#phone screen cracked. car window stuck

[sollucets]

my laptop is out of commission :<

[joelsgoldrush]

“crawl home to her” | 7.5k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. some fluff. comfort. feelings. self-deprecation. miscommunication. sort of established relationship. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). petnames. religious imagery. logan's POV. chauffeur!logan. dom!logan. reader wears logan's dog tags and clothes. pussy pronouns. phone sex. oral sex (f and m receiving). 69. fingering. masturbation (he jerks off in the limo). one (1) single spank. sort of rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie.

A/N: i wrote this as a part 2 of this story, but still, it can be read as a standalone (i'd recommend that you also read the first part as well 👀 you'll understand their relationship better). hope you like this one! <3

Logan is tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.

He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl inside his chest, teasing his lungs. Doesn’t even bother to crack the window open—why would he?—before exhaling, the haze lingering inside the limo like a fog.

One quick glance at his phone screen just to make sure his vision isn’t screwing him over—no older notifications. A pang of disillusionment settles in his being.

Not only is he fighting to keep his eyes open, exhausted from driving the same family around for the past few days while they enjoy their quality time, but he’s also bored out of his mind. 

Where the hell are you?

He adjusts his glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose, preventing them from sliding down to his lap. When his phone buzzes, he jolts, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the limo due to his excitement.

His poor heart gallops as he fumbles with the screen, unlocking it with the same urgency as a man starved for contact.

But it’s not you. It’s one of his passengers.

We’re getting out in half an hour, the message reads. By we, she means herself, her husband, and their two kids.

Logan can’t bring himself to type an actual reply, so he leaves her on read. She knows he’s not going anywhere, parked outside the arcade as if he’s rooted in place with no way out.

Family after family enters that hell on earth, kids of all ages bouncing on their heels, voices shrill with enthusiasm. He watches, half-heartedly, as parents get dragged by their little ones, who negotiate how much money they are allowed to spend tonight.

He almost feels bad for those parents. Almost. He hopes that at least they know how to say ‘No’.

All in all, he’s got another thirty minutes of solitude ahead. The radio has long since ceased to entertain him. He’s been parked here for two hours, and his mind is starting to drift. He could stretch his legs, walk around, or maybe grab a drink—but damn it.

He wants to talk to you.

You’d said he could call you after dropping the family off. That was three hours ago. The last message he received from you was still stuck in his head, replaying over and over like a lifeline. Logan knows you must be busy, probably taking care of Charles and—

Okay, he’ll get back to that later. 

You: Just got out of the shower. Call me in five?

Right now, he could die a happy man. Were he a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously, anticipation already building for the simple joy of hearing you.

Logan: Got it.

The next five minutes feel like an eternity. He finishes his cigar, flicking the stub beneath the seat without giving it a second thought. For now, he doesn’t care about being a messy fucker. He’ll deal with the mess some other time.

Priorities.

A quick spritz of some cheap air freshener he picked up from a gas station fills the car, masking the distinctive scent of smoke. God forbid the kids start whining about how ‘weird’ it smells in the limo.

With a grimace, he sprays a little more—floral, of all scents? It feels insulting.

How kind of him to still be this considerate.

His thumb hovers over your contact, and he presses the call button with an agility he hasn’t had in years (thanks to you).

One, two, three rings, and then—

“Logan,” you say softly, your voice a little breathless, like you’ve been hurrying all over the place.

He stops grinding his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing. He unclenches his fists, fingers uncurling one by one, as if letting go of some invisible burden.

Outside the vehicle, people stop dying, babies stop being born, and the world itself pauses just for him to listen to you.

You can’t see him, but he smiles either way. “Hey, baby.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time talking to Charles. We had dinner, and then I just—I felt so gross, you know? From cooking and all that. Took a shower, and it got pretty late.”

You end with a sigh, and he imagines you rubbing a hand over your face. “Please tell me you weren’t sleeping when I texted you.”

“Not even close. Still waiting for them.”

“They’re really taking their time, huh?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” he murmurs, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the steering wheel. “How was your day?”

“Great! I’m already in bed.”

“My bed.”

You laugh, that sweet sound making his heart stutter. “Well, yeah. Where else do you want me to sleep if I’m at your place? On the floor?”

If someone had told Logan a year ago that he’d let someone live in his space, let alone take care of Charles, he’d have scoffed. "Pathetic," he’d have said, rolling his eyes with that familiar growl in his throat. Pretty sure he’d also puffed his chest while saying so.

Because Logan Howlett wasn’t one for accepting help. He’s been on his own since the earth was still cooling down.

But for you? He made exceptions. Plenty of them. And if it weren’t for your altruism, he wouldn’t have accepted this job—a job that pays well enough to cover Charles’ meds and put food on the table. He needs this rich family’s money.

“You’ve got a girlfriend now?” Charles had asked, when Logan explained he’d be staying with you while he went away for a few days.

“Big word you’re using there,” Logan had replied, placing two pills into Charles’ palm. The old man gave him a death stare. “Don’t play dumb. It’s not like you don’t know the drill.”

Mumbling something incoherent before swallowing the pills, Charles had taken slow sips of water between each one, sinking back into the mattress with a weary sigh. “If she’s not your girlfriend, then what is she?”

“A friend.”

“That’s nice. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

He shakes that memory away, forcing his mind back to the call. “Try not to be so kind to him. What if he falls in love with you?” he inquires, a mocking tone weaving through his words. 

And that’s when you drop the bombshell. “You mean like you did?” 

You laugh, but Logan… doesn’t. He can’t do it. He makes sure he’s breathing on command: in and out, in and out, in and out. 

The mention of love unsettles him. He doesn’t feel safe anymore, doesn’t know what game you’re playing. Where’s the rulebook?

Is he—could he be—falling in love with you? Is that what you’re implying? And if so, do you feel the same?

In the long run, you mumble: “It was a joke.” Only then do his lungs fill with fresh air, untainted by the weight of his unease. But he can’t let it pass, the fact you sound disappointed. Defeated.

He promised himself he’d never hurt you. Though he doesn’t intend to, it feels as if he’s just stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife further into your frame—unwillingly.

“Remember the—” he pauses a moment, throwing his head back in frustration, silently cursing himself. “The pills. You’ve been giving them to him, right?”

“Yes, Logan.”

“Please, remember it’s only—”

“Logan,” you try again, cutting through the wave of his spiraling thoughts. He can picture you behind closed lids, looking at him through your lashes, your hand resting gently on his chest. “I have it under control, okay? He’s doing alright. I swear I’m taking good care of him.”

“I don’t doubt that, honey.” Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, he feels an unexpected sense of longing for your presence there, like a ghost haunting his every move, confined to the limits of his brain. “Can’t help but worry. That’s all.”

A soft hum reverberates through the line. He hears the rustle of sheets, the sound of you tossing around in his bed, and his pulse quickens at the thought.

“You said you’re sleepin’ on my bed.”

“Good memory you have.”

“You wearin’ my clothes as well?”

 Thick silence, the kind he relishes.

“Yeah,” you finally reply, shifting the phone from side to side. You take a deep breath, and add: “I forgot to bring mine.”

He hates how you easily find a way to get him riled up despite being miles away. It must be the power of words.

“I don’t believe you.” He knows he shouldn’t, hates himself for doing it, but one of his hands palms the half-hard bulge in his black slacks, suppressing a low groan. “Think you did it on purpose.”

A rush of heat, sharp and urgent, washes over him. Is he really about to do this? Get himself off in the very car he uses for work? Twisted, incredibly sick of him, he thinks.

Still, he craves more. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

You laugh at his demanding tone, fanning the flames of his desperation. “When did you turn into a horny teenager?”

“Always been, baby,” Logan purrs, undoing the button of his pants, followed by the fly. His eyes flick upwards for just a moment—no cars, no one in sight. He’s presumably alone. It’s all the confirmation he needs to say: “C’mon. Tell your old man what clothes you stole from him.”

He’s never done this before—phone sex. He’s heard about it, sure, but never imagined he’d fall so hard for the idea. The thrill of it sinks into him, electrifying.

What are you doing? Is your lip caught between your teeth? Do your eyes wander down your own body? Maybe your fingers are already skimming over your skin.

“It’s just a random shirt,” you murmur. “Plain, white.”

“What else?”

“There’s nothing else.”

Logan’s breath hitches as his hand moves to his cock, spotting the damp patch on his briefs where the tip has already started to leak. The moment he slides the elastic down past his balls, he fists his shaft in a slow stroke, going from the base to the head. “No panties? And you expect me t’believe this wasn’t planned?”

Your muffled whimper is like molten lava spilling into his ear, bringing him to full hardness. More shuffling follows on your end, driving him wild with the anticipation. “Why do you do this to me if you’re not here?”

“‘Cause I want you touchin’ yourself just like I’m doin’.” He thumbs the head, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. He aches to feel your mouth there instead. “Bet that pussy’s been cryin’ out for me, huh? Must’ve got used to me fillin’ her every other night.”

Your breathing grows more uneven, small gasps filtering through the speaker. “I need you here with me. This is—ugh—not enough.”

“What’s not enough, sweetheart?”

There’s a pause as the sound of your phone shifts again, and then he hears it clearly—the wet, needy sound of your fingers working between your legs, filling the silence with the loud squelching of your cunt. “My fingers,” you blurt out, more distant than before, like you’re merging with the bed, dissolving with every touch.

Logan spits roughly into his palm, the slickness of his saliva easing the drag of his calloused hand along his length, good enough to make the movement more satisfying.

He moans aloud, eyes shut tight, your name slipping from his lips, a whispered prayer, as if saying it could somehow summon you to his side. “I spoil you too much,” he rasps, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder, using every resource available to him, anything to feel something real. “Seems like you’ve forgotten how to make yourself come.”

Your moans follow his, the breathy sounds a clear sign of how close you are, hanging on the edge, your release just a heartbeat away. But it’s not enough, and you need him. He wonders if you can feel his thoughts from miles away, because— “Want your cock so bad, Lo. I m-miss you.”

He has to stop jerking himself to hold off his orgasm, stomping his foot against the pedals. “Fuck, darlin’. You keep sayin’ those things and I swear I’ll be back with you by morning.”

His sole focus now is you—getting you to come. Driven by his growing frenzy, it’s the only coherent thought that claws through the haze in his mind. “Keep talking, please,” you plead, fingers still lost in the heat of your body. “Tell me what you’ll do to me when you see me.”

Logan picks up the rhythm again, his movements faltering as his chest heaves, ragged breaths spilling out while his hand works faster. “Gonna fuck you slow and deep, just how you like it. Face to face, so you can kiss me as much as you want, ‘cause I know my girl loves that, am I right?”

My girl. He’ll regret that one the second the high fades and clarity sets in.

Word after word falls from his lips without thought, uncontrollable, as though he’s surrendered to the storm of desire raging in his being—a storm in which your name is the eye of it all.

You are everywhere, and you take up all the empty spaces he thought were impossible to fill, sinking into the depths of his unconsciousness.

Not a single part of him is left untouched by you, by the power of your presence in his life, consuming him in ways he never imagined.

Your airy mewls ripple through the line, feeding his ravenousness, adding to the tightening knot of pleasure coiling low in his abdomen. His muscles strain, thighs tensing. Each stroke of his hand prolongs this sweet torture. 

“Come for me, princess. You’d make me so h-happy if you came right now.”

And you do, because it’s not just his touch anymore—it’s his voice, and the way he commands you without force. How you’ve become accustomed to him, nodding along to each instruction he mutters.

Beneath your fingers, your swollen clit pulses, and though he can’t see it, he imagines it perfectly, having spent enough time worshiping it.

He knows, even from a distance, what your body must be doing. Your back arching off the bed, thighs quivering and clenching tight around your own hand. Those perfect legs of yours trembling as you reach your so-desired climax.

Loud and unrestrained, you moan, and for a moment, he wants to be with you so badly that he ponders if the theory of traveling across time and space sounds that far-fetched after all.

Logan doesn't need much after that for the thread to snap at long last, his groans dying on his lips as he stares in awe at the spurts of his seed landing wherever his eyes fall: a bit on the top of his pants, on his hand, his briefs. His cock twitches in his grip as he continues stroking himself through the aftershocks, gulping when it becomes too much to handle.

So phone sex is off the list now. Great.

“Miss you, too,” he mumbles once he’s caught his breath, tossing his glasses onto the passenger seat. His forehead feels damp to the touch, and he contemplates when was the last time he came this hard.

The elephant in the room hasn’t been addressed yet. He knows you expect him to say more, something deeper and rawer, but that’s all he can force himself to spit out.

Sometimes, he forgets that you can’t read him all the time. Although you know him better than anyone else, there are certain thoughts and memories locked tightly inside him, things you'd never discover on your own. Secrets he admits he should share with you, but he’s at a loss for how. Words aren’t doable when he needs them the most.

Maybe it's a matter of age—you’re a natural at voicing your feelings.

At some point, you ask: “When did you say you were returning?”

One thing’s clear: he can’t afford to lose you. He’d be an idiot if he let that happen.

“In five days, I think.” Were he with you, he'd hold you in his arms, kissing your lips. God, how he misses kissing you. All of you. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“It’s okay,” you respond, and in his mind, a blank canvas fills with the familiar image of you lying on your side, curling into a ball the way you always do. “I should go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Thank you for everything. “Get some rest.” Are you still in love with me? “Bye.” I’m coming back. You know how I feel about you, do you?

So much left unsaid, words he lacks the strength to speak. That, along with his come-stained clothes. And, of course, the limousine now perfumed like a flower shop.

Exhaustion clings to him again.

His luck has never been this good.

The next afternoon, one of the couple’s kids falls ill. Must be something he ate, the woman tells Logan, her voice light, though he can hear the shuffle of urgency behind her words.

Her husband packs their bags in the background, the muted thuds of luggage hitting the floor. You know how children are. Their hands are always filthy!

What she doesn’t realize is that Logan, in fact, doesn’t know how children are, because how could he?

He’s holed up in the hotel across the street, his only responsibility being to wait on their call, ready to drive whenever they needed him. Needless to say, his accommodations are nothing like theirs. Not that he minds it—he’s not one for luxury, has never needed it.

Truth be told, he’s no stranger to beds that groan if you shift slightly, clogged toilets that spit back water like they’re alive.

Joy rushes through him when he hears the news. He’s coming back earlier than expected, a thrill building in his chest. Twelve days he’s been away, his greed growing with each second in that desolate hotel room.

Now, the beating of his heart quickens, a faint thrumming as he stares out the window. He debates whether to let you know about his early return or keep it as a surprise. Would it be better if he just showed up?

How would you feel, knowing that, by the time the lights are out, he’ll be yours again?

He knows he should feel sorry for the poor kid, but all he can muster is a look of concern that barely reaches his eyes. Each time they pull into a gas station, he listens to the hurried slap of footsteps as the boy rushes for the bathroom to empty his insides.

He watches in the rearview as the kid’s father shakes his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Do you have kids?” he asks, his voice forced into a casual tone, like he’s trying to break the silence that’s settled between them. 

Logan’s only response is to turn up the radio, some pop song he’s never heard spilling from the speakers. The lyrics are a blur of nonsense to him, but it’s enough to drown out the man’s words and the boy’s misery.

Some things never change.

As the sun dips below the horizon, he’s finally free, no longer at anyone’s beck and call. He contemplates the possibility of getting a speeding ticket, weighing his options. It hardly matters. The pull to see you, to feel you, is stronger than anything else.

Even though he tries to think of another time in his life when he felt such a raw need, no memory comes close.

When he does pull up to his place, he does it quietly. Parking the limo, he doesn’t honk, doesn’t announce himself. Fumbling with the keys ever so lightly so as not to wake you up, fitting them into the lock.

His wrist twists, and the door gives way with a soft creak.

Anxiety ripples through him as he steps inside. The smell of freshly cooked food hits him, but it only tightens the knot in his stomach, reminding him of how long it’s been since he last ate.

Later, he tells himself. After. Once he’s sated his true hunger—the kind of hunger that can only be satisfied by sinking his fingers into something real, fleshy, malleable. 

Hunger—yes, it’s animalistic, feral even. Will he be able to control himself once he’s near you? In moments like this, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.

His feet take him to his bedroom, knowing the path to it very well. Fingers hovering over the knob, he takes a deep breath.

It’s already late, past midnight, yet energy courses through his veins as though he’s just woken from a long, ethereal dream.

He finds you asleep, your body wrapped snugly in the sheets, clutching a pillow close to your chest. Your cheek is pressed into it, breathing soft and steady, lulling him in. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he kicks off his shoes, then slips in beside you, mirroring your position. 

A lamp sits on his nightstand, one that isn’t his, and he figures you must have brought it from your apartment. There has to be a symbolism for that.

It’s incredible how his entire world can fit into such a narrow bed.

The smart thing would be to let you sleep, to simply watch you for a moment longer. But he can’t help himself.

His thumb lingers near your face before gently cupping your cheek, and the very first contact with your skin sends a shudder through him, the warmth of your skin grounding him. He trails his fingers down to your chin, holding it with just enough pressure to remind himself that he’s here.

Leaning in, he presses his lips softly against your forehead, your typical perfume wrapping around him like a welcome.

Welcome home, Logan.

For the first time, he feels that someone’s been counting down the minutes until his return. He’d always believed a person like him didn’t deserve this. That he just wasn’t built for it.

Countless years had he spent convincing himself he’d never be the kind of man who could inspire love. His life had already been written long ago—predetermined by some cruel hand in the sky.

Destiny, fate, call it what you want—once the cards are laid out, there’s no escaping them. Or so he used to think.

You had taken that pen into your own hands, rewriting his future. You, of all people, had changed his life. No matter what the future held for the two of you, he’d always be grateful. Grateful that you’d seen the dim spark in him that others had chosen to ignore.

Thoughtlessly, his fingers continue their gentle strokes along your cheek, your hair. You stir beside him, shifting in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, close again, and then open once more, blinking in confusion.

“Logan?” you croak, voice still groggy and thick with sleep, coming to your senses. Before he can respond, you throw yourself on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. “Why—how—”

“Sweetheart,” he says, attempting to hide his grin, but failing when your kisses shift to his neck, your nose nuzzling against his skin. A laugh slips out, warmth flooding his chest.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming home early!”

Home. Had he heard right? Had you used that word knowingly?

Peering into your eyes, he catches his reflection in your pupils, tiredness etched into his features. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You could’ve told me,” you reply, fingers threading through his greying locks, massaging his scalp. You place a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. “I would’ve waited up for you at least.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he whispers back, gaze drifting to your lips, and you close the space between you, his sigh mingling with yours as one hand cradles the small of your back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. His other hand tilts your head, inviting your tongues to greet each other in an unhurried dance.

You move languidly on top of him, and he notices, breaking the kiss and pulling back. “You’re gonna fall asleep on me, are you?”

The way your lashes flutter in response should be illegal. “I could use a human-size pillow.”

“I should shower first.”

“No.”

“Baby, I smell like gas.”

“So?”

A smirk tugs at his lips at your insistence, and he gently lays you back against the mattress. Drawn to your charm once again, he licks into your mouth, mentally scolding himself when he gets carried away, letting the kiss linger longer than intended.

“I’ll be quick,” he promises, pulling the sheets over your body. Resigned, you simply nod, settling on your side.

Ten minutes later, you’re dozing off, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he slips into bed, wrapping himself around you from behind. One arm drapes over your waist, the other cushions your head, and there’s not a patch of skin between you left untouched.

Fatigue begins to delve deeper into his bones the longer he stays curled around you, but before the weight of sleep takes him, and the silence steals his chance, he huffs: “I missed you.” His beard grazes your skin in a soft, unintentional caress.

You pull his wrist to your lips, pressing a short-lived kiss to the inside of it. “Missed you, too.”

How the roles have reversed.

In the quietness of this starless night, you leave him no other choice but to believe you.

3:34 a.m. Still hostage to the lack of light outside. The world remains submerged in the gentle tides of sleep, undulating between dreams, except for him.

Logan wakes up at 3:34 a.m. because he’s rock hard, and being flushed against your back wasn’t helping him with his situation at all. If anything, it only heightened it.

He sits at the edge of the bed, his mind running in circles, debating whether he should jump to his feet and head to the bathroom for another shower—this time, a cold one. Returning to sleep, at least in this moment, is not a viable option.

His gaze drifts to the moonlight spilling through the window, casting its pale glow across the room. Is this your doing? The question lingers, unshakable, in his thoughts. It remains as just that: a question.

When you quietly rest your chin on his shoulder, he stifles a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek. Your voice breaks through the quiet.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you circle his frame, in an effort to persuade him to sink back into the mattress.

“It’s nothing,” he says, pulse accelerating. Please, don’t look down. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“But what is—”

He doesn’t get to hear the rest of your sentence. You do look down, finding the outline of his hardened cock straining against his briefs, stealing your full attention.

“Wow.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“And leave you like this?” One hand creeps toward his waistband, your breath warm against his ear. “Wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.”

Your nails trace a path through the coarse hair at his navel, and Logan tenses. His legs feel like jelly as you cup his balls, fondling them gently between your fingers.

Behind him, your low chuckle stirs something primal in him, making his blood thrum hot beneath his skin. He should be the one doing this to you, not the other way around.

“Darlin’, I don’t—” He’s cut off by his own guttural groan when you fist his length, pumping him in rhythm with his uneven breaths. “I don’t need this.”

“Seems like you do,” you whisper, momentarily halting your ministrations to place your palm in front of his face, hoping he takes the hint. You kiss his stubble, pausing just short of his mouth. “I want to take care of you. Always do.”

Your palm hovers before him, inviting. Grabbing your wrist, he licks it, coating it in his spit and guiding you back down to him. Together, your hands glide along his length, and his gaze locks onto yours, the intensity of it making his neck tense.

You beam with delight under his stare. That red organ caged within his ribs—a blood-pumping machine of passion—surges back to life as he sees you.

He had won the battle. He had triumphed over his past; had lived enough lives, endured enough years, to arrive at this moment.

This had to be the purpose of his existence: to share this part of his stay on earth with you.

“You’re so hard,” you say, twisting your wrist at the tip of his cock, reveling in every buck of his hips, each movement a reflection of his exaltation. “Guess you did miss me.”

With a quiet growl, he reaches behind, nudging your thighs apart until they find your mound, cupping you through your underwear. “I’m not the only one who’s been missin’ someone.” He pulls the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. His nostrils flare as he feels how ready you are. “Why am I not surprised?”

Your breath hitches, and you press yourself closer against him, your tits against his back, mouth teasing at his neck. “That’s what happens when you’re gone.” Another kiss on his nape. “You could take me with you next time.”

“Can’t do that,” he answers, teasing your entrance. “No work would get done.”

His movements cease to a stop. Yours do too. Turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, he scrutinizes your expression, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in your affected state.

“You’re not goin’ back to sleep, are you?”

There’s the shake of your head. A single word escapes your lips, imbued with pure fervor: “Please.”

He captures your mouth in an ardent kiss, tugging at your shirt (which is, in fact, his) to undress you, his wandering hands roaming beneath it.

As his mouth meets your neck, something cold brushes against his lips, drawing his gaze down to what’s hanging from your neck.

His dog tags. The ones he had given you before leaving for that job, as his way of telling you I’m coming back without having to say it aloud. And you, as always, understood; had even promised to keep them safe, though he hadn’t expected you to actually wear them.

Now, with your shirt discarded, they lay against your bare skin, his name resting in the valley between your breasts.

“You like ‘em?” His fingers grip the chain and give it a gentle tug, drawing you closer so he can breathe over your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “Like knowing you’re mine? You get off on it?”

You nod in agreement. Of course, you do. Though emotionally constipated and not the most expressive, Logan is a lover who knows how to awaken desire—a good lover, indeed. A decent one.

Which is why he agrees to any idea that crosses your mind, like the one you just whispered in his ear.

He may be older than you, but he’s always been more on the traditional side. You, on the other hand, are continually searching for new ways to innovate.

The round globes of your ass jiggle over his face as he spreads you apart, entrenched by how your skin moves above him, your glistening hole clenching around nothing, as if your body itself is calling to him.

With his head propped against the headboard, he watches you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down the wiry hairs of his cock. The slick heat of your tongue traces over his slit, back and forth, driving him to the edge.

When he hears you gag, it stirs something inside him—a deep need to return the favor, to match your devotion.

At the end of the day, he’s a man on a mission, and right now, that mission is you.

Right there, with his nose and mouth buried in you, he wonders why he hadn't thought of this sooner. If he could choose a natural end like any other man, he'd wish for it to be by suffocation—your body his last breath.

Logan inhales deeply, like a man starved, working two of his fingers inside your throbbing center, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit, punching moan after moan out of you. Each thrust of his fingers, each stroke of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His beard, streaked with gray, leaves a trail of fire wherever your hips meet his face, pushing back against him. Every so often, you pull off his cock just to ramble, panting, about how good he's making you feel.

From where he lies, you’re a sight to behold, nothing short of divine. “Just what I needed, doll. You taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he blurts out, your frantic cries pouring into his ears as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you. You love makin’ your old man happy, don’t you?”

He used to think he'd burn in hell for indulging in the desire to know you like this—raw, ungraceful.

His judgment must be fucked up, because now, all he sees in you is heaven incarnate. You must be the closest thing to it he’ll ever find.

“Shit, I…” you trail off, gasping as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, drinking from your arousal and tasting every bit of you. “I thought about you every day.”

“Bet you did, just like that night I called you. You know how I felt when you told me you were wearing my clothes?” His hand comes down with a firm slap on your right asscheek, drawing a whine from you as your movements falter. “Can smell you all over these sheets. Makes me wonder how many times you made yourself come while I was away.”

You slip the tip of his cock back in your mouth, your hands and lips working in sync. His nose brushes against the plush skin of your thighs before his teeth graze your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a sting. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again, and you moan around him, your throat vibrating against his length.

He makes you come like this, knuckles deep inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Overwhelmed by pleasure, you let go of his dick, and it hits Logan’s stomach with a wet pop. His strong arms tug you closer to his face, eyes falling closed as you ride the wave of your orgasm against his mouth, palms pressed flat on his chest.

For a brief moment, he can’t breathe, can’t feel anything but you, your scent, your taste filling his senses.

Later, he rolls you onto your back and climbs on top of you, uncertain of how much time he has spent lapping at your wetness. His hard length glides along your folds, and he lines himself up without pushing in, looking right into your eyes. 

“Remember what I told you that night over the phone?” he asks, his breath coming in quick bursts, and you nod, head lolling back as he pinches your lower lip between his fingers. “Repeat it.”

“Logan—”

“You say it, and I’ll make it happen.”

Perplexity clouds your features. “You said you’d fuck me slow and deep, just h-how I like it. Face to face, because—”. The words escape you, a sob tearing through your throat as he eases the first few inches of himself inside you, your walls instinctively making space to wrap around him.

He’s home.

“Go on. What else did I say?” he teases, relishing in it. He’s guilty as sin. “Or were you too lost in thought touchin’ yourself?”

“F-face to face,” you slur, nails digging into his scarred back, and he keeps plunging his length into your interior to the hilt. Your lips part slightly, craving the kiss that only he can give you. “You said you’d do it face to face so I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”

He hums, low in his throat, as he gives the first thrust of the night, taking great pleasure in your expression: open-mouthed, eyes scrunched, and a slight crease forming between your brows.

Smoothing his thumb over your forehead, he tsks, pausing his movements. “None of that, princess. Look at me, c’mon.”

You obey, forcing your eyes open, and in that instant, he swears he can feel every tremor coursing through you. “Logan,” you coo, your voice aching as you stretch your neck toward his mouth.

The way you say his name—seductively, charged with a fascination that riles him up—manages to ignite a fire only you can kindle. It’s all the invitation he needs.

“I know. Too much, huh?” His tone drips with condescension, teasing in a way that feels almost cruel. He can’t help it, though: it’s in very his nature. “Need to hear you say it. Need you to tell me how much you want this.”

Like everything else in your world, your patience begins to wither, hips instinctively bucking beneath him, seeking even the slightest bit of friction. But he still withholds the kiss you long for, dangling it just out of reach.

“Please,” you beg, voice breaking as you plead. “Fuck me, baby. Missed you so much while you were away. Please, please, please—”

Logan enjoys hearing you beg. He won’t pretend otherwise. There's a satisfaction in knowing he holds this power over you, that he's the only one who can unravel you this way, your body splayed open beneath him.

The thought of others who may have once been in his place, making you fall apart just like this, sets his blood on edge.

Jealousy, sharp and corrosive, crawls up his spine, and it spurs him on, guiding the tempo of his thrusts.

He wonders if he’s ever fucked you this fiercely before, with a passion that pulses from every part of him. You’re given no space for thought, no moment to catch your breath—just his unforgiving pace and the sounds spilling from your lips.

He has a way of breaking you down, turning you into a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him, and you surrender willingly, craving each second of it.

So fuckin’ tight. Can y’hear her? How badly she needs me?

Sex had never felt like this before. He’d grown accustomed to quick, meaningless fucks in poorly lit bars, fleeting encounters that left him questioning if this was all there was. If this wasn’t the best he’d ever know. 

For a while, he’d tried to solve that emptiness, searching in nameless lovers and hollow hearts for the very thing he feared most: love.

And yet, he wanted it, yearned it, guarding his desire like a secret he barely admitted to himself. Until one day, you stumbled into his life, and all the strength he thought he had wasn’t enough to push you away.

He presses deep into the back of your thighs, bringing your chests so close they're nearly brushing. Claiming your mouth in a maddening kiss, all teeth and tongue, leaving no space for softness. As he nibbles at your bottom lip, he feels you tighten around him, your cunt pulling him under, clouding his thoughts.

