Spit drips from the corners of your mouth as he moves, hitting the back of your throat, making you choke with each thrust. Sylus’ movements falter for a moment, his thrusts growing erratic and then, abruptly, he pulls back. The sudden loss leaves you breathless and you look up to see his jaw clenched, his hand squeezing the flushed tip.
“Fuck,” he mutters in a shaky voice. “Almost made me finish down your throat.”
Before you can catch your breath, Zayne’s hand tilts your chin, guiding your mouth toward him, your lips parting instinctively as the head of his cock brushes against them. He presses forward, filling your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours as your tongue swirls around the tip, savoring the salty taste. A low groan escapes him, his hand resting on the back of your head as he sets a languid pace. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but the weight of him—hot and heavy against your tongue—makes you moan softly, the sound vibrating against him. Your hand finds Sylus, wrapping around his slick length as you stroke him in rhythm with Zayne’s thrusts. Sylus hisses through his teeth, his cock twitching in your grasp as he watches.
The ache between your legs becomes unbearable, your thighs pressing together in the desperate need for release. Unfortunately for you, Zayne’s sharp eyes catch the motion. Abruptly, he pulls back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop.
“No,” he says firmly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His grip on your chin forces your gaze upward. “Spread your legs.”
You almost whimper at the tone. “But—”
“Spread them,” Zayne repeats. The authority in his voice makes your thighs part, the frustration growing as Sylus chuckles above you.
Zayne’s hand shifts, guiding your mouth back to him. His cock slides past your lips again, and this time his thrusts are faster, each movement pushing deeper until the tip hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again, the sound of your gagging pulling a guttural growl from him.
“Just like that,” Zayne murmurs, his voice rough. “Take all of it.”
Beside him, Sylus’ breaths become rough and uneven as his hand tightens over yours, his hips snapping forward, drawing Zayne’s attention.
Zayne’s hand slides to the back of Sylus’ neck, pulling him forward until their faces are almost touching. His voice drops low, quiet enough that you can’t make out the words. Their whispers drip with intent, and the thought of them planning your undoing makes your pussy clench desperately, slick spilling over as your body begs to be used exactly the way they want.
Sylus’ eyes flick to Zayne’s, hazy with arousal, with a faint smirk on his lips. Zayne’s lips press to the sharp line of Sylus’ jaw, followed by teeth dragging over his skin before he bites down, rough enough to leave a mark. The sharp sting rips a guttural, feral sound from Sylus’ throat, his cock twitching in your hand, precum spilling along your fingers.
“Good,” Zayne mutters against Sylus’ jaw before he pulls back, releasing Sylus’ neck. Their eyes meet for a moment, before their full attention is back on you.
Zayne’s thrusts grow erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat one last time before he pulls out, leaving you gasping. You barely have time to recover before Sylus’ hand grips your jaw, tilting your face toward him, but his other hand grabs at the hem of your pajama top, tugging it upward in one swift motion, leaving you bare before him.
“Open,” Sylus commands, and your mouth falls open instantly, tongue slipping out. The flushed tip of his cock presses against it, dragging across it as he smears the salty slick, before his release spills suddenly, the first hot spurt hitting your tongue. The rest paints your cheeks, dripping down your chest, and clings to your skin in messy streaks. Zayne watches, his hand gripping your wrist as you stroke him. His cock twitches violently in your grasp, and when your fingers tighten, slick with his precum, it pushes him over the edge. A sharp, choked groan escapes his lips as his hips snap forward, his release spilling over your face and breasts, mingling with Sylus’ mess.
You’re trembling, every inch of your body aching with unfulfilled need. Sylus tilts your face up with two fingers under your jaw, making you to meet his gaze.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fucking perfect.”
Zayne’s fingers brush the corners of your tear-streaked eyes. “She is,” he agrees with a smirk.
You bite your lip as your gaze flicks between them - they’re both still hard, their cocks twitching and glistening.
Zayne moves first – he sits back on the sofa and grabs a large pillow and positions it behind him. Reclining slightly, he leans back against the cushion, his legs spreading as his cock juts upward. His hands reach for you, pulling you toward him, guiding you onto his lap and helping you recline against him. Your back presses against his chest, his warmth melting some of the tension from your muscles. His arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you to him.
“Just relax,” His voice is calm and soothing as his lips brush against the shell of your ear.
Sylus steps closer, his sharp gaze raking over your trembling form, smirk widening as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air.
“Fuck,” Sylus mutters, his eyes burning as he spreads your legs, his grip firm.
Zayne’s hands glide upward, smearing the mess of their release over your chest before his fingers close around your nipples, pinching just enough to make you gasp. Then, his fingers trail downward, leaving a sticky path until they stop just above your needy core. You grab onto his veiny forearms at the first stroke of his fingers over your clit, before his fingers dip lower, gathering your slick before gripping his cock. He presses the tip to your entrance, dragging the length of his shaft through your folds, catching your clit in the motion, making your pussy flutter.
Zayne shifts beneath you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance before nudging inside. The stretch is immediate, the delicious ache making your breath hitch as he pushes deeper, steadying your hips with firm hands. A raw, breathless moan escapes as he fills you, your head tilting back against his shoulder.
“That’s it.” Zayne whispers in your ear, his grip tightening as he holds you in place.
Every slow thrust presses against your most sensitive spots, each movement tightening the coil in your belly. Sylus watches as his hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly to match the roll of Zayne’s hips.
“Fuck,” Sylus mutters. “Look at her—dripping down to the base, and you’ve barely started.”
Zayne chuckles softly, his lips brushing your ear as his thrusts grow deeper, each one sinking to the hilt. The intensity builds with each roll of his hips, his cock filling you completely. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, the sound making Sylus’ hand quicken as he strokes himself.
“Are you ready to take me too?” Sylus asks, his voice low and teasing.
Your body freezes momentarily at the question, your pussy clenching around Zayne’s length.
“You… both?” your voice trembles. The idea intrigues you, but you’re hesitant. “I don’t know if I can - I mean – I’m not sure it’ll fit -”
Sylus’ smirk widens. “Oh, it’ll fit,” his voice is almost mocking, “You’ve been so needy tonight. This is what you’ve been begging for, isn’t it?”
Zayne nuzzles against your ear, his lips brushing your skin. “But only if you want it.”
You fall silent, your breath shallow as you process their words.  Sylus’ expression softens, his hand smoothing over your thigh as his gaze meets yours. “You can say no, darling.” he says softly.
Zayne presses a kiss just below your ear. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. You don’t have to take this any further.”
The sudden shift in their demeanor makes your chest tighten and their patience reassures you. You take a second to think. They’d never tried this before—never pushed to see if you could take them both at once. With how thick and long they both are, the idea had always seemed impossible. But tonight, the need is unbearable. You need to feel them—both of them—stretching you, breaking you, until there’s nothing left but the overwhelming sensation of them taking you completely.
You take in a shaky breath, “I want to. I’m ready.”
Zayne’s hands tighten gently around your waist, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll take care of you.”
Sylus’ teasing smirk returns. His hand grips his cock, the flushed head pressing against your stuffed entrance. Sylus’ cock nudges forward, catching your clit one, two times as he struggles to push inside. “Relax, sweetheart.” he whispers. Your legs tremble as Sylus presses forward again, the thick head of his cock pushing at your entrance again. A high-pitched whimper escapes you, as Sylus’ cock slips over your clit once more before the head finally begins to ease inside. Sylus moves slowly each inch forcing your body to adjust to the impossible fullness. The tip finally slips fully inside, your walls clamping down tightly around both of them. The sensation is almost too much, your gasps and desperate moans filling the air as your body struggles to adjust to the impossible fullness.
“Shh,” Zayne soothes, as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing perfectly. Just breathe, my darling.”
Sylus growls, his hand gripping your thighs as he stills. “So tight. Goddamn, Zayne, you’re not leaving much room.”
Zayne chuckles softly, his voice calm but you can feel his muscles tensing. Sylus shifts his hips, his tip stretching you impossibly as he inches deeper. The new fullness is overwhelming, every nerve inside you screaming for more.
“So fucking sensitive,” Zayne teases. “I bet she’ll cum before you’re even halfway there.”
The words make you whimper, your cheeks burning as Sylus pushes further. His hands tighten on your thighs as he finally bottoms out, holding still to let you feel every throbbing inch buried inside you. The maddening stretch of having both of them makes your pussy fluttering around them, pain and pleasure blurring together. Your breath comes in ragged, broken gasps as the tension in your belly coils tighter and tighter, impossibly close to snapping. You try to roll your hips, desperate to chase the climax that is right there, but their strong hands hold you still, denying you the friction you need
“I’m so close - !” you whimper, the desperation spilling from your lips as your head tilts back against Zayne’s shoulder. “I’m gonna—please, I need to—”
Sylus smirks down at you, “Close already?” he taunts. “I haven’t even fucking started yet.”
His hips shift slightly and that is all you need to fall apart, your orgasm crashing over you with devastating force. The tightness of your walls pulls guttural groans from both men, Zayne’s breath hitching against your neck as Sylus growls above you. They hold you steady while your body trembles in the aftermath, shallow gasps leaving your lips.
Sylus’ hand digs into your thigh, the grip bruising as his other hand braces on the backrest. His cock moves with shallow thrusts, the friction making your eyes roll back.
“You’re so sensitive,” Zayne murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “I can feel you clenching every time he moves.” Sylus’ pace quickens slightly, your moans growing louder as the coil in your belly tightens impossibly fast.
“Already?” Sylus teases, as he watches you writhe.
You don’t even register the question as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clench tightly around them both, the overwhelming tightness pulling a groan from Sylus, his hips stuttering briefly, while Zayne sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on your waist.
But Sylus doesn’t stop. His thrusts deepen, slamming into you, the drag along your oversensitive walls pulling pathetic whimpers as your pussy tightens around him. The slick, maddening friction of their cocks sliding together, every thrust dragging a raw moan from your lips as the stretch pushes you closer to the edge. Your breath catches, your back arching as the coil snaps. Pleasure rips through you, blinding and raw, tears streaking your face. You clench around them tighter, milking them both as the aftershocks crash through you.
Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his chest heaving against your back as his cock throbs inside you. The tight clamp of your walls around him has him on the brink, but he holds on as his hand moves downwards from your waist.
“You’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.” he rasps.
His fingers find your swollen clit, the first touch sending a shock through your body, making your hips jerk involuntarily. “Easy,” Zayne soothes, as he presses his fingers firmly against the sensitive spot.
Sylus’ grip on your thigh is bruising as he rams deeper, his eyes locked on yours – watery and heavy-lidded. “You’re milking me—gonna pull me apart.”
Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his fingers merciless on your clit, rubbing slick circles that make your hips jerk wildly. “Cum,” he rasps. “Now. Let us feel you, my love.”
Your body obeys - your walls clamp down hard, as you completely lose your voice from the overstimulation. Sylus curses, as your fluttering walls drag him deeper. His cock throbs hard before he cums, his release, hot and thick, floods you as his hips stammer. “Fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his voice breaking. In your fucked out daze you hear Zayne moan in the crook of your neck, as his hips still, burying himself to the hilt, his release hitting in heavy hot waves, mixing with Sylus’, leaving you completely full, dripping, and ruined.
Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your head lolling back against Zayne’s shoulder. His lips press softly against your temple, his hands stroking your waist gently as Sylus leans over, his breaths heavy and uneven. Every inch of you feels hypersensitive, your skin slick with sweat and cum. You’re pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat, the fullness lingering even as the men stay still, both of them still buried deep inside you.
Sylus’ hand moves from your thigh, his gaze scanning your face. “Breathe for me.” he says, still breathless. His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that streaked down your face. You nod weakly, your throat too dry to speak, and you focus on steadying your breath. Sylus smiles softly. “You did so good.”
Zayne’s lips press against your temple again, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “She handled it perfectly. Didn’t you, darling?”
The praise makes your cheeks flush, though you’re still too dazed to say anything. Sylus shifts first, pulling out slowly, the movement making you wince. His hand stays steady on your thigh, stroking softly for a moment before he walks away. Zayne follows a moment later, his withdrawal careful and deliberate. The sudden emptiness pulls a small whimper from your lips before Zayne’s arms tighten around you, holding you firmly against his chest.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers. His hands rub soothing circles over your sides, grounding you as he shifts to sit upright, cradling you in his lap.
Sylus returns quickly with two warm damp cloths. Zayne takes one to clean your face, while Sylus kneels in front of you as he gently wipes away the mess from your thighs and belly.
Zayne murmurs against your temple. “Do you need water? Anything else?”
Your voice is faint, barely above a whisper, as you manage to say, “Just stay… both of you.”
Sylus chuckles softly. “Like we’d go anywhere,” He tosses the cloth aside and sits down on the sofa beside you, while Zayne adjusts his hold, setting you gently to sit in between them and covers your lap with the blanket. The warmth of their bodies, every soothing stroke of their hands, their quiet breaths, soothe you. Though, you can’t relax.
Their care, their unwavering attention, makes the guilt bubble up. Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. You swallow hard, your fingers clutching the blanket as you glance between them.
You take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For lying to you. For sneaking out.”
Zayne presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice calm as he replies. “I’m glad you admit your mistake. We need to know where you are to keep you safe.”
Sylus’ nods as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “Exactly. We weren’t mad because you went out. We were upset because you didn’t tell us.”
Tears prick your eyes again, but this time they’re from relief. “I won’t do it again… I promise.”
Zayne smiles softly. “We’ll hold you to that promise.”
You nod, the exhaustion catching up to you as your body sinks further into the sofa, your eyelids heavy. But Sylus doesn’t let you rest – he stands up and takes you hand in his. “We need to wash up.”
You whine. “I don’t want too - I’m too tired.”
Sylus grumbles something before he leans down, grips your waist, and hoists you up over his shoulder. You yelp as you’re suddenly upside down, your protests turning into a mix of laughter and annoyance as you squirm in his hold.
“Sylus!” you laugh, your fists half-heartedly thudding against his back. “Put me down!”
“Not happening,” he replies smugly, his palm landing a playful smack against your bare ass.
Behind you, Zayne shakes his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he stands up, going around you two and towards the bathroom. “Take it easy, Sylus. She’s had enough for tonight.”
By the time you’re back in bed, wrapped snugly in fresh blankets, sleep takes you almost instantly, nestled between Sylus and Zayne, with your heart light.
335 notes · View notes
sweetdispatch · 3 days ago
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The card - Q. Hughes
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6 days of kinkmas
pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader
summary: Quinn and his girlfriend got into argument which led him to teach her manners
warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), safeword, dom!quinn, oral (f and m receiving), dacryphilia, slapping, orgasm denial
words: 1.8k
note: final day of kinkmas is here! but i have a surprise for 24th👀
---
Quinn, as a captain, was organising a Christmas party for his team. He needed your help but you were giving him a cold shoulder. A day earlier you two got into an argument and you didn’t want to forget this without apologies from him. You felt offended by his words and how low he thinks about you. As much as you wanted to help him, you didn’t want to give him satisfaction. 
“All I’m saying is that it would be nice if you would tell me about this party at least a week earlier. Not day before” You sighed, trying to explain to him why you were mad.
“You don’t do anything so what’s the issue that I told you this now?” 
“What is this supposed to mean?” His comment made you furrow yours eyebrows. 
“You’re sitting at home the whole day doing nothing. It shouldn’t make a difference that I told you now” He shrugged and you looked at him, shocked at the words he just said to you. You left the living room and went to the bedroom. 
This was yesterday and the two of you haven’t spoken since then. You had nothing to tell him because Quinn is the wrong one. If he thinks that you’re doing nothing, that’s exactly what you decided to do. You saw that he was struggling with preparing meals and cleaning at the same time but you were too stubborn to help him. 
“Could you help me with the cake? You're a much better baker than I am” He asked you politely when he saw you getting water from the fridge, but you hadn’t responded. You went back to the bathroom to do your makeup and acted like you hadn't heard anything. 
Quinn was furious at you. He couldn’t understand why you’re acting this way. In his mind, he hadn’t said anything wrong and you were the one who’s making a big deal of your conversation. He decided to let it slip for now, but after the party, he knew he’ll teach you manners. 
The party was going smoothly. You two acted like a loving couple around his teammates while you hadn’t sorted out the argument. You were chatting with other girlfriends when Quinn was standing with the boys near the kitchen island. One of the girls went to grab a drink and interrupted his conversation. 
“You’re a dick Quinn” She said and the boys looked at her. “You’re a dick for telling Y/N that she’s not doing anything in the house”
“Excuse me?” Quinn was taken aback by her words.
“She told us about your argument. How could you say this to her when she’s making everything so you could have a better life” She answered him and left. She sat on the couch and Quinn felt humiliated. 
The boys were chirping at him about this situation and he got even more mad at you. He started thinking about his plan to punish you for what just happened. You were completely unaware of the fact that one of the girls confronted Quinn and enjoyed the party. He could see you laughing from afar but he knew that you won’t be laughing when the two of you will be home alone. 
The party ended around midnight. When you closed the door after the last guests left, you sighed. All you wanted was to take off your makeup and get changed into something more comfortable. You started going to the bathroom when you heard Quinn. 
��Living room. Now” His voice didn’t leave a space for argument. You followed into the room and saw his furious face expression. “You think it’s funny to tell everyone about our conversation? You think this was nice when one of the girls came and called me a dick in front of others?” 
You were shocked. Yes, you told other girls about your argument but you never thought that they would direct this to him. You didn’t know what to say so you just stood there, waiting for his next move. 
“I’m using the card today” You froze hearing it. You completely forgot that a couple months ago you gave him a “card” that meant that he can use you however he wants and do whatever he wants. “You’re under my control and have nothing to say unless it’s a safeword, which is…?” He asked you to be sure you remember. 
“Sunflower” 
“Good, now I want you naked in the bedroom. Hands on your sides and no touching” 
You were turned on by the idea because sex with Quinn was always insane and you were curious what he’s gonna do to you. You took off your dress and threw it on the ground. You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come into the room. You trusted Quinn with your life and you knew that he would never hurt you but something in his voice made you nervous. You’ve been so caught up with your thoughts that you haven’t heard when he entered the room. He was standing only in his underwear. His voice brought you back from your trance. 
“Knees” You listened to him and positioned yourself in front of him. He was caressing your hair and tucked them behind your ear. “We could have a nice night but you had to run with your mouth. I think we need to put it into better use now. You already said too much” 
In a quick move, Quinn took off his underwear and you saw his hard dick. By instinct, you grabbed his dick and started playing with his length. He wasn’t happy with this and pulled your hair roughly so you could face him. 
“I said mouth. Don’t you dare to disobey me because it will end up even worse for you” You nodded and opened your mouth letting him put his dick inside. 
Quinn’s moves were rough. He was pushing his cock into your mouth without any mercy. You were gagging around him but this didn’t stop him. It turned him even more. You could feel the tip of his dick hitting your throat. Tears were spilling from your eyes and he laughed at the sight. Before he could cum in your mouth, he took out his dick. 
“Lay in the bed. Legs wide open” You do what he told you to. He kneeled in front of your pussy and started eating you out. “So wet and I’ve barely done anything” He chuckled and returned to licking your clit. 
Quinn pulled his fingers into your pussy and you moaned loudly. You felt incredible with his tongue on your clit. He could feel that you’re close to your orgasm but he stopped. You looked at him but he didn’t say anything. Only grabbed your hips and threw your body around. You were lying on your stomach when you heard.
“Ass up, face down” You positioned yourself and waited when you felt the first slap on your ass. You screamed by surprise not expecting this. “Next time you’ll want to act like a brat, remember how it feels” 
Quinn spanked you four more times. The pain became a pleasure for you and when the last spank laid, you moaned. He looked at your red ass for a couple seconds. He did this on purpose so you don’t know what he’s gonna do next. The next thing you felt was his dick deep buried inside of you. 
You were a mess under him. It felt so good when Quinn was fucking you roughly. You grabbed the sheet trying to find balance but with each thrust you were falling apart. It didn’t take him long enough to bring you close to your release. When he felt your muscles tightening around him, he pulled out. It was the second time when he didn’t let you cum.
“You’re not gonna cum until I say so” He stated and laid another spank on you. 
“Please Quinn, I need it” You begged him.
“Please Quinn, I need it” He mocked you. “You, my sweet girl don’t have anything to say” 
He thrusted into you again, this time you moaned loudly. He was keeping a hard pace and you went with your hand to touch yourself. Before you could do it, Quinn grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on your back. He did the same with your other hand. Now, you were totally at his mercy. Quinn was keeping your hands behind your back, still fucking into you. You were moaning and begging him to let you cum but he didn’t let you. Again, he pulled out of you and you cried. 
“I am gonna decide when you gonna cum, not you” He said not bothered by your tears.
Quinn threw you again and you were again on your back. He towered over you and thrusted into you again. You moaned but now, he shut you up with a kiss. It was the first time you tasted his lips today. His hand went to circulate your pussy and you started feeling overwhelmed. Other hand, I went to play with your boobs. This was all too much for you. All the touches, teasing and three denial orgasms. You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Sunflower” You said repeatedly, each time quieter from another.
Quinn took his dick out of you and panicked. He knew that he fucked up because you never used it before. He pulled you into a hug and started caressing your back. 
“Shh, you did so well. You’re safe” He was whispering into your ear and you started crying into his shoulder. It was breaking his heart knowing that he’s the reason you’re crying. “I’m so sorry baby, tell me what I can do to make you feel better” 
“Just hold me please” Your voice was breaking at each word. Quinn hugged you tighter and let you calm down. After a couple of minutes, you spoke again. “Can we take a bath and forget about it?” 
“Yes and no” You looked at him. His thumb wiped your tears. “We can take a bath but we have to talk about what happened. I need to know what exactly happened to push you to say this word. And don’t you even think that’s embarrassing. That’s why we have the word. To use it when it’s too much” He placed a kiss on your forehead. 
Quinn raised you and went into a bathroom to prepare your bath so you could relax. He stayed by your side all the time, reassuming you that everything’s fine and you’re safe. You appreciated it that he didn’t leave you alone to deal with this but wanted to help you. When you were ready to leave, again he raised you and gently dressed you up in his shirt and laid you on bed. 
“We don’t have to talk about this now but tomorrow okay?” You nodded and Quinn pecked your lips. “Goodnight babe, I love you and I’m sorry for today… and yesterday” 
“Stop, we’ll talk about everything tomorrow, now let’s just sleep… I love you” You curled into his chest.
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ddodol · 14 hours ago
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familiarity — l.cy
series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, ex!anton, fem!reader, pet names, dry humping, 'public' sex, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation. word count⭑.ᐟ 1.8k+
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✩🎧⭑.ᐟ [ it's ok, i'm ok — tate mcrae ]
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“ugh, are you kidding me?”
you were bummed that a friend couldn’t come pick you up for tonight’s halloween party because her boyfriend can’t keep his hands to himself. you already dressed up for tonight, all that’s left was for someone to come pick you up and come with you to the party.
thankfully, your friend had connections, or else you would’ve just moped around at home.
the only thing that’s holding you back, though, was the fact that it was your ex— something your so-called friend forgot to consider. now, you were shaking nervously on your couch, obsessing over your appearance and clothes.
you were dressed as a certain beloved comic book character, hair split into uneven pigtails, intentionally messy make-up, ruined cropped tee, booty shorts, fishnet stockings, and a bat in one hand to top it all off. you were quite the sight, and you knew he’d enjoy it just as much.
this costume was something you’ve been planning on for quite some time now ever since shotaro told you about his halloween party. you put a lot of time and effort into it, from accessories to altering the clothes you bought.
having your ex-boyfriend think that you put this much effort into your costume just because you found out he was picking you up today would be the last thing you wanted— and you know he’d bring up how you were still not over him at some point.
when the time came for him to come pick you up, you could’ve sworn he was checking you out from head to toe just as you expected.
normally, you would've felt flattered, but you were way past that now. you crossed your arms, “are you done? can we leave now?” anton chuckles softly, going around his car to open the car door for you.
for a very brief moment, you were surprised to realize that you’d be sitting at the back, not at the passenger seat like you always did. you hesitated, glancing at him awkwardly.
anton seems to have noticed, turning his head away to hide the growing smile on his face. it might’ve been months since you broke up but he could still tell what goes on in your mind, chuckling silently at how lost you looked.
”wanna take the passenger seat instead?” you beamed up at his suggestion, nodding quickly. anton smiles at you, nodding back.
unsurprisingly, anton looked as dashing as ever even if he was wearing a cheap swat uniform. black looked amazing on him, especially now with his hair reaching his shoulders. he looked good, too good actually.
he walked past you, stopping in his tracks when he felt something tugging at his pants. he looks down, seeing a velcro strip caught onto your fishnet stockings. anton tried to be discreet before you could catch on, pulling it gently.
”what are you doing?” you asked in a panicked voice when you felt the tugging on your thigh, turning your head to look at him. the darkness didn’t help and anton had to run his hands around to get a feel— ”anton?!” you squeaked out, surprised when he pinned you against the car door, upper body pressed flush against his window.
anton groans out, hands clumsily trying to break your stockings apart. his fingers grazing against your bare skin made him shudder, swallowing thickly as he gave into the temptation and gently caressed your thigh. he was getting sidetracked but he couldn't help it— he missed having you in his arms, way more than he liked to admit.
your skin felt soft and warm against his touch, scent overwhelming him from how sweet it was. anton could easily recall every single thing about you, every touch and caress that would drive you crazy.
”tell me to stop,” he sighed out, pressing his body against yours and sandwiching you in between his larger build and the cold car door. when you didn't respond, anton grabbed your ass, giving it a small squeeze, "look at me and tell me to stop."
you let out a shaky breath, turning your cheek towards him. anton cursed softly, the messy makeup you had on reminded him so much of the past; all the passionate nights after small squabbles where he got to apologize for his behavior and make it up to you.
"do you want to?" your voice came out quiet, hesitant even, but anton could hear it all. hell, he swore he could even hear how hard your heart was beating at that moment.
anton couldn't shake his head, breathing heavily against your neck as he leaned in. he nipped at your lobe before trailing wet kisses down your neck. his huge hand roamed around your body, warming you up effectively against the cold night air. he let out a sigh, brows furrowing at how familiar you felt and how easy it was to leave you trembling under his touch.
"need to hear a yes from those pretty lips, baby." you gasped softly, his hot breath fanning against your exposed neck. "i'll treat you so good, just give me the word," he groaned, hips starting to grind against your ass.
you whimpered, head spinning when you felt his cock starting to get harder, pressing onto your plush thighs. "fuck, yes," you breathed out, placing your hands on the car's window.
anton gripped on your hips, keeping you still as he slotted himself in between your legs. you pushed your ass out even more, swaying it against anton's movements. he moaned breathily into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
you were feeling lightheaded, body heating up from the slow but deep movements. you felt needy, whimpering at how familiar this feeling felt. there wasn't any affection involved, but you could almost fool yourself into loving him from just how much you wanted him in this moment alone.
"anton, this is so bad." he chuckled at your breathless murmurs, gripping on you tightly. he knew those were empty words, the way your hips moved against his was enough proof for him. anton badly wished that he could replace your lingering hatred for him with whatever he was making you feel right now, to just act like nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.
you shuddered at how desperate you were starting to feel, feeling heated from anton's teasing. "hurry," you breathed out, "just hurry, fuck, i need you. i need you bad, toni."
anton stilled his hips, eyes going wide for a brief moment before leaning in to press a soft kiss on your neck. "you have no idea how much i missed you," he whispered, voice laced with sweet desire.
"don't say shit you can't take back, anton." he laughs weakly, ignoring the disdain in your voice as he unapologetically tore more holes into your stockings before hooking his fingers up your shorts and tugging it up, leaving you gasping and whimpering at the pressure against your already sensitive core.
"baby, i have no reason to lie," he mumbled almost defensively. his hands moved busily, pulling your shorts down while his other hand unbuckled his belt. the fabric of his costume felt rough against your bare thighs, feeling it drop down as his hot length rested on your ass cheek.
you bit your lip, letting out a small noise when he slapped his heavy cock against your plump ass. "missed that, baby?" anton teased, smirking at every little reaction you gave him.
"tell me what else you missed about me and i'll give it to you like a good girl."
you wanted to complain, really, but the temptation was too great. his hands dug into your skin, warmth seeping into your core. his hands— you’ve missed them terribly, body tingling in response to his desperate touches. but more importantly, you missed having him inside of you.
you whimpered, resting your forehead against the vehicle’s window. “please,” you gasp, “i need you inside.”
anton chuckles, nuzzling his cheek against the crook of your neck. he pressed a kiss on your skin, leaving you shivering from the contact. “anything,” he whispered, “anything you want, darling.”
he pulled away slightly, gripping on his length while he pushes your shorts to the side. he mumbled soft curses, face contorting in pleasure as he rubs the tip of his cock against your wet entrance. anton pushed his cock inside, drawing out that sweet, breathless gasp from your plump lips.
”i fucking missed this,” he moans breathlessly, resting his head against your shoulder. anton began to move in a steady rhythm, your walls clinging onto him snugly. “always so needy,” he brought his hand down onto your ass, the loud smack echoing in the empty streets. “always so tight for me,” he gasps softly, brows furrowing.
you whimpered, legs starting to tremble. your voice grew louder, crying out at the increasing pace. anton’s hips snapped against yours, leaving you moaning and whimpering. he pressed on your back, pressing you closer to him and splitting your legs open even more. you cried his name, encouraging him to go faster, until you couldn’t take any more— just the way you liked it.
”take it,” he panted, “take all of me, baby.” you whimper, body melting from the overwhelming pleasure you felt for the first time in months. anton snaked his hand around your waist, gripping on you tightly.
”you’re close, yeah? i could tell,” he mumbled against your flushed skin. you clawed on the window, breath fogging up the tinted surface. your body tensed up, voice going up a pitch higher as he pressed his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust. he rubbed on your lower stomach, feeling his cock bulging as he thrusted deep.
you sobbed softly, barely keeping yourself up as your orgasm began to build up. “anton,” you moan, “keep going— fuck!” anton happily complied, smiling against your skin and leaving small bites on your shoulder. he panted, hands shaking as he reached down to roll your swollen clit, further amplifying your pleasure and leaving you shaking under his touch.