“Close?” he murmurs, hips snapping against you with an utterly obscene rhythm that drowns out the world, better than any song ever made. “Such a good girl. Gonna come, sweetheart? Let me see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart, making a mess just for me.”

The constant, steady drag of his cock doesn’t seem to get old for you. He’s leaving his mark within you, inside you, carving a space for himself. His tip keeps hitting all the right spots, prompting you to tilt your pelvis to meet him halfway, telling him there, yes, there. More, please.

His hand slides down, rubbing your clit with his fingers. Doesn’t need any extra help when doing so, your arousal providing all the slickness he needs. He feels like a runner on the final stretch, the finish line within reach, so close he can almost touch it, savoring the euphoria and bliss of crossing it.

The way you sing his name never loses its allure, despite all the times he’s heard it spill from your lips. Especially at this moment, with him buried deep inside you, every thrust a promise to make you feel good.

You shamelessly come while he keeps driving into you, vigorous and untamed—like a caged animal unleashed, tasting freedom for the very first time.

Ankles digging into his lower back, a trail of persistent kisses along his beard. You want him inside, that much he can tell.  It’s not like he ever finishes anywhere else, but the reminder doesn’t bother him. It only serves as a reassurance: that you still want this, want him. You haven’t changed your mind.

He sinks his teeth into your neck the instant he feels his orgasm tearing through him, hips stilling and sagging as a string of grunts abandons his being, dampening your skin even more.  He loves to fill you up, it consumes him entirely.

Such an intimate, visceral act, and then he gets to see his seed trickling down your thighs. He realizes that he doesn’t need much to be happy.

You keep kissing him, his neck, his face. It may seem absurd to say that every kiss feels like the first, yet it’s true.

Even after he’s traced all the contours of your mouth and committed every detail of your body to memory, he can’t help but feel that same thrill of excitement he experienced months ago when he dared to push beyond the boundaries he had set for himself.

Staring at each other, naked, all the love in the world seems to fill these four walls. The compassion and tenderness in your gaze remain unchanged. You’re a dream come true.

It can’t end like this. He can’t allow you to drift back into sleep without saying what needs to be said. Something has to happen, something only he can conjure.

“I think…” He hesitates. Starting with I think carries an air of uncertainty. “I don’t—”

“Logan,” you interrupt, your hand finding his. “I know.”

Yes, you do. You always seem to know everything, but that can’t be enough. He can’t lean on your unspoken understanding of his feelings.

“You still deserve to hear it.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

More silence. The moon is the solitary spectator of his upcoming declaration. 

“You were right,” he begins, drawing your intertwined hands closer to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of yours. His voice drops to a murmur. It’s not just his body that feels completely exposed anymore; something deeper within him stands bare. “I’m in love with you.”

You scrutinize him as if he’s revealing the secret to eternal life. Again, you kiss his cheek, cupping it gently with your palm.

“It won’t get any better than this. There are no more layers to peel away, okay?” He offers explanations you never even asked for in the first place. “This is what I am.” Much to his dismay, you overlook his choice of words: what instead of who.

He glances away, his gaze landing on the dog tags resting against your skin. The same old guilt threatens to engulf him, as it does each time without fail, and that seems to be your cue to lower yourself to his eye level, eyebrows raised.

“I’m not with you because I’m waiting for you to change. I like you just as you are, Logan. And I want all of you, both the good and bad stuff.” A gentle smile breaks across your face as you stretch your arm to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. Placing them on your nose, your eyes twinkle with contentment. “Do they look good on me?”

“You don’t need them yet.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t pull them off.”

“Come here,” he mutters, sighing when you nuzzle his chest, cradling your head between his hands. He ponders what to say, what to do next, but no clear idea sounds promising.

And so it gives you the chance to speak up: “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

I hope I don’t, he thinks to himself as he brushes your hair away from your face, fingers caressing your temples. I hope I never do.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

[xosannie]

Our Dirty Little Secret

Part 2 to my fic Dirty Little Secret, check out part 1 is you haven’t already. Thank you for reading <3

☆Genre: Smut 18+ MDNI

☆Pairing: sex worker!Mingi x fem!reader

☆Word Count: 6.9k

☆Warnings: Mingi is a bit submissive in this, unprotected sex, recording while having sex, praise, sending nudes, hand job, fwb, mention of porn (lmk if I missed anything)

☆Summary: After finding out about your best friend Mingi’s secret porn account, you grew to accept his decision in his line of work. You actually start to feel very curious about it yourself, and Mingi is more than happy to fulfill your curiosity.

☆a/n: This took so long and I don’t really like it that much but I hope you do lol :,)

—————————————————————————

You throw your head back laughing, holding your stomach after your friend said something to make you laugh. You were sitting in a small cafe, matcha in hand, while you chatted with your friend from work. 

“I’m serious, it fell and spilled all over me,” he says, taking a sip of his latte.

“San, you’re such a clutz. How many times has that happened now?”

“Three,” he says quietly, and you laugh harder. 

”Is Mingi coming or what?” San says, rolling his eyes at you.

"Yes, I’m sure he is.”

You hear a ping come from your phone; oh, that must be Mingi. You pick it up and open the message without a second thought, not realizing it was an image he sent.

Loser (Mingi): Should I post this? :))

(attached image)

You choke on your drink, staring at the photo of Mingi holding his hard dick in his hand. San looked at you confused, and you try to compose yourself, trying not to act like a fool in front of your coworker.

“What?” He asks.

“Um… he’s uh stuck in traffic.”

"Bro, you scared me; you’re acting like you saw something you shouldn’t have.”

You felt your ears heat up. Damn Mingi, he did this on purpose. Ever since that night at his house, he started to send you nude videos and pictures of himself; you loved it at first. But then he started doing it to tease you, sending stuff when you were at work or in times when he knew you couldn’t be alone to touch yourself. He’s a menace, that damn Mingi.

You set your drink down to text Mingi back. 

You: WHAT THE HECK?!? 

Loser (Mingi): what? 

You: YOU KNOW IM WITH SAN RIGHT NOW, YOU CANT JUST RANDOMLY SEND ME YOUR DICK LIKE THAT!!

Loser (Mingi): Aww, you don’t like my dick anymore? :(

You internally palm your forehead. In this moment, you thank whatever god there is that you can pull off a pretty good poker face. You glance at San before looking back at your phone, thumbs dancing against the keyboard as you typed back at Mingi.

You: Shut up, where are you? Me and San are waiting.

Loser (Mingi): I’m coming. I’m coming. No need to get your panties in a twist.

You roll your eyes, setting your phone down to look back at San, who was waiting patiently to have your attention back on him.

“He’s on his way,” you huff.

“Great. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

San smiles softly, showing off his dimples, and he takes another sip of his latte. You hear another ding from your phone, and you glance down at the screen in your lap.

Loser (Mingi): So you don’t like the photo? </3

You: Of course I like it. Now hurry up and get over here.

Mingi smiles down at the phone after reading your response. He turns off the car, stepping out and walking toward the door of the cafe. He can see you and San through the window; he was there the whole time watching. He just wanted to see your reaction to his teasing, that little prick. 

————————————————————————

You, San, and Mingi all caught up with each other, updating one another about your lives, telling stories, and cracking jokes. It was now getting darker, the sun started to set, and the cafe became emptier. You check the time on your phone before speaking.

"Oh, they’re going to close soon. We should probably head out.” 

San checks the time as well, looking down at his watch and letting out a sigh. He looked up, glancing at you and Mingi, who sat together in front of him. 

“Yeah, I should probably head home now. I have to study for my upcoming exam.” 

You all agree to end the night here, getting up out of your seats and picking up your trash. Mingi takes your empty cup and drapes your jacket over his shoulder. 

“That’s alright, man. Good luck on your exam.”

“Thanks Mingi.”

Mingi and San shake hands, patting each other back. You pull San in for a hug, and Mingi tries to ignore the small pang of jealousy he felt when he noticed San’s arms wrapping around your waist. 

"Bye, Sannie; see you next time.”

“Oh, did you need a ride back home?”

You pull away from the hug, and Mingi steps in, wrapping his arm over your shoulder. 

“It’s okay, I can take her.” 

San glances at the two of you, smiling softly. There was a hint of suspicion in his eyes, but he shrugged it off and waved goodbye.

“Alright, well, I’ll get going. Good night.”

You and Mingi both wish him a good night and watch him walk off. Once San was out of sight, you pulled yourself from Mingi’s hold. You look up at him with an annoyed face, causing Mingi to put his hands up in defense.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I told you to stop sending those things to me when I’m out in public.”

You playfully smack his chest, making Mingi chuckle quietly. You turn on your heels, walking out the cafe and toward Mingi’s car in the parking lot.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He follows behind you, catching up fairly easily due to his long legs. He beats you to the passenger seat, opening the car door for you. You huff, climbing in and sitting back with your arms crossed. Mingi couldn’t help the sly smirk plastered on his face as he walks around the car and climbs in the driver seat.

“Wipe that smug look off your face.”

“Or what?”

Mingi leans closer, glancing at your lips, then back at your eyes. He looked so pretty under the dim lighting. You fight every urge to smash your lips against his, but you didn’t give him that satisfactory. 

Instead, you turned your head, looking out the window. Mingi frowned a bit when you didn’t give him what he wanted. He turned the car on, faint music playing quietly in the background.

“Don’t give me that treatment. You loved the photo; I know you did.”

He drove out of the parking lot, and you watched the darkened trees pass by. You scoffed at his words, not bothering to look back at his face. Obviously you liked the photo; you couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole time you were out. You caught yourself staring at Mingi a little longer than you should have, admiring his pretty lips and hands (and all the things they can do to you). 

Your silence only makes Mingi smirk wider, already knowing what’s on your mind. He glanced at you for a second, then back on the road, one of his hands reached down to grip your thigh.

“Aw, don’t be mad at me, baby. I noticed how you were staring at me back at the cafe.”

Your body tensed, and the feeling of his large hand grabbing the flesh of your thigh made you feel a stir at the pit of your stomach. Of all days, why did you decide today was the day to wear a dress? He gripped your thigh, massaging it in his hand, running his fingers higher up under your dress.

“You look so pretty in this dress. It took every ounce in me not to rip it off and pound you in front of San.”

Images of Mingi’s words flashed in your head, causing your breath to grow more shallow. You subconsciously pressed your thighs together; that didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He let out a low chuckle, squeezing your thigh harder. God, you hated how easily he can rile you up. He knew exactly what he was doing; his ego was seriously too big for his own good. 

You take his hand and guide it back to the steering wheel. Mingi cocked his brow up, feeling a sense of amusement when you play hard to get.

“Two hands on the wheel, Mingi.” You teased.

“Fine, but later tonight I’ll have two hands on you.”

After a few minutes of shooting each other glances and bantering with a bit of flirting, you finally arrive at your place. You reach for your belongings, but Mingi already grabbed them for you, your jacket and purse in his hand as he steps out of the car. You rolled your eyes at him and watched as he ran around the car to open the door for you. 

“I’m perfectly capable of opening the door,” you snickered.

“Hey, let me be the gentleman I am.” 

“You just want pussy.” 

Mingi fights back a little; he wasn’t expecting you to say something so straightforward. He closed the door, feeling heat creep up on his cheeks. Thank God it was dark out so you couldn’t see him blush.

“That’s not...” he says quietly. 

He was brought back to his senses when you walked past him. There was a sly smirk on your face; shy Mingi was always so cute; you just don’t get to see it often. Mingi catches up to you when you stop at the front door, keys jingling as you turn the lock. 

You both step in, placing your belongings down and slipping off your shoes. Almost immediately, you felt Mingi’s hands on your waist, pulling you close to him. You let out a small yelp, smiling up at Mingi, who towered over your figure.

“Hey, let me breathe first. I just got home,” you chuckle.

“Can’t wait.”

He leans down to place kisses on your neck. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his eagerness, and you push him away slightly. He shoots you a small pout when you reject him, and you coo internally at his expression, reaching up to pinch his cheek. 

“Down boy,” you joke. 

Mingi reluctantly pulls his arms off you with a huff. He walks over to the couch and plops down on it, sulking like a puppy who just got scolded. You laugh at his behavior, walking to him and cupping his jaw.

“I’m going to go shower, then you can have all my attention.”

His head perks up at your words, and a smirk widens on his face. 

“Can I join?” 

“No Mingi. Just be good and wait okay.”

His body slumps at your words. A strange feeling crashed over him when you told him to be good; he had no choice but to give in. 

“Don’t keep me waiting too long then.” 

“I’ll be quick; don’t worry.”

You ruffle his hair before walking away, swaying your hips more than usual. Mingi watched you intently, admiring your figure. Once you were out of sight, he let out a sigh, falling back on the couch. 

“Damn tease,” he whispered to himself. 

He picked up his phone in an attempt to find some kind of entertainment. He opened the Twitter app and was immediately met with porn videos. He forgot to switch back to his regular account again; he really needed to get out of that habit. He looked through his DM's  and noticed an unopened message from the buyer of the video you helped Mingi film. He smiled at the message after reading it.

“This was hotttt😍 correct me if I’m wrong, but it looks like someone helped you film this?? If that’s the case, I think you should film more with them; I’m sure others would love to see it (I know I will).💋”

Film more with them? Mingi likes the sound of that. He’s always fantasized about recording you while you both fucked, maybe even posting it if you allowed it. But he was always too nervous to ask, afraid that might scare you away.

After a few minutes, you finally get out of the shower. When you walked back in the living room now wearing sleep shorts and a black spaghetti strap top, Mingi (unashamedly) checked you out. He couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face when he saw you. 

“I’m back, did you miss me?”

“Yes, very much,” he says without taking his eyes off your hips. 

You walk past Mingi, sitting on the couch next to him while his eyes stayed glued to you the whole time. You kick your feet up on the couch, getting comfortable and trying to ignore Mingi’s hard gaze. You reach forward to grab the remote and turn the TV on. 

“You know you never answered my question from earlier,” Mingi said.

“What question?”

“If I should post the picture or not.”

You think back at the nude. Mingi sent you when you were out with San. You glared at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Oh my bad for not answering when you sent me a dick picture in public.” 

Mingi smiled, feeling pleased with himself. He leans back, hands resting behind his head.

“You’re not giving me feedback.”

You roll your eyes at him, fighting back a smile. God, you wanted to shove him down on the couch and sit on his face; that way he wouldn’t be able to give you that smug look. 

"Yes, post it. it’s really hot.” 

You turn back to the TV, scrolling through to pick something to watch. Mingi’s smirk widens; he looks down at you, admiring your pretty thighs. 

“Hot? Did it turn you on?”

He reached down, grazing the soft, supple skin. You allowed Mingi to touch you, still scrolling the TV and failing to find something to watch. You give up, setting the remote down and turning to Mingi. 

“What are you going to do if I say yes?”

He leans in closer, hiding his face in your neck as he takes in your scent. He always loved the smell of your body wash; it drove him crazy. He grazed his teeth against your earlobe, sucking it gently. 

“Whatever you want me to do,” he whispers. 

You giggle softly, pulling his face up to place a soft kiss on his lips. Ever since you and Mingi slept together that one night, you both have been thirsty for each other every second of the day. Don’t get it twisted, you were the same friends you were before… just friends that flirt...and  kiss... and fuck. (That’s normal though, right? Haha…)

You told yourself you wouldn’t think much of it and just go with the flow. You and Mingi both kind of agreed to do that. Neither of you wanted to possibly make each other uncomfortable, so you guys just let things happen without looking into it too deeply.

Mingi hummed in the kiss, moving his hand up to grip your waist. He pulls you closer, the kiss deepening and becoming more passionate. You push him away when you feel Mingi try to pull you on his lap, leaving him wanting more. His eyes flutter open, letting out a small sigh. 

“So how is your porn stuff going?”

You stay close to Mingi, resting your head on your hand while studying his features. Mingi leans back on the couch, though his hands never leave your body. He pushed his hair back, trying to control the rapid beating of his heart before speaking. 

“It’s pretty good. Honestly, I’ve been getting more recognition recently.”

“Oh yeah? That’s great.”

You gently nudge Mingi’s shoulder, proud to hear the good news. 

“I’m not surprised; your videos are so hot, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your friend.”

Mingi smirked at your words, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and playing with a lock of your hair. 

“Yeah? Which video have you been touching yourself too?”

You shoot him a playful glare, making Mingi laugh to himself.

“Don’t make me take back my compliment.” 

“I’m just messing with you. I hope you know your opinion is very valid to me.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. You fiddle with the necklace resting around Mingi’s neck before replying.

“I really like the video of you humping the pillow.”

Mingi bites his lip; the thought of you touching yourself to his videos makes his stomach churn. He honestly fantasizes about it a lot; he always comes the fastest when thinking about it. 

“Really? Well, I’ll make sure to film more of those.” 

You roll your eyes, leaning closer and resting your head on Mingi’s shoulder. He runs his fingers through your hair, pushing the strands behind your ear. 

“Do other people hit you up asking to “collaborate” or whatever? I don’t know what you call it.” 

Mingi chuckles, shaking his head.

“I mean, yeah, there are a few mutuals of mine who DM me. But I don’t like the thought of fucking just anyone. I don’t care if other people do it because it is for work, but I don’t know... I prefer to do it with people I care about. Like you.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words. A strange wave of relief courses through your body at his response. You decide to brush off the feeling, looking up at Mingi and poking his chest.

"Awww, you care about me.” 

“Of course I do you idiot.”

Mingi smiles, resting his cheek on top of your head. You hum, feeling a sense of warmth at his actions and mindlessly drawing shapes on his chest. Mingi suddenly remembered something he wanted to show you, then pulls away a bit as he speaks up.

“Oh, look at this message I got.” 

He pulls out his phone, showing you the message from the buyer. You smile, raising your brows while reading it. 

“Film more with me? What an interesting request.” 

"Yeah, right,” he chuckled nervously.

“I’m glad they liked it. I’ve watched the video myself, and it was so hot. Even though I’m the one in it, it’s hot knowing that you’re holding the camera.” 

He shoved his phone back in his pocket after you handed it to him. You weren’t going to lie; you have previously thought about what it would be like to be in one of Mingi’s videos. Of course you never mentioned it to him; you were just nervous. But the more you scrolled through Mingi’s and other people’s accounts, your curiosity grew stronger. Maybe this was a sign?

Mingi noticed the way you started to get lost in thought. He leaned down, curiously trying to meet your gaze. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

You snapped your attention back at Mingi. You stared into his brown eyes; in this moment, you decided to speak up. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? 

“Just thinking… I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”

Mingi raised his brows, his eyes widening a bit. He shifted in his seat, moving his body to fully face yours.

“Wait really? Like, you want to film with me?” 

Mingi felt his heart racing in his chest, and you smiled at how excited he looked. If he had a tail, it would be wagging like crazy right now. You nod your head, placing your hand on top of Mingi’s.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind. It sounds… fun.” 

Mingi breaks into a huge smile, pulling you in for a hug. You laugh at his reaction; he’s acting as if he won a prize. But to Mingi, that’s exactly what it felt like.

“Okay! When? Where? What do you want to do?”

“Mingi, calm.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. He shut his mouth in a closed lip smile, showing off his cute dimples. You couldn’t help yourself when you reached up to poke his cheek.

“We can do it whenever. Today even, if you don’t mind.”

"Oh, I don’t mind at all.”

You felt a strange wave of relief wash over your body. You didn’t notice how anxious you were feeling till you heard Mingi’s encouragement. He stands up off the couch, reaching his hand out for you to grab. You looked at him with a questioning expression, warily taking his hand in yours.

“What are you doing?”

He pulled you up off the couch, leading you through the house.

“We’re going to your room.”

He smiles wide, prancing through the hall and into your bedroom. You shake your head at him, finding his excitement endearing. He pushed the door open, leading you in and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

He looked up at you, eyes sparking with eagerness. You step in between his legs, running your hand through his hair. You feel Mingi wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Someone is eager,” you tease.

“You can’t blame me; do you know how many times I’ve fantasized about fucking you for content?”

You cock your head to the side, cupping his jaw and holding his face still. The act was weirdly dominant, Mingi likey. You raise a brow to give him a questioning glance. 

“Just for content?” 

Mingi’s breath hitched at your change of tone, his mouth opening and closing like a fish trying to find words. 

“Well, of course, not just for content. What I meant was... you know what I mean,” he whined. 

You giggle, leaning down to kiss his lips.

“I’m just messing with you, Mingi.”

He felt his heart swell at your soft touch. He couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes; you just looked so pretty. He wanted you to keep kissing him; he needed to taste more of your lips. 

“Alright, I think you’ve been waiting long enough. Let’s get started.” You chimed.

Mingi nods eagerly, smirking wide.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He pulls you down, causing you to let out a surprise squeal, then giggle as you settle yourself on his lap. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck as he smashes his lips on yours. You both kiss each other hungrily, his hands on your waist as you grip at his hair.

You hear him groan in the kiss when you pull at the strands; god, you loved that sound. You couldn’t help yourself when you did it again, only harder this time. Mingi let out a moan, the sound shooting straight to your core. 

You pulled his shirt, tugging the hem as a silent way of saying you wanted it off. Mingi chuckled at your actions, knowing exactly what you wanted. He pulled away for a second so he could pull his shirt off in one swift motion.

With no time to waste, he was back on you, pressing hot kisses down your neck. You let out a sigh, basking in the feeling of his lips, and guided your hands down his bare chest. He continued to lick and suck at your skin, making you let out small moans. 

“Baby, let’s lay down on the bed,” you breathed out.

Mingi nodded, reluctantly pulling himself off you and giving you one last kiss on the lips. Mingi moved up on the bed, and you followed closely behind. Crawling back on top of his body, smiling prettily down at him. His hands instinctively rest on your waist when you straddle him.

“Can I have your phone?”

“Yeah, yes,” he breathed out. 

Mingi pulled his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. You grabbed it, leaning down to kiss his lips. He entangled his hand in your hair, moaning softly when you trailed kisses down his neck. You looked up at him through your lashes when you moved further down. You pressed warm kisses down his bare chest to his stomach, slowly licking back up. 

“Fuck, I need you so bad,” he moaned breathlessly. 

You chuckled, sitting up and pulling at the buckle of his pants. 

“You’ll have me, baby, don’t worry.” 

Mingi’s hands fumbled to help you unbuckle his pants. He pulls them down for you and throws them on the floor. You turn on his phone, opening the camera app. 

“Mmm, look at you,” you say.

Mingi lay there, breath-grown, labored, and dick hard in his boxers. You can see a slight wet patch on the front. Holy fuck, you were going to devour this man.

Mingi’s dick twitched in his boxer briefs when he saw you point the camera at him. He heard the ding on the phone, your eyes fixated on Mingi’s pretty body through the screen. You reached down, your finger lightly grazing the bulge in his underwear. Mingi’s hips buck up slightly, and shiver runs down his spine.

“Look at you, such a pretty boy.”

Your voice took a tone Mingi never really heard before. It was soft yet dark; he wanted to hear more. He chuckles softly at your words, feeling a wave of desire crash over him at your praise. You run your hand up his body, making sure everything was in frame. 

“I’m pretty?” Mingi asks in a dark, seductive tone. 

You nod, humming in agreement. You slowly trace your finger down his torso, almost as though you were teasing both Mingi and the viewer. You hook your finger on the waistband of his boxers, tugging it at an agonizingly slow pace. 

Mingi huffed at your teasing hands. He knew you were putting on a show for the video, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit impatient. You felt him squirm slightly and chuckled at his behavior.

“Needy aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Mingi says softly, with a hint of a whine. 

The sound shot straight to your core, turning the ache in your pants into a throb. God, you needed to hear Mingi whine; you needed to hear him beg. Finally, you pulled the underwear all the way down; his hard length springs up. You giggle softly, cooing at the sight. 

You don’t know what came over you, but you couldn’t help but want to tease Mingi. Although Mingi didn’t seem to mind much. His dick twitch at your condescending tone, making his face flush in embarrassment. 

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You grasp his length, letting a wad of spit fall down onto the tip. Slowly, you envelope his dick in your hand, pumping him up and down. Mingi moans softly, watching the way you held the phone close to your face as you recorded yourself jerking him off. The whole scene was so hot, Mingi couldn’t help but feel turned on by the thought of you recording him in such a vulnerable state.

The wet noises of your hand moving up and down on his dick filled the room. You moved your hand faster, watching Mingi’s expression this time. He was already looking at you, and you smiled at him. He whimpered when you locked eyes, his brows furrowing as a small pout threatened to grow on his lips. 

He reached down to grip your thigh, needing to feel you in any way he could. Subconsciously, Mingi started to slowly buck his hand up into your fist. You hum at the sight, biting your lip.

“You’re such a needy boy. You want more?”

“Yes,” Mingi whimpered.

“Yes what?” 

Mingi threw his head back against the pillow, shutting his eyes closed as he felt his face grow hot. He knew what you were asking from him, but he was too shy to say it. You gripped his length tighter, stopping the movement of your hand.

Mingi whimpers loudly at the pain, body jerking and dick twitching with pleasure. 

“Yes, what?” You asked again, this time in a darker tone.

“Yes please. Please, I need more,” he whined, covering his face in embarrassment. 

You smiled wide at him, loosening the grip on his cock and jerking him faster. 

“That’s a good boy.”

Mingi moans at your praise, hips bucking up faster than before and dick twitching excitedly. You watched, feeling slightly surprised by his reaction.

“Oh? Does the big boy like to get praised?”

“Yesss,” Mingi whines. 

He gripped your thigh harder, continuing to fuck up into your hand. It was all so embarrassing yet so hot to him. Having you toy with him while you recorded. He felt like he was under your control, and fuck he loved it more than he ever thought he would. 

“Thats right, baby, fuck my hand.”

You completely still the movement of your fist, encouraging Mingi to continue to thrust into your hand. He does just that, bouncing up and down on the bed as he fucked your fist. He continued to let out whimpers and whines, feeling both ashamed and aroused by how pathetic he looked. 

You hummed in delight, making sure you got the best angle of Mingi fucking himself. You moaned softly when you saw a drip of pre-cum ooze out the tip. You pulled your hand off, making Mingi whine desperately, his hips still fucking the air looking for friction. 

You giggle softly, watching the way his dick bounced pathetically. Your fingers find their way on his slit, pulling away and watching a string of pre-cum connect to your finger and his tip.

“So wet, baby.”

You move the camera closer to his length, showing off the pretty cum dripping down his cock.

“It’s all for you,” he says quietly. 

That was your breaking point. You needed Mingi; you couldn’t wait any longer. Your pussy throbbed so much, and you felt your slick stick to the fabric of your shorts. You stopped the recording, setting the phone on the mattress and leaning down to kiss Mingi. He pushed away slightly, looking at you confused.

“Why’d you stop recording?” He breathed out.

“I can’t take it. I need to fuck you, Mingi.”

Mingi whimpered, pulling you down by the nape of your neck to smash your lips together. Your tongues danced against each other, yours exploring his mouth as he lay limp and let you use him however you like.

“Oh god, yes, please do,” he whined. 

You chuckled, pulling away to rip your shirt off. Your beautiful breast was on display for Mingi; he was mesmerized by the sight. He reached up and squeezed them; you smiled at the way his large palms enveloped your breast. 

“You’re so sexy.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his words. Mingi smiled up at you, finding your giggling cute. His hands roam down your body, sliding over your waist to your hips. You felt his large hands grip your ass through your shorts, making you bite your lip in anticipation.

“Take them off for me, Mingi.” 

Mingi smirks wide, wordlessly pulling your shorts off and down your legs. He moans softly at the sight of you; you had no underwear on, which left you completely naked sitting on top of Mingi.

"God, I need to be inside you, baby. I can’t wait any longer.”

You completely sit down on him, your warm, wet pussy pressed against the underside of his cock. Mingi furrows his brows and grips your hips tightly. You began to rock your hips back and forth, your wetness leaving a glistening trail on Mingi, and he moans softly.

"Why are you teasing me?” he whine. 

You giggle, enjoying the feeling of your swollen clit rubbing against the head of his cock. You couldn’t help but smile at him mischievously; your hands rested on his pecks, and you grabbed the flesh beneath your palms. 

“You just look so cute... whining for me,” you say breathlessly. 

Mingi pushes his head back against the pillow; he was so turned on he needed to feel you already. You glance at Mingi’s phone laying on the bed beside him. He followed your gaze and smirked; he knew exactly what you wanted. He picked it up, opened the camera app, and pressed record. 

You lifted your hips a bit, taking his hard length and aligning it with your sopping hole. Mingi watched through the phone, moaning loudly when you sunk down on his cock. Your hands rested on his stomach, clawing at the skin beneath. 

“Fuckkk,” he moans. 

You moan breathlessly, moving your hips up and down slowly. You already felt your legs start to tremble at the feeling of Mingi filling you up. 

“You fill me up perfectly, baby. Show them how pretty your dick looks sliding inside me.”

Mingi groans at your words, moving the camera closer to you pussy sucking up Mingi’s dick effortlessly. You kept a slow, steady pace; you were so wet you could hear the squelching noises coming from your pussy. Mingi bites his lip, pulling the camera away to show off your pretty body while grabbing your hip with his free hand. 

“Baby,” you said breathlessly.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me.”

Mingi moans at your words, you didn’t have to tell him twice. He planted his feet flat on the bed and thrust up into you at a fast pace. You let out a yelp as intense pleasure coursed through your entire body. Skin slapping against skin as Mingi bucked up into your pussy, he was mesmerized by the way your thighs jiggled when coming contact to his pelvis. 