”fuck, fuck— oh, anton!” you cried, trembling as you came. he held you up, fingers still rubbing circles against your clit. he kept moving his hips, drawing out your orgasm for as long as you could take it.
”i know you could give me more than that, baby.” you whimper, sobbing sensitively as he kept pressing on your sensitive walls. warmth began to build up in your lower stomach, hips jerking from how sensitive you felt.
anton whispered praises into your ear, slowly driving you insane. his movements began to get sloppy, starting to reach his own high as your walls kept clenching down on his throbbing length. you weakly cried his name, fists balling up as you squirted all over his cock.
anton pressed your body against his, shuddering slightly as he came deep inside you. “fuck,” he mumbled, dragging his lips against your neck, lazily leaving kisses in its trail.
you panted heavily, resting your cheek against the window. you sighed, “i need a minute after that.”
he chuckles, kissing your jaw, “still plan on going to that party? i can bring you somewhere nice.” you sighed at his tempting offer. “somewhere warmer, perhaps?”
right. you two were still outside— at a residential neighborhood. if you were lucky enough, your mom would hopefully be asleep by now. how horrific.
”somewhere far,” you whispered, “i don’t think i can face my mom’s neighbors after this.”
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sharonaparadox · 1 day ago
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[Images: fancomic featuring Charlie and Vaggie from Hazbin Hotel, uncolored but for the reds and pale purples of their respective speech balloons. They are seen from behind standing together on a balcony with skyscrapers in front of them, Heaven and the hellish moon above them in the background as the two women lean against each other.
Charlie asks, “Did you really mean all of that?”
“Of course,” Vaggie responds.
The perspective shifts to show their faces. Charlie is looking over at Vaggie with a small worried frown as she asks, “Are you sure?”
Vaggie looks down with a soft smile as she replies, “I’ve been sure for a while, to be honest. It just took me some time to tell you. I just didn’t think I was worthy of you. I still don’t, really.”
Charlie turns and takes Vaggie’s hands into her own, looking shocked as she exclaims, “That’s ridiculous!”
Vaggie smiles warmly up at Charlie as she says, “It’s not! You have no idea how amazing you are. I’m nothing compared to you. But I want you to know that I’d dedicate the rest of my existence to be worthy of you.”
Charlie frowns tightly, her eyebrows furrowed and a small blush on her face as she looks down to the side and says, “I don’t know about being worthy and all that. It’s not like I’m some special little trinket that you have to be highly deserving of. What even is the metric for that? I’m just me. I don’t need you to prove your worth to me, but I understand that it might take you awhile to be convinced of that. I know I struggle with it too.” Vaggie looks up at her with a sad frown, and Charlie steps closer and continues, “All my life, what I’ve done and what I’ve wanted was for my people or my family. But Vaggie…”
Both women blush as Charlie raises Vaggie’s hands up to press a kiss to her knuckles. Charlie says, “You’re the first thing I got to want for myself. You make me feel so loved… Hell, I’m the one who doesn’t feel worthy of it all. I don’t think anything I could ever do would prove that I am.”
They look at each other with half-lidded gazes as they press their foreheads together. Vaggie says, “I don’t need that. I just love you anyways.”
Charlie pulls back and grins widely at Vaggie as she says, “Right back at you. There’s no need to prove anything, is there? Just let me love you anyway.”
End description.]
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from chapter 4 of my fic The First Guest
I'm soooo happy to have finished this fic. Writing is such a struggle for me, so I'm really proud whenever I get to finish a multi-chap fic. Here's my personal favorite scene to celebrate
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ylangelegy · 3 days ago
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unknown / nth ⭐ minghao x reader.
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your boyfriend gives you a language lesson before bed.
★ minghao x translator/interpreter!reader a.k.a the lost in translation couple ★ word count: 1.9k ★ genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, conversation about mandarin (my reference). takes place post-lost in translation! not entirely necessary to have read the fic prior to this. title is from hozier's song of the same name. not proofread. ★ footnotes: minghao did a brief weibo live and i've been missing lost in translation for quite some time now, so i jammed this out really quick 🚬🦆 may write more for/about this couple in the near future, so take this as the first of many! ♡
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“I think Cold Love really represents me well. It’s probably because I’m an INFJ.”
You press your palm to your mouth to stifle your laugh. Minghao doesn’t react visibly, but his hand waves at you off-camera. A wordless reminder of Be nice. 
The two of you are across the room from each other— him, perched on the couch of his hotel room, while you’re already tucked in bed. Minghao had promised his fans a quick Weibo live to discuss his most recent EP, leaving you to your own devices for the next hour or so. 
You didn’t mind. It was one of life’s simple joys, listening to your boyfriend talk. 
He spends the next thirty minutes or so discussing his creative process and answering fans’ questions. You don’t bother him, knowing you’ll have all the time in the world later to tease him for some of his remarks. Like his indignance at growing taller or his jabs at his age. 
As you busy yourself with mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you relish in the familiar sound of Minghao’s Mandarin. It’s probably your favorite version of white noise, really. The mellow tone of his voice contrasts the rapid, sharp way that he speaks. Despite being well-acquainted with the language, there are still some words that elude you. You make a mental note to ask Minghao about them later. 
Less than an hour has passed before you hear Minghao beginning to wind down. “Good luck on all of your exams. To the people working, keep working hard! Make lots of money,” he says hurriedly. “And good luck with love, too. I hope you all find someone who loves you back so you can experience all sorts of feelings.” 
He’s never been the type to drag out his goodbyes, so you’re not surprised when— after a final heart sign and wave to the camera— Minghao is finally clocking out of his live. 
Immediately, he slumps back onto the couch like the whole thing had drained him. Sure, lives weren’t necessarily one-sided, but he did have to hard carry when it came to the talking part of the affair. You flash him a sympathetic smile as you sit up in bed. 
“Done, xīngān?” you call out. 
Minghao doesn’t respond right away. You don’t hold it against him. He sometimes needed a moment, needed a minute or two to pull himself together. 
After staring at the ceiling for what feels like forever, Minghao lets out a shuddering exhale. “Done,” he responds, and he’s moving before you can register it. 
He gets to his feet and crosses the room in a few, quick strides. Once he gets to the bed, he wastes no time in reaching for you. His knees sink in the mattress; his hands dart out. 
You let out a slight squeal when Minghao tugs you into him. 
“Sorry,” he says, not sounding very sorry at all. This had been a premeditated act. You can tell in the way his arms immediately snake around your waist. 
You let out a defeated sigh against his chest, but make no move to pull away. “Tired?” you ask, your hands resting on the small of his back as you return his embrace. 
He hums a quiet ‘mhm’. “I’m not built for this anymore, xīngān,” he whines. 
The two of you know that’s a bold-faced lie. Still, you indulge your sulking boyfriend lest he begin to pout even harder. “My poor baby,” you coo, running your hands up and down Minghao’s back in a show of comforting him. “Gonna blame it on being an introvert?” 
“Shut up.” 
You let out a small laugh. You can’t see it, but you swear you can feel the curve of Minghao’s smile as he presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head. 
“Thank you for being here,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “It means a lot.” 
A part of you wants to insist that it’s nothing. It’s not every day that you can steal away to his hotel room, though. In between your own work of interpreting for the boys and working on subtitles for videos, there’s also the added layer of keeping your relationship on the down low. 
Tonight, Minghao had just tried to asked. Texted a couple of hours ago that he wanted to see you. And you could never really deny him anything, not even on your best days. 
“Anything for you,” you respond as you stroke the short hair at his nape. 
Minghao buries his face in the crook of your neck, his smiling mouth warm as he mumbles against your skin. “Don’t give me that much power,” he warns. “I’ll abuse it.” 
You chuckle. “I don’t doubt that.” 
The two of you lapse into another bout of quiet. This had always been your way, even back when the two of you were friends: Comfortable silences, unspoken agreements. Your new relationship had only given you two the carte blanche to be a little more touchy during your shared moments of peace. 
You’re fairly sure that Minghao has fallen asleep when he speaks up again. “How do you think I did?”
“With the live?” 
“No, with cuddling. Yes, with the live.” 
“Ask nicely.”
“Please?” 
You put Minghao out of his misery by returning his earlier gesture— leaving a quick kiss, this time to the line of his jaw. “Stellar as usual,” you reassure him. “I didn’t pick up on everything, though.” 
“That’s new.” Minghao shifts around on the bed until he can prop himself up on one elbow. He rests his chin in his hand but doesn’t stray too far. He stays hovering over you, his free arm remaining around your waist. 
He goes on to goad, “Your Mandarin must be getting rusty.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, shooting him a half-hearted glare. “How can it be rusty,” you retort, slipping into the language as if to prove a point. “When you’re always insisting that we use it?” 
No matter how many times that you speak to him in his mother tongue, Minghao always seems momentarily startled. The surprise always fades into affection, evident in the fond way that he gazes down at you. 
He matches your code switch without missing a beat. “I’ve told you, haven’t I? I love it when you speak Mandarin,” he says, punctuating his words with a quick pinch to your side. 
You swat his hand; he giggles down at you.
“Which parts did you miss out on?” he asks. 
It takes you a moment to recall the terms and phrases you’d wanted to question him about. “撒娇?” you ask, the unfamiliar word sounding almost hesitant on your tongue. Sājiāo.
A thoughtful ‘ahhh’ escapes Minghao. “Think of it like aegyo,” he offers delicately. “It’s— often in the setting of a relationship. Acting cute to be endearing.” 
“Like when you gripe about me not responding fast enough.” 
“Examples aren’t necessary,” he says wryly. “But, yes. Like that.” 
You flash Minghao a grin before snuggling a little closer to him, entangling your legs. The added touch makes his expression softens in the way it only ever does when it’s you. 
“Anything else?” he prompts. 
It’s not everyday that Minghao gets to play the ‘teacher’ role in your relationship. In the beginning, you had been his Korean tutor. In the longer run, you had helped him translate and transpose words that he couldn’t reach. Every so often, you would run to him for some Mandarin help, and you could tell that he relished in the shift in dynamic. 
The thought pushes you to keep asking, even though the words are inconsequential. “You used the term 暖男,” you note. “What was that one?” 
“Nuǎnnán,” he echoes, correcting your intonation. You repeat the word as he said it, and he gives a small smile of approval.
“It’s our version of ‘nice guy’,” he explains. “But it’s rooted a lot in culture. A nuǎnnán is a man who can be considered inherently warm-hearted in an otherwise patriarchal society. And no—” Minghao’s tone takes on a more chiding quality when he sees you about to interrupt. “Do not try to call me a nuǎnnán.” 
You jut out your lower lip slightly. “Why not?” 
The arm that Minghao had around your waist rises, just enough so he can tap the tip of your scrunched nose. “Don’t pull out sājiāo on me,” he scolds. 
It’s not necessary for you to act cute. Your boyfriend would be endeared by you either way. 
You chuckle at being caught, and Minghao’s sternness mellows. “One last.” You hold up a finger as you try to nail the phrase that had first caught your attention. “裸婚?” 
There’s a flicker of surprise on Minghao’s expression. “That was from a fan making a joke,” he warns before repeating the word himself. “Luǒhūn translates to— hear me out, okay?— ‘naked marriage’.” 
The sight of your raised eyebrow draws a sharp laugh from Minghao. “It’s another one of those cultural things,” he says. 
When he doesn’t add onto his words, you shoot him an incredulous look. 
“What?” he asks with feigned innocence.
“That’s it?” you prod. “You’re not going to explain what ‘naked marriage’ means?” 
“You have access to the internet, don’t you?” 
“Xīngān.” 
“That’s me.” 
At Minghao’s continued evasion, you merely huff and give up. It’s getting late, anyway, and he has to be up early in the morning for sound check. Come tomorrow, you’ll have to slip away before anyone can come looking for either of you. The boys aren’t privy to your relationship yet, and God forbid any of the other staff find out.
“Fine,” you say, unable to resist the urge to just be a little haughty. “Let’s go to sleep.” 
Minghao is undeterred by your contempt. If anything, it only makes him smile a little wider, gives him an excuse to pull you into his chest. He goes to cradle the back of your head, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair. 
You lean into his touch, burying your face into the front of his shirt. There it is again. Those few, precious moments where the two of you can just bask in each other’s presence. 
The silence stretches on this time. You’re properly drowsy by the time Minghao speaks up, his words quiet as he mumbles them against your shoulder. 
“No house, no car, no fancy ring,” he murmurs, his tone contemplative and sleepy. “Luǒhūn.” 
“A naked marriage,” you respond mid-yawn. 
“Mhm.”
“Nothing but love.” 
“You got it.” 
The conversation feels like it’s teetering on the verge of something consequential, something of value. But with the two of you already halfway asleep in each other's arms, there’s not much you can do besides exchange some light pecks and mumbled words.
“I think I’d want at least a house before getting married,” you say. “Or, like, an apartment.”
“What, you wouldn’t live out on the streets with me?” he teases lowly. 
Your eyes flutter close. “You would have to convince me,” you shoot back. 
Minghao responds with a lingering kiss to your forehead. 
“How long will it take to convince you?” 
It’s a little too early in your relationship for the topic of marriage to be seriously brought up. It’s fun to dream about, though. To talk about in hushed tones, to toy with in Minghao’s mother tongue. 
To imagine a time where this might be your every night— falling asleep in each other’s arms. 
“Might take you years and years,” you answer, a giggle rising from the back of your throat. 
Minghao’s arms shake as he laughs. His lips stay on your head, almost like he can’t bear to peel away from you for a minute too long. 
“I don’t mind,” he says as the two of you begin to succumb to sleep. 
The last thing you hear is his affectionate, soft promise of, “I’ll start working on convincing you, xīngān.” 
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 days ago
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The Safest Place
Sam and Dean & little sister!reader, John Winchester & daughter!reader
Synopsis: John has to tell you (4) about monsters, and you don’t take it well
Warnings: none, it’s short and sweet
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“And that’s what me and Sammy and Dean do. And that’s why we move around all the time, and why you can’t go to work with me, and…” John swallowed. “Kiddo that’s why you don’t have a mom. Demons took her.”
Dean couldn’t watch. He didn’t even want to listen. He’d wanted to keep you from the truth for so much longer, but you were so much more nosy than Sam had been. You went through John’s journal and asked about all the monster pictures you saw in it, you asked John countless questions about the guns and the newspaper clippings and…and everything. But it was more than that—you were also clingy. Clingy to the point where you’d sneak out and try to follow either John or your brothers when they went out to hunt monsters. After a close call with a vampire where you snuck into the Impala then almost got yourself killed, John decided that enough was enough. You wouldn’t last long in this life unless you had a healthy fear of the supernatural. So that’s what John had to give you.
“What if demons take you?” Your quiet whimper finally had Dean looking up. You were shaking, blinking up at your dad as if waiting for him to say that it was all a joke and monsters weren’t real.
“The demons aren’t gonna take me,” John promised. “That’s why we hunt. So they can’t take anybody else.”
You didn’t respond, so John reached down and picked you up, laying you down on his bed and tucking you in.
“Get some sleep, kiddo.”