He held the phone in his hand tighter, groaning loudly as he fucked into you. You couldn’t help the high-pitched moans that escaped your lips; you were in pure ecstasy. And based on the way Mingi’s eyes were glued to your face, brows furrowing, and mouth agape, you could tell he felt the same way. 

“Fuck…so good. Your pussy is so good.”

You moan at his praise, looking down at the phone that was pointed toward you. You felt so vulnerable, and the thought that other people will be watching this video, jacking off to Mingi fucking you, drove you crazy. 

Mingi’s hips stopped when the burn in his abdomen became too much to bear and he panted heavily trying to catch his breath. You decided to give Mingi some time to rest and reached behind you. You planted your hands on Mingi’s thighs and lifted your knees up till your feet rested on the mattress.

“You did so good. I’m gonna fuck you now, okay, baby.”

Mingi whined when he watched you change positions and nodded eagerly. 

“Okay.” 

With the new position you put yourself in, your pussy was on full display for Mingi and the camera. You rocked your hips up and down, your tits bouncing with your movements. Mingi moans louder, watching intently at the way his dick disappeared in your hole. He was trying so hard not to drop the phone in his hand, wanting to capture this moment forever. 

With the new view, Mingi found himself getting closer to his release. Watching you bounce on his cock was just too intoxicating.

“I’m close, baby.”

“Just a little longer, okay? I’m almost there.”

Mingi’s hand gripped tightly to your thigh, sliding up till his thumb pressed against your clit. You whined at the feeling, legs trembling when he rubbed circles on the sensitive nub.

“Yes yes. Keep doing that, baby. Fuck, I’m close.”

“Cum on my cock, please. I need it.”

Your nails dug into Mingi’s thighs, legs almost giving out when you came on his dick. You clenched so hard around him as your hips stuttered. Mingi’s eyes rolled in the back of his head as he tried with all his might not to cum inside. Now that's a good boy.

You pulled off him, his dick slipping out and hot streams of cum shot out to cover his stomach. You watched with a sly smirk, reaching down to jerk him off. 

“Fuck!”

Mingi’s body trembled from his intense orgasm, some even landing on his chest and neck. You giggle, and when you notice him coming down from his high, you slow the pace of your hand, not wanting to overstimulate him. You grab the phone from him (surprised he didn’t drop it at this point) and point the camera closer to his cum-covered body.

"Mmm, you see that. What a messy boy.” 

You both pant heavily. Mingi chuckled breathlessly at your words, looking down at his body. You stopped the recording, setting the phone down on the bed. You both smiled at each other, Mingi reaching up to cup your face. 

“Can’t wait to watch that later,” you smirk. 

Mingi rolls his eyes, laughing breathlessly. He pulled you closer and pressed a soft kiss on your nose. You rested your elbows on either side of his head while staring into his pretty brown eyes.

“That was so fucking hot. I didn’t know I was the submissive type, but damn, we need to explore that more.” 

You laugh heartily, kissing Mingi’s cheek before speaking. 

"Yes, we do. I swear I almost started running laps whenever you begged for me.” 

“I folded when you called me a good boy.” 

You and Mingi couldn’t help the funny comments. Maybe it was weird that you were cracking jokes after getting dicked down by your best friend, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You pull away, sighing and looking down at the cum that smeared on your body. 

“Now I have to take another shower.”

Mingi laughs at your words, running his hands up and down your sides. He looks up at you with pleading eyes before asking in a hopeful tone.

“Can I join you this time?” 

You decide to throw him a bone, smiling down at him and nodding.

“Yes Mingi. Come on.”

Mingi exclaimed in excitement, picking you up effortlessly and taking you to the bathroom. You squeal when he throws you over his shoulder, and you smack the small of his back.

“Hey, warning next time you decide to manhandle me.”

“No time, must take you to the shower.”

“How do you still have this much energy after what we did?”

————————————————————————

“Ugh, dammit.” 

You lean back in your chair when you see the red letter pop up on your computer screen. 

‘You died’

“Why is this level so hard?” 

Your mumble to yourself. You hear your phone notification go off and light up next to your keyboard. You pick it up and smile to see a message from Mingi. 

Princess Mingi: HELLO!? LOOK AT HOW MANY LIKES OUR VIDEO HAS 

(attached image)

Your eyes bulge out of your head after seeing the screenshot Mingi sent you. 

You: 72k?!? WHAT??

Princess Mingi: This is literally my most liked video. People love you, they think you're hot and want to know if you have an account. 

You couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at the thought of people wanting to see more of you. Maybe you should dabble into this kind of work. You were pulled out of your thoughts when another ping rang from your phone. 

Princess Mingi: You should say fuck it and join the sex work community. I think you will do very well.

Princess Mingi: I’ll be your first subscriber ;)

You: I’ll block you before you can find my account 

Princess Mingi: Hey :( you wouldn’t do that to your good boy, would you? :(((

You: Yes.

You giggle to yourself after teasing Mingi. It was just so fun. He sent another message, and your giggles immediately die down when you see the image.

Princess Mingi: (attached image)

What about now? :)

You: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT SENDING ME YOUR DICK

Princess Mingi: YOU SAID NOT TO DO IT WHEN YOURE IN PUBLIC. I KNOW YOURE NOT 

You: WELL NOW IM HORNY AND ALL ALONE

Mingi doesn’t reply back and you see the little ‘read’ text under your message. You furrow your brow in confusion, that bitch, leaving you on read. You set you phone down and turn your attention back to your game on the screen.

After a few minutes, Mingi never replied back. Thats weird. You decide to text him again, he never leaves you on read. 

You: Hey, are you alive?

You were surprised when you saw the three dots appear pretty quickly. 

Princess Mingi: I’m here. Open your door :)

You stare blankly at the phone screen, sitting there dumbfounded. You’re brought back to reality when you hear a honk outside your house. You peak through your window and see Mingi walking out the car and up to your front door. That little shit. 

You: No, stay outside and freeze. 

Princess Mingi: Please let me in :(

You: Why should I? 

Princess Mingi: So I can fuck you good again :) 

You dropped your phone and ran to the front door. Well, it was too cold for him to stay out there all alone. 

————————————————————————

You bite your lip while holding your phone in your hand. 

"Ugh, fuck it.” 

You posted your first nude photo; it was a simple mirror picture of you were in your underwear sitting on your bed topless. You throw your phone on the mattress, feeling nervous yet excited at the same time. You finally did it, you made your own Twitter account. 

After looking at the video you and Mingi recorded for his account, you decided to give in and give the people what they wanted. After a few minutes of pacing around, you pick up your phone to check if anyone has liked your photo yet. You already started getting some likes and a few comments.

You get a notification and press on it immediately. 

‘Sir Min started following you’

You smile to yourself when you read the notification. Of course, Mingi was the first to follow you. You had already told him you were doing it, but you didn’t take into account that he was waiting for you to make your first post this whole time. You get a DM from Mingi, smirking to yourself when reading it.

Sir Min: You look hot, baby. Can’t wait to fuck you more “for content” ;)

~

Tags: @chicksmoothie @wisejudgedragonhairdo @autieofthevalley @breadpuddingboys @pancake-freckle @nanicjj @yunhofingers @cherr-heekisses

[uncookedfeeler]

Cok's adventure II 🐙

Giselle x You

Tags : 7k5, Idol Giselle, story, smut, creature kink, anal, creampie, oral, breed, domination, ...

Part 1 Part 3

As the night goes on, the sirens of police and emergency services are still ringing in the city, where journalists are now swarming around the building, trying to get as much information as possible. Giselle is waiting for her manager to arrive in a café a couple of blocks away. She's put her bags and package at her feet and is enjoying a vanilla cappuccino. She can hear the TV not far away, with a live report from a journalist covering the accident:

"This is Jin, a reporter for K-News." The mall just had its last customers leave. There was a loud noise nearby, and a huge cloud of smoke was still coming from the building. We don't have all the details yet, but we'll do our best to get them to you as soon as we can. We've been told that the emergency services are still refusing our interviews. Are they trying to cover something up? The journalist kept going with his report, even though she was there at the scene, the situation had happened so fast, and she didn't know any more than he did.

Giselle notices her phone is vibrating in her pocket. She checks her screen and sees several missed calls from Karina, plus a notification in their chat.

She knew she could count on her members when she got home, and they'd reached out with some comforting messages. However, her tough-girl image was starting to show some cracks. The day had been long and stressful, and she was feeling the effects. Giselle's mood has taken a bit of a turn for the worse. She used to enjoy her freedom and her little adventures on her own, but now she wishes she hadn't gone out today.

She looks relieved when she sees her manager come into the café. He comes over to get her bags, and Giselle, feeling a bit embarrassed, heads for the exit. She feels her manager's hand rubbing her back as a gesture of kindness.

The night is now more aggressive, sending waves of cold wind across the city and blowing Giselle's hair around. The cold air hits her face, still covered in makeup. She picked up the pace, eager to get to the car and find some shelter. She notices the lights on her manager's car are blinking, indicating it's unlocked. She puts her hand on the back door handle, tosses her purse into the middle seat, and gets in, fastening her seatbelt as she goes. She's eager to get home.

She hears the trunk open and her manager say, "Let me drop off your stuff, and we'll get going." "I'll be as quick as I can." The man's voice is reassuring. He puts the bags and package one behind the other, then runs over to the driver's seat.

You've been stuck in this black box for a while now, even though you can't see anything and your tentacles are all tangled up. You're calm and thinking about the best way to get out. You feel the vibrations of the ride and wait helplessly for what's to come.

The ride home is as quiet as a church. Giselle looks out the window and enjoys the light show. The manager, despite his best efforts, would rather focus on the road. He knows the member will find the right words. 

Once parked in the underground lot, the way to the dormitory is the same. Giselle leads the way, and her manager is busy with shopping. They get to a big white door. She opens the black box on the side, enters the 4-digit code, then closes it. You hear a small validation sound, and the lock releases. Giselle goes in first. She takes off her shoes, and her manager leaves her stuff at the entrance before heading back to the elevator. "Good night, Giselle. See you tomorrow. You've got the day off, so make the most of it!" he says after completing his mission. She quickly turns to thank him, a big smile on her face.

Now that she was barefoot, she put her shoes back where they belonged and opened the door to the main room. There she finds Karina sitting on the sofa and Ninging's body, clearly unconscious from exhaustion. The leader takes the initiative and comes to hug her, like a mother would comfort her child after a difficult event.

There's no need to say anything. Both women enjoy the moment of silence. Karina is relieved to see that her colleague is unharmed. Giselle is happy to be home. They spent a good two minutes rubbing each other's backs before they heard Winter come back from the doorway.

"The food is here!" the young girl announces, her hands full of plastic bags. She'd gone downstairs a while before Giselle got there to start cooking dinner. Karina and Winter get the food ready while Giselle takes her things back to her room. She quickly put her stuff away and went back to the living room. Ningning was brought back to life successfully when the young woman caught a smell of food filling her nostrils.

After dinner, the girls enjoyed the food and Giselle's spirits lifted for a moment. She was able to forget what had happened that day. It was well past midnight, and the girls were heading to their rooms to get some rest.

Speaking of privacy, when Giselle returns to her room, she decides to change into her pajamas. She removes her clothes, including her underwear, and puts on a long white t-shirt that reaches to her knees. Her two large mounds hug the shape of the clothing, and her anal plug is still firmly lodged in her small asshole. 

Now she turns her attention to the package that caused her so much trouble. She grabs the scissors on her desk and begins to open it with a vertical motion. As the employee said, the package has already been opened, so there are only a few pieces of tape holding it in place.

You've finally had a chance to see the light. The room is warm and bright, and the light hits your eyes. You catch a hint of a sweet smell as it wafts in towards your nostrils. You come face to face with a human with black hair, big brown eyes, and perfect skin. Her lips are painted a pretty pink, and her skin is white like the flash of a light. As soon as you lock eyes, you freeze, suddenly aware of where you are. It's likely that the Humans have already killed one of your own, and there's no reason to believe they won't do the same to you.

"Wow, so cute" Giselle says as she looks at you and quickly picks you up to put you on the ground keeping her eyes on you the whole time. She had a pretty good idea of what to expect from an octopus and never thought she'd get such a pretty toy. Octopuses aren't the most attractive creatures, but when she sees your little round head, black eyes, and mouth, she can't help but think of you as a little puppy.

She opens it by touching your tentacles. Much to her surprise, she feels your warmth in her hands. The gelatinous yet firm feeling is pretty addictive. She places her fingers on your suction cups and feels how strong they are. The pleasure of touching you now makes her feel good, so she puts her lips on your head, and you don't seem to mind. Instead, she follows up with a quick flick of her tongue, releasing a sweet but not unpleasant taste into her mouth. 

She starts by putting two of your tentacles in her mouth. The contact of her lips and tongue makes you quiver inside. The sensation of moisture at your tips is a pleasure you've never experienced before. Then you feel more tentacles on her warm body. Soon you're completely used by the human.

You're still immobile, and you're starting to worry about the attacks on your body. The fact that she's started putting her lips on you and even biting your head makes you think she's going to eat you. Then you feel your body being lifted and you land in a soft, comfortable place.

Giselle has taken the liberty of placing you on her bed. "I think it must be hidden over there," she says, peering between your tentacles. She notices a crack and gets really concerned. "What?" "I can't believe they sent me the female model!" She starts to touch your "bottom." 

"What on earth is this person doing? Why is she putting her hands so close to...?" 

Your excitement causes your penis to jerk out from between your tentacles. You feel vibrations running from the middle to the tip of your tentacles.

"Oh my, that looks so much like the real thing!" Giselle's eyes widen and she blushes. She's got the penis of a space creature in front of her, and she has no idea. She uses her hand as a measuring tool and assesses it with interest. "Oh my goodness!" "It's probably going to reach my uterus with ease."

Things have escalated quickly. Just a few moments ago, you thought you were in serious danger. Now, a human has just pulled your dick. You feel her breath on the tip. You're frozen in place, realizing what's going on. You don't see the human, but you get a few jolts and a sensation of moisture around your cock. It touches something that looks like a tentacle. It's itchy, and the heat and moisture of your cock make you feel warm and relaxed.

Giselle had taken your cock in her mouth without you noticing. She started with gentle kisses on the tip and then took the length into her mouth. Her tongue traced the length of your shaft, tasting the natural flavor of your arousal. Giselle gave it her all, already reaching for her pussy, naked as could be.

Giselle inserts a finger into her wet little hole and forces her ass to move her butt plug, determined to get her satisfaction. It's a great feeling to have both holes taken care of. She keeps going with your cock, and thick drops of saliva stick to it.

On the other hand, you found the pleasure increasingly difficult to bear. You never thought something like this could happen in your life. You felt the human's hands take your tentacles and wrap them in two spheres of flesh. She squeezes your tentacles with her hands, and you hear her moan. One of your tentacles is pulled to the ground before you feel a sticky warmth at the tip.

Giselle was letting off some steam after a long day. She'd wrapped her toy cock around both of her breasts. Her previous sucking had made the shaft quite slimy, which helped as she massaged the cock while licking the tip hungrily. One of the tentacles kept going into her pussy. She could feel the suction of the cups peeling her walls back, and a nasty stain had appeared on the floor. The room was getting warmer as Giselle pressed her breasts against your cock, making sure to put more saliva on your length. She dropped to her knees and jumped up a few times, feeling the tentacles breaking into her hungry little pink pussy.

The pleasure was overwhelming. You felt like you were floating on a cloud, and you released your cum without knowing where it would land. You automatically grabbed Giselle's head, pulling her closer. Your penis hit a wall that you couldn't identify. Giselle is taken aback when she suddenly sees the cock piercing her throat, her breasts squeezed between her and her toy, her pussy sweating warmly, leaving an incessant liquid on the floor. The pleasure is too sudden, and her body tenses before she drowns in her orgasm. She feels the spasms of her body travel as long as she is held by the creature.

You know you messed up. You've kept a poker face the whole time, but you can't help but feel pleasure. Once you've let go of the human's head, though your cock is still hard, you straighten up to face her.

Giselle was caught off guard by the taste and smell of the substance, and before she knew it, she'd swallowed some of it. She sensed that something was amiss. No toy is designed to trap its user in this way. She backed away from the bed, cum all over her face, and a feeling of dread hit her as she came into contact with her new "toy."

She was at a loss as to how to react. There was an octopus on her bed, standing upright with a terrified look on its face. The tentacles were almost touching her face, as if to protect themselves. She stood there for a few minutes, naked, her face covered in cum, her breasts reddened, and her pussy hot and lubricated. 

You're standing in front of the human, ready to defend yourself if you need to. You don't speak their language and you're not sure where you are. Your only option for survival is to escape, but you know you're trapped in this room without looking. Then, right in the middle of your confusion, the human reaches out to you. Her expression is firm but not threatening. If you were in her shoes, you'd probably use your advantage, but the human doesn't seem to be going down that route. You're not sure what her gesture means, but you extend one of your tentacles toward her and make contact, aware of the risks if she catches you.

(Yes this image exist for some reason)

Your eyes are still locked together. You can feel the softness of her hand on your tentacle, then she gently applies pressure to bind you, moving up and down. She smiles and lets go of your tentacle to come over to the bed. She's just a few inches away from you. Her body blocks the light from the ceiling. You slowly bring your tentacles towards you, being careful not to make any sudden movements.

She's trying to communicate. You hear her say "Gis-elle" while pointing at her face with her hand. This isn't the first time you've come across other species that can speak. You know that people have names, and through repeated movements and words, you've come to understand that her name is "Giselle." You also try to imitate Giselle's gestures: "Cok, cok, cok." You do this a few more times, pointing your tentacles at your face.

Giselle, on the other hand, quickly realized that your name was Cok. "What am I going to do with you now?" "You don't look like the octopus I see at the market sometimes, and the fact that you can talk doesn't make my job any easier." "You just played a dirty trick on me. My body is stained with your semen, so I guess a shower is necessary now. Don't worry, water shouldn't scare you." 

You don't understand what Giselle is saying, but she comes closer and picks you up before putting you back in her bag. Once again, you find yourself in a dark place, your erection notwithstanding. You always hope that nothing will happen to you.

Giselle, who has put her T-shirt back on, opens her bedroom door with her bag under her arm and heads to the bathroom. She makes sure the room is empty before opening her bag.

You feel Giselle's hands emerge from the darkness, and you discover a new environment that's even brighter than the last one. Even though you don't understand a word she's saying, she still gives you a quick overview of the place. "Welcome to our bathroom. Across from us is a shower and a jacuzzi. The sinks are to your left. "You'll find our toilets tucked away to the right." She goes over everything in the bathroom and points. You follow her with your eyes, even though you're still a bit confused.

She puts you down by the sink, and you watch as she tosses your semen-soaked t-shirt into a bucket. Then she heads over to the spot she calls the "Jacuzzi" and bends over to turn on the water, showing you her butt plug she left at "home" along the way. She gives you a signal to follow her by pointing at you as she steps into the jacuzzi. As you crawl towards her and finally plunge into the water, a haze of warmth fills the room.

"Ah, that feels good," she says with a smile. You have to agree; the sensation of swimming in this warm water is very pleasant. You see her look at you and smile, and you feel her hand on her head as she rubs it gently. 

You notice Giselle looking at you and feel her feet rubbing against your leg. Each time she makes contact, she immediately pulls her foot back, but she keeps coming back for more. She gives a little smile that you can't miss. "mhh-hhh" You hear her making little whimpering sounds, and it's your turn to gently caress her toes, making sure to get your tentacles between each one. Her toes are clinging to you, and you're not sure what her hands are doing. 

You then dip your head into the water and watch in surprise as two tiny fingers rub against her pretty pussy. You see them go into her body and then immediately come back out again. She speeds up the rhythm, and you realize you're no longer feeling pressure on your tentacles. This allows you to move up her legs as you bring your head closer to her perfectly smooth pussy, which is just a few inches away from your face.

"Not so sweet so fast my dear, let me savor you first" You see her suddenly stand up and lean towards you, her breasts right in front of you, her nipples still hard. Up close, you realize how beautiful they are. She spreads her legs while bending her knees and comes to lay her dirty pussy on your head. She rubs lightly against you and continues to pound her cunt with her fingers. "Oh, ah, I'm coming," Giselle says. A bit more pressure is applied to your skull, with her slit rubbing against you as her fingers play with her little clit above the entrance.

Her legs suddenly spasm, and you feel a rush of water hit your head and body. It's clear that the source is her red, quivering pussy. "Wow, that feels great," she says, her eyes full of desire. She's now sitting up, her legs feeling a bit wobbly. She's aware of what she's doing and the show she's putting on, and she sees your hard cock. She wants to use her toy right now, too. She's so caught up in her ecstasy that she doesn't care what you look like. She just wants a good fuck to bring her back to earth.

Giselle puts her hands behind her back and hears a "poc" as she removes her toy from her ass. You can see her face twitch with pleasure as she takes her partner out of her hole and places him in a small bowl next to the jacuzzi. She turns around to show you her backside, and you get a close-up of her freshly spread ass and her little pussy, still waiting to be loved. She uses her left hand to spread her hole, revealing all of her warm flesh as she points at the entrance repeatedly.

You can tell when a female is in heat, no matter what species. Giselle is releasing pheromones that indicate she's ready for male attention. That's all she needs, and without further ado, you make a swim towards her, climb up her legs and point your rod at her backside. Your tentacles squeeze her buttocks while you linger on both of her breasts. Not content with this lack of attention, the last one goes to her mouth, which you don't fail to penetrate. You're there, in possession of a human body, ready to fill her with your entire being.

"Cok cok cok cok cok" you hear your name as you tease her by rubbing your cock against her entrance, but this was a mistake. Giselle, who takes your cock in her hand and puts it in her ass herself, screams as you come hard against her ass. “Ohhh fuck, it’s big” Giselle's insides are warm and welcoming around your cock as you thrust into her ass. You start thrusting back and forth, harder and harder. ��Mhhh-mhh more” she cries, your combined movements cause the water to shake as you satisfy your new mistress. You feel her tongue around your tentacle, trying to give you the best suck she can. You also pinch her breasts while playing with her nipples. You give her an ass-slapping rhythm to match her bouncing buttocks.

"More, more, more!" Giselle moans, lost in pleasure. She reverts to a simple primate, in need of pleasure. Her head is thrown back as you grab her hair and pull her towards you. The force of your bodies hitting each other leaves red marks on her buttocks. You move on to her stiff breasts and push into her still-wet pussy with a sharp thrust. Giselle ends up being double penetrated.

The noise in the room is getting louder by the second, and Giselle is losing all her self-control. She's on her hands and knees, her breasts pressed against the edge of the jacuzzi. She's being mistreated by her new toy; You don't let go, every time you pull her hair, she tightens around your cock: "Harder, hurt me, baby". She gives everything, the frenzy of your bodies increases, the heat in the room is at its peak. Her ass has become your sheath and your masculinity belongs to her.

While you ravage her ass, your tentacles take care of her dripping pussy, you come slamming against these walls while repeating circular movements, the tips are compressed to the extreme, this bitch has cum several times already, when you remove your tentacles, her fluid explodes from her slit before going back in again and again.

The thrusts are getting stronger and stronger as you feel the release coming. Her pussy fills the water again, and you feel Giselle's body go in one last thrust. Then you grab her hair in two spots and thrust as far as you can into her. You feel immense pleasure as you release all your cum into her conquered hole.

As you let go of her hair, you fall backwards, hitting the water with a small splash. When you return to the surface, Giselle is still in the same position, looking like she's waiting for anything to happen. You can see your cum coming out of her ass and sliding down her body, and her little pussy is lightly covered in your seed, which falls into the water. Your cock is now completely dry and fully retracted behind your slit.

The water is covered in semen and Giselle's wetness as they float on the surface of the jacuzzi. You hear her ass spew your cum in waves with obscene noises, then Giselle turns around, her arms slumped on the side of the jacuzzi. Her hair is a mess, and her body is covered with the marks left by your lovemaking.

You can't see Giselle's eyes, hidden by her hair, and you're waiting for her next reaction. You stand there staring at each other in an awkward silence. It's not forever, though, because you hear a knock on the door. "Giselle, I need to use the toilet," you hear her say. Of course, you can't understand, but you quickly grasp the situation when you see Giselle's panic-stricken face. 

"I'll be ready in two minutes. I'll just rinse off and get out," says Giselle, taken aback. As she presses the button to drain the water from the Jacuzzi, she grabs you by the tentacles and heads for the shower, bumping into you on the ledge as she goes. "Don't be a princess. I've already seen you naked. I'm going to pee myself," she says as the door opens. You find yourself behind the curtain, restrained by Giselle's arms around her stomach.

You feel the hot water fall on your bodies as you're held back by Giselle. Her breasts press against your head, and you feel her breathing quicken. "You were totally fine showing me your butt plug in the dressing room, and now you're afraid I'll see you naked?" a woman says now sitting on the toilet, the sound of the shower masking that of the toilet.

“Shut up and hurry away, I'd like to dry off and...” Giselle feels your semen leaking from her ass again, which startles her. She knows the water won't cover the leaking on her leg. She looks at you and, with her hands, mimes her anus and the other finger, asking to plug it up. You use your tentacles to come and penetrate your anus and her … pussy

She's always happy to have her holes well occupied, but Giselle trembles at the presence of your tentacles inside her. Your communication still isn't perfect, but you've done what she asked. You feel the liquid trying to get out at the tip of your tentacle. Now that she's in the shower, Giselle takes the opportunity to wash her body and hair. You now stand alone at her waist with your tentacles around her, keeping the two of them warm deep in those caves. She watched Karina finish her business and leave the room after washing her hands at the sink. "Good night, Giselle," she said as she closed the door. Giselle had noticed that Karina was wearing only her panties.

The danger is now gone, so you pull your tentacles back while still holding on to Giselle. You slide down until you touch the ground, "You bastard, you've filled me well. Even my pussy hurts." Of course, she knows you don't understand. She moves her legs closer to you again, and you feel a warm liquid fall on her head. "Here, this will teach you to take me for your bitch."

Giselle had just pissed in your face. You frown and whip her lower legs with a tentacle. All the while laughing. She approaches you and rubs you with a soft ball that quickly foams. The rubbing sensation is pleasant, and Giselle works hard to rub it all over your body. Although you still can't communicate verbally, you feel like you're doing pretty well with this woman. It's hard to picture her as a threat now that she's let you take a "dominant role". Once the shower's over and she shows you how to use a hairdryer, she doesn't even put you back in her bag. She holds you in her arms at stomach level.

The quiet click of her bedroom door means you're safe again. Giselle turns down the lights in the room, the temperature is just right, and there's a nice smell of freshness from the shower. She'd changed into her pajamas, which were a loose-fitting T-shirt and pink shorts that let her lower body breathe. You stand on her bed and watch her brush her hair in front of the mirror.

Like her, you're tired from your journey. Sleep is one of your needs, unlike oxygen or food. Your body feels heavy and you sense that you're about to fall asleep. You feel a sudden motion on the bed as Giselle opens the blanket to slip into it. You're afraid of being crushed, so you shake your head no when she asks you to come closer. 

You fall asleep on the pillow next to your mistress like a little puppy. Giselle grabs one of your tentacles and inserts it into her ass. After all, she wouldn't want you to run away now. You lose consciousness, feeling a warm sensation at the tip.

.

.

Giselle starts to wake up as the sun comes through the curtains, painting shapes on the wall. She feels her limbs are pleasantly heavy, with a soft ache from the restless night spent with her unlikely new friend. She turns to her side and laughs softly. There he is, her toy, an octopus, sprawled across her pillow, his tentacles lazily dropping over the edge.

The faint sounds of footsteps and lights under her door indicated that her bandmates were still getting ready for their day's work. She was the only one with a day off; her next schedule is the following night. As she discreetly slips out of her bed, she feels your tentacle gradually withdrawing from the depths of her ass as she moves towards the door, stopping for her own pleasure along the way and taking advantage of the last few inches still inside her, she disappears from her room.

You are awakened by the light coming from Giselle's bedroom door. Your body is still resting on one of her pillows. Your tentacles are scattered all over the bed and floor. Two shadows suddenly appear in your pupils, not fully dilated. You struggle to recognize the people in front of you :"Wow, what's this, Giselle-Unni really has poor taste," a quiet voice lets out. "It's probably her new doll. Hurry, grab the tablet from the bedside table. We're going to be late."The second grumbles as she grabs the tablet herself.

As they leave the room, you can see Giselle in the distance under the hallway lights, "Giselle, when you take the tablet, remember to put it back in the living room, we need it for our challenge!" she says nothing and walks towards you, closing the door behind her.

"Good morning, sir. It looks like you slept well here," she says with a smile as the two of you are alone again. In the distance, you hear the front door slamming, which means the other humans have left.

With a flick of her wrist, she opens the curtains to let in the light, then goes to the other corner of her room to find her clothes. Her "pajamas" twirl around the room, revealing, to your surprise, her butt plug. She grabs you and carries you out of her room. You're now in what looks like the main room of her dormitory. From the height of the table, you can see your surroundings and are now at Giselle's bust height.

The silence is broken by a sound coming from Giselle's buttocks. She removes a device from it and brings it to her ear while sitting across from you.

"Yes, manager-nim..." The rest is hard to understand, since she had taken the malicious pleasure of coming to crush her two mounds on your head and caress one of your tentacles as if it were one of her strands of hair. The weight of her breasts exerts a gentle pressure on you. Her softness is a small cloud over your misery. 

In revenge, you come and squeeze her breasts through her clothes and take the time to insert one between in imitation of your big cock. Her face turns red; "In about how long?" she sighs. She pulls her clothes down to reveal her tiny nipples, which you must immediately attack with your tongue. It was already sensitive and hard in your mouth. "Mmmh, I'll w....ait for you..... then," you alternate between her nipples, one being devoured by your mouth while the other receives love from a tentacle. Her breathing stops and becomes irregular. The pleasure is intense but brief.

"See you in a minute," she says, putting her device down on the table. You had startedto get really serious, but she suddenly gets up and goes to her room, coming out with a handbag. She stares at you and says, "It's too risky to leave you here alone, we will finish this later" before shoving you into the bag with a mischievous smile on her lips.

Unlike the others, she has taken the liberty of leaving her bag open. You see a variety of sights and sounds. A spectacle of sensations unfolds before you. From time to time she turns her gaze to you, a slight smile on her lips, and you watch it interact with her own. You begin to decipher a few words and facial expressions.

The liberation comes as she puts her bag on her lap, unable to tell where you are. The close-up of her beautiful face is comforting. She brings her mouth to her bag and mumbles, "Hey stupid, I'm still wet from earlier. She pulls back and starts massaging your between-tentacles so you understand what's going on when she decides to take your tentacle out of her bag and slide it under her skirt.

You don't need her help to know what comes next: the capricious one has made sure to tuck her bag under her skirt. Your work as a miner has begun. Make your way to her watery cave. On your way to the rare loot are her panties. You rub them lovingly, already smelling the foul stain on them. It doesn't take you long to hold them up and pull them apart, while your colleagues take care of the rest.

The attack begins when you slide three of them in and feel her body vibrate. The passage is narrow and she resists you. You begin to rub violently against her walls and tickle her insides. You continue inside her until you come up against a wall. From then on it's impossible to go any further and she crushes you with a pelvic thrust. You slowly pull out of her and give way to another group of three; it becomes a game and her pussy a real amusement park.

For her part, Giselle is subjected to your repeated attacks as someone approaches: "5 more minutes and the director will see you". She takes a firm stance in front of the secretary, closing her legs as tightly as possible.

You feel her pussy tremble more and more with each thrust; you know her orgasm will be big and that it's close. Since she's in public, you're the only one who can satisfy her immediately, so your decision to step back, this slut deserves a good punishment. Without seeing her face, you can tell she's frustrated with the way she's rubbing her legs; her panties are completely soaked, not to mention where she's sitting. No doubt she's stained him with her love juice.

At Cok's mercy at this moment, Giselle takes it upon herself and is soon approached by one of her managers, she was in her company's building to talk about yesterday's incident as she was seen leaving the building when it was evacuated.She picks up her bloody bag and follows her manager to the director's office making sure to turn off your light as she closes her bag, clearly offended by your actions.You lose track of time as you fall asleep next to her.

When you regain consciousness, you're back in Giselle's room. It's as quiet as a graveyard, with the sun's rays streaming down the slope and fresh air coming in through the window. You're definitely alone in the room. You've never had a moment to yourself. Always in the company of Giselle or at the bottom of a bag... You already know the bed. You slip off the foot of the bed and fall to the floor. You slide to the center of the room and scan your surroundings again. You notice writing on the ceiling that you recognize: "6:48... 6:49 PM...".

On your right, glued to her bed, is a desk, which you climb over and find yourself in front of a book with the name GISELLE inscribed on it, as well as the technological object the other humans took this morning, but in a different color. With a simple touch, you press the object, which lights up and symbols appear. In the same way, you open the book, which seems to provide knowledge of her language, and the technological object allows you to listen to it. This is your way to learn Giselle's language, but despite your abilities, it's going to take some time.

The clock is ticking and there's still no word from Giselle. You concentrate on your task and try to assimilate as much knowledge as possible. The words make sense and your first sentences are still close to a newborn's speech. The slamming of the front door wakes you up and your instincts tell you to return to your position on Giselle's bed, motionless as a statue. In your panic, you've left the tablet and book open.

You hear footsteps approaching Giselle's room and quickly relax as the door opens to reveal her in an all-black skintight outfit. "Are you awake, you bastard? I needed to spend my nerves at the gym," she says, even though you've seen her before. Her body is truly a work of art!

Her eyes devour you completely, her walk is full of confidence, she approaches the bed and stops in front of it, her scent catches your nostrils, but it's not the scent that disturbs you, it's the "aura" she's been radiating since she entered the room.

Giselle reeks of sex, her whole body oozes those pheromones, those of a woman in heat, ready to be filled, the fact that you left her hungry earlier must have awakened her appetite and when you look at her, you know she's very hungry. Without delay, she lifts her top with her left hand, exposing her breasts and you notice the teeth marks on her nipples. Her right hand pulls down her leggings to reveal her sweet, freshly shaved pussy; a trickle of wetness still binds her slit to her clothing and her lips are scarlet red.

As she removes her top, she jumps onto the bed to take you in her arms and place your crotch on her slit, licking your body as she moves her pelvis, causing both your sexes to rub against each other. You are devoured by this lioness. 

Her breasts are pressed against your mouth and you take the opportunity to suck on her nipples. Your tentacles try to get into her ass, but it's already busy: "No, no, tonight it's all in my pussy," she says, shaking her head.

The friction between your sexes is driving your arousal into overdrive, and your penis is more than ready to come out. Your tentacles had encircled Giselle's body, squeezing you together as each gave pleasure to the other. Giselle's nipples are now marked with your mouth. You feel the tip of your penis quivering at the entrance to her pussy. The rubbing of your sexes creates wet noises that echo around the room.

Giselle can't wait any longer, her pussy needs love and her sperm bakery is more than eager to have its first customers. She lies on her back and spreads her legs, leaving full view of her hungry hole. “Come, Cok, turn me into an octopus slut,” you line up and with a quick thrust, you penetrate her vagina, while you're immediately surrounded by her legs, who intends to feel you deep inside her. “Ohhhhh, say hello to my uterus!”

Frenzy overtakes them both as Giselle wiggles, hoping to reach a deeper place, your cock like a drill inside her. Her walls envelop you tenderly as you ram her with all your might: “More, Cok, fuck meeeeeee, kiss my womb”. You wrap your tentacles around her legs, spreading them wide to give you a full view of where you're lovingly fucking her

“Cumiiiinng, ahhh” cries Giselle as the pressure around your sex sends you skyward and allows you to shoot your first well-deserved load into her. Her juices try to expel themselves from her vagina, but your big cock acts as a seal and your juices mix while hitting her lust-filled walls. “Oh ohh, so hott, your cum is burning me from the inside!, i want more seed”

Far from satisfied, she lies on her stomach to show you both her plump buttocks and the glow of her butt plug as your cum drips from her pussy. She pushes it aside and lets you admire the havoc wreaked by your cock and then with all her carnal lust she says, "Honey, come and plug my wicked leak, we have all night so make sure to fill me again and again" as she wiggles her buttocks.

At a glance, you read “9:13 PM”. Then you move towards her open hole, taking your time to let her feel your thickness. As you push back into her vagina, making contact with her uterus, she cries out in pleasure: “Ohhh, it's finally here, hit me hard, my ovary want to meet lots of your baby seeds”. You feel the perspiration on her body as you strike her ass with your tentacles. Your thrusts go further and further and your “belly” comes to touch her buttplug. Grabbing her hair, you pull her towards you and increase the pace as you feel her repeated orgasms attack your cock. You watch the juices flow out of her as you pull back before returning with a hard thrust, ready for your second load of the evening. You make sure you come to plaster your tip on her womb and, in a final strike, you grab her by the throat and rip her womb open to spill your cum. “Oh oh oh, bredd me Cok!”, you feel your cum flood her insides as some of it comes out while the other remains more stuck deep inside her baby oven.

— 9:48PM 

Giselle straddles you as you pound her bouncing breasts, your clit attacked by your tentacles as you send another load her way. Semen drips onto the bed, mixed with her fluids.

— 10:32PM 

Her screams never stop, you can see her talent as a singer. She has orgasm after orgasm, her pussy still filled with hot cum that warms the inside of her belly. You don't stop when you reach your fourth orgasm.

— 11:17PM 

Both of your exhausted bodies are still at it as she lies on her back again, each of your limbs wrapped around the other; your cock hasn't left her pussy since the orgasm, her body covered in tentacle marks and kisses. Her hard breasts are now in Giselle's mouth as she tries to suck her own milk while her cunt is served by your monstrous rod. You know there won't be another tonight, so you come with your tentacle and remove her butt plug and thrust your tentacle deep into her: "oh. .. mhh... more. breed me." Giselle is unable to form a sentence, her whole body shaking as she surrenders to the pleasure.

— 11:27PM

The front door slams as the group returns to the dorm, but you're both too busy to notice. Giselle's screams echo through her room and it's clear that she's struggling, no doubt heard throughout the apartment. Entering Giselle's room, Karina sees her lying with the blanket over her. "ah ahh, so.rry-unn.ie," she says with considerable struggle. Karina sighs. "Hurry up and finish, you start in a few hours and keep the volume down, the others can hear you like theyre watching TV," Karina says with a sigh. She slams the door. 

Meanwhile, you continued to penetrate her, Giselle's legs trembled with pleasure, she had exceeded her limits. "Cok, cok, cok, one more, I want your baby so badly, I want you to conquer my womb, make me your wife," she said, tears in her eyes, far from sadness. Her body no longer knows how to respond to these emotions, but you intend to grant her wish: your sixth charge is your last. Her walls are smooth now, each orgasm comes to squeeze you, then her pussy opens again on your cock. Your cum still drips from her as you prepare to fill her again.

— 11:59PM

As the day draws to a close, you flood Giselle's octopus oven with your cum. Her pussy has become your baby factory. After several hours of effort, you finally pull out. Just then her last orgasm arrives and a stream of juice spills onto her bed. Her cunt is wide open and you see her walls covered with your seed and her well-fed womb.

Giselle lies inert on her bed, her belly full of semen and her head full of stars. It takes her a while to find the strength to get up and look at the damage to her body and bed. As she approaches you, she places a loving kiss on your cock, tasting her own pussy juices. She comes up to you to kiss you and says, "Thanks, Daddy," while touching her belly. You reply in near perfect Korean: "You're welcome, Ms. Cok".

______________________________________________________________

🐙

[mockingkatniss]

NEED A RIDE? - drug dealer!Coriolanus Snow

18+ | nswf | mdni

warnings and tags: swearing, mention of drug dealing, smut, sloppy making out, multiple orgasms, blowjob, mention of gagging, body fluids, use of words like “wh0re” or “slu7”, specific body descriptions. BUZZCUT CORYO (little bit of a jump-scare for some of y’all) MODERN!AU, p in v sex, reader is just soft but not innocent, intese sex, porn without plot. (If I missed anything lmk).

(not proof read because I was tired, I will fix eventual errors <3)

summary: one particularly hot summer evening coryo sees you riding your bike while he’s driving he’s car around mindlessly and he ask you if you need a ride.

words count: 3.109k

Wanted to thank so so much @swiftiekisses because the drug dealer!coryo au it’s hers but she inspired me a lot and I also love so much her writing that I wanted to contribute with this fic! Also a big thanks to @euphemiaamillais because I’m literally addicted to what she writes and for inspirations for the drug dealer! au too! <3

enjoy and support me with a comment or a tiny heart! 💗🎀

coriolanus was driving by the quiet and deserted road of his god forsaken forgotten little town.

he hoped almost every morning to just wake up and found his rotten little city was torn down by some natural catastrophe.

he thought that dreams or ambitions couldn’t come true here. since his family lost everything due to his father's poor life choices, he was now stuck with poverty at 18 years and a cousin and grandmother to look after. more correctly just grandmother, since tigris left for college just the year prior.

to round some money he worked at the gas station, a literal hell hole in summer and plus coryo was sure he left part of his soul here, and sold some drugs to younger kids or kids his age at school or at parties but most of the times they directly came to the gas station.

if a drug had a name it was mostly probable that coryo had it to sell

that summer was cruel, sweat sticking to clothes and the asphalt so hot it could melt shoe soles, so cruel that coryo decided just two days ago to buzz his beautiful platinum curls off. the super short hair gave him a totally new appearance, he noticed that at the last party he went to sell, that mostly girls bought from him, stucking dollar bills inside his front jeans pocket and sometimes begging for a kiss or some good old make out. he accomplished and accepted that he was just extremely hot.

his car moaned underneath him as he drove, that old piece of garbage was still going on but coryo feared that someday he would be left walking.

it was 7:35 pm, his shift at the gas station over since sejanus plinth took his place for the night shift. sejanus was a nice kid, he was rich but decided to take another path just having shitty jobs during the summer like most teens even though for him it wasn't necessary having one. he didn’t sell drugs but he covered coryo so many times at school or at work so he was ok.

coryo had a small joint hanging from his lips as he drove, just one hand on the steering wheel and both the car’s windows opened since his ac was (obviously) broken, but even the air was heavy and warm that night.

miraculously the bluetooth radio was still working so he was listening to some trap rap music on his cracked up phone, the screen broken from everytime he made it fall while running away from cops or simply on the floor on a daily basis. as the music went on he thought about how the suggestion to listen to that genre of music came from clemensia e arachne at school, but it was nice for once not only listening to metal or punk rock.

while he took another hit from his joint something caught his eye on the road. it was a bike, someone was riding it and he probably knew who it could be.

the bike was faded pink with old stickers on it and you were riding it tiredly, legs sore and sweat sticking to your skin.

your tiny tight skirt was riding up a little showing some more of your thighs and coryo swore to god that he saw a glimpse of your pink panties.

sometimes you bought from him some weed and nothing more. you were a literal sunshine and at school you talked to everyone, being friendly and helpful. coryo still remembers how you helped him with physics the first year of highschool. you both were still young but nature obviously blessed you donating you such a sexy body.

he instantly felt his cock gently twitch into his jeans and he made the smoke from the joint exiting his nostrils in annoyance. don’t you get coryo wrong, he had sex and sure plenty of it but since the hot sticky summer he wasn’t feeling like it to just screw some girl even though he just needed to say the words. it was peculiar how his cock woke up just by seeing you.

he drove nearby you slowly to keep up with your velocity and you looked over to acknowledge the presence of a car and as you recognized the driver you smiled throughout puffed breaths from hotness and the riding.

coryo made a small smirk while pulling the joint away from his lips to talk. “hey bunny, need a ride?”. you slowly stopped your bike, tippy toes of your pink vans scratching on the asphalt. coryo stopped the car too and since the streets were dead he just got off his vehicle to look at you while positioning the almost finished joint on the car roof.

you panted lightly as you talked as you examined his presence. “it would be so nice coryo, I think I’m about to faint because of the heat”. he nodded understandingly with his head to the car behind him. “get on, I’ll get the bike” coryo thought he was going crazy when you got off the bike seat revealing more of your thighs. you collected your backpack and lifted yourself up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, strawberry lip gloss scent evident on his skin too now. “thank you coryo you’re my savior” you said before going to the opposite back of the car.

once the bike was fixed in the back he turned the car back on, securing his joint back around his lips once again while grabbing his lighter inside his jeans front pocket.

“where am I taking you?” he asked while lighting the joint to take a long drag before passing it to you. “I’m going to my dads house, it’s near the football field, 32nd house” you explained as coryo nodded knowing where it was since he spent much more time driving around in his free time than anything else. you also accepted the joint starting to smoke with relaxed muscles.

coryo looked over at you while driving, there was a peaceful silence. his elbow leaned outside the car’s window as his slim fingers tapped the steering wheel gently while driving. you noticed his rings decorating his fingers and his new buzz cut hair made his features even more sharp. you took three puffs from the joint handing him it back while caressing your naked thighs trying to pull down the miniskirt.

coryo savored till the last minute your lucid lips around the filter that he made, somehow the sweat made your skin warm and inviting, the blonde felt his cock twitch again and he fixed himself on the seat while trusting with his hips forward. he coughed a bit taking the last puff while tossing the dead joint outside the car. “how's it going in general?” you asked softly feeling already your head light but not too much, it was pleasant. “mh it’s ok, it’s too hot to work or to do anything else, I just want winter back” coryo explained briefly, voice slightly rough from smoking. you chuckled while leaning over to him to pinch his cheek softly. “awww snow wants his snow back doesn’t he?” coryo smiled while looking over to her, instinctively he turned over his face to scratch your fingers with his teeth playfully as you kept messing with him. “by the way, you look good today, bunny, but riding that bike with just this tiny skirt? a little bit dangerous don’t you think?” he asked while gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “how is it dangerous? riding my bike won’t stop me” you felt like wanting to touch him so much, so you placed your hand on his thigh. coryo was one of the hottest boys at school and his reputation made him even hotter and you were a total slut for bad boys.

at your gesture he stiffened a bit looking down at you delicately manicured hand and you kept caressing him going higher and higher but stopping just before his crotch. “can’t keep your hands to yourself now?” he tried to be ironic but just your presence had made him incredibly hard and it was difficult to not stop the car and fuck you in the back seats, your pretty head pressed into the plush of the seats. “maybe I don’t want to keep them to myself” you shrugged while pulling away your hand as he stopped the car in front of your dads house.

he exited the car while trying to hide his hard on while pulling his jeans around to crotch to fix the situation but nothing was effective. coryo pulled your bike outside the back of his car and you thanked him again while kissing his cheek but making the kiss longer. he sighed with a smirk while placing his big warm hand on your hips. you caressed his chest while looking up at him, a small pout on your lips. “you’re busy?” you asked, your long lashes batting at him inviting. “mmh no bunny, i’ll probably just go home, smoke again and collapse on my bed” his thumbs caressed your exposed skin just a little bit above your skirt. “why don’t you come inside? my dads busy he won’t be home till tomorrow noon” you swayed your hips a bit with pleading eyes. “fuck bunny you’re truly tempting but-“ you interrupted him while taking his hand, pulling him towards the house. coryo gave in, closing the car with his keys by distance and following you inside. you were making him feral with your temptations and soft eyes.

thank god the house had an ac so it was cooler inside. you tossed your shoes away together with your backpack and went to the kitchen to collect some water for you both and coryo looked around noticing how the house was elegant and well kept.

he slipped off his beaten up black combat boots and just sat on the big couch. he almost sunk inside it, noticing it was a water couch and smirked as dirty thoughts filled his head.

“the water couch is amazing isn’t it?” you giggled while handing him a glass of water while bouncing next to him making the couch move in small waves. “yeah pretty comfortable” he said as he leaned the glass to his lips not looking away from you for any second.

you then smiled mischievously while slipping down the couch, your knees sinking in the soft fluffy carpet. you positioned yourself between his legs while going for the zipper of his pants pulling it down with pure eyes. coryo almost choked on his water as he looked at you with pleased eyes and a big smirk on his lips. “what the fuck are you doing bunny?” he breathed out a laugh as you tried to pull down his pants together with his boxers. “I want to suck you off so bad so lift up your butt now” your tone was playful and demanding and he did as you said making you able to pull his jeans and boxers down making his pink cock sprung to life. it leaned against his tummy perfectly. “what did I do to deserve something like this without even asking?” he placed his hands behind his head pushing his hips up so he could sink more into the water couch. “nothing special but you’re fucking hot and I can’t wait anymore,” you paused to spit on his tip gently while pushing some curls behind your ears. “and I just know you’re good at selling as you’re good at fucking” you giggled while finally gripping his base. “I knew you were big, shit” you were already fantasizing about taking him deep and hard inside your cunt. “you knew?” coryo laughed again but his breath was getting ragged slightly.

you just didn’t respond, kitten licking his tip and collecting precum as you looked up at him. he bit his bottom lip harshly to just concentrate not to burst his cum all over your pretty glittery makeup and long lashes.

you kissed his length till the base then licking a long stripe back up till you swallowed half his cock allowing space with your tongue and cheek. you started to suck and lick and the moans he was making were pornographic.

after a while saliva was dripping down your chin mostly when you decided to deepthroat him with a fluid movement making the water couch sway gently. “ah fuck bunny, you’re so fucking good” coryo moaned, lust clouding his blue eyes as he gripped your curls to buck into your throat just two times just to hear you gag shamelessly around his cock.

you smiled through teary lashes and bubbles of saliva and lifted your head to just suck at his tip harshly.

“shit- I’m gonna come bunny” coryo announced as you jerked off the rest of his cock while concentrating on the tip. at his words you pulled away standing up and his angry cock just leaned against his tummy as he bucked into air. “are you completely mad you fucking slut?” he said impulsively, the ruined orgasm hitting something into his mind profoundly.

you just smirked while slipping off your crop top and miniskirt. “what did you just call me coryo?” you asked while undoing your bra and slipping off your soaked pink panties. his mouth was slightly agape at your naked body, eyes obsessed. “I said you’re a whore, a slut” he said slowly and challengingly, lips mimicking each final letter. “oh yeah? let this slut show you how much of a whore she is.” you walked on the couch standing above him both of your feet planted on each side of his legs making the water couch giggle.

he was completely transfixed as you opened your legs leaning one of your knees on the headset of the couch. you grabbed his head from behind pushing his mouth on your dripping core.

coryo thought about cumming just from that, just from the smell of your juices and the taste of it.

it was so intense, his tongue lapping at your folds once in a while stopping to suck on your lips or clit while humming. his big hands gripped your ass squishing the plush meat here to push his face further into you.

you were a complete mess as you scratched his head and moaned shamelessly and loudly, hips bucking as you trusted him keeping you up to not let you fall.

“fuck coryo! fuck I’m coming!” you chanted as you gripped his head, legs quivering as your juices splashed into his face. coryo felt on cloud nine as he gripped your hips to not let you fall as he lapped at your juice like the starving dog he was. dying by suffocation from your pussy seemed the only best thing he could think of at the moment.

you came down from your high slipping down as you sat on his lap, grabbing his neck to kiss him sloppily to taste yourself in his mouth. you sucked his tongue, licked the roof of his mouth and even licked his teeth while he playfully rubbed your clit. “mh! I’m sensitive-“ you lamented while pushing his hand away, your lips glistening with his saliva. “I need you inside now coryo” you gently kissed his jawline and neck while rubbing your pussy onto his still angry cock. “your wish is my demand bunny but you’re not gonna come again sooner or later” as he said so with his low voice he pushed his cock inside of your thigh pussy helping himself with his fingers and you laughed a moan while arching and sitting fully on his hard member. he immediately hit your cervix so good you felt helpless.

it was the most passionate and sloppiest sex of your entire life. you rode him like your entire existence depended on it, you knees sunk into the water couch as you bounced on his cock helped by the gentle waves. his hands were placed right on top of your ribs as your hips were too quick to control anyways. you pushed your head so hard against his that your noses squished together as your forehead and your moans and shouts tangled together. both mouths opened, eyebrows furrowed.

coryo didn’t even remember his name anymore when you clenched hard around him signaling somehow that you were close. “stupid bunny thought she could come yeah?” he murmured around a moan as he gripped hard your ass to stop your intense riding. “what the fuck coryo? don’t stop please, fuck!” you lamented but when he pushed your back into the couch your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. coryo fucked into you helplessly, his orgasm close. your back arched and he massaged your breasts cupping them harshly. “shit fuck! I’m coming” he moaned, eyes fluttering close for a minute. to make you pay he pulled out, cum splashing on your tummy and even on your breasts from the intensity of it and you cried out loud from the loss of his cock inside of you. you even laughed a bit through cries because of where his cum landed but then you gripped his ear angrily. “make me come coryo, make me fucking come” she arched rubbing her pussy against his worked out cock. coryo panted a laugh and gripped your jaw with his hand tightly before leaning over to bit and pull your lower lip. he massaged your clit with all of his hand opened while looking at you. “look at your fucked out face, you’re completely drunk on my cock” he laughed again mischievously just to degrade you. he rubbed your entire pussy quickly, slapping your clit once in a while. “now you’re gonna come and admit that only my cock can make you this fucked up mh?” you nodded, eyes rolling once in a while. “yes, yes coryo, only you, only want your cock” he chuckled again while his hand kept going. “that’s what I wanted to hear bunny” at his last words you came, the orgasm making your entire skeleton tremble in pure bliss. you cried his name with your mouth wide open.

when you calmed down a bit he was just caressing your thighs while admiring your body painted with his cum and you smiled while stretching out a bit. “next time you’re gonna come inside coryo” you said it so naturally with a small smile and a yawn and coryo playfully slapped your sensitive clit with two fingers making you whine a bit. “I'm looking forward to the next time in like, 10 minutes, bunny.”

[mattsfavoritestar]

DO RE MI, chris sturniolo

synopsis… chris finds himself stuck in a toxic one sided relationship but even after the terrible events he had to endure, he still can’t find himself to let go

warnings… toxic!reader, readers lowkey a bitch, toxic relationship, manipulation, angsty, mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of a car wreck

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

chris sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone with a sinking feeling in his stomach. your name lit up the screen, a flood of messages, just like always. but this time, he couldn’t bring himself to check them. he already knew what they said—another round of apologies, more excuses, a promise to make things right.

he let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. everything had been building up to this moment, but now that it was here, he didn’t know what to feel. just numb.

the day had started like any other—normal, calm—but that was before matt’s car. you’d borrowed it, just like you always did. and this time, the damage was impossible to ignore. you’d clipped a post in the parking lot, leaving a crack in the passenger window as well as deep scratches and dents across the side. matt had lost it when he saw it, his frustration boiling over.

“fucking unbelievable,” matt had muttered to himself, pacing back and forth in the driveway. “told him not t’trust her but no— chris wants to act like a fucking idiot”

you’d stood there, barely batting an eye, as if it was all just a minor inconvenience. “chill out,” you’d said. “it’s just a car. you can fix it. i’ll pay for the damage.”

but matt was already too far gone, his hands clenched into fists. and chris… chris had stood there, his heart sinking into his stomach as he watched you play it off like it was nothing. like you hadn’t just shattered the trust between him, his brothers, and you.

you didn’t care. you never did.

“you don’t get it, do you?” chris had said, his voice shaking with frustration. “you just don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

you’d looked at him, that familiar coldness creeping into your eyes. “you’re so dramatic. seriously, chris, it’s not the end of the world.”

but it was.

now, hours later, chris sat in his room, the silence deafening. his phone buzzed again. this time, it was a text from his bestfriend.

chris didn’t need to read more. the words cut deeper than he wanted to admit. you were out, already moving on to the next distraction, as if nothing had happened. he ran his hands over his face, feeling the weight of it all press down on him. he couldn’t take it anymore.

the club was loud, the bass vibrating in his chest as chris pushed through the crowd. everything felt distant, like he was watching it all happen from somewhere far away. there you were, as expected, the center of attention. you were leaning against the bar, laughing too loudly, too fake. some guy was standing too close, his hand resting on your waist, your fingers brushing against his.

it felt like a punch to the gut.

chris couldn’t do this anymore. his chest was tight as he forced himself to walk toward you.

“having fun?” his voice was cold, the words slipping out harsher than he intended.

you turned, a flash of surprise crossing your face before it was replaced with a practiced smile. “chris,” you said, like you hadn’t been expecting him. “what are you doing here?”

he wasn’t sure anymore. he wasn’t sure about anything.

“nate texted me,” he replied, his voice flat, barely holding it together. “and i’m guessing he wasn’t lying.”

you rolled your eyes, but there was something in the way you shifted, like you were starting to feel the cracks in the act. “god, chris. can you relax? i’m just having a drink.”

he shook his head, frustration bubbling up in his chest. “you wreck my brother’s car, talk shit about me, and then come here, flirt with random guys, get wasted, like none of it matters.”

your eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, he saw the mask slip, but it was quickly back in place. “you’re overreacting. i’m allowed to have a good time. god, you’re so exhausting, chris.”

“am i?” he snapped. “or are you just tired of people holding you accountable?”

you opened your mouth to retort, but his words hit harder than he expected. so instead, you stepped closer, your voice dropping to that tone you always used when you knew exactly how to pull him back in.

“chris, baby,” you cooed, reaching for his arm, your fingers grazing the fabric of his sleeve. “i didn’t mean to upset you. you know i love you, right?”

but it felt so wrong. every word, every gesture, it all felt manipulative now, like you were playing him again.

“do you?” his voice cracked, the doubt creeping in. “because i’m starting to wonder if you even know what that means.”

you blinked, your gaze shifting from playful to something darker, something more defensive. “you’re blowing this out of proportion. you always do this, chris. you get all worked up, and then you make me feel like i’m the bad guy. after everything we’ve been through?”

he closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of every broken promise, every lie, every time you twisted him into thinking it was his fault.

“after everything we’ve been through,” he repeated, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “all we’ve been through is you hurting me, lying to me, and making me feel like i’m the problem. i’m not doing this anymore.”

your expression faltered, and for a brief moment, chris saw the cracks. but you quickly masked it, the coldness back in your eyes.

“so that’s it?” you said, your voice low, dangerous. “you’re just going to leave me? you can’t be serious, chris.”

he stepped back, his heart hammering in his chest, the tension unbearable. but he couldn’t go back. he couldn’t keep pretending it wasn��t killing him to stay.

“i’m done,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “you don’t get it, you never will.”

he turned, the pain in his chest too much to bear, and walked out, his hands trembling. the club’s music faded behind him, but the chaos in his mind was deafening.

outside, the cool night air hit his skin, but it did nothing to numb the ache in his chest. his phone buzzed again, but he didn’t need to look. he already knew it was you, calling, texting, pleading.

but this time, chris didn’t care. not anymore.

he walked away, his steps slow, deliberate, his mind caught in the whirl of everything he had just let go. the hurt was deep, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. but as he kept walking, he knew this time was different.

he had to let go. but he couldn’t.