John fell asleep quickly, but Dean could hear you tossing and turning even as he struggled to settle down himself. He was always the last to fall asleep, and having to share a bed with Sam since there was no pullout couch wasn’t helping.
Because of his insomnia, Dean was the first to hear your feet padding on the motel carpet as you slipped off John’s bed and tiptoed your way over to Dean’s.
“De?” Dean could tell you were crying from just the one syllable. “De, I need help.”
Dean rolled over to see you standing at the edge of his bed, your arms stretched out for him. Dean pulled you up onto the bed without comment, and once his arms were around you you refused to let him go.
“I don’t want the demons to get me, De,” you sniffled.
“Hey—“ Dean tightened his arms around you. “—I’m not gonna let any demons get you, ok?”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Sam whispered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
“Demons are scary, Sammy,” you whimpered.
“Oh honey…” Sam disentangled you from Dean’s arms and cradled you in his lap.
“How do I fight demons?” You rubbed at your eyes.
“Hey, you don’t have to worry about that,” Dean said. “I don’t ever want you thinking about it. Me and Sammy and Dad are gonna get those demons, ok? Nobody’s ever gonna hurt you.”
“Yeah, and you wanna know what the safest place is?” Sam asked. You nodded firmly. “It’s right about…” Sam laid back down, and Dean followed his lead. “Here.” Sam positioned you in between himself and Dean, tucking you under the covers and keeping one arm over you. You latched onto his arm, your tiny hands wrapping around his fingers.
“Nobody can hurt you here,” Dean promised. “Me and Sammy and Dad won’t let them.”
You reached your hand out for Dean, and he responded by putting his arm over Sam’s, so you had both of your brother’s arms protecting you.
You were asleep in minutes.
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810
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ariestrxsh · 3 days ago
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🍕 content warning: smut, praise, jealousy, masturbation, oral (f! & m!receiving), edging, begging, unprotected sex, light choking, sub!pizzaboy!chris, dom!boss!reader
🍕 author's note: this series follows sub!pizzaboy!chris and his tendency to mix business and pleasure. in part one, he sleeps with a customer after delivering pizza to her. in part two, he sleeps with a cop that pulls him over for speeding. now he must use his magnetic charm to seduce his boss to avoid getting in trouble for coming back late from a delivery.
🍕 summary: you can't help but get a little jealous when you find out your favorite employee, chris, has been sharing his meat with everyone but you.
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pizza guy part three
"That delivery should have only taken twenty minutes. Why did it take you an hour and a half?" You inquired, peering up from the nightly paperwork at Chris, who had just walked through the front door of the otherwise empty pizza shop.
He could immediately feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you.
Chris was your best employee when he wanted to be, but he was constantly pushing the boundaries with you and taking advantage of how much you let him get away with. You could never fire him, though, and he knew that.
He had too many redeeming qualities. He was always covering shifts, bringing in good reviews, and working without complaining. He was also extremely polite and had a lot of respect for authority, always calling you ma'am and asking what you needed from him.
Chris' only downfall was that he couldn't help but mix business and pleasure - always getting high on the job and entertaining the women who were metaphorically lined up for him in between deliveries and sometimes on deliveries.
He always had a good excuse, though. And when he didn't have an excuse, he'd turn on the charm. He saw the way you looked at him, your hungry gaze that would linger for a few seconds too long, and he recognized the need in your voice, every word coated with lust. He knew that in your eyes, he could do no wrong. He had you wrapped around his finger, and he wasn't above using that to his benefit.
"Chris. Where the hell have you been?" You repeated, interrogating him. "Sorry, ma'am.." he apologized, forcing a pout. "I got pulled over," which wasn't technically a lie. "Oh, Chris. You poor thing," you responded, your tone immediately changing as you walked over to him, giving the sweet boy a hug.
"Did you get a ticket?" You wondered, cradling his flushed face. "No, ma'am. Almost. I think the police officer has a little bit of a crush on me," Chris said, his blue eyes flickering back up at yours as he tried to hold back a smirk. Can't blame her, you thought, studying his handsome features as his seemingly innocent smile stared back at you.
You detected a scent on Chris, one you could recognize anywhere and one you'd already addressed with him. "Chris. Are you stoned right now?" You glared at him, looking at the redness in the whites of his eyes, dropping your hand from his face. "What?! No!" He objected defensively, avoiding eye contact.
"There's no way you just got pulled over. If a cop looked at you for longer than two seconds, you'd be in the back of the cop car in cuffs right now. I bet you were at your dealer's house," you accused him, crossing your arms over your chest.
"I'm not lying, ma'am. She did put me in cuffs," Chris responded, his cock stirring in his jeans as he recounted the events that took place earlier in the night. "You mean to tell me, you went from being cuffed to walking away without even getting a ticket?" You shot him a skeptical look.
He showed you his wrists, pointing out the red marks left behind from the metal that dug into them under the weight of himself and the cop while she riding him. "Don't worry about how I got off, ma'am. All's that matters is that I did," Chris responded, his gaze locked on yours.
You bit down on your lip, imagining Chris in restraints, offering to do anything to keep a clean driving record. You knew it was wrong. After all, he was your subordinate, but that was another reason you could never fire him.
He was so hot, and he knew it. He had this way of looking at you and talking to you when he knew he was about to get into trouble that immediately made you melt. You couldn't stay mad at him. Not even if you wanted to.
"Chris, you gotta be careful. I don't care you if you smoke weed, but you can't keep doing it on the job! You could have gotten yourself into big trouble tonight!" You jabbed your finger into his chest, giving him a serious look.
The truth was, you'd bail him out of jail if you could, but as much as you wanted to protect Chris from the consequences of his actions, you could only do so much when it came to the law. "I'm only hard on you because I care about you," you whispered, caressing his cheek.
"I know, but it makes me feel so good. Don't you like things that make you feel good, ma'am?" Chris asked, a bit of seduction seeping into his tone. You stood in silence for a moment, studying his pretty blue eyes and his pouty lips as he looked you up and down. You avoided his question.
"You know, Chris. I read a really interesting review someone left a while back about you while you were gone," you smirked, sauntering back over to your desk and pulling up the review on the computer. "Was it a good one?" He wondered, his facial features softening as he hoped you were about to start praising him.
"I don't know, you tell me. 'Their driver, Chris, has the best Italian sausage in town. He always goes the extra mile to please the customer,'" you read it word-for-word. "What could she have meant by that, huh?" You wondered with a bit of jealousy lingering on the tip of your tongue.
"I think she just really liked my meat, ma'am. I mean, the shop's meat," he corrected himself, giving you another sultry smile. "Is it the shop's meat? Because I certainly haven't been getting any," you remarked, glancing down at the outline of his half-hard cock in his jeans.
"Oh, ma'am. It would be so wrong," Chris purred, secretly enticed by the moral complexity of the idea of sleeping with his boss. His eyes dropped to your figure as his imagination took over, picturing how certain parts of your body would jiggle while riding him.
"Makes it even hotter, doesn't it? How wrong it is? What do I have to do to get a taste of your meat, huh?" You asked, getting up from your desk and slowly making your way towards him again. "All's you have to do is ask, ma'am," Chris responded with allure in his tone, taking a step closer to you.
"Well, I finished everything while you were getting pulled over," you smirked. "Why don't you come home with me, sweetie? It's the least you could do. I'll take really good care of you," you flirtatiously responded, leaning in and kissing his neck. You took both his hands and placed them on your waist.
"Oh, yes, ma'am. Please take me home with you. Take good care of me," he whimpered as he tilted his head to the side to give you better access, immediately giving into your advances.
Your lips were so soft, and Chris couldn't get enough of the way they felt on the sensitive nerve endings on his neck, sending blood rushing to the tip of his cock as a few luscious moans escaped.
"Oh, you like that, don't you?" You cooed, running your fingers along the bulge in his pants as your kisses grew slower, deeper, and more passionate. "Yes, ma'am," Chris mewled, grinding against your palm.
"Down, boy," you said, smiling and petting his package through his jeans as you retreated from kissing his neck. He nearly sobbed when you pulled away. "Oh, ma'am. You're so cruel. Getting me all riled up when we still have a long drive ahead of us," he whispered, already feeling lightheaded from the way you handled him.
"You were cruel first. Leaving me here all alone while you entertain other women. Don't you know how bad I need you here with me, Chris?" You wondered, your words drenched in envy as you delicately ran your hand across his chest.
Of course, you meant it in a professional sense, needing him at the store to help you close up, but you also meant it in a much more primal sense, and he did know. He'd known for a while now, but Chris wasn't the type to make the first move. He'd been waiting for you to finally say it. He nodded.
"Show me how bad you need me," he seductively whispered, tempting you. "Let's lock up, shall we?" You said, taking Chris by the hand, leading him towards the front door, and shutting off all the lights on your way out.
The two of you stepped out into the dark, chilly night, the breeze biting at your nose and stinging your lungs as you inhaled. You slipped the key into the lock, turning it until it clicked, and you tugged on the freezing cold handle for good measure.
Chris followed you to your nice, shiny, black SUV and climbed into your passenger seat. You started the ignition, your engine roaring as it turned over. You turned on the heat, placing your palm in front of the fan, waiting for the air to warm up.
Chris was still rock hard, his eager cock straining against the denim fabric he wore and his mind swirling with the possibilities of what you were going to do with him once the two of you made it back to your place.
"So, what really happened with that cop?" You deviously wondered, glaring at him before looking back at the road you started down. Chris blushed. "She handcuffed me and put me in the back of her car. Then whatever you think happened is probably what happened next," Chris smugly suggested.
You bit your lip, letting your imagination run wild. "And the customer, Chris? You naughty boy," you clicked your tongue at him, shaking your head. His head fell lazily against the headrest as he peered over at you with a submissive expression.
"Ma'am. I promise I'm a good boy. I don't have a naughty bone in my body," Chris lustfully responded, his cock beginning to twitch in his pants as his eyes danced over your lips, imagining how they'd feel wrapped around him. "Well, maybe one," he quietly admitted, shifting around, trying to adjust his aching erection.
"Take it out for me, Chris," you demanded. "Right now?" He asked, an upward inflection in his voice as his brows flew up. "Yes. Show me that pretty cock that the girls can't get enough of, hmm?" You hissed, placing your hand on his thigh and making it jump again. "Yes, ma'am," he nodded, unclasping his belt, undoing his button, and lowering his zipper.
Your eyes shifted between the road and his dick, favoring one more than the other as he started to pull it out. Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slightly open at the sight. "You like what you see, ma'am?"
You couldn't find the words to describe just how much you did, so you settled for a subtle nod. Its size was intimidating and intriguing all at the same time. He went to wrap his long fingers around his veiny shaft, but you swatted his hand away.
"Ah, ah, ah. I didn't say you could play with it," you teased him. He gave you a pout, his brows turning up in a look of anguish. "But I need it," Chris whined.
"I thought you said you were a good boy, hmm? Don't good boys listen and do what they're told?" You purred, playing upon Chris' praise kink and his need for your approval. He hesitantly nodded. "Then behave, Chris." You lightly patted his thigh again, driving him mad with your touch. "Yes, ma'am," he mumbled.
"Why don't we play a game? And if you're a good boy and play the game correctly, then I'll let you touch with it," You suggested, running your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "What kind of game?" Chris wondered, eager to let his hands wander below his waist.
"The kind of game where you tell me what happened with that customer who left that review while you stroke yourself, but you have to do exactly as I say. And you better listen and tell me exactly what happened or else you're in big trouble," you told him.
"But ma'am, I'm gonna get in trouble with you anyway," Chris quietly pouted, worried you were going to fire him for lying about his slashed tires that night.
"Oh, Chris. You could never be in trouble with me as long as you tell the truth," you cooed, softly running the back of your hand along his cheek. "You promise?" He timidly asked. "I promise," you replied, and you meant it.
"Go ahead, Chris. Start touching it," you voiced, giving him permission. His hand moved towards his cock, firmly gripping it, and he let out a relieved sigh as he started slowly stroking.
"So, tell me, Chris. Who instigated the interaction? You or her?" You interrogated him, glancing between the road and his swollen head, a wet patch forming on the front of your panties. "She did, ma'am," Chris told you.
"Did you go inside her house?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "I know I'm not supposed to, but.." Chris started to say. "But what? Answer me, Chris."
"Yes, ma'am. I did go into her house," Chris whimpered, his gaze meeting yours. "How'd she get you to stay, hmm?" You purred, watching Chris' facial features soften as he relaxed into his pleasure.
"She made me a cup of hot cocoa and started kissing my neck. She told me to call you and give you an excuse as to why I couldn't come back to work. Told me she'd make it worth it," Chris admitted, looking nervously at you with his blue eyes.
You gasped. "You naughty boy," you narrowed your gaze at him, a little annoyed that he had faked an excuse to get out of work but a little turned on by the fact that he'd done it to get his dick wet. "She made me call you while she was sucking me off," Chris replied, a smirk forming in the corner of his pink lips.
"You called me while she sucked you off?" You repeated what he just told you to make sure you heard him correctly. You squeezed your thighs together as you pictured him on the phone with you while he had his cock in another woman's mouth. "Mhmm," Chris nodded, pumping his length faster as it quivered against his palm.
"Slow down, Chris. You're gonna have to make yourself last a long time, so don't get too carried away," you smirked at him, thinking about how long you were gonna make him wait to finish. He took a deep breath and slowed the pace. "That's very naughty of you, sweetie," you responded in a voice just above a whisper.
The rest of the drive to your destination, you teased Chris, trying to extract information from him about his most recent sexual encounters, and he spilled the details to you relunctantly. Despite his hesitancy, his cock gave him away, jerking at every word you spoke that jogged his memory.
"Did she ride you, Chris?" You provocatively asked, and you watched it twitch again, listening closely as a soft whine passed through his lips. "I think she did.." you answered your own question, giving him a playful smile.
"You like it when the girl's in charge, don't you? You love to be bossed around in bed," you insinuated, and you watched Chris blush and nod in response as he ran the tip of his thumb through his precum, spreading it around on his sensitive head.
The banter between you and Chris was enticing to say the least, and the whole time you were soaking wet, buzzing with excitement about what Chris would be like in bed and how good his pretty dick would feel lodged inside of you while you bounce up and down on it.
You saw how close he was getting as you turned onto your street, and before he could finish, you stopped him. "Be a good boy, Chris. Put it away for a second. His eyes were filled with hurt and desperation, but he nodded and did as he was told.
Once you pulled into your garage, you turned to Chris, gently grabbing onto his hair and pulling his face just a few inches from yours as you locked your hungry gaze onto his.
"Look. Normally, I'd invite you in, give you something to drink, offer you something to eat, show you around. I don't have the fucking patience for that right now, Chris. What we're gonna do is go straight to my room, and you're gonna be a good boy for me and let me use you however I want for as long as I want. Got it?" You demanded.
Chris obediently nodded, his face conveying desire. You took Chris' hand, leading him in through your warm and cozy house that smelled like apple cinammon. You guided him up your stairs and into your bedroom.
You pulled him into a passionate kiss, your mouth crashing into his as the sexual tension between the two of you built to an all-time high. His pretty moans vibrated against your lips as you reached under his shirt, your fingertips brushing against his hip bones as you hooked them onto the hem of the material.