[pricklenettle]

Parent's Ghost

This is my fic for @ecto-implosion! I wrote it based on the art by the talented @jackalspine

The little ectoblobs are made of the emotional residue of the creatures around them like dust bunnies. The Fenton house is full of both ectoplasm and emotional residue. So what happens after Danny is injured by his parents?

WC: 4,795

AO3 link

_______

Danny walked along the power lines. Not on the ground, that was for people who liked getting doused with rain water everytime a car came by. It was way cooler strolling along, way above the headlights cutting blindly through the splintery drizzle that made this evening’s twilight so dim. Danny adroitly floated around a buzzing insulator that snapped testilly at every rain drop. He continued his stroll, placing his feet just a finger’s breadth above the black wire.

He supposed he should be grateful for the drizzle, and the quiet evening that was proof of the apparent absence of ghosts to hunt. But really, he was bored. Bored, and his brain was starting to prickle with dread as calculus equations and handwritten paragraphs echoed sinisterly in the back of his mind. The image of the homework he’d left piled in his room loomed closer over the horizon. On top was the English paper Lancer had assigned him. 

He’d written two sentences for the paper’s intro before flying out his window to patrol. So far it was disappointing him. He’d found a wisp of a ghost bear rooting around in the Nasty Burger dumpster and an old granny who wasn’t bothering anybody except the park’s population of stray cats. It was getting uncomfortably more obvious that tonight his biggest responsibility was going to be his homework. 

Danny wrinkled his face. Figures, the one night he wanted a distraction, Amity decided it was time for peaceful quiet. 

Even though he knew he should be heading home he just kept walking along the wire. He folded his arms behind his head and kept an eye upward, hoping the clouds would break up. 

It was just on the edge of too cold. The drops that hit his shoulders and head were like needling icy fingers, prodding him to go home and take cover inside six warm walls. Leave the world to the rain to whom it belonged. He stuck his tongue out at the sky and pulled his phone out of his belt pouch. 

The cracked screen pulsed unhappily at him with aberrant colors. He tilted it forward, trying to shield it from the beads of water that rolled off it with bent light. There were no new messages from Sam, but Tucker was asking about that English assignment. Danny groaned and scrubbed his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew what he should be doing, the universe knew what he should be doing, he’d cut off his toes and feed it to the resident ghost cats before he wrote one more word tonight. He locked his ankles together, drifting a little higher over the powerline while he texted back. 

“Hey, Ghost scum!” was his only warning before something exploded off to his left. The acid green light of ecto-based ammunition froze the rain in the air in a single flash. It competed and instantly won against the dim sky, lighting up the undersides of tree limbs and throwing everything into a sharp lime light. 

Danny automatically threw his hands over his face, then flew up, searching the ground through the spots in his vision for the interrupters. 

“Damn it, Mads, I missed him again,” came the only slightly quieter voice. Danny’s grin spread sharply when he spotted his mom and dad crouched behind some bushes. 

He floated tauntingly lower. “Hey, I was walking there. How’d you like it if I threw missiles at you when you were on an evening stroll?”

“I’d say you were showing off your true nature, ghost,” Jack cried, pointing a finger at him. The shiny black rubber of his gloves reflected the yellow globe of the streetlight that hummed, lonely in the rain. The single illumination of the deserted road. “An evil, mindless blob of ectoplasmic residue that’s grown too comfortable in the mortal plane.”

Danny hovered in place, daring on whatever happened next. “At least I’d be able to hit you, in that way I am pretty good.”

Maddy was scrambling to quickly reload the gun. It looked like pretty heavy artillery. It might be strong enough to blow him to pieces if the spots still dancing in his vision were anything to believe. Of course, it would have to hit him first. Lucky for him, it looked like it was going to take Maddy a while, and Danny had plenty of time to antagonize his parents. He floated lower, leaning back in the air and crossing his legs. “Don’t you two have somewhere better to be than out in the rain following an innocent ghost around?”

“No such thing,” Maddy hissed, still fighting over the guts of the big gun. 

“Menace to society you mean,” Jack shouted up.

Danny stuck his tongue out at them and raised his arms with limp wrists like the classic ghost. “Boo.”

“You won’t be saying boo when my wife reloads and splatters your ectoplasm– er,”

Maddy threw down her new rocket launcher in disgust. 

“No good, Mad’s?”

Danny looked on in utter delight as Maddie began riffling through the duffle bag at their feet. “I can’t get the damn thing to work with this rain.”

“My bad, Honey. In mark two, I’ll prioritize simplification and ease of use.”

“You can’t have everything in one gun, dear, your design is wonderful just as it is. Only a little tweaking I think.” Danny gagged overtop of them before they could get really sappy. They whipped back around, on guard again. Maddy stood up from the duffle bag this time with the net gun in her hands. She braced herself to fire. 

Danny sighed and shook his head. “You folks need to figure out when it’s time to pack up and save it for another day.” He accumulated a ball of ectoplasm between his fingers and lobbed it at Maddie’s feet. She dived to the side and came up on her knees. They locked eyes and she pulled the trigger. The net burst out with a puff of gunpowder. 

Danny flew to the side, but a corner of the net collided with his leg. The cords snapped around his boot, quickly tangling when he tried to shake it off. He grumbled, annoyed. But still, no problem. The cord was treated to be anti ghost so he couldn’t phase out, but he had a lot of energy humming in his chest that had gone unused all day long. He smiled grimly. So, they wanted to catch a ghost? This was going to be fun. He twisted around and propelled himself up above the treeline. Maddy yelped beneath him. He glanced back to see her feet were dragging in the ground and she was barely holding onto the gun over her head. He put on another burst of speed and her toes lifted off the ground. 

Jack leaped to grab it from her. He braced his feet and grunted with the strain of holding Danny earthward. She let him have it and ran back for the duffel bag. Danny wasn’t quite strong enough to lift Jack off his feet, not without phasing the big man partly out of the physical world. Danny soon found himself fighting just to stay in the air. 

Jack clung onto the rope doggedly. They both seemed pretty determined today to reel him in. No matter how he flew Jack was stubbornly holding on. As though he actually believed he and the phase-proof line could reassert the laws of gravity that Danny had gotten so used to ignoring. 

He was starting to feel a little too much like a toy kite for his liking. Careful to keep the line taut, he bent over his leg to tug at the tangled cords of the net. He was just starting to make progress, a pile of freed loops dropping to hang form his boot, when he heard a pop from below. An instant later a bolt screamed through his arm. He recoiled, grabbing his arm tight. 

The ectoplasm of his arm had been sheered away and hollowed out like a stick of butter in a microwave. Beads of ectoplasm rolled over the creases of his white gloves. 

Looked like Maddy had finally got the gun to work again.

“Hey,” he yelled down. “You missed my vital organs. For all the time you spend hunting me, I’d expect you’d at least be good at it!” He aimed down along the perfectly straight line drawn between him and his dad. As perfect as a math equation, from point a to point b. He didn’t even have to aim. 

Jack dropped backward, electric green smoldering in his orange jumpsuit. Danny buoyed up into the air, cord and gun and all. He would have gotten away then, and he was already thinking about what in hell he was going to write for his damned English paper. 

Maddy dropped the gun and leaped over Jack. She jumped for the cord before it could get away from her. Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun, jerking Danny back down. She’d pulled something out of her jumpsuit. Danny saw the flash of the Fenton Ghost Taser™ an instant before she pressed it against the taut cord. 

Danny cried out. His body instantly seized up, all his muscles vibrating, making his teeth chatter together. The searing pain that traced the path of the electricity came as a secondary thunder clap. He dropped out of the air. 

He hit the first branches like a second shock. Thousands of tiny twigs crackled under his descent. As he traveled lower he hit branches that bent, then broke. He caught a glimpse of the ground. All scattered with brown, lance shaped leaves. Then he hit.

***

“Ow,” he groaned, pushing himself up. He batted bits of dead leaves out of his hair and suit, making sure he was all still there. He felt like his parents had hit him with the earth like a wrecking ball. He looked up, staggering a little with the tilt in perspective, up through the hole he’d smashed through the perfectly nice canopy the tree had been working on for who knew how long. Maybe he’d been the wrecking ball. 

He had to sit down a moment, his entire body felt burned and achy from the taser. He fished one spikey piece of branch out of the side of his boot. He’d taken bigger hits and farther falls, but when he couldn’t catch himself the stupid part of him still expected to die everytime. He looked up again, ignoring the ringing in his head. He’d fallen into a damn thick patch of alders and bushes— honestly amazing he’d found any flat hard ground to hit at all.

The phase-proof cord— one end still tangled around his leg, wandered off into the underbrush. He could hear his parents thrashing around in the distance. 

Danny quickly shook off his distraction and jammed his fingers into the knotted mess around his leg. He worked and pulled at the strands, brow furrowed into determined concentration. If he turned human he could slip out in an instant, but he didn’t want to risk one of his parents spotting it through the bushes. He kept glancing up to check how close they’d gotten before returning to the net. Of all the things, why did he not keep a knife on him? His parents had made a ghost thermos and laser lipstick. Why not a Fenton Knife™?

Their crashing was getting closer. He stubbornly kept his head down, focused on his scrambling fingers and ignoring the loud sounds of Jack and Maddy following the anti-ghost cord right to him. He just needed to figure out where it had gotten tangled. A careless movement reminded him of the hole seared into his arm. Oh, ow. He’d almost forgotten about that. 

There, he’d found an edge. He freed it from a few misplaced cords, then twisted it, wrapped it back, passed it under his leg, and finally he could pull his leg free. He kicked the limp coil of net away and climbed to his feet. He could see patches of orange jumpsuit through the trees now. He gritted his teeth, pushing down the temper he could feel rearing up. They didn’t know— no. They didn’t care. He’d turned into a ghost under their noses, in their own workshop, and they’d never even noticed. 

He tested his arm with a hand. He still could barely feel it but he could already tell it was going to hurt when he got home and slipped back into his human skin. He winced when his fingers came away green. 

Danny stepped up into the air, flickering out of the visible spectrum.

***

The drizzle was still hesitant to turn into an actual rain when Danny floated outside his home. The neon sign buzzed faintly, briefly illuminating the drops that fell from the sky green, as though it was raining ectoplasm. 

Carefully, Danny pulled open his window and slipped inside. He let go of his invisibility and dropped heavily to the floor. A blanket he’d kicked off the bed bunched uncomfortably under his back and elbow, and his boot was chewing up the pages of a book he’d left open in the middle of the room, but right now he didn’t care. 

He stared up at his ceiling, at the sickly plastic of his glow-in-the-dark stars. It wasn’t dark enough yet for them to light up. The drizzle patted softly against the roof, like the Fenton building was a strange and unusual cat it didn’t quite know how to stroke. His arm ached dreadfully but he ignored it. A glancing thought reminded him of the English paper he’d sworn he’d finish tonight. He turned over, squeezing his fingers into his torn up arm. He scowled into the dark shadows that clung to the floor of his room. He’d do it tomorrow.

***

He came out of a dull fog with something nudging his leg. He hissed and kicked at it, then groaned. He was so sore from the electricity that had pulsed  through ever fiber of muscle he owned. He cracked an eye open. It was dark. Rain shadows mottled the dim light from the neon sign outside that the window cast onto the floor beside him. The constant buzz of rain on the roof made him realize he was still cold and damp. He curled tighter into himself, closing his eyes to try and go back to sleep. Well, it had decided to rain after all.

Another nudge against his leg made him open his eyes in annoyance. It was a tiny blob ghost, apparently small enough to get past his parents' sensors and definitely too small to cause real trouble. It sat in a ball by his foot, gazing him down with softly glowing red eyes. 

“Shoo,” he said crossly. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Instead of going away, it drifted up closer to his face. It was certainly brazen in the face of a much stronger ghost. Danny drew himself up into a half crouch, unwilling to let even this mindless blob catch him down and out. “You should get going, you don’t want my parents to see you hanging around.” 

Instead of listening to him, the blob rolled up to his hand. The surface of its ectoplasm rippled and then it plopped up a wet wad of bandages. 

“Eeew, that’s gross.” But it did make Danny think to look at his injured arm. He grimaced. That gun was seriously concentrated. His arm was still hollowed out and dripping with green slime. He’d been slowly leaking as he slept and it had left a dark, wet spot on his twisted blanket that gleamed dully in the low light. “Shoot.”

The small blob made a tiny murmuring chirp. He looked back down at it and it nudged his hand. He’d never met a blob ghost so friendly. The ones he occasionally spotted in the house seemed peaceable enough, but he never let them get close. They were like fruit flies, they just appeared where their sustenance was. Normally they coalesced after fights, drawn to the spilled ectoplasm like ramora to sharks. Or maybe they were created by it. Who knows. They were skittish, unfriendly, and prone to hurting pets. He didn’t really know how to react to this one trying to cuddle up to him.

When its insistent bumps got no reaction, the blob instead snagged his sleeve. It bobbed up in the air, tugging him to stand up. 

Suddenly there was another blob. It floated out from under his bed and tugged on his pant leg, seemingly for the same purpose. 

Bemused, Danny stood. The room tilted. For a moment he couldn’t move except to sway on his legs. He almost jumped out of his skin when a third blob ghost appeared over his shoulder. It settled as solidly as a blob could on its perch and hummed and chirped in his ear. Its firm press reminded him of when his dad would clap him on the shoulder, his big warm hand a steadying weight. 

The blob ghosts were still tugging on his clothes. So, Danny obeyed. He tottered tiredly toward his bed. He made the bed every day, but the blob ghosts must have been rifling through his room before they woke him up because all the blankets were half off. 

Irritated, he fell into bed. He sighed as his pillow recieved his head with a puff. His ssense of gravity became even looser as the pillow cradled his skull. He might have been floating as unmoored as he felt. How he’d missed it. Did it seem poofier today or was he just really happy to be in bed?

He shivered at the cold sheets and shifted to curl into a ball, but the blob ghost was still holding onto his sleeve. He lifted his head to show a threatening row of teeth, but he didn’t have the energy for much else. He flared the energy of his core. It had never failed to to send blobs darting away like frightened mice. These ones didn’t.

The big one that had sat on his shoulder floated through the air, a long trail of white bandage fluttering beneath it like a tail. Danny was starting to be amused. At least this bandage wasn’t already sopping with ectoplasm. 

The big blob hovered over the bed, edging the bandage closer to his wound. He didn’t know how to tell these things that you were supposed to disinfect stuff first. Whatever, at least it would stop him from soaking the mattress. He could deal with things properly tomorrow. In the morning when he felt less like a dead boy barely filling in his human skin. Yeah, whenever that happened. 

***

He’d figured out how to scare them off the night he’d been following the trail of a giant, mutant ghost snake. He’d been chasing it for most of the night and the snake had left it’s mark on him and a large chunk of Amity Park. He’d been pretty sure it was dead but he didn’t want that one coming back to life to bite him in the ass. Again. 

He’d found it in an old alleyway, its coils half hidden by mounds of trash. The huge snake had stopped moving. It was losing clarity fast and its scales were melting into the broken asphalt. The ambient ectoplasm its blood had added to the air made a glowing haze over the alley. It was also swarming with blobs. Like busy ants they flocked from one wound to the next, soaking it in like sugar water. 

Danny had taken a step back, just like anyone who turned over a log and found it crawling with maggots. Danny blinked at them, squinting with one eye crusted half shut from the fight and the other rubbery with exhaustion. The way the blobs swarmed over the ghost’s corpse before it had even bled away out of their physical world made shivers prickle all over his shoulders. Slowly he backed away. He’d confirmed the snake wouldn’t be a threat anymore, his job was done. 

He’d intended to leave the scene and creep away to finally go home, when his leg gave out and he slipped on the pavement. all the milling pairs of red eyes snapped to him. They hissed like a multi-tongued hoard of snakes. Automatically, Danny flared his core. He’d gritted his teeth, staring them down, thinking very hard about how much bigger and fiercer he was, how easy to squish them and fight them off his prey. The hand in front of him gained an unnatural edge, like a glowing afterimage. All the ghosts immediately fled, abandoning their immense feast.

After that he’d never had much trouble with the smaller ghosts. It didn’t make sense that these ones weren’t bothered about it. 

Danny took the bandage from the bigger blob and pinched it to his arm, intending to wind it around with his teeth. Instead, the three blob ghosts seized it from him, letting him hold it in place while they passed it back and forth around his arm. Danny didn’t have to do anything before he was looking at a tidily wrapped bandage. He wasn’t even seeping through them yet. 

“Thank you.” Uneasily he settled back onto his pillow, warily watching the blobs flit around like alien lights through half closed eyes.

The blob ghosts drifted like flotsam, their cool glow sliding over his freezing sheets to the glistening wood of his bedpost, then back again to bead on the dark wetness he’d spread on the floor and under his dry eyelids. His sight blurred and he realized again how tired he was, but now he’d been roused twice. He couldn’t relax with the huge, cold night huddling in the space of his bedroom. Especially not with the strange ghosts, mindless and helpful though they seemed to be.

The blobs didn’t seem to realize. They briefly floated down out of sight then reappeared holding up a blanket between them. As gently and softly as could be, they drew it over him. Two of them churred soothingly and patted the blanket around him as though they were trying to tuck him in. Danny wanted to laugh but instead he found himself sinking into his pillow, eyes blinking shut. After all, why shoo them off, he could defend himself from a couple of blobs. He yawned broadly. The third blob ghost drifted down to alight on his forehead, unexpectedly similar to the softness of a cool hand against a fever. Danny sighed and let it stay there. He already felt warmth spreading over him from the blankets, he was afraid to move or it would go away. 

The other blob ghosts settled onto his blanket around his legs. Their light dimmed as though they were going to sleep. He finally relaxed enough for the transformation to slip over his head and down his legs. He shivered furiously for a moment, like the first steps out of a cold pool where he’d acclimated to a chill sort-of-comfort and then into biting wind. Before long real warmth stole over him. 

The blob resting on his forehead began to hum. Even through his sleep drenched brain he recognised it. It was a silly song that his parents had liked and turned into a lullaby, just like every parent does. Whenever this one came onto the radio Danny was jolted back to when he was a kid and soothed into a warm bed on a close and sleepy evening. When he was a kid he’d practically vibrated with too much energy. When he couldn’t sleep Maddie would hold him wrapped in a blanket in her lap, singing that song and rocking back and forth, sometimes flubbing and making up her own words.

They needed the lullaby a lot when he was a kid. Some nights it was the only way to keep him in bed. It was a song for a too long road trip when he’d sent the entire car into seismic shifts from his carseat while the windshield wipers worked madly and Jazz was yelling at him for kicking her seat. The song was for a hospital visit where the cold room and unfamiliar walls was more disturbing than the pain in his broken arm. In the past it had never failed to lull him to sleep.

Somehow he hadn’t heard it in a long time. He didn’t miss it, it was just one of those things you naturally left behind as time passed. He wasn’t a baby anymore and Maddie didn’t need to sing it to get him to shut up for five seconds. He didn’t even remember the funny words she’d made up for it. His eyes drifted closed as he tried to mumble them and somehow dredge them up from deep in his mind. He’d almost completely forgotten it. He wondered where this blob had picked it up.

All the wondering he could do ran away from him quickly. His consciousness spun out like a ball of yarn leading him to sleep. The tune dropped him back into those years of falling asleep with his mom’s cheek next to his and finally his brain stopped thinking and let him drift off into deep dreamless sleep.

***

Jack and Maddie came home in the stillness of the hour between night and morning. It had stopped raining but they were drenched and stuck all over with orange pineneedles and other forest detritus. They were tired and trudged heavily through the door, not wanting to wake anyone up. There were twigs and leaves in Jack’s hair and a spray of thorns caught in the weave of Maddie’s suit. She smiled working it free but there was no real mirth behind it. Just tiredness.

They’d found no ghost in their net. But they’d been so sure a ghost couldn’t escape it, and a hit from Maddie’s new gun, on top of a shock from the Fenton Taser™ without being seriously damaged and power drained. So they’d combed the area again. They’d found not a sign of the ghost. They supposed that they’d never know until the next dogfight if that one had survived or had dissolved into whatever aether the scraps of human consciousness were bound for. 

They dumped their tangled and scraped up gear in a pile. Neither of them said anything. Without a word they left it there and took the stairs. Jack looked at the back of his wife’s neck. He might not be good at reading people but he’d known her long enough. All these ghosts were fascinating, they’d never had more work. But the rest of Amity didn’t exactly agree with their glee. Some nights the sheer amount of ghostly activity was overwhelming. And they were strong enough to be actually capable of real property damage! Who knew what else. The sooner they could stuff these spooks back where they came from the better. But this wasn’t what was bothering Maddy. Jack knew the problem that was puzzling her now was Danny. It was frustrating. Life would be so much easier if people could just say what they were thinking.

If only he could figure out the problem. 

Again, without words, they stopped in front of Danny’s door. Dread was boiling in Maddie’s stomach, there’d been so many nights she’d known he’d snuck out. Some nights he just never came home. Jack’s large arm reached past her to press against the door. He eased it open with both hands, For once he payed special attention to not bump anything thoughtlessly. Danny’s room was dark, the only light inside came from the warm stripes that escaped from the hallway lamp around their legs and the dim stick on stars that littered the ceiling. It was messy, as usual. Leaves of homework were layered over his desk and books lay open all over the floor. Drifts of clothes made sedimentary layers in the corners of the room. Jack couldn’t help his well of fondness at the sight. Danny was a still form on the bed. Silent asleep, as he should be. 

Jack sniffed, was the ectoplasm smell stronger here? He glanced around briefly; bed, desk, floor— then shrugged. It was everywhere in the house. It was their fault really, always mixing work and family life.  

Jack looked down and realized neither of them had pushed one toe over the carpet line into his room. It was just as good as a wall. 

Maddie’s mouth worked as though she was chewing over a mouthful of words that needed to be said, no matter how silently. She finally whispered. “Good night, Danny.”

And then they left as carefully as they had come. 

[imaginedreamwrite]

Bambi sets up one of the sweetest and nicest nurses with Bucky's friend Steve, who will change her live by loving her so purely and dearly and by being such a gentleman

What should I know about him? — FN

He’s a mechanic, he owns like five shops, and he’s a part time artist — Bambi

Still meeting at the pub? — FN

Where are you? Everything okay? — Bambi

Car troubles. Be there ASAP — FN

You sat in the car and sighed, your head resting against the steering wheel. You were just over a block away and stuck on a side road when your care decided to quit, the internal combustion engine clanking and grinding before coming to a complete stop, smoke billowing from the hood.

You’d texted her that you’d be late for this date, a quivering in your belly when you thought about how you were not only going to end up letting Bambi down but Bucky as well.

You loved the two of them, you wished you’d had what they had. You’d even mentioned it once or twice that men your own age were trash.

And when she had heard you talking at the hospital about your terrible luck with men your own age, she vivaciously started to plan a date with one of her boyfriend’s friends. Her excitement had bled into the next shift you had together, even after she had ended up knocking herself in the head with a door.

“Steve Rogers, mechanic, artist and Silverfox. Trust me, he’s gonna be perfect for you.” She beamed while texting Bucky.

Now you were stuck.

“My luck, just my luck.” Muttering under your breath, you reached for your phone to call a tow truck or an Uber, hoping to either make it home or make it to the pub.

As you turned your phone over, your heart started skipping a beat when Bambi’s message flash across the screen.

Stevie’s coming to help the damsel in distress. You’re in good hands, don’t worry! 😉 😘 🍆— Bambi

A knock came on the window and you jumped out of your skin, tossing your phone behind you. It wasn’t just the sudden appearance of the most gorgeous man to your left that made you irrevocably stunned, it was also him holding his ID to prove to you that he was who he said he was.

“Steve,” he cracked a grin, “Bambi said you had care troubles.”

“Ummm…” You stuttered, stumbling to open the door or at least roll the window down. “It was making like a…”

You furrowed your brows and made a poor attempt to replicate the noise, all while heat beneath your skin was bolstering you. Steve had looked at you with a slow, soft and crooked grin, his hands on his hips and his gaze piercing yours.

“I know exactly what the problem is,” his eyes turned apologetic and then you cursed under your breath, “yeah, its gonna need work. Why don’t I give you a ride to the pub? I’ll have it towed to my shop and I’ll have it looked at.”

“You really don’t have to-”

“Florence Nightingale.” He interrupted you with a husky voice. “Bambi calls you Florence Nightingale because you’re a nurse.”

“Yeah. You…she told you that?” You we’re temporarily distracted, your head tilting to the side as he chuckled under his breath with mirth.

“She told me a lot about you,” he helped you out of the vehicle, waiting while you turned to grab your thighs, and then led you back to his, “angel of mercy.”

“Don’t feel like you have to call me Florence Nightingale. Its an inside joke, like Bambi…” you got into his vehicle and started to buckle up, stopped when Steve’s hand rest on yours.

“Let me help you, it can be sticky.” He crooned softly, pushing the buckle in until it clicked. “So no Florence…I’m sure I can come up with something.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, watching your car as he began pulling away, “for saving me.”

“As far as first dates have gone in my life,” Steve looked at you from the corner of his eyes, lips tugged into a half-grin, “this is the best so far.”

[milla984]

Like Water For His Fire

Summary: When Ram goes MIA you get nervous... but he's got a very good explanation and you can't really stay mad at him

Pairing: modern AU Ramaraju x fem!reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: brief mention of anxiety, mentions of marking, kissing, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 2k

7:56.

The sunset paints the sky orange red and from the bedroom window you can see its reflection on the surface of the nearby lake, as the evening breeze raises silvery ripples on the water. Adjusting the strap of Ram’s tank top on your shoulder you blow a strand of hair off your face then check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time: no texts. Zero missed calls.

“He’s fine, he’s fine,” you repeat under your breath.

You sit on the coverlet and hug his pillow. There’s usually something soothing about putting on his clothes or smelling his perfume - today, however, neither his old top nor the faint traces of his sandalwood and orange peel aftershave on the pillowcase prove to be very effective at keeping your anxiety under control.

You switch to a full alert state when you hear the entry door opening, followed by heavy footsteps. Seconds later Ram stands in front of you looking exhausted, his sleeves rolled up and the first buttons of his shirt undone, and collapses on his side of the bed.

“What happened? Are you okay?” you ask, still a bit nervous.

He nods in silent assent.    

“I tried to call you, why did you turn off your phone?” you ask again and he fumbles in his pocket to hold up the answer, shaped like an intricate spider web of cracks across the black screen.

“I’m getting in the car and this idiot does a swan dive into a puddle,” he explains, “fifteen minutes later I’m stuck in traffic in Madeenaguda. Damn road works!”

It takes a little bit longer than usual for your heart to stop pounding in your stomach and ears. He’s been late in the past but an hour of radio silence forced you to consider all sorts of horrible scenarios, and you need to clear your mind of their negative influence.

“In hindsight… not the best route choice,” he adds, noticing you’re being too quiet. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.”

You shrug: during off-peak hours the NH 65 is the fastest way back, meaning he was trying to come home as soon as he could. And it’s not his fault his phone died on him. “You know me, I worry too much.”

You also care a lot about him, which is why he doesn’t need to hear you live in constant fear of being contacted by the notification officer of his department - a possibility he’s even less likely to discuss than you are.

“Are we good?” he replies, lowering his thick lashes and giving you an innocent doe-eyed stare.

You can see where this is going: the simple thought of it erases all the previous distress and makes you weak at the knees. You throw the pillow at him, practicing your best impression of a seductive pout. “Mister, you’re the Police Guy… why don’t you figure it out?!”

Ram props himself up on one elbow so he can tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. He brushes his thumb across your lower lip, his personal way of telling you he gathered all the evidence that the mere sight of his forearms always lights you up like a neon sign powered by libido. You’re not mad at him - you’re horny for him.

Cheeky bastard.

Needless to say, his shirt has to go; you unfasten the entire row of buttons in a heartbeat and help him take it off. ‘Mouthwatering’ is the word to describe his bare chest, and how on earth does he manage to still look steaming hot after spending a full day at work and a ridiculous amount of time in his car is beyond you.

You nibble on his earlobe before you lick him below the jaw, descending along his Adam’s apple, the muscles of his neck and the dimple between the collarbones. 

You could spend the whole evening teasing his nipples, forced to contain the urge to sink your teeth into his skin because he’s so sensitive he would scream in pain if you bit him; his petite buds harden at the lightest touch so you circle the areolas with the tip of your tongue and suck delicately, twirling a few dark hairs on his navel around your fingers.

“I’m happy you’re here,” you whisper.

His palm caresses your nape, then his mouth reaches yours and you both engage in a playful competition for dominance: now that he’s in your arms you only want to hold him tight and tell him everything’s alright, but he’s impetuous and clings to you as if you’re pure spring water, bound to tame the fire raging inside of him.

There’s no doubt he figured out ages ago the main reason why you wear his clothes or hug his pillow if he’s away: you crave his body, his presence, his weight on top of you, and it isn’t just a matter of lust. He’s not used to be open and vocal about his feelings, nevertheless he’s proven multiple times he’s the kind of man who looks out for the important people in his life and you’re willing to do the same for him; you’ve become each other’s fulfillment of a mutual request for affection and the many positive aspects of your physical relationship are a reflection of a deeper bond.

It’s Ram who wins in the end and traps you under him. He doesn’t bother to take the old tank top off and lifts the hem up to reach your soft belly; once he glides past your mound of Venus you squirm in anticipation, almost hitting him in the chin.

He smirks and you’re tempted to slap the living hell out of him: being so fuckable should be declared illegal.

“Don’t make me kick you for real,” you joke, and Ram smiles again.

Without breaking eye contact he puts both his hands on your hips and rolls down your panties while you lift your tailbone to help him; he pinches your left ankle and lifts your foot, placing your leg on his shoulder.