You pulled away long enough to pull his uniform off over his head, and you quickly dropped to your knees. Chris looked down at you, wetting his lips as he silently begged you with his eyes to do what he thought you were going to do. You unbuttoned his jeans, slid the zipper down, and pulled down his pants and his underwear.
You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue as if you were getting ready to please his cock, but you couldn't let him finish without a little more teasing. Instead, you retreated, standing to your feet as a look of disappointment seeped into Chris' expression.
It was just as hard for you as it was for him. You'd imagined this scenario a hundred times, and you couldn't wait to hear the pretty sounds he'd make while you suck on it, but the fact that you'd been waiting so long for it, made you want to savor every moment, every kiss, every touch..
You gently pushed him back onto your bed, and his eyes danced over you while he propped himself up on his elbows as you shed off your own layers, letting them fall to your feet. You climbed on top of him, pulling him into another passionate kiss as the two of you rolled around on your silky soft sheets.
"Be a good boy for me, Chris. Let me sit on your pretty face," you demanded from him, but it didn't take much persuasion. "Oh, yes, ma'am. You don't have to tell me twice," Chris eagerly replied as you gently pushed him down, guiding him to lie flat on his back.
You straddled his face, placing your knees on either side of his head and lowering your pussy onto his mouth. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you as close to him as possible as his tongue explored your folds, flickering back and forth over your sensitive clit.
You entangled your fingers in his messy hair, and you gently tugged on it, causing him to moan against you while his eyes rolled back in his head. The vibration that passed through his lips reverberated against your vulva, pleasure rushing through you.
You gently rocked your hips back and forth, riding Chris' face and grinding against his silky, wet tongue. You peered down into his gorgeous blue eyes as you combed through his brown locks. "You're such a good boy, Chris," you whispered, enjoying the feeling of his lips as he wrapped them around your bundle of nerves and started tenderly sucking on it.
"Yes, sweetheart. Just like that," you encouraged him. He nuzzled into your heat, relishing in the lovely sounds that left your lips and the way you rutted against his face, all testaments to how good he was making you feel. He could eat you for hours.
He reached up and grabbed your breasts, gently rolling your nipples between the pads of his fingers. He moaned against your clit a few more times as he delicately sucked on it, rapidly flicking his tongue against it. You felt pressure building in your lower stomach as you tightened the grip of your thighs around Chris' head.
"Good boy," you whimpered again, your body beginning to shiver as your pleasure reached a crescendo. His cock twitched at your praises, and his hands moved to your waist, stabilizing you as he admired the way you looked from this angle.
He took your clit between his lips and gently tugged on it until you were coming undone. You threw your head back and started fervently grinding against his face, losing yourself in your orgasm as you released onto his tongue.
He lapped up every last bit of your wetness, savoring the sweetness that filled his senses. Once you were completely satisfied, he removed his mouth from your pussy. "Did I do a good job, ma'am?" Chris asked, his big, blue eyes staring back at yours with his chin covered in your juices.
"Oh, sweetheart. You always do. You were perfect. Such a good boy," you purred breathlessly as you ruffled his hair once more, starting to lift yourself off of him. "Get comfortable, sweetie. Let me take care of you," you cooed.
"Yes, please," he politely answered, nestling among your mess of pillows and propping himself up against your headboard. He loved it when you took charge. He kept his eyes locked on yours as you placed yourself between his legs.
He'd been hard for the past hour, desperate for you to take it into your mouth, but you were still savoring every moment, and he secretly adored all the teasing. You drew a line from the base of his dick all the way up his length with your soft tongue, and it twitched in response.
You gently kissed his tip, slurping up the shiny, clear fluid that was slowly leaking out as you slowly stroked his dick. He let out a soft, pleasured sound as your tongue made contact with all his sensitive nerve endings, and you started delicately flicking it across his swollen, pink head.
"How's that?" You asked in a soft voice. "So good," he whined as you started combining the two techniques, sucking on it while your tongue got to work, fluttering around in the best-feeling places. Pretty noises poured from his lips as you took him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down slowly on his length and learning every vein with your tongue.
He smiled down at you and tenderly placed his hand on the back of your head, silently asking you to take more of him. You listened by sliding your lips all the way down his shaft until he was hitting the back of your throat. He gasped as you took it all so effortlessly. "How'd you learn to do that, ma'am?" He whimpered, peering down at you wide-eyed and breathing heavily as you chuckled, humming around the base.
You sped up your movements, sloppily drooling and making a mess all over his cock. "Please let me cum. Please," Chris moaned, his luscious voice spilling into the air. Despite how politely he asked, you took him out of your mouth long enough to give him a smirk and shake your head no.
"Please, please, please," his jagged breaths becoming whiny and needy. You ignored his begging and continued your pace, bringing him dangerously close to the edge before withdrawing all stimulation. He let out a few strangled moans as his cock twitched some more, begging to be sucked on again.
You loved how responsive he was and how his body language reacted to every subtle touch. You wrapped your lips around him again, and a stream of lustful noises flowed from him. You looked into his blue eyes that were silently pleading with you. You could see how desperate he was, which made you want to edge him even more.
"Please," he whispered again as if you didn't hear him the first half a dozen times he asked for you to let him finish. "You're going to have to be a good boy and wait," you teased him, removing your mouth again and shifting around on the bed. He responded with a subtle nod.
You began to straddle him, guiding his rod towards your entrance, and you let out a delighted hum as you lowered yourself down onto him. Chris' head gently fell back and tapped the headboard as you squelched around him.
"Oh, Chris. You're so big," you moaned. "So I've been told," Chris chuckled. He couldn't help how much that compliment stroked his ego. You started to ride him, your breasts bouncing in his face as he latched onto your nipples, tenderly sucking on each one. His hands wandered towards your ass, and he squeezed your soft flesh, whimpering against your chest.
"Good boy," you praised him as you ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his head. You leaned down and started sucking on a sensitive place on his neck, and he whined into your ear as he tried to hold on while you were actively working against him. "Please let me cum," he asked again patiently and politely with desire in his expression.
"Not yet, pretty boy," you cooed into the crook of his neck as you continued lightly sucking on it. Whimpers escaped his mouth as you picked up the pace, your strides becoming faster and rougher. He wasn't sure how much more he could take, but he tried to hold on to please you.
He was always able to hold the different perspectives of you in his mind, both the professional view he had of you and the sexual desire he felt toward you. He couldn't help but delight in the way the two versions of you merged in front of him. He'd always loved how bossy you were, but the way you were ordering him around in bed gave your bossy nature a whole new meaning to him, and he adored it.
He loved the way you bounced on him, your moans becoming louder and more urgent. He could feel you clenching around his cock, which made it even harder for him to fend off his long-awaited orgasm.
"Please, please, please," he begged some more, losing his composure. "Please let me cum, ma'am," he sweetly requested, his dick already beginning to throb inside of you. He wasn't exactly asking for your permission but more or less warning you that he couldn't hold off anymore.
"Yeah? You wanna cum?" You asked, peering into his bedroom eyes and examining his flushed, pink cheeks and the way he kept licking his lips. "More than anything, ma'am," he whimpered, his eyelids growing heavy and his mouth falling open.
"Only because you've been such a good boy," you commented, caressing his jawline with your thumb and moving your hand to his throat. You gripped his neck, lightly choking him which sent him over the edge.
A few strangled moans passed through his lips as his eyes rolled back and his head gently thumped against the headboard again. His climax hit him like a freight train, barreling through him and sending a jolt of pleasure through his whole body.
He shot his load up into you as you finished onto him, the room filling with both of your satisfied sounds. You involuntarily dug your nails into the flesh of his neck, intensifying how good it felt for him. You slumped forward, pulling him into a warm embrace as you throbbed around him.
"Chris, I've been wanting to do that forever," you breathlessly whispered into his ear. "Maybe I should make you jealous more often, huh? It really seems to get your attention," Chris smugly remarked, smirking at you. "Oh, sweetie. You don't have to try to get my attention. You just always have it."
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mcrdvcks · 2 days ago
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what are hands for?
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chapter summary: After an offhand comment from your father shakes your confidence, you find yourself spiraling into self-doubt.
word count: 2.4k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: i'm not even gonna lie, this is extremely self-indulgent. i've barely been home for a week and my dad's already called me fat once and it definitely won't be the last time
anyways, i basically wrote this for myself but i thought i'd share it because i know for some people, being home for the holidays is rough! and the only thing i need is for logan to tell me he loves me and everything would be perfect
warnings/tags: insecure!reader, reader has a brother, skipping meals, implied that reader has received rude comments from family before, reader describes herself as 5'7" and over 200 lbs one time (like i said, self-indulgent), curvy!reader, angst, fluff
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You have always had mixed feelings about going to your parents’ house for the holidays, or even during your breaks during college. You loved home, it was where you grew up so naturally you were supposed to love it.
But you also hated it. Hated the comments, the looks, the yelling—all of it.
And somehow here you were, standing in your parent’s quaint house, your younger brother and his girlfriend already in the dining room helping your mom with dinner while your dad greeted you and Logan.
"Hey, kiddo," your dad said, pulling you into a quick, half-hearted hug before turning to Logan with a small smile. "Logan. Good to see you again."
Logan gave a polite nod. "Good to see you too, sir."
Your dad’s gaze flicked between the two of you for a moment before gesturing toward the dining room. "Everyone’s in there. Why don’t you join them? Dinner’s almost ready."
Logan looked at you briefly, a silent check-in, before heading off. "I’ll go see if they need help," he murmured, squeezing your hand lightly as he passed.
The air shifted the second Logan stepped out of earshot. Your dad turned back to you, giving you a once-over that was a little too long for comfort.
"You’ve put on a little weight, haven’t you?" he asked, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just landed a verbal punch to your gut. "Must be all that mansion food."
Your chest tightened, heat creeping up your neck. You opened your mouth to respond—what, you weren’t sure—but he didn’t wait for an answer. He just patted your shoulder like it was nothing, muttered something about checking on the turkey, and walked off, leaving you standing there alone.
In the back of your mind, you knew you should’ve put on a different shirt, this one was just a tad bit too tight. But it was one of Logan’s favorite’s, so you didn’t pay too much attention to it.
You pulled on your blouse a few times, trying to get it to not stick to your stomach before walking into the dining room like you always did when you were younger, with a fake smile.
---
You huffed, yanking the seventh shirt over your head and tossing it onto the growing pile on the bed. Nothing looked right—nothing felt right. Every shirt clung too much, hung awkwardly, or just didn’t sit right. And with each outfit failure, the voice in your head grew louder, echoing your dad’s casual remark.
You tugged at the hem of your tank top, staring at your reflection in the mirror with narrowed eyes. “Stupid,” you muttered, turning to the side to inspect your profile. “It’s just a shirt. It’s fine.” But it didn’t feel fine.
After another long minute, you grabbed a loose hoodie from the closet and pulled it on, letting it drown you. It wasn’t what you’d planned to wear, but at least it hid everything you didn’t want to see.
You made your way downstairs to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before your class. On the counter were a box of donuts, and without thinking you grabbed the two you normally did in a napkin and made your way out.
But not before pausing at the doorway, a bite already taken out of one donut as you looked down at the food in your hand. You took another bite and threw both away, making your way to your classroom before the kids got there.
You got to the classroom a good twenty minutes early, dropping your bag onto the desk with a sigh. The hoodie you’d thrown on still felt too heavy, too obvious, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. The two bites of the donut you’d managed to eat sat like a stone in your stomach.
You busied yourself setting up for the day, pulling worksheets out of your bag and lining them up on the desk. It wasn’t much, but focusing on something, anything, kept your mind from wandering too far down the spiral. The kids would be filing in soon, their chatter filling the space, and that would make it easier. It always did.
But for now, the silence was suffocating.
There was a soft knock on the doorframe, and you looked up, expecting one of the students. Instead, it was Ororo. She leaned casually against the frame, a warm, curious smile on her face.
“Morning, Y/N,” she greeted, stepping into the room. “You’re here early. Everything okay?”
You forced a smile, nodding as you shuffled a few papers around unnecessarily. “Yeah, just… wanted to get a head start. You know how Mondays are.”
Ororo tilted her head, clearly unconvinced but kind enough not to push. “If you say so,” she said, her tone light but probing. Her gaze swept over you, lingering for just a second on the oversized hoodie before she caught herself. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do. Thanks, ‘Ro.” You gave her another tight-lipped smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt.
She hesitated for a beat before nodding and stepping back into the hallway. As soon as she was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.
The classroom slowly came to life as the students trickled in, their energy filling the room and pushing your thoughts to the background. By the time the lesson was underway, you were almost able to pretend nothing was wrong. Almost.
It wasn’t until later that day, during lunch, that it all came rushing back. The teachers’ lounge was unusually crowded, laughter and conversations bouncing off the walls. You slipped in quietly, grabbing a bottle of water and a granola bar from the counter before finding a corner to sit in.
From across the room, Logan caught your eye. He was leaning back in one of the chairs, arms crossed, but the second he saw you, his expression softened. He gave you a small nod—his way of checking in. You nodded back, offering a faint smile.
You didn’t miss the way his brow furrowed slightly, though, or the way his gaze lingered for just a moment too long before he turned back to his conversation with Scott. It wasn’t like Logan to hover or push, but you knew he noticed things. And he never let them go.
---
After classes you went into the kitchen to put your mug in the sink from hours ago. Out of habit, you grabbed a few cookies Ororo had made yesterday before stopping yourself.
You stared at the cookies in your hand, your frown deepening as your dad’s words replayed in your mind like a broken record. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you felt like throwing the cookies straight into the trash.
“What’d those cookies ever do to you, darlin’?” Logan’s voice startled you from your thoughts. You turned to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze wasn’t accusing, just… observant.
You hesitated, gripping the cookies tighter. “Nothing,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just… wasn’t really hungry.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, pushing off the doorframe to step into the kitchen. “Didn’t seem like you were thinkin’ about that a second ago,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “Something on your mind?”
You shook your head quickly, putting the cookies back on the plate. “Nope. Just tired. Long day.”
He didn’t look convinced. Logan had a way of reading you like an open book, and you hated it sometimes. Hated how hard it was to hide from him, even when you wanted to.
“Darlin’…” His voice was softer now, his hand reaching out to brush yours. “What’s goin’ on?”
You sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. “It’s nothing, Logan. Seriously.”
He stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “Y/N, you know I don’t buy that. You’ve been off since we got back from your folks’ place.” His voice was low, steady. “Talk to me.”
You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. The last thing you wanted was to unload all this on him. But the look in his eyes—genuine, steady, patient—made it impossible to deflect.
“It’s just… something my dad said,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
Logan’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “What’d he say?”
“It’s not a big deal—”
“Y/N.” His tone was firm, but not unkind. “What’d he say?”
You exhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze. “He… made a comment about my weight,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up. “Said I’ve been eating too much mansion food.”
Logan’s expression darkened, his brows knitting together. “He said that?” His voice was low, dangerous. You nodded, still not looking at him. “That’s bullshit,” he muttered, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
“It’s not—he didn’t mean it like that,” you tried to defend weakly, though you weren���t sure why. “It’s just how he is. And, it’s not like he’s wrong either, I could lose some weight. I’m 5’7” and over 200 pounds, and sometimes my old pants don’t even go over my thighs or hips. And—”
Logan held up a hand, cutting you off gently but firmly. “Alright, stop. Just stop.” His voice was low, steady, but there was a protective edge to it. “First off, I don’t give a damn what your old pants fit like. And second, your dad? He’s got no right to talk to you like that. None.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but Logan stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Nope. Not hearin’ it, Y/N. You’re sittin’ here pickin’ yourself apart ‘cause of some stupid thing he said, and that’s not fair. Not to you.”
“But he’s not wrong,” you muttered, looking away. “I mean, look at me. I’m—”
“Perfect,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re perfect. And I don’t wanna hear you say otherwise.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re just saying that.”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who just says things?” Logan shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, I’m the last person to sugarcoat anything.”
You hesitated, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. Logan sighed, stepping closer and resting his hands lightly on your hips. “Y/N, you’re strong. You’re smart. And yeah, you’ve got curves—and I happen to like ‘em. A lot.”
Your face heated at his words, but Logan wasn’t done. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You think I’d be standin’ here, chasin’ after you, if I didn’t think you were incredible? Come on now.”
“I’m not fishing for compliments, Logan,” you said quietly, still not quite meeting his eyes.
“I know you’re not,” he replied. “But I’m givin’ ‘em anyway, ‘cause you need to hear it. And because it’s the damn truth.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, despite yourself. Logan grinned, clearly pleased to have gotten a reaction out of you. “There’s that smile,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Missed that.”
The knot in your chest loosened just a bit, and you let out a shaky sigh. “Thanks, Logan,” you murmured. “I just… I don’t feel like myself sometimes, you know?”
“I get it,” Logan said, his voice softer now. “We all got our crap to deal with. But you don’t gotta deal with it alone. Not when I’m here.”
You gave him a small nod, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. Logan’s smirk returned, and his hands slid from your hips to the curve of your thighs, his fingers grazing lightly. “Besides,” he said, his tone turning teasing, “you know what these thighs are for, right?”
You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
He grinned, his hands squeezing gently before lifting you up. “For my hands. Nothin’ else they need to do, far as I’m concerned.”
You yelped in surprise, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Logan! Put me down!”
“Nope,” he said, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Not until you stop talkin’ nonsense about yourself.”
You glared at him, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed your indignation. “I’m serious, Logan. I’m not exactly lightweight—”
“Good thing I’m not exactly weak,” he interrupted smoothly, his grin widening. “You think a couple extra pounds are gonna make me break a sweat? Sweetheart, I’ve fought Sentinels and lived to tell the tale. Trust me, I got this.”
You groaned, your hands tightening on his shoulders as he adjusted his grip, holding you securely. “This is ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous is you thinkin’ you’re anything less than perfect,” Logan countered, his tone softening just a bit. “Now, you gonna stop beatin’ yourself up, or am I gonna have to carry you around all day until you do?”
“Logan, we’re in the kitchen,” you hissed, glancing toward the doorway. “What if someone walks in?”
“Let ‘em,” he said with a shrug. “Not like they don’t already know you’re my girl.” He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “Besides, anyone’s got a problem with me lovin’ on you? They can take it up with me.”
You huffed, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”
“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he teased, setting you down gently but keeping his hands on your hips. “Now, what do you say we grab those cookies and actually enjoy ‘em? ‘Ro made ‘em for us, after all.”
Your gaze flicked to the plate of cookies, and for a moment, doubt crept back in. But Logan’s steady hands on your hips and the unwavering warmth in his eyes grounded you. “Okay,” you said softly. “Let’s eat the cookies.”
“That’s my girl,” Logan said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching for the plate. He handed you one, grabbing one for himself, and took a big bite, chewing with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Damn, these are good. Think she’d notice if we finished the whole plate?”
You laughed, the sound lighter than it had felt all day. “Pretty sure she’d kill us.”
“Worth it,” he said with a smirk, taking another bite.
You rolled your eyes but bit into your cookie, letting the sweetness melt on your tongue. For the first time in what felt like days, the weight on your chest eased just a little.
And when Logan leaned in to steal a crumb from the corner of your mouth, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to protest.
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missdynamighttt · 1 day ago
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↳ ❝ THERE'S NO ONE LIKE YOU, SWEETS. ❞
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you make what feels like the worst decision of your life—getting into a hot tub with your fake boyfriend, katsuki bakugou.
starring: fake boyfriend! katsuki bakugou x oblivious! reader ⍣ ೋ
disclaimers!: fake established relationship, prefers ass, humping/ grinding, a little degradation, fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), sexual stuff in water
note: pro hero! katsuki drabble, usage of "woman", "sweets" "baby", "slut", fem reader, fake relationship trope, inspired by to all the boys ive loved before hot tub/ jacuzzi scene. I KNOW I HAVE A POLL, I PROMISE ILL GET TO THAT, JUST NEEDED TO GET THIS OFF OF MY CHEST💜💜
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╰┈➤ ❝ [this is so stupid...] ❞ you mumble, walking down the hallway to the pool area, your arms crossed as the cold winter breeze hits your skin.
somehow, kirishima talked you into confronting your 'boyfriend', katsuki bakugou, after he started ignoring you in the class 1A ski-trip/christmas party this year.
"c'mon, girl, hes probably waiting for you in the hot tub 'nyway. get in there, and get him!"
it was only supposed to be a fake arrangement between you two. to be honest, you're not even sure why hes mad. but he was.
the hand-holding, hugs and kisses started to feel too real, the closeness felt too intimate. it was all getting in your head so you distanced yourself from him, sitting next to ochako in the bus instead of katsuki.
katsuki needed to get his ranks up in the charts and you needed publicity. that was all there was to it. supposed to be, anyway.
you reach the pool area and thats when you see him. katsuki bakugo. in the hot tub. shirtless. and in swimming trunks. he's lounging with his eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed, letting the heat and jets of the tub ease his muscles.
you catch your bottom lip between your teeth. you draw closer to the hot tub, perching yourself on the ledge across from katsuki, not getting in the water because you had a night gown on. for now.
though his eyes are closed, a slight shift in his demeanor reveals that he's aware of your presence. even in his attempt to maintain a façade of calm, the subtle tension in his shoulders and the tightening of his jaw betray his awareness of you.
"katsuki?" you tilt your head, trying to get his attention.
when he doesn't respond, you scoff, crossing your arms.
"wow, katsuki, real mature."
his eyebrow twitches at the comment on his maturity, his eyes flutter open. he looks at you with an unimpressed stare, his expression a mix of annoyance and... something else.
"oh, because you're a real shinin' example of maturity," he retorts, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
you frown at him. "seriously, why are you mad at me? and don't go yappin' about how you're not mad, i can tell."
"why do you think?" he grumbles, unable to meet your eyes as his cheeks tinged pink.
"...you've been hangin' around with round cheeks all fuckin' day."
that was all he was mad about? is he.. no. he couldn't be jealous. he had no reason to.
"that... that shouldn't matter."
"well, it does matter, goddamn it," he mutters angrily as his scowl deepens, his jaw clenching in frustration.
"you don't get it, do you? you're my girlfriend, you were supposed to sit with me."
"fake girlfriend-"
"i don't give a flyin' fuck. you're still my girlfriend, woman, fake or not. i expected you to sit with me. and instead, what do i see? you hangin' out with fuckin..."
he lets out an exasperated sigh, raking a hand through his wet hair. he looks like he's trying to find the right words to express his feelings without coming across as too jealous or vulnerable.
"fuck. fuck, i'm... i'm not tryna control you, okay? but it bugs the shit out of me. it bugs me that you were hanging with round face. it bugs me that you sat next to her instead of me."
katsuki's gaze softens at your quiet, conflicted expression. he sighs again, his eyes briefly darting away from you before he continues.
"i... i even brought your damn favorite snacks in case you got hungry," he mutters, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "i thought, we could have sat together and, you know..."
you look up at him, a hint of surprise widening your eyes. you contemplate how to continue, trying to lighten the mood with a soft smile. "do you... still have some left over?"
katsuki scoffs at the attempt to change the mood, but can't help the brief spark of amusement that flickers in his eyes.
"no, obviously," he replies with a roll of his eyes. "i ate some and gave kirishima the rest after you decided to ditch me."
"rude."
"damn right, it was rude. tch, ditchin' me like that."
you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head, looking at him with a soft gaze. "i'm.. i'm sorry i didn't sit next to you."
katsuki's ears turned slightly pink as he hears your apology. he glances at you hesitantly before looking away again, trying to maintain his aloof demeanor.
"yeah, well, apology accepted, i guess," he mutters, his voice lacking its usual sharpness.
you nod, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. after a brief moment of silence, you gather your courage and shed your nightgown, revealing your bare skin as you slowly step into the warm embrace of the hot tub.
katsuki's eyes widen as you stripped, his heart rate speeding up at the sight of you in just a pair of black bra and panties. his eyes roam over your body greedily, taking in every curve and contour.
he clears his throat, his gaze is fixed on your figure as you step into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping you. he tries to keep his thoughts in check, but the sight of you like this, almost naked, is making it incredibly hard (like his dick).
"damn..." he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "what are you doing to me, sweets?"
you look at him with eyebrows raised, a soft smile formed on your lips. "hm?"
he takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. the water laps around you two, creating a sense of intimacy, and it only adds to the tension.
"seriously, do you have to look like that right now?"
"like what?"
"like... that," his voice is hoarse, gesturing vaguely at your form. "like you're tryna drive me crazy."
katsuki reaches out, his hand hovering just above your torso before finally making contact, his fingers gently carressing the curve of your waist. his hand felt so warm, almost competing with the heat in his eyes now mixed with his raw desire for you.
"damn it, woman. you're killin' me here..."
"can i apologize for that too?"
"i'll forgive you... under one condition," he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. his hand slowly roams over your bare skin, exploring your body with a newfound confidence.
he pulls you closer, the water sloshing around you as he guides you onto his lap. his arms encircle your waist firmly, every contour and dip of your bodies fitting perfectly against each other. the corners of his mouth tug to a grin."sit here for me."
your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a rush of heat across your cheeks. you could feel his hot, raging boner, pressing up against your cunt through the thin, pathetic fabric you call panties.
a cheeky grin spreads across your face. "katsuki, is that...?"
he groans, his voice low and gruff with frustrated desire. "just shut the fuck up, sweets."
his hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you nearer, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, hungry kiss. his tongue dances with yours, greedy and demanding.
the kiss was intense, filled with pent-up longing and need and so much words both of you couldn't say.
he keeps you trapped against his body with his arms in the hot tub, his touch both tender and possessive.
"such a nice fuckin' ass.." he whispers, groping and massaging your doughy ass before pulling you back in for a deeper kiss.
your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair as you grind on his hard-on, a little embarassed as you feel your panties dampen more from the water and your slick but can't help but want him. need him.
"fuck," he groans, feeling his cock get so painfully hard just from you humping him. "you little.."
your breath hitches when you felt his hand slide down your inner thigh, tugging the pathetic g-string to the side. he enters a finger inside of you, seperating your folds, feeling your warm pussy and your wet slick in the midst of the water. "k-katsuki-"
"aww, this all for me, sweets?" he coos, watching you whimper as he rubs your aching clit.
you pout as you grind against his hand, desperate for friction. your teeth sink into your lip as he put a second finger, your eyes glistening with a mixture of desire and greed. "so what if it is..?"
"that fucking eager for me, huh?" he chuckles darkly, his fingers enveloped by the warmth of your pussy as he curls them inside of you. "gonna take it all for me, yeah?"
you nodded, clinging onto him like a lifeline, whimpering and mewling choked versions of his name. "fuck, fuck.. kat- katsu.. katsuki..."
katsuki groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his hand your hips grip you tighter, pulling you closer, while curling his thick digits against your sensitive spots, the sound of your lewd noises music to his ears.
"see my fingers fuckin' you, baby?" he mutters, his lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your tender skin. "only i can make your pretty pussy feel this good, yeah?"
"mhm," you manage. despite the embarrassment, you can't help but give in to the heat building between you.
his eyes lock onto yours, his voice sultry and mean. "you know, you're such a fuckin' slut. lettin' me finger you like this where anyone can see us."
a loud moan escapes your lips as your pussy clenches around his fingers at the name. you couldn't help it. fuck, he was so, so mean. and you fucking loved it.
a cocky grin spreads across his face, letting out a low chuckle. "oh? you like it when i call you a slut?" he taunts, bringing a grin to his face at your reaction. "can't believe you're into that shit, sweets."
"it's your fault- fuck.."
"oh? blamin' me now?" he taunts, a cocky expression on his face. "thought you were more.. mature than that."
katsuki flaps his fingers faster inside of you, abandoning the slow, careful pace of curling he did earlier. your slick and the hot tub water moistens his fingers, yet you can still smell the faint hit of your cunt.
"katsukiii! fuck, fuck, fuck. too much, too much..."
"just look at you, sweets. takin' my fingers like a champ, such a good fuckin' girl," he coos, his filthy praises making your pussy clench around his fingers.
"bet you wanted this as much as i did, did you?"
"n-no-"
"bullshit. if you don't, tell me to stop right now."
"sh-shit, no.. don't stop, please.. please, i need you.."
"that's what i thought," his grin widens, his hand that had been resting on your hip moves lower, tapping your leg gently. "lift your hips up for me."
with a nod, you comply, the water rippling around you as it drips out of your legs, katsuki finally seeing your sweet little cunt without the transluscent filter of the water. his grip on your thigh tightens slightly, letting out a shaky exhale as he rubs your clit.
"you close, sweets?" he glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours, feeling you nod before he leans in for a long, lingering kiss.
"cum on my face, 'kay?" he utters softly after pulling away, leaning down on your sweet cunt before lapping his tongue away at your aching slit while still pumping his fingers full of you.
his tongue felt so good. he felt so good, it hurts. all you could smell was the intoxicating scent of your cunt and katsuki's saliva sloshed together.
"katsuki..." you can't help but let out a lewd mewl, whimpering as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body.
"there's no one like you, sweets," katsuki groans into your pussy, the loud sounds he was making as he ate you out while he fucked his fingers into you was just so lewd. when it felt so good. when anyone could catch you doing this. "cum on my face, baby, c'mon.."
you shudder from the pleasure from his touch as you feel your release, chest heaving up and down as you catch your breath. though, his tongue kept flicking at your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of you as you ride your high.
your post-nut clarity kicks in. fuck, you just.. let katsuki bakugo, your fake boyfriend, not only finger you but you let him eat you out. it doesn't matter you were into him. he was still your fake boyfriend.
and not just anywhere, no. but in the damn hot tub. where anyone could've seen you. the worst part? you enjoyed it to your core.
before you can think loudly again, you feel his lips brush gently against your cheek. you turn to look at him, a little surprised at the sudden show of tenderness after the heated moment as your eyes meet. you take in the disheveled sight of him, his hair damp and wet as he catches his breath, your mind still trying to catch up to the events of tonight.
"sweets... my room. now. please."