Reality fades in a blurry ensemble of the last rays of sunset behind the clouds, outside the window, and the hypnotic white noise coming from the a/c unit as you let your fingers run through his hair. Having it ruffled when he’s going down on you is a major turn on for him and you’re dying to please him in return, since you’ve never met another man who was this passionate about the idea of eating you out; he’s also into being praised as a reward for his dedication and you’re happy to oblige, cooing. “You’re so good at this, pandu.”

Ram glances at you, mesmerized. The gentle strokes of his lips grow more and more intense, then he starts to flicker his tongue at such a fast pace that your ragged breath turns into whimpers, to which he replies with low, throaty growls.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he hums, his head still buried between your thighs and his luscious beard, sprinkled with a little gray, rubbing so well on your clit.

You grab a big chunk of his hair at the roots and tug to draw his attention, careful not to hurt him. In your private system of non verbal communication it’s a signal to stop, so he rises to his knees and leans forward for a kiss. You love to taste your ‘sweet nectar’ (as it was referred to in many of the romance novels you read as a teenager) on his mouth; your adult consciousness knows it’s salty, tangy and it’s got a hint of musk to it - still, it’s you and he always enjoys it like you’re a delicious treat.

You also know another part of him is hungry for you, so you make him lay on his back to undo his trousers and pull them down, together with his underwear. He’s hard and impatient, aching to have you wrapped around him. Half of you wants to put you both out of your misery, the other half is determined to take full advantage of your position: you steady yourself on the headboard and straddle him, but first you tuck his leaking cock against his stomach.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you mumble as you slowly buck your hips, moving up and down his length.

This is plain torture for Ram and he clasps his hands at the old tank top, squeezing like a schoolboy who’s just discovered the amazing, silky roundness of your breasts. He’s adorable when his self-control begins to falter and soon his deep groans make you so wet it hurts.

“Jaanu…” he whines, desperate for release.

Using the headboard to keep your balance you guide him to the right spot before you lower yourself onto him. It’s your turn to fondle his chest and play with the dark trail of fuzz blossoming on his sternum and plunging to his groin; every time you separate you can’t stand to be apart and it’s not long before you grind on him to feel his coarse hair tickle your sensitive skin.

You look at him, his beautiful eyes closed and his teeth biting on his lips. He’s holding you so tight by the waist you’re sure he’ll leave a couple of marks and they’re all signs he’s trying to hold back. “I-I’m–”

“Do it,” you cut him off while you pick up your speed.

Ram throws his head backwards and it’s a sight to behold: his usual, brooding self disappears and all that’s visible on his face is peace and content, even if it lasts for a few seconds. You don’t stop rocking your hips until a familiar warmth flows inside of you, and moments later he wraps his hand around the back of your neck to pull you close.

He lifts his knees to dig his feet into the mattress and starts thrusting, set on a mission to give you one of the best orgasms of your life; he drinks the pure pleasure you’re pouring into his mouth with your loud moans, which he eagerly accepts as an incentive to pound you harder and faster.

“I want to make you come,” he mutters on your lips.

The power he has over you is unexplainable: his voice is what sends you over the edge in the end, gasping for air when a powerful jolt of ecstasy hits you and the tension leaving your body almost causes you to collapse on top of him. In fact you flop on your side, breathless and drained of the energy required to pass for a living and functioning human being; your brain is still engaged in the aftermath of the Big O and the single detail you’re able to process is one of your legs, resting across his lap.

Ram snaps out of the post-coital stupor first, in time to pick his shirt off the floor and help you clean your inner thighs - saving you both the trouble of dealing with a complete mess later. The pensive frown is back and you wipe away the shiny trickle of sweat running down his temple, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing he doesn’t seem to notice. 

Once he’s finished cleaning himself up he fixes his trousers in a hurry throwing the shirt back on the floor to snuggle against you, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders to trace the outline of his muscles using your fingertips.

“Excuse me… what?!” you laugh, since he’s got his face pressed on your bosom and the words come out muffled if he speaks.

“I think I love you, bangaaram,” he repeats, tilting his head up.

Your heart skips a beat.

He looks at you with his brooding expression again, so you find yourself lost in his dark, soulful eyes for the longest instant. Then you cup his face in your hands and rub your nose against his, kissing him so lightly that your touch is like April rain on his mouth.

“I love you too, Ram.”

@ramcharantitties, @nyotamalfoy, @taylorklaine, @bheemaxrama, @ladydarkey, @astrafangs, @ronaldofandom

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

[fahatesyou]

De-aged!Max, short drabble. Non Explicit. (Maxiel)

The kid stares at him.

When Daniel looks down to the boy's hands he makes a pained noise and holds Daniel's helmet tighter to his chest; it's the one with the pink and glitter on it. Daniel remembers him, a vague memory inside his head that he couldn't really picture even if he tried. Daniel knows he met Max when Max was younger; they shook hands back in his torturous rookie days filled with thousands of other stupid promotions and awkward meetings. He saw the photos too, when they resurfaced from place in the bottom of the internet after Max was announced as his new team mate. 

Daniel is sure; this has to be Max. Kid Max. Boy Max. A chubby faced blonde boy standing in the middle of his living room caught red handed. 

"Hey," Daniel murmurs, not really sure if he's dreaming, or if he's dead. Or maybe Max is dead, maybe he crashed while Daniel was sleeping and his younger soul came to say goodbye. Maybe this is a visit from Max's wandering soul to say farewell to their little secret den. Maybe Max was thinking of Daniel as he lost control of his car and that's why he's stuck in this version of himself, the one Max was way before he grew up and became a man that liked women and won world championships.

"Max, a—are you, is, is it really you?" Daniel stutters. 

The boy, Max, looks at him with wild eyes after he hears Daniel say his name and drops the helmet to the floor. The loud crack of the material startles Daniel, he takes a step back, nervous and on his toes, not really knowing what the boy will do. 

"Don't tell my papa," Max whispers, pulling the end of his shirt and wiping his hands on it like he touched something dirty. "I was only looking." 

Daniel shakes his head quickly, raising both hands in truce.  

My papa. 

Shit.

If Max's father from another dimension comes out of Daniel's kitchen or something, then he may actually drop dead right in the spot. Or end up in jail. 

"It's okay, mate." Daniel soothes him. He tries smiling but boy Max doesn't smile back. "It's a pretty cool, right?, it's good, don't worry." 

Boy Max frowns, and then looks down at Daniel's helmet lying on the floor. Daniel thinks for a second that Max will pick it up, but the thought gets thrown out of the window soon as Max's shoe hits the visor and makes the helmet fly to the other side of the room.

"Well, shit." Daniel says, frowning back at the Max from a different timeline. "That was rude as fuck." 

"I want my papa," Boy Max grunts, crossing his arms over his chest, his face flushing pink. "Call my papa, now." He orders Daniel, like it's Daniel's fault he's here and not wherever he should be at. Or whenever. Shit.

It must be a sign from God or something, but as soon as the words leave the kid's mouth, Daniel's phone starts blasting the loud new stupid ringtone Michael installed on it as a joke a few days ago.

"Shit," Daniel curses. He stares back at mini Max trying to seem commanding and holds a warning finger towards him, "Don't move." 

Daniel runs to his room and rushes towards his phone resting on the bed; a bad habit that has cost him a few screens.

It's Max, his name written next to the tongue emoji that Max put on there when he saved his number on Daniel's phone years ago.

"Max?," Daniel whispers in panic, a weird feeling flooding his body as he considers he may be going crazy for real. It doesn't feel like a dream. The kid looked fucking real and alive. And Daniel hasn't been this awake since he was born, probably. 

"Daniel," Max says, sounding like he just saw a fucking ghost. "Daniel, you, you—you're never gonna believe me. Please, listen, ju—just, listen to me, please." 

Daniel feels a cold wind hit the back of his neck, some tingling sensation of a pair of eyes on him. He looks over his shoulder and almost faints when the kid is there, holding a small butter knife so tightly his knuckles are white. Max is shaking like a leaf, but so is Daniel, and he realizes the weapon of the boy he curses at his old self for being too lazy after eating those croissants.

"I want to go home," Boy Max says, and Daniel is so overwhelmed by the insanity of the situation it takes him a few seconds to realize the kid's face is wet with tears, "I want to go back, now." He growls at Daniel, shaking the silverware in his hand as a treat.

For fucks sake.

"I do, " Daniel sighs to the other side of the line. He presses the speaker button and holds the phone towards the Dutch murder baby in front of him. "so you better fucking believe me too. And put the fucking butter knife down." 

[r0zyp0zy0zy]

Too Much

Masterlist

This was in the works for months. It’s apart of my sort-of series where the BNHA boys get hit with some type of lust quirk

Words: 3795+

Warnings: smut, oral, face sitting, needy Izuku, overstim, use of toys

Ft. Midoriya Izuku x FEM!reader

Summary: Midoriya shields someone from a succubus quirk

Deku, more often than not, was usually on the news. Specifically live television, helping civilians, stopping crime, and kicking ass. So it was no wonder that you tried to avoid that channel at all costs so you didn't risk having a panic attack at your boyfriend's activities. But Izuku, on the other hand, watched the news channel like it was his lifeline. He was watching out for new heroes, villains, and people in need of help. Izuku was typically pretty good about changing the channel when he left for work, but there were some occasions where he forgot.

Like today.

You were originally planning to watch some Netflix as you worked from home, plopping yourself down onto the couch and grabbing the remote. What you should've done was press the Netflix button as soon as you turned on the TV but alas, you didn't and now your eyes were glued to the screen, watching your boyfriend struggle to get handcuffs on a woman with deep red skin.

"—and Pro Hero Deku has done it again! Peacefully arresting an aggressive woman with a succubus quirk. How does he do it? The self restraint on this man is absolutely amazing! I know if I was in that situation I wouldn't've made it out sane! Ahahaha! And back to Yū-san for the weather—," the reporter was cut off by the news' slogan, and you turned off the TV.

"Fuckin' hell. A succubus?!" You mumbled, reaching for your phone and standing up. You tapped on the Reddit app and searched up the Pro Hero subreddit for more information. There was already a whole thread about Deku's most recent predicament, comments about how hot the succubus lady was and people wondering how Deku even had the ability to resist her.

You somehow felt the call on your phone coming, and threw on your jacket before it rang.

"Hello, this is y/n speaking," you answered, fishing your keys out of your pocket.

"Hello, this is Deku's agency. Are you able to pick him up at his office?" The receptionist said, simultaneously typing something on her keyboard.

"Already on my way," you sighed. "Thanks for calling me."

You quickly hung up and shoved your feet into your shoes. You shut the door behind you and locked it up, walking down the driveway to your vehicle. You knew that something was up, because if there wasn't they wouldn't have called you to pick him up. You kind of expected what Izuku was going through right now, but you didn't know how severe. He would've cracked on live television if it was really bad, right?

You rounded up to the gated parking lot meant for staff and heroes, and drove up to the curb. Deku was still in his hero costume, and he clutched his suitcase in his left hand, the other one buried in his right pocket.

You rolled down your window, "alright, what's the damage?"

Uravity stood awkwardly next to Izuku, expecting him to answer. When he didn't, she sighed and explained, "Deku-kun, uh, got in between a woman with a succubus quirk and her victim... and received the full force of her quirk..."

Izuku's eyes were cemented to the ground as if looking at you would trigger an explosion. You could see the glow of his flushed cheeks, and he nodded slowly, "y-yeah..."

"Did the doctor say anything or...?" You questioned.

"Ah- he just said Deku-kun has to— erm, ride it out. It won't do much damage because the real problem is the succubus' ability to... kill you with pleasure..."

You nodded in understanding at the uncomfortable girl, and unlocked your car, "alright Izu, get in. We have a long day ahead of us."

Izuku squeaked at your words and blushed harder, opening the back door and scooting inside. He held his suitcase in his lap, and stared down at it.

"Thanks, Ochaco-san," you smiled. "I might be stuck at home for an undetermined amount of time, so I'll let you know when Izuku is back to normal."

"Alright," she nodded. "Um, enjoy the rest of your day?"

You chuckled as you rolled your window up and locked the vehicle, looking back at Deku— who immediately whipped his head away. The ride was quiet besides your music, and you wondered what would ensue once you got home.

Izuku was unusually quiet on the ride home, not even pointing out his favourite collectable shop when you drove by it. His fists clutched the edge of his suitcase, staring a hole into the back of your head. You could feel his intense gaze

Ever since the arrest of that woman, Izuku's cock throbbed. The public didn't seem to notice his erection, and for that he was thankful. But as soon as he slipped away from the public's eye he couldn’t help but groan. He didn't feel like he was functioning; actually, he wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't function until he found sweet release. Deku gulped as he fantasized about you, stealing glances at you from the driver's seat. He desperately wanted you to pull over, and leap onto his cock. His head span as he imagined you saying the lewdest of things, and he mindlessly dipped a hand into his pants.

Izuku's vision fizzed when he imagined you sitting on his lap, grinding into his crotch. He let his suitcase fall to his feet, and he spread his legs a little wider. His head rested on the tinted window as he gradually increased his pace, fogging a spot on the window with his hot breath. Izuku didn't realize that he was crying until he tasted his salty tears on his tongue. He leaned his head back and keened loudly, thrusting his hips up as much as he could while wearing a seatbelt.

"Baby?" You asked, looking into the rear-view mirror. "Hold in there Izu, we'll be home in a few more minutes."

Midoriya nodded silently with watery eyes, biting back a moan at the nickname you called him. You were so... good to him, he thought. Always making sure he's ok, calling him cute things, sucking his d—, "oh shit," Izuku squeaked quietly, leaning forward suddenly and rutting his hips up.

"Izu, look at me ok?" You said, watching him through the mirror again. He met your gaze with almost a pained face, letting out short breath-moans. "You're doing so good, it's ok. You can let everything out."

At your words Izuku leaned back again and lifted his hips, opening his mouth in a silent groan. His green hair stuck to his forehead like glue, and saliva gathered in his gaping mouth. "Yes, y/n, fuck. So. Good. Hnngh, you're so— god you're so fucking pretty," he fisted his cock like his life depended on it, lewd sounds rolling off his tongue. He choked on his saliva as he came, splurts of cum landing on his hero costume.

"Feel better, Izu?" You asked, but Izuku was already on his second round. The cum frothed around his cock, squelching noises filling the car. You squirmed in your seat at the uncomfortable amount of slick that coated your underwear, trying to focus on the road.

"More..." Izuku mumbled, "need more— ah~ need more of you, y/n," his pants were fogging up the back windows, and he lazily drew a happy face on one. You rolled your eyes playfully at him.

"We'll be home soon, baby. Hold on a bit longer for me, ok?" You instructed, hoping that your 'bedroom' tone would make him listen.

Izuku whimpered as he nodded along to your words, still desperately fisting his cock. It was hard to not look at him with how utterly wrecked he looked; eyes rolling back, soft chanting of your name leaving his lips. His cheeks were glowing a pretty rouge once you took another peak at him through your mirror. When you finally parked the car in the driveway, Izuku was still babbling nonsense as he rutted into his hand. His trance broke once he saw your hand go in front of his face, and he moaned pathetically at the thought of you giving him a handjob.

You made sure to wipe the cum off of your boyfriend's suit, careful to tuck his hard cock back into his pants. He whined in complaint, but once you said something about snoopy people and their cameras he 'sobered up' and put on his best facade to seem completely normal and fine. Izuku held his briefcase over his crotch, trying to look childish as he carried it to the front door to avoid suspicion from the possibility of prying eyes.

As soon as the pine-haired man entered the house, he fell to his knees, humping his forearm that was pressed to his clothed cock. He moaned in need, not noticing when you began to take off his hero gear. Izuku shuttered when you took off his belt, trying his best not to beg for you to touch his twitching cock.

"P-pleeease,~" he whined when his self control faltered. "Y/n, I can't— I can't! I need it!"

"Need what, Izu?" You leaned down to peer at him. "You have to tell me what you need."

"T-touch me," Izuku's small voice whispered as he started grinding harder against his forearm.

"Let's get you in the bath, baby," you ran your fingers through his hair, "once I clean you up I'll make sure you feel good."

He huffed in protest, but followed you nonetheless, scrambling to stand up. You helped him sit on the countertop, filling the bath with lukewarm soapy water. You examined the bubble bath soap that you had, and went with the scentless option as to not overload your poor horny boyfriend. You heard Izuku whine as you bent down to add the soap, and you could feel his hot gaze on you.

"Y/n," he whimpered. You turned back to look at him, and quirked an eyebrow when you watched him tumble out of his tank top and spandex boxers. You helped him out of his clothes and guided him into the bath.

Izuku watched with heavy eyes as you soaped up the loofah in your hands, biting his lip in anticipation for you to finally touch him, even if it was not exactly with your hands. He gasped when you scrubbed his chest, washing the sweat off his body, and accidentally rubbing his nipples. Izuku choked out a moan and threw his head back, gripping his thighs to keep himself sane. He begrudgingly lifted his arms so you could wash those as well.

"You're doing so good, 'Zuku," you reassured as you poured water over his sweaty green locks, dumping some on his face too.

Midoriya choked on the water as he groaned. Your fingertips massaged shampoo in his hair, gently pulling and rubbing his scalp. He gasped when you massaged the hair on the base of his neck and lurched his hips up, making the water in the tub slosh around. Your boyfriend heaved whiny breaths as you continued to wash him, and he was trying not to squirm from how you were touching him. Izuku let out a pathetic cry when you washed his thighs, and his hands wandered up his chest to pinch his nipples. Tears formed in his eyes as his erection bounced onto his stomach at the amount of desperation he was in, and he was silently sobbing when you finally unplugged the bathtub.

"Shh, shh, Izu. It's ok, we're all done here, let's get to the bed now," you helped up a shaky Izuku from the bath and wrapped a fluffy All Might towel over his trembling body. You laid him down gently and kissed his forehead.

"Please," he heaved in almost a panic, "please touch me! I can't take it!"

You threw off your shirt as quickly as you could, and you sat between his legs. Izuku's eyes were closed tightly, and his cheeks were stained with cold tears. He whined out a huff once you finally gripped the base of his cock and jerked up, firmly fisting him in your hand. You dragged your palm over his almost purple glans, gathering his pre-cum to use as lube.

Izuku yowled and gulped down the saliva that he was producing, arching his back in need. He silently urged you to go faster, harder, but was too breathless to. He sobbed when you did just that, and he sucked in harsh breaths into his poor lungs.

"Cumming!" His head flew back on his pillow and he whined loudly. "Y/n it's so good, oh fu-ck~."

Your eyes widened as you pumped him through what you believed to be his third orgasm, marvelling at how much cum came out to land on his stomach and chest. You slowed down and gave your boyfriend a sloppy kiss.

Izuku complained when he felt you dip off the bed, upset that you weren't blessing him with overstimulation. His neck lulled to the side and watched you pull out a few toys. He felt his dick leap when he saw you take out a powerful vibrator, along with the ring attachment. Midoriya took a shaky hand and smeared his fingers with his cum, watching it drip down his cock. He fisted himself before you came back over and swatted his hand away.

"Let me take care of you, hon," you fretted, plugging the toy into the wall. You quickly rid yourself of the rest of your clothes before scooting forwards.

A shiver ran throughout Izuku's body when you switched it on. You carefully dragged it over his glans, watching him writhe beneath you.

"Oh fuck," he huffed in satisfaction when you slipped the lubed ring over his still aching cock, and he gripped the sheets under him.

"Your balls are so puffy, 'Zuku," you purred. "Lots of cum in there, hmm?"

"Yes, yes so much. So much— please get it out!" Izuku begged. His eyes rolled back when you switched up the vibration.

"Don't worry baby," you cooed. "I'll get it all out for you."

Midoriya's eyes widened when he felt your hot, wet tongue lap at the tip of his cock, and he moaned deeply. With the mix of his cum and your spit, his dick was easily sliding with the toy.

Dragging down the silicone ring to the base of his cock, you wrapped your lips around his glans and sucked greedily, trying to milk him once again. You thought you heard Izuku crying from pleasure again, so you sucked a bit harder.

"Hah!~" the man huffed, struggling to stay still. His hips uncontrollably rutted upwards into the warm cavern of your mouth and a harsh groan ripped from his throat.

Izuku's legs began to shake when you flicked up the vibration to the highest setting, and if he wasn't out of his mind, he would've been extremely embarrassed at the shriek he let out. He huffed for breath as his back arched and his head was thrown to the pillows.

"Ghgh," Izuku let out a strangled groan. He fisted the sheets harshly and he floundered against the bed, feeling as though he was sinking into the sheets with what he was experiencing. "Gagh! Oh! Oh, y/n pleasepleasepleeeeaseee~," Izuku was full on sobbing now, begging frantically that he had to cum.

"'Zuku, cum for me ok? Cum all over your chest, baby. I'll lick it all up," you encouraged, keeping up your pace.

"Thank you! Oh- th-thank— AHGnm," Izuku growled, body tingling all over and shaking fiercely.

You quickly turned off the vibrator and pulled it off of his still hard cock. Midoriya watched almost cross-eyed as you licked stripes up his belly to the valley between his pecks, slurping up his cum lewdly. You met his gaze and smiled at him, leaning up for a kiss. Izuku groaned at the taste of him on your tongue and he bucked his hips up, already silently begging for more.

"Jeez 'Zuku, how much you got in there?" You asked in awe, slowly pumping his still hard cock.

"Mm, dunno," he mumbled, "doctor said the quirk'll make me produce lots."

"I don't know if I should keep going, baby..." you hesitated, slowing your movements.

"No!" Izuku keened, "no, please no! Keep going please, y/n."

You grabbed Izuku's fleshlight from the side drawer and angled his cock to fit into the silicone. You shushed your boyfriend as he whined, slowly dragging the toy up and down his length.

"Gonna sit on your face now, yeah? That alright?" You cooed, batting your eyelashes at Izuku.

"Yes!" He groaned, laying his head back on his pillow in preparation.

You switched positions so your thighs were on either side of Izuku's skull. His hands crept up and held you steady, already lapping and sucking at your clit. You sunk the fleshlight down on his cock again and you shivered at the whine he let out. You ground your hips against his face as you slowly pumped the toy. It was harder for you to focus on your boyfriend's pleasure when his lips were wrapped around your clit, his face buried between your legs. You managed to keep your movements steady for the most part and after Izuku came again, you kept going at that same pace.

"Mmph fmmph phmo fmmd," the man beneath you moaned. He picked up his pace and you gasped, your strokes faltering.

"Fuck, 'Zuku," you groaned. Your head flew back and your mouth opened wide. "Shit, baby."

"Myhp bmph," Izuku pulled back to suck in a breath. "Y/n, touch my balls, please, pleaseplease."

You did, lying yourself fully on your boyfriend and reaching your unoccupied hand to caress his still puffy sack. A deep groan rumbled in his throat, and he continued to feverishly eat you out. Tonguing at his thighs/pelvis, you sucked gently on his skin, kissing over the faint marks. You weren't quite sure, but you thought you felt Izuku's tears on your thighs; his moans getting steadily louder.

"You close, baby?" You panted on his skin, picking up your pace.

"Mhm," Izuku answered.

"Such a good boy, letting me milk him while making me feel good," you purred. Your breath was ragged and you felt your stomach twist in pleasure as Izuku whined on your heat. "Go on and cum for me, 'Zuku."

Izuku's hips bucked slightly into your pumps, and you saw more cum leak out of the bottom of the fleshlight. You slowed to a stop and pulled the toy off of him, groaning when you saw two orgasms worth of cum leak out of the toy. Letting the toy fall, you gripped Izuku's thighs for support as you swivelled your hips on his face.

"Fuck, 'm close baby. Make me cum, ok?" You gasped as your boyfriend honed in on your clit, moaning unintelligible praise against your folds.

Your grip tightened and you rolled your head back, moaning loudly as you felt yourself fall over the edge. Your legs shook as you came, and you heaved for breath. Izuku slowed and didn't stop until you lifted yourself off of him.

"Th-thank you," Izuku licked his lips, your slick covering his chin.

"We have to clean up now, 'Zuku," you cooed, running your fingers through his sweaty hair.

"N-no!" Izuku whined, jutting his lip out. "Wan-wanna be in you. Want you on top of me."

"Ok Izuku," you sighed, cupping his cheek. "But after this, I'm cleaning up and then you have to go to sleep. Alright?"

"Yes!" He nodded frantically.

Izuku watched curiously as you rummaged around in the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom.

"Wait- we haven't used one of those in ages. Aren't you on birth control?" The man asked as you rolled on the latex.

"Babe, you're under the influence of a quirk. I don't know what type of shit that chick did to your semen," you refrained from saying anything about you getting pregnant in fear that it would light a fire within him.

He nodded shakily, grinning dumbly as you hovered over him. A whimper left his lips as you rubbed him through your folds, making his cock slick with your arousal. He gasped as you sat down on him, his cock slipping in with ease. A moan rumbled in Izuku's throat once you started to roll and buck your hips.

"Sh-shit," Izuku squeaked, pulling his hand up to bite his fist. His other hand laid on your hip, occasionally tightening his hold when you moved a certain way. "You feel so good, baby. Feels s'good when you bounce on my dick."

Izuku took his fist out of his mouth and used a shaky hand to rub tight circles on your clit. Even if he was delirious, he still had the mind to make you feel good too.

The expressions on your boyfriend's face made your core tighten in excitement. The way he reacted to every little thing was making you go insane. Every rut of your hips, every breath you let out, was overwhelming him.

"Pleasepleaseplease cum," Izuku whimpered, "need you to cum, y/n. Want you to cum before me."

You watched as tears formed in his eyes and you moaned throatily. Your nails dug into his chest as your face contorted in pleasure, letting the tingling of your toes travel up your body.

"Oh fuck, Izuku," you cried, "close! Oh my god fuck— I love you so much Izu."

Midoriya couldn't control the whole body shiver he had as he came, your walls squeezing him rhythmically as you came immediately after him.

"So good," Izuku whined. "Want one more..."

"No no, baby," you cooed as you cleaned him up with baby wipes. "Remember, I said that was the last one. Now I'll get you a warm cloth and some water, ok? And then we can have a nap."

"Ok," Izuku huffed dejectedly.

He didn't notice when you left, but you came back into the room holding a sports water bottle and a cloth.

"You did so good baby," you said softly. "Hopefully you'll feel better when you wake up."

"Mhm," Izuku hummed absentmindedly, squirting water down his throat.

Midoriya struggled to get his sweatpants on so you dressed him in comfy clothes, and laid him back down. You got his fuzzy AllMight blanket and wrapped it around him.

"Good?" You asked as you lay down.

"Yeah," he mumbled into the blanket. "Thank you, y/n."

He snuggled closer to you and fell asleep rather quickly, leaving you to slowly doze off into a light nap as your boyfriend clutched onto your side.

[strangelysamantha]

crashing ☆

rafe cameron x gn!reader.

warnings: reader gets injured, car crash, swearing.

words: 3,106.

summary: rafe is waiting for you to meet him at figure 8, but he’ll be waiting awhile as you got in a tragic car accident, the other vehicle being driven by his father.

request? no! requests are opened!

a/n: use of they/them pronouns. like and comment if you enjoy this story! thanks <333

my masterlist

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“alright baby. of course. i love you!! yes, i’m leaving now.” rafe was on the other side of your phone, ensuring that you were ready for your dinner date. the two of you have plans to meet at the figure eight. you will eat at a nice restaurant, and then finish the date off with a scroll through the park while watching the sunset. rafe had planned the whole thing out, excited he could finally show you how much you meant to him. rafe smiled, “okay babe. i’ll see you in a few. i can't wait to see your precious face.” heat rushes to your face because of rafes words. “see you in a few.” you hang the phone up, grabbing your car keys.

you walk to your car that is sitting in your driveway. you hop in, starting your car. you put your seatbelt on, using your phone, you do a map search to the location rafe had sent you. you turn the music up slightly. you check behind you for passing cars or pedestrians, and when the coast was clear, you pulled out of your driveway, and started the drive to rafe.

you had only been driving for five minutes. you were caught at a red light. your light turned green so you pressed the gas to go. immediately a large black car t boned straight into you, hitting you head on. luckily, it had smashed into the passenger side, but the weight from the other car caused your car to shift, making you to hit your head against your steering wheel, and the car's window. the car crashed into a light pole. you were on the border between the cut and figure eight. nobody was ever there unless they were passing by. you struggled to look up, trying to see if you knew who had crashed into you.

the car that slammed into you looks vaguely familiar. you understood why when the guy who jumped out of the car was none other than ward, rafe’s father. you frowned. he rushed to your car, ready to yell at you but panicked when he saw who you were. ward immediately ran back to his car. he hopped into his car, speedily driving away.

you feel around for your phone. when you finally find it, your screen is cracked, and the screen is black. it won’t turn on. the phone must have slipped from your cup holder onto the side of the door, causing it to break. you drove your car forward so you weren’t positioned into the middle of the street. you shut your car off. your head begins to feel light headed, you close your eyes, trying to make the pain minimal. your eyes shut, and you could feel yourself slowly passing out. you try to stay awake, but the sleep engulfed you.

rafe was panicking. you were never late. well, yes you run late, but never without texting first. anytime you ran into trouble you would immediately message him and let him know. he hated this. he didn’t know what he should do. he tried to call your phone but it went straight to voicemail. he exited the restaurant, searching for either you or your car but he couldn’t find either. he frowned to himself. did you intentionally miss dinner? did he do something wrong? rafe was scared, what if you were in danger?

rafe pulled his phone out. he set his feud aside, calling pope. pope glanced at the caller id that was currently ringing his phone. he was shocked to say the least. “rafe?” pope questioned through the phone. pope didn’t want to answer but if rafe truly needed something from pope, he wouldn’t hesitate to get it from him in person. he knew it would be easier if he just answered and figured out what he needed. “pope?” rafe bombarded pope with questions about you; and your whereabouts. pope was confused. he hadn’t seen you since this morning.

“i’m sorry rafe, but i haven’t seen them since early this morning. i’m down the street from their house if you want me to knock on their door?” rafe sighed, “please. see if they are home.” pope nodded. “alright one second.” pope rushed to your front door. he knocked three times. “the car isn’t here, they seem to have left.” rafe smiled. “okay. thank you, pope. i appreciate it, man.” rafe felt relieved. “no problem.”pope hung up. you had actually left to meet him at the restaurant. but if that was true, why weren’t you at the restaurant yet?

rafe decided to stay put. he got confirmation that your car was gone. that shows you had safely left your house. if you don’t show in the next ten minutes then rafe would go looking for you.

you kept dozing in and out of consciousness. after the third time of passing out, you actually stay awake. you open your car door, stumbling out of it. your head hurt, and you felt light headed. you look around, no civilians. you yell out, but no one is around to hear. “HELLO??” you walk away from your car, just a little bit. you take in your surroundings. you walked back to your car.

you try to turn your car back on but the engine is stalled, it doesn’t even sputter again. you sink into the seat, laying your head on the head rest. you pull down the little mirror, examining your face. you hadn’t noticed, but the top right of your forehead was bleeding. It looked to have a pretty big gash. you had a bruise on your left cheek from when your head slammed against the steering wheel. you look at the time, noticing that it was ten minutes past your date with rafe. you jumped out the car, walking towards your house once more.

before you could step inside, you ran into pope. you noticed he peeked through your window. “peeping pope, why are you looking through my window?” you laugh at the added nickname. he stayed still, thinking of an explanation. “rafe called me saying you were late to something and he was worried.” he finally turned around, glancing at you. “what! what happened to your face?” he rushed towards you automatically inspecting the cut and bruises.

“i got in a car accident, ward cameron t boned into me.” you continued, “he got me good. slammed my head against the window and the steering wheel.” pope shook his head, panicked. “we have to get you to the hospital! you had two blows to your head; that's double the chance of internal bleeding.” pope helped you, carrying you inside his dad's car. he speedily drove you to the hospital, signing you in. they took you back, while pope stayed seated in the waiting room.

someone was going to have to call rafe; and it certainly wasn’t going to be pope. before going into the back room, you had handed pope your phone. he plugged it into the quick charging station to see if it was dead. sure enough, the low battery symbol turned on. the phone automatically turned on, showing the numerous mixed texts from rafe. pope ignored them, not wanting to be the one to answer them since it wasn’t his phone.

rafe decided to check your location one last time. the first few times he had checked, it said your location services were off. he didn’t know why it said that, he honestly believed it to be some glitch. rafe’s air got stuck in his throat when he saw your location had updated to being inside the outer banks hospital. he jumped in his car, not even thinking twice. he drove straight to you.

he gave himself a prep talk, telling himself to just remain calm and to see what was going on. he walked into the hospital, his eyes searching for you. he didn’t see anyone he recognized until he saw pope, with your phone situated in his hand. he walked towards pope, snatching the phone from his arm. “why do you have this?” pope shook his head, muttering under his breath. “shit.”

“come on pope. spit it out.” pope shook his head. “rafe, before you do this protective bullshit, just know i’m actually the one who saved them.” rafe stared at pope, confused. “saved them? from what? what do you mean saved them?” rafe questioned pope, “someone crashed into them while they were driving to you. they found me and i rushed them here.” rafe stared at pope. “how bad is it?”

pope shrugs. “i’m sorry, i really don’t know much. they said they were t boned, their head hit the window and the steering wheel. we drove by the car, it’s totaled. crashed into a pole.” rafe continued to stare at pope with wide eyes. “what… how long ago was this?” pope looked out the hospital windows. “a little after they left their house i’d say. it was a seven minute drive from my house to the crashed car, so i’d say five minutes.” rafe sat in the seat directly to popes left.

rafe was breathing erratically. his mind running wild with the amount of possible outcomes. the nurse walks out into the waiting room; and calls your name. rafe immediately stands up walking forward. “we believe the car crash caused them to undergo serious head trauma. no signs of internal bleeding; but we are still checking everyone in a while. you can go back and talk to them if you want.” the nurse smiles softly. rafe looks back at pope, and pope nods his head.

rafe continues, following after the nurse as she leads him to your waiting room. when he walked inside, you were peacefully sleeping. “they should be waking up soon. we truly believe that they will be okay.” rafe nodded at the nurse, watching as she left him. rafe’s hand reached up to yours, grabbing it. he scooted the chair closer to the bed. rafe quickly texted pope saying that he was okay to leave, and that he would keep pope updated.

the wait at the doctors felt like hours, but rafe stayed with you the whole time. he had sat on the chair by your bed, his hand always holding yours. the nurse comes back in. “i’m sorry sir, but visiting hours are over, usually we would allow people to stay the night but in this case they really need rest and if they wake up and you’re here; they will force themselves to talk to you.” rafe frowned, “they have a chance to wake up, and now you want me to go home?” the nurse frowns at him. “i’m sorry, but they need to sleep as much as they can, you can see them bright and early tomorrow morning at seven am.” rafe slowly lowers his head. “okay.”

he walks out of the hospital room, and to his car. he decides he will go home, get clothes prepared for you, and will try to figure out your car situation. then he would sleep, wake up, and meet you at the hospital right when visitation opens. he put his seatbelt on, driving home.

when rafe reached his house he realized that his dad's car had crashed in the front. it looked gruesome. rafe walked inside, greeting his dad. his dad nodded his head in response, walking away. rafe went straight to wheezy, his sister. he knocked on her door and went to open it. “rafe?” she questions him. he looked around. “what happened to dad's car?” he hoped wheezy knew. she tilted her head inviting him inside her room.

she began to whisper. “okay, so basically like our dad t boned someone on the outside of the cut, and he said it’s completely the other person's fault; but sarah believes that’s not true unless he didn’t actually t bone someone, and he was actually just getting brake checked on the highway. how could it not be his fault?” wheezy looked up at rafe’s face and was utterly shocked by his expression.

“rafe? why are you looking at me like that?” wheezy tilted her head to the side, confused. “our father is the reason..” rafe shakes his head, now pacing up and down the floor. you were in the hospital, because of his father. he filled wheezy in, telling her about what happened with you. she gasps in shock. “what are you going to do?” wheezy watched him, he was frantic. “i’m, i think i’m going to confront him.” wheezy half smiled, “okay. you got this! good luck!”

rafe left his sisters room and head to his fathers office. he was always scared of his father, now more than ever, but he needed answers. he knocked three times on the door, and his father opened it, to reveal himself. “hello rafe.” he walks inside, sitting on the chair in front of his desk. “dad, i know you are the reason the car is crashed; and you are the reason someone very important to me is in the hospital.” his dad stood up, straightening his back. “no. they twisted the story, now out. i won’t have you critique me in my own room.” rafe wanted to stand his ground, but he knew he should back down.

he didn’t want to waste all his energy, he still needed to prepare to see you. rafe went straight to his room, picking out a pair of his sweatpants, and a hoodie for you to change into after you get released from the hospital. he put the extra clothes including a pair of your socks into a baggy. rafe speedily changed into pajamas, and hopped into bed. hoping the morning would come faster.

rafe woke up at 6:20am. he had taken a quick shower and changed into new clothes. he grabbed your bag of clothes and hopped into his car. he drove straight to the hospital. he had arrived five minutes before visitation started.

at 7am on the dot, rafe was walking to your room. you were awake, the frown on your face caused his heart to drop. “hey baby.” you glanced up at him and softly smiled. “hey rafe.” he smiles in return. “how are you? i brought you extra clothes.” he lifted the baggy up, before setting it on the extra chair. you reach your hand out to him, and he swiftly moves closer to you. he pulls the chair up once again, sitting directly by your side. “i would have stayed here all night but i was kicked out.” you nod at his words, “sound about right.”

he smiles, his hand tracing shapes on your palm. “how are you feeling?” you wait. “i’m okay. the doctor said the worst thing i have is a concussion. they said if all the other tests come back good, then i’ll be cleared to go home.” he nods smiling, “yay! we’ll be able to take you home!” you bite your lip containing your smile, but it quickly turns sour. you frown at him.

“i’m sorry, rafe.” you look away from him, avoiding eye contact. “for what?” he questions, his heart speeding up scared at what you are about to apologize for. “for missing our date, i really wanted to go.” you frown. he cups your chin. “it’s okay, trust me. i already have it rescheduled,” he looks over at you. “so once you get better, we can go on like we originally planned.” the room went silent, the only thing being heard was the heart rate machine slowly beeping.

“rafe i love you.” he smiles. “i love you too.” you nod contentedly. the doctor walks in, “good morning. today you’ll be able to go home. you seem to only be suffering from a concussion. you’ll have to stay home and rest, don’t do too much or else you’ll be delaying the inevitable. the less time you relax, the longer you’ll be suffering.” rafe talked to the doctor as you played with the tape from the iv inside your hand.

rafe nodded. the nurse came over to you, taking the iv out, as well as the square patches that covered your chest. she left, shutting the door, allowing you to get dressed in new clothes. you frown, the medicine they gave you makes you feel slightly sluggish. “i’ll help you, don’t worry.” rafe untied the medical gown, he slipped it off. he grabbed the hoodie, placing it over your head. you slip your arms through the holes, rafe’s smell surrounding you.

you sit up in the bed, your feet over the edge. you hiss at the cold floor which hits your sock less feet, making you cold. rafe slid his sweatpants on to you. you go to stand up, but he stops you. “let’s put your socks on first, the hospital floor is cold.” you sit back down on the bed. his hand reaches for your foot, it is cool around his hand. he slid your socks on, and then the sweatpants. finally putting your shoes on. “thank you rafe.” he tied the plastic bag shut, it now filled with your old clothes. “anytime baby, i’m always here for you.” you stand up, your hand slipping into his hand, his arm stabilizing you.

the nurse walked in. “the medicine we gave you should be wearing off shortly. that’s why you seem so… out of place.” the nurse nodded, signing you out. the nurse walked you to rafes car. fear began to creep up, now nervous to be in a car again. “it’s okay, you’ll be okay.” you nod. you sit yourself in the passenger seat. rafe thanked the doctors, before running to his side of the car. he hopped in, putting his seatbelt on. he looked over to you, making sure you were okay. he drove extra careful, going straight to your house.

once you arrive at your house, the medicine wears off allowing you to be able to be yourself. you walked to your front door. rafe used his spare key to unlock the door. once inside you go straight to your room, rafe following after you. you lay down on the bed, you pat the spot by you; and rafe sat down by you. he cuddled with you. his head finding its way in your neck, his arms wrapping around your torso.

after a few minutes of silence you spoke up. “your dad is the one that hit me. he ran through a red light.” rafe frowned against your neck, whispering. “i know.” you nod, your hand running through his hair. “okay.” you smile softly, closing your eyes. falling asleep with rafe by your side.

<33

[mrpenguinpants]

Genshin: Roommate HCs [V1]

To be honest, I just wanted to ramble some more and let my brainworms take over. This is sorta late but Happy Valentine’s everyone! I was gonna post this earlier but this honestly took me a long time to write so I moved it to today. 

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. Seriously, as much as I love writing this non-serious fics. Why do you people like this?

—

Based off my ramblings with Keqing anon: Link

Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

—

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @kaechu @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @rokipersonal​@minakohasmanyhusbandos​ @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess​ @yuu-yuukurotsuki​ @hanniejji​  @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii​ @stanzastic @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​ @nonniechan​ @htnicayh​ @genshins1mpact​ 

---

Diluc

What? Diluc has a roommate? Did you blackmail him in living with you? Is that even possible? Did you throw yourself in front of his car because you needed someone to pay for your student loans and the easiest way was to file a lawsuit? In this economy no one would blame you. Diluc seems like such the self-isolated character that would murder his roommate in cold blood but in reality, he act’s detached from the world because he forgot how to socialize and he’s desperately trying to cover it up without choking. That or he’s trying to learn how to astral project. If he could drink away the pain he would but instead he buys 20 packs of grape Kool-Aid and injects it into his veins. 

Does not and will not ever have a normal sleeping schedule. You’ll wake up to him working, come back home to him working, and will sleep to him still working. His daily dose of Vitamin D is from the brightness of his screen rather than the sun and he’s filter feeding at this point. It’s concerning. He’s going to crumble and he’s bringing the world down with him. Through the power of tax evasion. But as soon as he needs to walk out into society, he pulls movie magic and looks like perfection. It’s both physically and mentally disgusting. 

He’s actually is a really nice roommate to have just so long as you give him space. Great cook and knows to clean up after himself. Though he does have crash and burn days where’s he’s completely out of commission. You could set the entire apartment on fire and he would sleep through it. The entire two weeks are dedicated to zombie eye marathons and then he’ll suddenly collapse and sleep for 46 hours straight. When he wakes up from his hibernation he’s the most groggy and nonsensical person. His life blood is coffee because you keep hiding the 5 hour energy away from him because, you know, life is enjoyable and those cancer bottles will actually kill him.  

“University sucks our money out of our bodies faster than our will to live.” 

Beidou [Happy Birthday Queen 💕]

Despite her appearance, she’s actually really strong and it scares the piss out of you when you’re doing something or scrolling through your phone mindlessly and you suddenly get your spine re-arranged when she slaps you on the back to ask what you’re doing. Likewise, when she hoists you up and throws you over her shoulder so you come with her on her 3am convivence store raids for alcohol. It’s either you change now or else we’re walking out of the apartment in your t-shirt and no pants self. She can and will carry you under her arm that way. It’s both incredibly attractive and horrifying at the same time. 

She’s really friendly and a great talker if you’re alright with her “I must hold you in my arms, fresh prince of bel air style”. It doesn’t matter if you’re taller than her, she’s doing it. She does however, get in a bit of trouble from her rowdiness and you often get noise complaints but Beidou just passes them off to Ningguang and everything is fixed. She has ovaries of steel when neighbors rather confront her personally and she’s ready to 1v1 in the parking lot. You’re trying to desperately hold onto her shirt to stop her from pile driving your neighbors for the third time this week but she’s too strong.  

She’s constant party until we die attitude and suffers the hangover in the morning. It’s actually really funny to catch her in her hangover moods because whatever filter Beidou had, which is none, is gone. She really takes “cursing like a sailor” or the next level and the amount of creativity she comes up with is actually impressive. She can be a bit messy but she’s really likeable and always down to go anywhere with you as long as you’ll do the same. It’s a very ride together, we die together situation. You’re my best friend, you’re dying with me. I’ll see you in hell. 

“Imma T pose over my dad and then crash the car into the parking garage.” 

Kaeya

Kaeya on the surface seems like such a chill roommate. And he is for the most part. But he’s such an ass. Your things are his things, no questions asked. If you just bought a really nice sweater or you had leftover food, that’s his now. He’s innocent until proven guilty even if he’s literally holding your lunch. The pure amount of bullshit he can spit out to convince you that no, he did not pull the fire alarm because he wanted an excuse for not going to work, puts him on Shakespeare level. He’s also very pretty, way too pretty, sir can you share some of your genes? 

But aside from that, he’s actually super dependable. You forgot something at home? Sure, he has nothing better to do so he can bring them for you. We’re missing eggs? No problem, he’s just by the store. You’re 95% sure that he just wants to be cheeky and make you thank him for 20 minutes before he actually hands you what you asked for. It’s better for you if you never tell him anything you’re afraid of because Kaeya has no social cues, or more like he throws them out the window, and he’s probably a psychopath. 

He’s incredibly private of his room and things despite his attitude towards yours. You’re convinced he either has a secret lab or that’s where he’s storing the bodies. I was the good guy but due to unfortunate circumstances, I need to stab a bitch. But he’s a really good serious talker for those 3am, because everything happens at 3am, talks about life and the meaning of the universe. It absolutely wrecks your sleep schedule but some of the things you talk about are the most crackhead things like what’s the lowest amount of money someone would have to pay you to walk outside without clothes? It’s a legitimate question. 

“Never before have I been so offended with something I 100% agree with.”

Jean

Okay, what world did you save in a past life to live with his absolutely wonderful woman? Mother Teresa take a load off, take a seat. You have nothing to worry about. She’ll bring home little treats back home and it’s the most wholesome thing ever?? Is this what love and affection feels like? We’ve been starved for so long. She says it’s not a big deal and anyone would do it BUT THE MOMENT SOMEONE BUYS FOOD FOR YOU. IT’S A MAGICAL MOMENT. They are forever stuck in your will until proven otherwise. An absolute ray of sunshine that must be protected. 

She does get super busy so you don’t often see each other or get to hang out as much. She’s a bit of a workaholic but a lot more easier to talk her into taking a break. She’s also a pretty decent cook but she prefers baking and jesus christ, girl can you calm down? Be still my beating heart, I’ve been smitten. Has mother hen vibes that you’re not sure if she’s your roommate or if she adopted you into her family. It’s time to start a petition for the Jean protection squad. Given the opportunity, I would aggressively hold your hand. 

She’s always open to whatever you want to do. Any recommendations or things that you like she will try out at least once despite her busy schedule. She’s lowkey lonely because work consumes her so any time you want to hang out or do something together, she jumps on it like she’s feral. She get’s a bit shy to ask if she can join in on your plans because she doesn’t want to bother you or intrude no matter how many times you tell her that’s okay, she still get’s a bit iffy about it. Please save this girl before she trips. In your arms. Platonically. Just kidding haha. Unless?

“I can’t wait to see you happy and not hating everyone again haha.”

Childe

First impressions of Childe were great, until he opened his mouth and you realized how much of a two brain cell child(e) he was. He has two braincells because they constantly have to 1v1 in his brain. He’s lived with a lot of siblings so he has no social awareness or concept of privacy that you’re lucky if you come home and he’s half-dressed. It doesn’t matter if you’re 2 weeks older than him, he’s going to call you 82 years old and why your bones aren’t being fossilized at this point. He’s such a little shit, this fucker licks the yogurt lid peel.  

He get’s really restless when he’s stuck under house arrest, because apparently 1v1ing in the parking lot of a Wendy’s is illegal for some reason, so he makes dying whale noises until he get’s to go outside again. But he’s actually a really wholesome guy, probably because of his younger siblings, that he’ll sometimes get you something because you seemed down and it’s such whiplash? Who is this man and where did he come from? You’re starting to have a change of heart before he tells you that he got banned from the library for accidently punching the school’s computer. How you “accidently” punch something you have no idea but Childe always comes home with some sort of injury. Maybe he’s just incredibly clumsy. For your sanity, you’re going to go with that. 

He’s actually so uncultured that it’s crippling. You can’t blame him too much considering his upbringing and it’s great that he’s so interested in learning new things but...child no...It makes you want to take your spine out of your ass and rip it like a Beyblade. Watching him take chopsticks and stab his food like it’s marshmallows makes you want to fall into a blackhole and let the chair consume you. 

“I, too, fantasize about beating the living shit out of people.”

---

Is this another tag yourself game cause I resonate with Diluc. I’m crying in insomnia. As much as I enjoy writing these fics I absolutely hate tagging them. I remember I used to have a tag anon but that was back when I wrote for bnha. 

Valentine’s Day was fun tho. I had a drinking game with friends as we played league then ended it off with a movie night. 

[bontenten]

Sleeping Beauty

Pairing: Shirabu x f!reader WC: 5.6k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairy tale retelling, incest, dubcon/noncon, drugs (sleeping pill), somnophilia, abusive past relationship, implied rape (not Shirabu), panic attack, victim-blaming, hero-complex with a bit of god-complex, hints of yandere, uhh medical malpractice, Shirabu’s bangs

Summary: The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. Shirabu will do everything he can to keep you in a safe haven where you can freely dance with your prince once upon a dream.

A/N: This is a part of the whorehouse intoxicated collaboration, rest of the pieces of this toxic journey can be found here! Thank you Ria and Angel for helping beta <3 Love you both so much.

Unofficial bgm: Once Upon a Dream & Once Upon a December 

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers, pulling you back by a handful of hair. You feel a blanket of pain shoot across your scalp. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

"G-get away from me!" 

You thrash and kick your legs wildly hoping something will land. The moment you hear a pained grunt and feel his grip loosen, you scramble up to your feet and run. Your shoes grate against wet cement as you take off. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you will your legs forward one after another. The caw of birds seem to act as a beacon leading you through the twists and turns of the terrain.

A left turn here, two blocks straight. Past the corner store and beyond the stoplight. Three blocks. Right turn. Two Blocks. Five steps away. Four...Three..Two...Safety...

----

"In the forest, the princess played with a lot of animal friends. She grew up there in the cottage with three fairies looking after her."

Thunder claps and lightning strikes outside.

"It's so loud Kenjirou-nii!" you cry, burying yourself into Shirabu's arms.

"Shh, I'm here," Shirabu coos, rocking you back and forth until your sobs subside. "One day, the princess was singing with the songbirds..."

Shirabu begins to recount the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty to you, slowly easing your mind away from the turbulence outside.

"Do you think you can sleep now?"

You shake your head and jump again when the thunder claps over the roof of the house.

"It's okay, I'm right here. Big brother’s always going to protect you."

"Like the prince protecting the princess?"

"Yes, exactly. You're always my princess, now go to sleep. I'll wake you when the sun's up.”

After a while, you calm down and slowly drift into sleep with your breaths evening out. Shirabu pulls the covers over both of you and enters sleep as well.

The winds continued to howl outside the window...the branches tapping...tapping against the window...tap...tapping…

----

Shirabu Kenjirou opens his eyes. He had just fallen asleep while studying for the third time that night. There is no use staying at the library if he is going to treat it as a hotel; he’ll be better off going home first. He yawns and stretches his neck, then packs his bags to return to his apartment. There are few students left in the building at this ungodly hour. Dark clouds loom overhead and the air is filled with the pitter patter of autumn rain hitting cement. Shirabu zips up his coat, opens his umbrella, and walks into the dark.

You would have been so frightened by this sort of weather, whimpering under your blankets, counting sheep with shaky breaths. Just like how you did in that dream of his earlier.

While growing up, Shirabu hadn't cared all that much about anything else considering he spent most of his time with his studies or playing volleyball. Although there was you, his little sister, he figured you had your little bubble anyway. But on a stormy night, you teetered down the hall after finding your parent’s room locked. Afraid and sleepy, you looked for comfort elsewhere and arrived at Shirabu’s room.

Shirabu had been most irritated and decided to shoo you out with strings of curses and profanities, but he couldn’t. The sight of your form huddled right outside his bedroom, with young eyes pleading for him took hold of a bit of humanity in Shirabu’s heart. So, he let you into his room, a safe haven, and eventually a world that was composed of only the two of you against the rest of the world.

Shirabu has known for a long time that you are the most brilliant, precious, and purest thing he’ll ever encounter. Always perfect. Forever unsullied. 

There are many things that Shirabu wants to shield you from. If he can secure one more hour of innocence, one more day, one lifetime, he’ll do so without a moment of hesitation. The real world is unlike the fairy tales that you hear about while growing up. 

The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. There isn’t a handsome prince the princess meets in a forest. No color changing cake. No kiss of love. In the real story, the princess is put into an endless slumber and has her virginal body taken by some unknown beast of a king, used like a rag for his carnal pleasure. When he leaves, the sleeping girl is then forgotten like trampled daisies under the hooves of horses. And she will wake to find her womb bulged with bastard life as a result of the damnation. The stretches clawing around the navel as permanent reminders that nothing will wash him from her.

The real world is dark. Horrible. Wretched. Dirty. Filled with suffering. That is why he, Shirabu Kenjirou, responds to the call to action and enters a life of service. In his heart he yearns to save and help, even if just a little, by becoming a prince with a white coat. He will not give up trying to salvage pieces of humanity he’ll touch, and in the process, carve out a haven, a little forest with a cottage, for his dearest sister to safely live in.

It has been a while since he last heard from you. Partly his own fault, really. Ever since Shirabu entered university and then medical school, the number of times you two would meet up dwindled. The hours on the phone became texts and soon after, communication vanished into mostly silence.

You are in university now, grown up and stepping into the real world, but that doesn't mean you are no longer his little sister. And because you are the one and only, Shirabu feels that he should try to do a better job as an older brother and check-in with you to see how you are doing. So, Shirabu takes out his phone that’s still on silent after studying.

27 missed calls from Sister 

Shirabu pauses in his tracks and returns the call. Cars zoom by on the streets while he waits for the line to connect. 

He was right, you must have been frightened.

The first call doesn’t connect, so Shirabu immediately tries the second time. You pick up on the third attempt.

"It's me, I'm so sorry I didn't pick up earlier."

"K-Kenjirou-nii..." your voice weakly translates over the speaker. 

Shirabu presses the phone closer to his ear and turns up the volume. "Where are you now," he demands. "At school?"

"...Your place..." Your voice sounds so dangerously faded, like petals beaten to the ground from the rain.

Shirabu bolts. His apartment is just a couple blocks away. Around the corner just up ahead. Shirabu makes a sharp turn and splashes through a puddle. 

"Stay...on the phone with me," he urges, paying no mind to his soaked shoes and socks.

You nod in understanding, as if he’ll hear your action.

"I'm almost there okay, almost."

Shirabu isn’t lying. A few moments later you hear the frantic footsteps coming closer to you. The stomping noises make your skin crawl, but the familiar face of your brother melts those fears away. He appears with his wet bangs stuck to his face and his shoulders heaving up and down. It’s him, your niichan, your prince finally here.

You scramble up and dive into his open arms, in relief that you are safe at last, as you finally allow tears to mix with rain.

"I was so scared. I missed you so much, Kenjirou-niichan," you sob into Shirabu's wet coat. "Where were you, where were you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm here now, I'm sorry," Shirabu apologizes, "Let's go inside first, alright? We’re both drenched.”

----

Under the bright lights of the living room, Shirabu gets a better look at you. You catch his discerning eyes studying you up and down, visually tracing the markers of your demise. That’s when you crack.

“Kenjirou-nii...the real world, the world is a horrible place. I trusted him, you know? I trusted that man.”

Foolish and stupid, Shirabu wants to say. It’ll be easy to simply yell at you.

Shirabu is not someone without a temper. He was quite known for it back in his high-school days. The bruises, the scars that did not heal well. Shirabu reminds himself to keep his composure, especially in front of you. He’s to be a doctor. He’s to be a protector, a savior. And with the training he already has so far, Shirabu knows he’s already as good as any board certified, licensed white-robed saint. He just needs to do what he’s meant to do. Heal. Clean. Purify.

After listening to your brief tale, Shirabu tells you not to worry about anything else tonight other than take a hot shower and get some rest. He gives you a reassuring smile and sends you off to the bathroom with towels and a large t-shirt.

While you wash-up and lose your thoughts piecing together the messy events of the night, Shirabu paces in the living room after he changes his own wet clothes. Nevermind the medical books he still needs to pour over, all Shirabu wants to do right now is track down the culprit and stick a scalpel through his socket. No, that’s just too easy. That bastard deserves something much more horrible, a slow and patient torture, a death within grasp but just out of reach. As if agreeing with Shirabu’s thoughts, your phone on the coffee table lights up. Shirabu picks up the device and watches the notifications pop-up.

Shirabu sees an unknown number call you. He doesn’t pick up, letting the phone ring while he reads the numbers across the screen and commits them to memory. The phone calls stop and an onslaught of texts follow; some coherent and others far from decipherable. There are messages of broken apologies and confessions of persistent love. Requests for you to go back to him. Shirabu scoffs at the language.

Shirabu continues to wait with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin. How dare the man behind that accursed number treat you, his little sister and princess, in such a foul manner. This beast who stole from you. Who is the reason behind the tainting of your now sullied innocence. 

Finally after a few minutes of silence, the screen lights up with a series of curses and condemnation that show the man’s true colors. A morphed beast due to your lack of response. Shirabu scrolls through the list of notifications again with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin. 

"You will pay," Shirabu seethes, taking a knife from the kitchen and ramming the sharp end straight into the device glass. The phone buzzes desperately and goes dark. You have no use for that phone anymore after all of this anyway, and the cursed number is already memorized by Shirabu for his own purposes.

----

Shirabu’s room is tidy. The two bookshelves on either side of the table are filled with books, photos, and many other accolades. That’s your older brother alright: perfect, proper, always right. Always right about everything, except one thing. The world you know really isn’t the wonderland he told you about growing up. Not at all. 

You bury your face into Shirabu's pillows and will yourself to sleep. You are safe here in his bed. It’s a haven...safely tucked in a forest. You are in a forest. The trees and the breeze. Songbirds are singing. 

You can dance here, twirl about...safe...free…

The trees melt.

Birds squawk and screech, scampering away…

Ink engulfs you....swallowing you whole

Falling...falling…

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

NO! you try to scream. You can��t, the weight on your chest sinks you deeper, only silence is uttered...choked…

Wake up.

Wake up.

"Wake up!"

Your eyes fly open and you see him. Him. A blood curdling shriek finally tears through your throat and you thrash. "Getawaygetawaygetaway! NO!"

"It's me, hey, it's me. You're okay, you're safe." Shirabu’s eyes widen with worry at your outburst, but gives you ample space to breathe and compose yourself.

This familiar voice. It does not belong to him. It’s definitely not him.

"...Kenjirou-nii?" you ask quietly. The shadow is backlit from light coming in through the door and your vision is still fuzzy from the nightmare.