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should i do part 2 guys lmaolmao hope you enjoyed 💜💜
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wandascosmic · 1 day ago
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just maybe (9)
wanda maximoff x fem!reader
part nine of 'you belong with me' series
summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office
word count: 3193
tags: swearing, playful mention of sex, an office fire drill, best friends to lovers, idiots already in love to lovers, reader having an insane amount of self-control as always, jealousy jealousy from our favorite sokovian
taglist: @reginassweetheart @rroyale-109 @marvel-posts
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8
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“Shield Industries, this is Wanda,” Wanda introduces as she answers the receptionist's phone. Upon hearing the voice, Wanda furrows her brows. “Sure, can I ask who’s calling?” The person responds with their name. “Just a second.” Wanda turns to hit a button on the phone. 
Suddenly, your phone begins to ring. “Y/N L/N,” you state, picking up the call. You laugh, hearing that it was your current almost girlfriend. “What, how did you get this number?” You mock with a grin. “Stalker,” you shake your head. 
Wanda’s not sure how she feels as she watches the happy expression on your face from her desk. You seem content with Valkyrie, but something about her just made Wanda feel uneasy. She’s come to the conclusion that she’s probably just protective of you, since you’ve always been her best friend, and since knowing you she had never really seen you in any serious relationships. She simply cared for you, a lot. 
“So we’re still on for lunch?” you ask Valkyrie. “Are you meeting me here? Okay. Great. See you later. Bye,” you finish with a smile, hanging up. 
You were about to get back to work when Wanda calls out to you from across the room. “Hey,” she says, causing you to turn your head towards her, and gives you a small smile. “You can just give her your extension.” 
“Sure,” you nod, before returning to the papers on your desk. 
Wanda frowns. 
***
There was a deafening loud sound reverberating through the entire office. The smoke detector, of course. 
You sigh. You just wanted to get through the day uninterrupted, not including the lunch you had planned with Valkyrie. And, of course, spending as much time as you could with Wanda. Just one normal day, please.
And right on time, Sam begins to shout. “Okay, people, this is not at test! Everybody make your way to the exits!” He calls out. 
“Do not panic!” Tony yells alongside him. “Everyone, just get up from your desks, arms at your side!” 
“This is not a drill, move quickly, everyone, this is a paper company, come on!” Sam screams at the top of his lungs, rather dramatically. If you weren’t at a risk for being set on fire, you would’ve had a witty sarcastic remark ready on the tip of your tongue for him. “This whole place is a tinder box, it’s ready to blow!” 
You’re making your way out the exits, when suddenly Wanda immediately runs towards you and meets the rhythm of your stride, holding your hand. 
You give her a confused look. “Nat says we should have safety partners,” she responds with a shrug. 
“I didn’t hear that–” you begin to say.
“Clear out, stat!” Sam interrupts, sprinting past the two of you and clearly out of breath after screaming out fire safety laws for the past 10 minutes. 
Forgetting your previous statement, you turn to the brunette beside you once you’ve both made it safely to the parking lot outside. “Please tell me we can prank Sam after this,” you tell Wanda, bringing out a huge grin on her face.
“Oh, for sure,” she responds immediately. “In fact, I’m drafting up about 5 plans right now in my mind.” 
You laugh. “Of course you are, Maximoff.” Wanda squeezes your hand in return. 
***
“Okay, you know what?” you call out to the people around you. It had been ten minutes, and you were thoroughly bored of standing around. “I think Wanda and I are gonna set an agenda around here.” 
Wanda nods with a grin. 
Clapping your hands together lightly, you call towards the rest of the office staff. “Can everybody gather up, please? Important announcement.” You say. “I think this is a perfect opportunity for all of us to participate in some really intense,” you pause, “psychologically revealing conversations.” 
You give Wanda a look to finish the rest of your announcement. “So,” she turns to face the crowd. “We’re gonna be playing Desert Island…” 
“”Who Would You Do?” you continue, making Wanda snicker. 
“And, “Would You Rather?”” Wanda finishes. 
“Would You Rather,” you agree. 
You’re about to start the first game, when suddenly, the fire trucks pull in and the firefighters run through the office crowd to get into the building. 
“What’s up, guys, long time no see,” you greet slightly, making Wanda smack you playfully on the arm. “What?” you laugh. 
She rolls her eyes in response. “You’re a dork.” 
You stick your tongue out at her in return, and turn back to the crowd once all the firefighters have made their way through. 
“Okay, so, first, three books on a desert island,” you look around, trying to pick the first person to go. “Nat,” you point. 
Nat squints her eyes suspiciously at the interaction in front of her first, before answering. “The Hunger Games, and a Russian dictionary, to make sure I’m not out of practice.” 
“Okay, you have one more book though,” you say. 
“Rather not,” Nat responds. 
“Okay,” you say with a shrug, and turning towards your best friend. “Wanda, next person?” 
Wanda nods, looking around to pick the right person. “Peter!” she says. 
“Oh,” Peter responds shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, Death by Black Hole, Nonlinear Dynamics and Chaos, and one of the scientific journals I read a while ago but I can’t remember the name.” 
“Alright, that’s pretty cool,” you say. 
“No, it’s not,” Sam retorts immediately. “If he burned them, he would only be warm for like seven seconds. Question, is there firewood on the island?” 
“I guess,” you shrug. 
Sam scoffs. “Then I would bring an axe. No books.”
“That’s actually pretty practical, Mr. Sam,” Peter squeaks out. 
“Peter, you don’t need to agree with the guy,” you reassure. “I never do.” 
Peter nods, shifting his weight on his feet instead. 
You look at Sam once more. “You can’t bring an axe, Sam. Just books.” 
Sam narrows his eyes at you. “Fine, then. Physician’s Desk Reference.”
“Nice. Smart.” 
But unfortunately, Sam continues. “But hollowed out. Inside, waterproof matches, iodine tablets.” Wanda turns to you with an expression that tells you she’s trying not to laugh. You roll your eyes playfully in response. “Beet seeds, protein bars, NASA blanket, and, in case I get bored, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. No, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.” Wanda finally can’t help herself and lets out a small snicker. “Question, did my shoes come off in the plane crash?”
***
Unfortunately, the books don’t last very long since it appears that people don’t read too much in the Shield Industries office. However, you’re definitely remembering Wanda’s answer for her next birthday. 
“Okay, DVDs, five movies, what would you bring?” you ask the crowd. 
Bruce immediately raises his hand. 
“Yes, Bruce?” 
Bruce starts naming all of his guilty pleasure movies, and you and Wanda look at each other while struggling not to laugh. 
“Wow,” you whisper quietly to her as Bruce continues naming his choices. 
“Well, I kind of like–” Wanda whispers one of the movies to you through her quiet giggles. 
“Wanda, you’re misinterpreting this,” you tease gently. “These are desert island movies, you know? Not guilty pleasure movies. These are the movies you’re gonna be watching for the rest of your life! Forever!” 
“I take it back,” Wanda grins, facing you. 
“Unforgivable,” you shake your head. 
“I take it back!” Wanda wraps her arms around yours. 
***
“Wanda,” you turn to the brunette so she’s facing your front. “Your turn, five movies, go ahead.” 
Wanda groans, looking at you with a hopeful expression on her face. “Does it have to be movies? What about sitcoms?” she asks excitedly. 
You hum thoughtfully. “What do you guys think?” you turn to the rest of the staff.
“To be fair, I don’t think Maximoff has seen a single movie in her life, so for her, it should be allowed,” Nat says. 
“Hey!” Wanda says, slightly offended. “I’ll have you know, when I first came here, Y/N took me to see a bunch of your classic American movies.” 
“Oh, did she now?” Nat responds back sarcastically. 
“Okay, come on, guys,” you say past the slight blush in your cheeks. “No need to be hostile. Wanda, go ahead and name your top sitcoms you’d bring to the island.” 
Wanda immediately forgets about the interaction with Nat and starts naming her favorite shows. “Okay. The Dick Van Dyke Show, of course, I Love Lucy, Malcolm in the Middle, Bewitched, Family Ties…Wait, can I bring one more? I love–” 
“Sorry, Maximoff,” you cut off with a grin, causing her to frown. “Five per person, max.” 
“But-” she tries.
You shake your head. “Play by the rules, Wanda. Play by the rules.”
“I’m gonna get you back,” she says, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms tightly. 
“Don’t doubt it,” you respond cheekily. “But, I’ll get you a donut later to make up for it. How about that?” 
Wanda nods, satisfied with your answer and moves to stand next to you once more. 
***
“All right, moving on to the main event, Who Would You Do?” you announce.
“Present company excluded?” Bucky asks. 
“Um, no,” you shake your head. “Not necessarily.” 
Suddenly, a chorus of “Wanda” is heard from the entire crowd, and you look at the recipient seeing how uncomfortable she looks. 
“Okay, um, how about I finish explaining the rules first? Let me explain first–” you try to ease Wanda’s embarrassment, but suddenly, you’re interrupted by something you could have never anticipated. 
Well, who could ever anticipate Sam’s…colorful personality. 
“Everybody Hurts” by REM has begun to blast from Sam’s car, and you look to see him slouching completely lifeless in his driver’s seat.
You try your best to continue past the music. “Yeah, so we’ll get right to— you know what? I’ll be right back. Steve, can you take over for me? Thanks.” 
You run off in the direction of Sam’s car, ready to confront him with Wanda trailing beside you. 
“Sam?” You ask through the open window. Sam simply turns up the music in response. “Sam! Come on, Sam, use words.” 
Sam turns off the music aggressively. “Why didn’t I go to business school?” he asks angrily. 
You furrow your brows in confusion. “Who goes to business school?” you ask, looking over at Wanda who shrugs at you in response. 
“The intern,” Sam says venomously. 
“Peter? He does?” 
“Yeah,” Sam responds scornfully. “It’s all him and Tony talk about now. Tony saw a stupid yellow business school book in his car, swiped him from your game, and now Tony’s completely obsessed with him.” 
Wanda looks at you before speaking, “you know, I bet Peter thinks to himself, “I wish I were a volunteer sheriff on the weekend.”” 
You bite your lip to hold back your laugh. 
“He doesn’t even know that I do that,” Sam rolls his eyes. 
“You should tell him,” Wanda says. 
“Oh, yeah, Wanda. Right. That’s gonna help things, just talk it out,” he scoffs. “I hope the war goes on forever and Peter gets drafted.” 
“Sam,” Wanda states gently.
“What?” you mouth to her through a smile.
She shakes her head at you with an equally amused grin. 
Sam puts his head into his hands. “Fine, I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t— just part of me meant it, okay? Besides, he’d end up being a hero, anyway.” 
You duck your head slightly to hold in the laugh that’s dying to come out. Wanda starts to smile too, looking away slightly to prevent being obvious. 
“You know what you should do,” you say past your grin, an equally amused expression on Wanda’s face. “You should quit.” You cover your mouth with the top of your fist slightly to hide your smile. “And then,” you turn to face Wanda, “that would stick it to both of them.” 
Wanda bites her lip tightly, trying her best to prevent from bursting out into laughter alongside you.
“No, Y/N, I’m not gonna quit,” Sam says completely monotone. “Then Peter wins.” 
“Yeah, you’re right,” you agree, facing Wanda who’s eyes are sparkling with amusement.
Sam puts his hand on top of both yours and Wanda’s, giving you both a grateful expression. “Thanks, you guys. I just need some alone time.” 
“Okay,” Wanda says softly, slowly backing away from the car. 
“Everybody Hurts” starts blasting again from the speakers, and Sam rolls up the window, slouching once more. 
You and Wanda slowly walk back to the group together, laughing loudly together as you finally release the pent-up hysterics you had both been trying to hold back. 
“God, he makes it so easy,” you exclaim. 
“I know,” Wanda grins. “But, we’re definitely still pranking him! I’m so looking forward to it, I have so many ideas I need to share with you. But, you know, after he gets over his breakup with Tony,” she starts giggling again. 
“I can’t wait, Maximoff,” you start snickering loudly alongside her once more.
But suddenly, your moment is cut short, as the source of your unhappiness makes its way in front of you two, and you both stop laughing slightly. 
“Hey, guys, what’s going on?” Vision asks, immediately slinging his heavy arm around Wanda’s shoulders.
“Nothing much,” you respond, shrugging as you put your hands in your pockets, feeling a bit out of place. 
“Hi, Vis,” Wanda says with a smile. 
“Can I hang with you guys for a bit?” Vision asks you both. “The warehouse guys can really be jackasses sometimes, you know?” 
You included, you think to yourself. 
But if he makes Wanda happy, then you’re happy.
***
Much to your secret dismay, you and Wanda have joined the group once more, along with her fiancé. 
“Come on, guys, you know the rules of the game, it’s called “Who Would You Do?”” Steve says in a bit of a frustrated tone. 
“Oh!” Tony claps his hands together. “Awesome, I play this game with my friends all the time. Where are we?” 
“Um–” Steve says. 
“Vision!” Tony points to the new company. “Who would you do?” 
“Oh, I got it!” Vision responds, and Wanda smiles lightly to herself. “What’s the name of that girl who’s always wearing black and has a huge bitch face? The red head?” 
Wanda’s face falls.
“My name’s Natasha,” Nat responds curtly, crossing her arms. 
Vision leans down to face Nat. “Hey, Natasha! I’m Vision, nice to meet you.” 
“You’re a dick,” Nat says simply, immediately leaving and making her way to her car.
Wanda looks down at her feet, feeling uncomfortable. 
“Hey?” you whisper to Wanda. 
Wanda hums in response. 
“Look at Sam,” you tell her, pointing to the figure in the red car, now going back and forth between banging his forehead onto his steering wheel, occasionally letting out honks, and banging his head agains the roof of his car. 
Wanda lets out a laugh, bringing her hand to her mouth in shock. She turns to look at you. “He’s gonna inflict brain damage or something.”
“Well, then he’ll have opened up a whole new world of pranks for us,” you shrug. 
Wanda grins, her spirits lifted from before. 
“Y/N!” Tony calls out. “You’re next. Who would you do?” 
“Um,” you pause. “Steve, hands down. You know, he’s got that cuddly thing going on, and because he’s prehistoric we could just watch bowling after.” 
The group laughs at your joke, Wanda included. 
***
The people playing the games had slightly splintered since Sam had run out of his car in an effort to find Tony’s phone, inside the burning office building, and in his words, simply to make him happy. A couple people got bored, and a few others decided to wait by the door of the building just to make sure Sam got out safely. 
Wanda was surrounded by a few of the female staff, who had decided to continue the game. 
“Definitely Y/N,” a bunch of them said simultaneously. “She’s really cute, and funny.” 
Wanda crossed her arms tightly across her body. 
“What about you, Wanda?” Jean asked. 
“Um,” Wanda looks around. “Probably Steve, too. For the same reasons as Y/N. He seems really nice.”
You’re on a phone call with Valkyrie, walking around the parking lot aimlessly. “Hey, where are you? Oh, good. Yeah, we’re just here, we’re playing Desert Island, five movies.” 
***
Sam had finally reconciled with Tony, after finding out the culprit of the fire, was unfortunately Peter’s cheese quesadilla. The boy looked horrified, and you tried to give him a reassuring look in an unfortunate situation. 
Suddenly, you were met with the sight of a silver car pulling into the parking lot, seeing it was Valkyrie through the windows. 
You walked up with a smile as she parked, rolling down the window to strike up a conversation. 
“Hey,” you greeted, smiling as you leant down to talk to her, her immediately grabbing your arm flirtatiously. “How are you?” 
“I’m good,” she answered, planting a kiss on your cheek. “It’s good to see you.” 
“It’s good to see you too,” you responded, smiling. 
“I’m hungry,” she says, referring to your lunch plans. 
“You know, I am too,” you agree. 
“Oh!” Valkyrie realizes, stepping out of the car. “I have been thinking, the whole way over, and I have my answers,” she shuts the door to the car. 
“What answers?” you ask. 
“For the desert island,” she says, leaning back against the car door. 
“Oh, right!” you say excitedly. “Come on.” You grab her hand and lead her over to the rest of the staff. 
“Ladies and gentlemen, gather ‘round, we have one more participant,” you announce. “Be polite,” you say, before turning to Valkyrie. “Desert island, five movies, go.” 
“Okay,” Valkyrie smirks. “First, Legally Blonde.” 
And suddenly, you’re met with the sound of Wanda’s laughter, as that was the guilty pleasure movie Wanda had told Y/N she liked when Bruce had announced it, only for you to tease her in response. 
Unfortunately, after Valkyrie has announced her movies, the crowd had mostly dissipated, and you turn to her apologetically. “Sorry, there was a bigger crowd last time, but you know, great movies,” you say, scratching the back of your neck slightly. 
“Don’t worry,” Valkyrie says, grabbing your arm and running her hand up and down your sleeve. “Wanna just go to lunch?” 
“Sure,” you agree. “Where are we going?” 
“I’m in the mood for Thai, does that work?” Valkyrie responds, getting into the driver’s seat. 
“Yeah, for sure,” you say, closing the door for her before making your way to the passenger’s seat. 
And Wanda narrows her eyes, ‘cause she knows you absolutely hate Thai food. 
Scoffing, she turns back to Vision, and grabs him by the collar before firmly connecting their lips.
You frown at the sight in front of you, and turn your head away.
“You okay?” Valkyrie asks, noticing your expression as you close the car door at your side. 
“Hm?” you respond. “Oh, oh, yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry.” You reassure, giving her a small smile past the ache in your heart. 
“Okay,” Valkyrie agrees, giving you a small kiss on your cheek before driving off. 
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0omillo0 · 2 days ago
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Your fics are so good literally I check this place every day. I would mainline skz angst fics if I could. Angst/hurt/comfort PLEASE. Hyunjin one where reader was in an abusive relationship in the past and they get into an argument that was really miscommunication and Hyunjin like, doesn’t raise his fists but like turns around fast or something and spooks reader and they run off, no phone no keys no nothing. Pure flight mode.
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Hyunjin x reader ; angst -> comfort
warnings: abusive ex, mention of fighting
a/n: I’ve FINALLY finished school I’m so tired, but I’m happy I can write all your requests now! (thank you xoxo). also thank you for requesting this! It’s the same problem I have so it was comforting writing this
It wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault.
You kept telling yourself that, repeating it silently, like a mantra, as the tension between you both began to rise. The words in your head sounded steady, but your body didn’t believe them. The weight pressing on your chest grew heavier with each exchanged word, with every flicker of frustration in his voice.
Hyunjin was nothing like him.
But no matter how hard you tried, the past didn’t stay buried.
Your ex had turned arguments into weapons. He had wielded raised voices like shackles, holding you captive. Apologies had come like clockwork after the damage was done, hollow promises that nothing would change. It had taken years to leave—years to find your way out of the cycle. And when you met Hyunjin, with his kind heart and gentle soul, you’d believed healing was possible.
You wanted so desperately to believe it.
The argument started over something small, something so inconsequential you barely remembered how it had begun. You’d mentioned the groceries—how there were none left at home—and he had bristled.
“I can’t do everything, Y/N,” he said sharply, barely glancing up from where he stood at the counter, his voice carrying an edge that made you pause.
It took a moment for you to respond. “I didn’t say you had to. I was just—”
“You were just what?” He turned then, meeting your gaze with frustration flickering in his dark eyes. “Pointing out another thing I forgot? Adding it to the list?”
The words hit you like a wave, unsteadying your footing. Your heart sank as you studied his expression.
“That’s not fair,” you said quietly, your tone cautious now. “I wasn’t trying to blame you for anything.”
“Well, it sure sounded like it.” He ran a hand through his hair, his voice lower now but no less biting.
You took a step forward, something twisting painfully inside you. “Why are you acting like this?” you asked, your voice rising slightly. You hated the tremor that betrayed you, hated that you already felt like you were losing control.
“I’m not acting like anything!” he shot back, his voice louder now, filling the space between you. “Why do you always have to push? Why can’t you just let things go?”
“Because I care about you, Hyunjin! I care when you’re upset, and I don’t know why you won’t just tell me what’s wrong!”
A bitter laugh escaped his lips as he turned his head, shaking it in disbelief. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it. Did you think of that?”
The words cut deeper than you expected, the sharpness in his tone stealing the air from your lungs.
“I’m just trying to help—”
“Well, maybe I don’t need your help!” he interrupted, his voice breaking into a shout.
You flinched at the sound, the echo of it slamming into you like a freight train. Your heart was pounding now, your breath coming shorter. Your feet shuffled backward, almost on instinct, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“God, you act like you need to fix everything,” he continued, his frustration spilling out unchecked. “Like you need to fix me.”
Your breath hitched, and the room around you seemed to shift. For a moment, Hyunjin’s voice wasn’t his—it was someone else’s. Someone whose words were weapons. Someone who’d told you time and time again that you were the problem.
“I don’t want to fix you,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you tried to steady yourself. “I just want to understand.”
“Well, maybe I don’t need you to understand!” His voice broke again, louder this time, frustration and exhaustion tangled together in every syllable.
And then it happened.
Hyunjin turned sharply, his hand flying up to rake through his hair in agitation. The movement was sudden, unintentional, but your body didn’t care. Your mind didn’t stop to think.
You ran.
You didn’t even remember the door slamming behind you, your bare feet hitting the pavement as you fled into the cold night air.
The streets blurred as you moved, the echo of his voice—louder, sharper than you’d ever heard it—ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest, your breaths coming in short, frantic gasps. You didn’t stop to grab your keys or your phone. You didn’t stop to think about where you were going.
The only thought in your mind was to escape.
The cold pavement stung your feet, but you barely felt it. The thin fabric of your shirt did nothing to shield you from the biting wind, but you didn’t care. The fear clawing at your chest was louder than anything else.
You didn’t stop until your legs gave out beneath you, your body collapsing onto a park bench in the middle of nowhere. The silence around you was deafening, broken only by the sound of your ragged breaths.
You curled into yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as tears spilled down your face. The trembling in your hands wouldn’t stop, no matter how tightly you clutched at your arms.
“I’m so stupid,” you whispered to yourself, your voice breaking between sobs. “He’s not like that. He’d never—”
But the fear wouldn’t let go.
When Hyunjin realized you were gone, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. The door was ajar, swaying slightly in the wind. The apartment felt empty without you there.
“Y/N!” he called out, his voice laced with panic as he grabbed his coat and bolted into the night.
He searched everywhere he could think of: the café you loved, the little bookstore down the street, the convenience store on the corner.
But you weren’t there.
He called your name again and again, his voice growing hoarse as the minutes dragged on.
And then he saw you.
You were curled up on a bench beneath a flickering streetlight, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
“Y/N!” he shouted, relief and guilt flooding his chest as he ran toward you.
Your head snapped up, your tear-streaked face locking onto his. For a moment, you tensed, your body shrinking back as if to protect itself.
“It’s me,” he said softly, raising his hands in surrender. “It’s just me.”
He approached slowly, his heart breaking at the sight of you. “Can I come closer?”
You nodded after a moment, your breaths shaky.
He knelt in front of you, his hands hovering uncertainly before he reached out to place his coat over your trembling shoulders. “You’re freezing,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s not your fault,” you cut in, your voice barely audible. “I panicked. It’s—it’s my past. I just…” You couldn’t finish, fresh tears spilling over.
Hyunjin reached for your hands, his own trembling as he held them gently. “I don’t care how long it takes, or what it takes—I’ll do whatever I need to so you feel safe again. Please, just let me take you home.”
The apartment felt warmer when you returned, but you still shivered beneath the blanket Hyunjin had wrapped around you. He made tea in silence, his movements slow and careful, as if afraid to startle you.
When he finally sat beside you, he looked at you with an intensity that made your chest tighten.
“I want to know,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I want to understand what you’ve been through. I don’t want to hurt you again.”
You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. But when you saw the worry in his eyes, the love that hadn’t wavered despite everything, you told him.
You told him everything.
Hyunjin listened without interrupting, his hands gripping yours tightly.
“I’ll never raise my voice like that again,” he said when you finished, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll never make you feel unsafe. I swear.”
You nodded, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around you. You let yourself believe him.
tags: @intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght
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scoupsakakitty · 2 days ago
Text
Misunderstanding | idol!Vernon x reader | angst,fluff
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The members were scattered around their hotel suite, relaxing after their final U.S. tour performance. Mingyu was stretched out on the couch, munching on snacks, while Jeonghan leaned back in a chair with a smug look on his face. Vernon, however, sat quietly, staring at his phone.
“Vernon, you’ve been looking at your phone for, like, an hour,” Seungkwan pointed out, throwing a pillow at him. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Y/N,” Vernon muttered, catching the pillow but not looking up.
That immediately got the attention of the room.
Joshua raised an eyebrow. “What about her? You two seemed fine last time you talked.”
“She’s ignoring me,” Vernon admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been texting and calling, and she hasn’t replied. I don’t know what I did.”
“Maybe you did something without realizing it,” Seungkwan said, leaning forward with interest.
“Or maybe she’s overthinking something and waiting for you to fix it,” Jeonghan added with a grin.
“I didn’t do anything,” Vernon insisted. “At least, I don’t think I did. Everything was fine two days ago.”
“Girls don’t just start ignoring you for no reason,” Jeonghan teased. “Trust me, I know.”
“Just call her and find out,” Joshua suggested.
“Yeah, call her now,” Seungkwan agreed, then smirked. “And put it on speaker so we can hear.”
“What? No,” Vernon said, frowning.
“Come on,” Mingyu chimed in, laughing. “We’re trying to help. If you get stuck, we can tell you what to say.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Vernon muttered, but he relented, dialing her number and switching the phone to speaker. “If this goes badly, I’m blaming all of you.”
The members immediately leaned in, some trying to stifle laughter as the phone began to ring.
———————————————————————————
Y/N sat on her couch, scrolling through her phone. Her stomach churned as she saw the photo of Vernon and the girl yet again laughing together, looking like they were sharing a private moment. Her phone buzzed in her hand, and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Vernon’s name flash across the screen.
She let it ring a few times before answering, her tone sharp. “What do you want?”
The members collectively winced at her cold tone. Mingyu mouthed, This is bad.
“Y/N,” Vernon said cautiously. “Why have you been ignoring me? Did I do something wrong?”
“Seriously, Vernon?” Y/N snapped, her voice icy. “You don’t know?”
Vernon glanced nervously at the members. Jeonghan gestured for him to keep talking.
“No, I don’t know,” Vernon said honestly.
“Unbelievable,” Y/N muttered, her voice tinged with sarcasm. “Maybe it’s because this—whatever this is—clearly doesn’t mean anything to you.”
Joshua widened his eyes, silently mouthing, Ouch.
“What are you talking about?” Vernon asked, his tone edging toward frustration. “Of course, it means something to me.”
“Oh, does it?” Y/N snapped. “Because it sure doesn’t feel that way. You know what? Forget it. Go hang out with your other girls or whatever.”
The room fell completely silent, every member frozen in place.
“Other girls?” Vernon repeated, bewildered. “What are you talking about? There are no other girls.”
“Right,” Y/N said bitterly. “Not that it matters. We’re not even official, right? You don’t owe me an explanation.”
The words hit Vernon like a punch in the gut. He stared at the phone, momentarily speechless.
Seungkwan broke the silence, whispering loudly, “Say something!”
“Y/N,” Vernon said, his voice softer now. “Why are you saying this? What’s really going on?”
Y/N hesitated, her anger flickering. But instead of explaining, she shook her head. “Goodnight, Vernon.”
She hung up before he could respond.
The room was silent for a beat before Jeonghan whistled low. “That was… rough.”
“What does she mean by ‘other girls’?” Mingyu asked.
“I don’t know,” Vernon said, staring at his phone. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
“Well, whatever it is, she’s clearly upset about something,” Joshua said. “You need to figure out what it is before this gets worse.”
———————————————————————————
The airport was bustling as the members prepared to board their flight back to Korea. Vernon was quieter than usual, still turning the conversation over in his mind.
“Hey, Hansol,” Wonwoo said, walking over to him with his phone in hand. “You need to see this.”
Vernon frowned as Wonwoo handed him the phone. On the screen was a picture of him and a girl standing outside. The girl was looking up at him, laughing, while Vernon appeared to be smiling at something she said.
“That’s what Y/N must’ve seen,” Wonwoo explained. “My girlfriend just sent it to me. Apparently, it’s all over Twitter.”
Vernon’s stomach sank. “This is what she was talking about?”
“Probably,” Wonwoo said. “It looks bad out of context. If I didn’t know you, I’d assume it was a date.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Vernon said firmly. “She was just a fan. She asked for an autograph, and I didn’t want to be rude.”
“Well, you need to explain that to Y/N,” Wonwoo said.
———————————————————————————
Y/N wasn’t expecting a knock at her door, and she definitely wasn’t expecting Vernon. When she opened the door, her breath caught.
“Vernon? What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk,” he said, stepping inside.
She crossed her arms defensively. “I don’t think there’s anything to say.”
“Y/N,” Vernon said, his voice firm. “I know why you’re upset. It’s because of that picture, isn’t it?”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t respond.
“The one of me and that girl,” he continued. “She was just a fan. She asked for an autograph, and I didn’t want to be rude. That’s all it was.”
“You’re serious?” Y/N asked hesitantly.
“Of course, I’m serious,” he said, his tone softening. “I didn’t even know the picture existed until this morning. If I’d known, I would’ve explained everything sooner.”
Her anger began to waver, replaced by guilt. “I just… I saw the picture, and I thought…”
“I get it,” Vernon said gently. “I would’ve felt the same way if it were you.”
Y/N looked down, her voice small. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” Vernon said. “I hate that this made you feel like you don’t mean anything to me. Because you do.”
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. “I do?”
“Yeah,” he said with a small smile. “And about what you said on the phone… you’re right. We’re not official. But I want us to be.”
Her breath caught. “You… what?”
“I want to make it official,” he said, stepping closer. Slowly, he reached up, gently tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. His hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin as he held her gaze. “No more guessing, no more misunderstandings. I want to be with you, Y/N. For real.”
Her lips parted slightly, her emotions written all over her face. Tears welled in her eyes as her heart pounded. She nodded, a soft smile breaking through. “Okay. Let’s make it official.”
Relief and happiness washed over Vernon’s face as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. The world seemed to fade away in that moment.
As they pulled back from the embrace, Vernon leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “I’m so glad I have you,” he murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth.
Y/N closed her eyes, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “Me too,” she whispered.
———————————————————————————
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