A tender hand closes around yours. "Shhh, it's okay, you're okay now. It was a bad dream, you're safe. You're safe. I'm here."

Cold sweat runs down your temples. Your breath is fast and shallow.

"Follow me, okay. Breathe in..." Shirabu takes a deep breath. You follow his voice and movement as if they are lanterns guiding you through a maze. "And breathe out. Good, you're doing great. Breathe in...and out..."

You feel your mind slowly beginning to clear with each inhale and exhale. Finally, you see Shirabu clearly again. You can smell the scent of his body wash from him. The texture of the blanket rubs against your fingertips. You’re here in Shirabu’s room. Safety. Haven. 

"I'll be right back," Shirabu tells you, before leaving you for a moment and going towards the bathroom. He opens the medicine cabinet, pops out a few white pills from a box.

"Here," he says holding out the small tablets in the middle of his palm. The off-white seems to almost glow in the dark.

"It's zolpidem, a sleeping pill I sometimes take for insomnia. It'll help you for tonight, and then we'll get you something else tomorrow that'll work better."

You look at the pill and then at Shirabu. Shirabu is someone you love and trust with all your heart. His embrace is your anchor and haven when the rest of the world has turned a blind eye. He’s your brother. One and only. There’s no reason not to trust him.

"I won't see him will I?"

"No," Shirabu affirms. The pills don't really manipulate dreams, but if reassuring you can placebo sweet dreams, then what harm really is there? He didn’t pass Ethics with top marks for nothing.

Shirabu gently presses the pill body against your lips and you part them, allowing the small object to slip through. He feeds another and you open your mouth obediently. You look at Shirabu’s eyes which are fixated on the way your lips wrap around his three fingers.  Kenjirou-nii’s lashes are so nice and pretty, you think. 

One gulp of water later, and you feel nothing but a cold sensation traveling down your throat and disappearing into your belly.

"It'll take about half an hour, I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," Shirabu says. He supports your back and gently lowers you back into the comforts of the plush mattress. Shirabu will surely carry the same attentiveness and care when he becomes a full-fledged doctor. You are sure of it. The big brother you grew up with has truly grown up and matured. But no matter how much he changes or how much you mess up, he’ll always be your big brother.

"Can you lie down next to me again, like when we were young?"

An innocent request from a patient-in-need. Shirabu complies and lies down next to you.

"I remember when we were young, I would make you dance with me to live out my princess dreams. You remember?”

Afternoons next to the stereo, crayons scattered on the floor. The smell of something baking in the kitchen. Shrieks and laughter in the living room. Even though Shirabu would be mildly annoyed at first, he found humoring your imagination to be a pleasant and soothing experience. Even he was sometimes whisked away from textbooks into a magical forest that was just you and him. The stress and burdens of everything else all seem so much lighter on his shoulders when you’re simply just there.

"Of course I remember, silly."

You hum softly and continue waiting for the medicine in your bloodstream to make its way through your body.

"Do you...remember the sleeping beauty story you would always tell me?"

"Yea?"

You pause for a moment before quietly asking, "Kenjirou-niichan, why did you lie to me?"

Shirabu does not respond and only glances over at you, eyeing your closed lids. Closed though they may be, the tiny beads of glimmering tears are beginning to emerge from between the lashes and trail down your cheeks.

"There is no prince, Kenjirou-nii...no prince for me, no one...niichan...," you mumble between your breaths. The drug is starting to take its effect, ushering your mind into another dimension far away from hurt and pain. It swallows you like a pit of ink, sinking you deeper and deeper...

----

Kenjirou-nii, why did you lie? Earlier, Shirabu felt his breath hitch when you asked that. 

He calls out your name softly, brushing over your cheeks, and listening to your soft breathing for a good while to make sure you are in fact asleep. At long last, maybe this is a good dream.

A lie? No! Not a lie, Shirabu wants to tell you. For you, his dearest sister, who only ever deserves happiness, in the rawest and truest form. You are supposed to have a life of others giving gifts of love, never having to offer anything of your own.

Shirabu feels his blood boil once more at the thought of that man who stole your innocence away. The one who took your body for his own carnal pleasures. The one who dared to steal you from him, Shirabu Kenjirou. If Shirabu's nails are not kept in immaculate condition for his profession, no doubt, his grip would be drawing blood from his palms.

Those marks and scars across your skin. Shirabu traces his finger down your neckline and along your arms...

Your head turns from left to right and you manage to shrug the big collar of the t-shirt off your shoulder. Shirabu can see, under the glow of moonlight from the cleared night sky, a nasty mark. A permanent mark. And before he realizes it, his fingers are already traveling over, tracing along and testing out the patterns and bumps.

Shirabu feels his chest burn beyond the anger and fury. Guilt. Where was he all this time when you were suffering? Why hadn't you just called him then? Anguishing thoughts of his little sister writhing in pain under that beast's grasps tear Shirabu apart. Did you cry? Were you scared? All these years studying for what? For what noble purpose is Shirabu trying to pursue if he can’t even save those closest to him?

Shirabu continues to search for any other marks or discolorations that are splayed across your skin like a map. It is what it is now. But Shirabu still has his calling. He is a man who answers to a life of service and healing: a prince in a white coat. No matter what happens, even if you’re tainted now, you’ll still be his little sister.

Even if your naivety and stupidity got you into the mess in the first place. Of course, why didn’t you listen to your brother’s warnings and stay in a safe haven like a good girl? Stay in your room and study for your future like a good student? Like him? Why did you think running off for fun, enjoying “youth and freedom” like the other degenerates would be a good idea?

Shirabu grits his teeth. Look at you now, damaged and past the point of no return, used. Injured and ill. Still, he needs to get the full story first, and see where else you might possibly be hurt. A complete diagnosis needs to come first. After the messages from the man, Shirabu is all the more certain that there are more clues left, and he needs evidence. He needs to know. The comforter is pulled away and careful hands examine the lines of your palms.

Once upon a time, you grabbed Shirabu’s hand and tried to use the methods of schoolyard palm-reading on him. You even exclaimed, “Kenjirou-niichan, this line means you’ll live a long life! And we can be together forever because my life line is really long too!”

Shirabu smiles at the memory and presses a kiss to the center of your palm. It must have been so painful, how could you have possibly endured? But you did and you survived. You are so brave. 

Probing fingertips trace across your collarbone and push the fabric of the large t-shirt up to reveal your torso. Shirabu blinks, realizing that this is now the body of a fully matured woman. You take a deep breath in your sleep from the cold air running across your exposed breasts. Shirabu can see the nipples perk up from the chill and hesitantly touches the bud with a hint of academic curiosity.

“Mmm, that tickles...” you giggle softly. Your hand pushes Shirabu's off and scratches the same spot he just traced, fondling your own breast briefly before letting go and continuing to sleep. Even grown up now, still the same adorable little sister.

Shirabu lets himself tease your nipples and knead the soft flesh of your breasts, toying around and watching your cute little expressions. Sometimes you’ll respond again and paw the tickling hands away. It’s fun, like playing a little game.

But when he lets his eyes wander down, Shirabu’s eyes narrow. Below the breasts, on either side of the waist, Shirabu sees damning marks of deep purple turning into a disgusting yellow. Like cursed claw marks. Shirabu hesitantly presses on the bruise, watching the color transform under his touch. He stops immediately when you begin to whine in pain. Carefully, Shirabu presses a kiss on these markings too, just like any other little injury you sustained in the past. A kiss so the pain flies away.

Foolish, foolish girl. Naive princess. Why did you let this happen to yourself? In the future, don’t run anymore. Stay here where it’s safe. 

There is just one place left Shirabu did not examine yet, a hidden spot that is supposed to be locked away that someone else discovered. Shirabu looks down at the dark lace panties obstructing his view like gates of a castle. It’s a poor “keep out” message; if anything it entices anyone who sees it to come in. A tempting invitation to see what’s behind.

Shirabu allows his clean fingers to easily slip through and begin a thorough investigation through the soft folds of flesh. His fingertips dip into a pool of wetness. He furrows his brows. When did this happen? 

Why are you wet? His eyes focus on your sleeping face that still has a relaxed smile. What are you dreaming about that makes your body like this? Shirabu drags the fingers covered with your slick to circle your clit. In response your thighs clamp and twitch. So sensitive, still inexperienced, even if you’re sullied. 

Shirabu slides the soaked panties off and pushes your thighs apart so he can continue his examination. That person must have touched this area too, his fingers have been here, and then…plunged his fingers into you like so. Your body trembles as Shirabu’s two fingers probe in, fully examining your inner anatomy. Soft, warm muscles clamp tightly around his digits and try to stop them from entering further. It’s for your good and his knowledge. He pushes deeper into you, dragging alongside the bumps and ridges of your walls.

You whine loudly and arch your back when Shirabu’s fingers find a sweet spot. Your head shifts on the fluffy pillows.

“Did you like that? Did that feel good?” Shirabu asks, probing your hole once more. As if in agreement, your body twitches again and your hips automatically roll against the palm, pressing your sensitive clit into the surface. Your breathy sighs are soft and sweet, unlike any other sound Shirabu has heard from you. It’s like a spell that enchants Shirabu and beckons for him. He shudders as he feels his cock responding to each noise coming out from between your lips.

It’s good, something feels so good. Under the sunlight, you feel warmth pooling throughout your body. There are tingles in the soles of your feet, like grass tickling skin while running around barefoot. Your body feels so light and relaxed. It’s warm and you’re not in this forest alone. The shape of a prince appears. You know he’s a prince because his voice is gentle and his touch feels safe.

If this feels good, it’s only because this is an act of love. If this makes you happy, it’s because it’s love. If it’s love, it’ll fill the empty pools of hurt. And if you’ll be whole again, you’ll heal. Shirabu makes up his mind and caresses your cheeks tenderly, So beautiful. Always beautiful. A sleeping beauty. His hand reaches to the waistband of his pants.

The prince rests his hand on your hips and excitement jolts through your body. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile back.

Shirabu freezes the moment he feels your arms wave into the air and reach for him. The sneaky fingers run across his skin.

"Dance..with me," you slur before falling back into silence.

The alarm washes away when he confirms you are still sound asleep.

"Are you dreaming of your prince?" Shirabu asks while tearing open a condom packet. Medical safety. He should have worn gloves earlier too, if he wasn’t already too entranced. "Dancing? Then I'll dance with you."

Forever. I'll be your prince, my sweet darling.

Shirabu runs the length of his hardened cock along your glistening slit. Rather than take, rather than pillage and steal...Shirabu will give. Replace the gross markers of pain with soft fleeting kisses. Replace the innocence stolen with love given unconditionally. Shirabu will give you all the love you deserve and more.

Shirabu’s fingers weave into your delicate ones, the palms join together, and your fingertips automatically lock with your niichan’s. It’s the starting position for a waltz in the forest, once upon a dream.

The man takes the initiation, the leading step. Shirabu closes the gap, sinking his length into your sweet embrace in a fluid and wet squelch. You respond, digging your nails and tightening your grip on his hands. Your other arm hugs around your partner, your niichan, pulling his body close against yours. Your blank eyes flutter open briefly to look straight at the shadow of Shirabu. Of course, you don’t see anything, you’re actually in a warm forest shyly gazing at your prince. Shirabu almost thinks that he woke you up, but you only let out a quiet moan before your body relaxes again.  

Shirabu groans and rests his cock in your warm and tight embrace. This is the way it should be, how it ought to be done. No one else can lead you in this dance the way he can. The way he will. This is not the self-fulfilling king stealing the princess’s virginal body for his own pleasure. This is the loving prince who loves and gives selflessly. Your big brother knows you the best, knows how you’ll respond, knows how you’ll like it. Shirabu slowly draws himself out and thrusts back in.

The prince presses himself so close to you, and you inhale sharply. During the waltz, you always have to maintain body contact with your partner. You feel his breath on your cheeks, and you’re sure he can feel your hammering heartbeat. The intimacy builds in the tender but secure hold. The steps are quick but the movements are not violent. It’s just enough that the heat stirring in your core spreads throughout your body.

Breaths become more labored and raspy into the act. Shirabu sees your face morph into bliss as he continues his pace and rocks his hips into you. His own brows furrow as Shirabu feels his grip over rationality falling apart with each thrust. Each flutter of your walls against him only invites him to come in deeper, farther. Harder. 

“...K-Kenjirou-nii...,” you softly cry out.

Your honeyed voice is a thick syrup trapping Shirabu, coaxing him. It’s like a melody inviting a weary traveler, a lost prince, in for rest. Your voice, your body, it’s tantalizing.

"Too good," Shirabu groans to himself. Why is it so good? You, his little sister, how? He looks down towards where he sees his cock, covered with your fluids, disappear into you. The thin latex barrier doesn’t stop how close the two of you are, Shirabu feels each clench and spasm around him. “My little sister, I didn’t know…” 

Shirabu can now understand just why that man did all that to you. Why that man wants to keep you by his side. Why he incessantly sends messages and tries to manipulate you back into their world.

It’s the only explanation, really, when you don’t even know how bewitching your body is. How enticing your voice is. Anyone would want to keep it as their own. Your warmth, your sweet, sweet hole. This cunt of yours is itself a safe haven. And Shirabu feels like he’s the one being made whole from you. It’s all because of you.

Each moan from you. Those gentle mewling cries, a witch’s spell, an incantation for addiction. That man is trying to manipulate you? How? When your whole existence manipulates everyone first, drawing them all in with the image of your unsullied purity.

Shirabu feels his impending release around the edge. His pace quickens and his thrusts meet with each of your twisting squirms. Your head tosses side-to-side on the pillow as your sleepy climax washes through.

Spin. Faster and faster in the forested ballroom. Twirl for the finale. You feel a dizzying jolt as the prince dips your body back. It’s a whirlwind of love. In your dream, the sunshine is so warm and growing so much hotter. It feels like you’re floating. So light and free. That prickling tickle in your feet is growing stronger until little fireworks set off across every corner of your body, filling you completely. The forest melts as the colors blend together in a dreamy painting. 

Euphoria, as Shirabu finishes spectacularly, clutching your sleeping body close to him in a messy ending pose. The final winds of the dead storm outside sound like a rumbling applause for this sinful waltz. He can hear his own pants and your shaky breaths mix into a fading duet. Shirabu lets himself bask for a moment, resting, entangled with you.

Everything makes sense now. He completely understands why the bastard king forces himself onto Sleeping Beauty. He completely understands why your allure is much too exquisite to pass on. Shirabu pulls out and carefully removes the condom, collecting the white essence you bewitched out from him into a little package with a tie. Dangerous little princess, that you are.

Even though Shirabu now fully understands the complete story after careful examination, there are still a few lines Shirabu will draw. One, that man has still committed a very grave sin, being the first to sample your purity, stealing that away from Shirabu? Damaging your flesh and skin? Unacceptable, he thinks as he tosses the used condom into the waste bin. A complete low-life who doesn’t know how to cherish. Punishment will be due.

Shirabu returns to the bed where your unconscious body is still sprawled between bunched sheets. His blank eyes study your spread legs and puffy cunt that’s still quivering every now and then. He taps his index finger against your sensitive clit. As if it is a magic button, your body briefly trembles on command. As if you are ready to enchant another unsuspecting traveler into your safe little haven. A little bit of fluid leaks out from your hole, presenting itself seductively. Welcome. 

Shirabu scoffs. And number two, you’ll be better off staying here with himself, your big brother. You’ll be safe here with a prince who knows best how to love you right, and give you the world. This is the way it should be; before you completely lose yourself into degeneracy and invite just about anyone into you. 

Those sleeping pills will be insufficient for the long-run. A different concoction while you are still healing from your terrible trauma will be needed. A cocktail of sorts that will target different needs. Yes. Shirabu files that thought away, putting it towards the top of his to-do list. There’s so many things he has to take care of. Too much pain in this world waiting for him to don white robes and be out there.

“But you’ll always come first on niichan’s list,” Shirabu whispers, slipping your panties back on and pulling the comforters over your body. He’ll never allow you to be sullied again. You’ll stay here in this safe haven, like a little cottage tucked away in the forest. Dream here. Find happiness with the only prince you need.

The first rays of dawn begin to brighten the sky, shooing away the cloak of night. The first songs from the birds announce the arrival of a new day. The morning light filters through the windows of the room, spilling over onto the bed and your quiet, unmoving form.

Time to wake up now, sleeping beauty.

[beautifulhigh]

Work in Progress Wednesday

I want something light in my world at the moment, so have this section in which Grace and Carlos pass the time in the bank queue by talking about their men.

"Isn't Judd on shift?" Carlos asked. "You leave Charlie in the car?"

"Window's cracked," she quipped. "No, she's in day care. Lord knows I love that girl more than life itself, but her momma was a whole person before her and sometimes I think I forget that. Like there's not a thing of mine that doesn't have her stuff in now, don't think I own a bag that doesn't now have diapers and wipes and bags in. Does that make me a bad mom?"

"I think that makes you a good person. Taking time for yourself means Charlie gets the best version of you."

"This is why I like you," she laughed.

"Being a parent can't be easy."

"No, but it's amazing. And unexpected sometimes." She caught Carlos' look of confusion and smiled. "Wyatt," she added by way of explanation.

"Right. Yeah."

"Judd took to bein' a father like the proverbial duck with Charlie, and he stepped right up with Wyatt too. He's set up an account for him, money towards college or whatever he wants to do when he's grown up. I think Judd's tryin' to make up for missing out on so much, even though it weren't his fault."

"He's a good man, Grace."

"He's the best. Family comes first, full of love, nothing's too much. Think you've got one of them yourself."

Carlos smiled in agreement. "Yeah, I do."

"Anyway, he's set up this savings account for Wyatt, pays into it each month. He's tryin' to make up for all the time he's missed. Won't be a college fund or anything but it'll maybe buy a car or a trip if he wants."

"You're paying in too?" Carlos asked.

Grace shrugged as they took a single step forward. "He's Judd's family so he's my family."

"You're good people."

"We're tryin'," she smiled. "Didn't reckon on having a teenager in my home this soon though. We love havin' him over and it's great that he gets a chance to build a proper relationship with Judd, but between that and Charlie's teething it just feels like a lot, you know?"

"Not really," Carlos smiled.

"Well it is. She's amazing but there are times when I just think about everything that we've been through and what's coming and I pray for the strength to get through it. I have no idea how my mama did this more than once." She stopped and threw a look over at Carlos. "Sorry. I'm rambling."

"No, it's fine," he said. "You ramble away. Ask me, all mothers are amazing for what they go through."

"You're a good son," she laughed, "your momma raised you right."

"She'd be pleased to hear that," Carlos laughed too.

"You ever think about it? Kids I mean," Grace asked before shaking her head. "Sorry. Not my place, forget I asked."

"Yeah," Carlos said. "I've thought about it. Not talked about it yet, we're working our way there though."

"You'll be amazing dads. Charlie adores you."

"We love her."

"I'll remember that next time I need a babysitter."

"Do, please," Carlos said. "I think it helps TK, you know? He doesn't get to spend much time one-on-one with Jonah, video calls aren't quite the same. So spending time with Charlie means—"

"He's getting baby practice in, I get it. And maybe not just for his brother?"

"One step at a time, Grace."

"Fine, I'll stop," she said, holding her hands up in mock defeat. "You've heard my reason why I'm stuck in a bank queue on my day off, why do you need to close your account today?"

"That one step," Carlos said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked the screen and loaded up a webpage, showing the image to her. "I'm picking it up this afternoon."

"Carlos!" Grace exclaimed. "It's beautiful. He'll love it."

"I know," Carlos said.

"Well I hope he gets you a good ring too. Or do you buy them both? I'm sorry, is that insensitive?"

"It's fine, Grace," Carlos laughed. "I haven't got that far."

"So when are you going to ask--?"

"Haven't worked that out yet," Carlos said, looking at the engagement ring on his screen. "But we've started to talk about it. Kinda. Anyway, I saw it and it's perfect."

"It really is."

"Got a good deal for cash so for the past few months I've had this separate account. I don't want the purchase to show up on our cards or accounts because I don't want to put that pressure on him."

"He loves you."

"I know."

"Ask me, he'll want to marry you. He's got this look in his eye when he's watching you, same look I saw in Judd right before he was gettin' down on one knee."

"You think?"

"Oh I know. In fact, wouldn't be surprised if he's planning his own proposal. Don't suppose it matters who asks who, right? So long as there's a yes. And there will be a yes."

"You seem very sure of that."

"We've watched you two these past few years dance around each other before you settled down and started building something really good. Something that's gonna last and I think you know that."

[tinyyoungblood]

okay amazing here goes...so SOUR has been on repeat and your one-shot based on the album was super cute and just EVERYTHING 🥺 but also i was listening to 'traitor' the other day and the first line goes "brown guilty eyes and little white lies" and i just. the entire song puts me in the feels over a boyfriend i never had but anyway i was thinking what if...angst with peter parker!! maybe he's been more distant lately and lying about where he's been at nights or something? i'm not sure the world is your oyster!! thank you in advance💘 hehe

strangers with memories | peter parker

pairing: peter parker x reader

warnings: pure angst

a/n: “the world is your oyster” lol you’re so sweet <3 we don’t claim the peter parker in this fic because he knows better than this. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was nights like these that made you feel like everything was exactly how it was supposed to be. The window was opened, leaving outside noise from the street to breeze in and blend in with the lo-fi beats playing quietly from Peter’s laptop.

Your legs were tangled under a soft blanket as Peter showed you outfit pictures from his Pinterest board, asking for your opinion. It simply made sense. The world felt at peace.

“No, I don’t think you understand. Orange and teal look really good together, see.” Peter turned his phone around to show you his screen. You squinted at the brightness, but once your eyes adjusted, you burst out laughing.

“Sure, if you want look like Perry the Platypus. Get that away from me.” You shoved his hand away and Peter grinned. He swiped to another picture with the same colours combination, and you shrieked. “Not the brown beanie! Dr. Doofenshmirtz would have a field day with this.”

Peter chuckled. He rose to his feet and tossed his phone next to you on the mattress. “I’m going to the bathroom”, he declared with an air of casualness that made you crack a smile. He was halfway through the doorway when he popped his head back in and asked, “You want anything?”

“From the bathroom?” You looked up from your phone.

Peter shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Uh-huh.”

You suppressed your smile. “I’m good, thanks.” He gave you another shrug and left the bathroom, whistling a tune you didn’t know.

Not a second later, Peter’s phone gave off a subtle ping. It wasn’t your intention to look, but reflexes made you glance at it from the corner of your eyes. You regretted it instantly. Your shoulders tensed. It was just a text message—nothing scandalous, but the contact name made your stomach drop.

MJ.

Her name popped up on Peter’s phone screen more often than not. You really didn’t want to be bothered. You knew they were only friends, but you could already see the broad smile edging his face as he read the message. You hated where your thoughts had taken you.

Peter trusted you and you wanted to trust him as well, desperately. You demanded yourself to take the high ground. It still felt stupid and your chest caved in just at the thought of Peter grinning at his phone. He barely even answered your texts anymore.

You could already hear the white lies he was going to feed you. But you felt yourself wanting to keep the white lies. At least, that meant getting to keep Peter. All you could do was swallow the lump in your throat and take a deep breath. The world still blurred around you.

“May asked if you’re in the mood for Thai food.” Your gaze shot to Peter’s. He was leaning against the door frame, arms folded over his chest with the same calm expression as before. Don’t ruin this. Keep the peace.

You forced a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t like Thai food.”

Peter frowned at that. “Since when? You’ve always liked it.” He appeared almost affronted before realisation crossed his face. “Oh wait, my bad, MJ liked it. We actually just had Thai food together the other night with Ned.” A private smile curled around his lips at the memory.

“Sounds nice,” you replied weakly. It was all you could say.

Peter didn’t seem to mind. He pushed himself off and strolled over, picking up his phone to see the texts he had just received. He chuckled softly at whatever he had been sent and punched in a reply.

You simply sat there, fiddling with the blanket that suddenly felt too hot. Say something, the voice inside your head demanded. Be exciting. Don’t make him lose interest. Your hands curled into a fist. You felt ridiculous.

“So about Friday night,” you began awkwardly, feeling suddenly very out of place although there was nobody else in the room. Peter’s eyes were bright with delight as he typed away on his phone.

“Hm?” He said, and you had a feeling it wasn’t because he wanted to you to go on. He just wasn’t sure if you had spoken at all.

Your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile. “Are you going to pick me up or should we just meet there?”

Peter’s eyebrows creased. “Meet you where?”

“At the movies,” you said curtly. “We wanted to watch that movie, remember? It was your idea.” The bite in your tone finally made Peter look up. It was like watching a slow car crash.

“Was it?” Peter mused, and you nodded stiffly.

“Oh.”

From somewhere on the street, you heard people arguing. Their sharp voices cut into the room and drilled themselves into your chest. Don’t let this be us. That isn’t us. We’re better than that. You fixed your eyes on the curve of Peter’s neck, concentrating on his breathing to feel like he wasn’t drifting away. In reality, you knew that the ship was already leaving the harbour and there was nothing you could do.

“Sorry,” Peter finally said, lips pursed. “I kind of already made plans with MJ. Her uncle has this cool train collection that she wanted to show me. She told me about it at lunch today and I’m really excited. It’s pretty awesome.”

Your face dropped and he had the good sense to add, “But we can always catch the movie on Monday night if you want.”

“Why not on the weekend?” A part of you dreaded to hear the answer.

Peter didn’t hesitate as he waved you off. “Ned and I wanted to get started on that new Lego set I told you about.” You had no recollection of that. Peter’s eyes flickered to you before another text message came in, demanding his full attention. The sound made you feel nauseous. The ship was a dot now, fading into the horizon while you were still stranded.

“You can join us if you want,” Peter offered with eyes glued to his phone. “MJ is going to bring Thai food, I think.”

You didn’t bother to reply. You felt claustrophobic. Pushing yourself off his bed, you headed for the window. It was already opened by a crack, but you needed fresh air. It was almost overwhelming when you stepped over the window sill and let yourself out onto the fire escape. The stairs screeched but you didn’t care for the noise. What you needed was proof that there was more out there.

The railing was cold as you wrapped your hands around them. Each window across the street was alit in numerous colours. Silhouettes moved in those colours—people with their own lives and sorrows. The world continued to live.

You settled on one of the stairs and stared up at the night sky. No stars, nothing. You were really stuck at the harbour. Peter’s room was glowing in purple thanks to the LED strips you had set up together a few weeks ago. He had bought old vinyl records and you spent the entire night rating them until sunlight pooled in through the curtains. It all felt like a pipe dream now.

You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting outside by yourself. All you knew were the colour blocks of windows, shifting in and out of blurriness. You had been too busy watching the ship sail away that you only now realised how much you had starved yourself. One good night wasn’t going to change that. Your mind was just really good at leaving out the bad parts.

“Here you are.” Peter’s voice caught you off guard. You turned away, wiping your tearstained cheeks hastily as he watched you with knitted brows. “I just came to tell you that I invited Ned and MJ over. I hope that’s fine.”

When you didn’t reply, Peter stepped out and sat on the window sill. “You okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Do I look okay to you?”

“Well,” he said, “You’ve been acting weird all week, so…I’m not sure”

“I have been acting weird?” You echoed.

Peter hesitated but lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah, but you’re always smiling, so I just assume you’re all right.”

“You can’t be serious,” you said bitterly, tucking your hands under your thighs to stop them from shaking. “Just look what we’ve become. You can’t even tell anymore if I’m putting on a fake smile.”

“What are you talking about?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Oh, you know.” You waved your hand at nothing. “Air pollution, climate change, everything and nothing these days. But you wouldn’t know, would you.”

“Y/N,” Peter said with an edge to his voice. “Are you going to tell me what this is really about?”

You hadn’t realised that you had started pacing until his question made you halt and whip around. There was acid in your tone as you snapped, “Don’t you miss me at all?”

“What?” Peter looked stumped. “We see each other every day at school. You’re literally standing in front of me right now.”

You scoffed and sat back down on the stairs. “Love really does make people blind,” you murmured and stared at the sky. Maybe it was going to rain.

Peter exhaled sharply and knelt before you, lowering your chin to look you in the eye. He thought he could find an answer in them, but you knew that if he’d been blind to it all this time, he wasn’t going to see it now. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, and your chest ached.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I want you. That’s all I wanted.”

“Wanted? You have me.” Peter pressed his lips together. “You have me right now, Y/N.”

“I don’t.” You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “MJ has you. She’s had you for a while now, and I’m just here watching you both from afar.”

Peter opened his mouth, most likely wanting to deny it, but no sounds came out. He simply stared and stared and stared. Your heart was racing. There was no way back, so you went on, “I don’t care if you’re just friends. I really don’t care, because it hurts just as much knowing that I still let you treat me like that. I miss you and you’re sitting right in front of me. And you know what the worst part is?”

Memories flooded your mind, bricking you like thorns. You devoured them, hungrily, because you were used to living on crumbs. Peter holding you in his arms. Peter looking tenderly after your wounds and kissing your tears. Peter turning sorrow into bliss until you were drunk on laughter and the sky was dusted in stars.

A sad smile hung to your lips. “I still think the world of you. All those nights when I had prayed for someone like you. Someone who could be my safe person and I could be theirs—I thought I had that with you.”

“You do,” Peter hissed, and at once you wondered where he found the strength to believe his own lies. He sighed. “I promise you, you did. It’s just…” Your throat went dry as he bit his tongue. “It’s not something you can control, okay? Maybe you’re just not my only safe person anymore. It’s…it’s not a big deal.” Peter’s gaze dropped as your breath caught.

You were glad you were sitting. There was no doubt that your knees would’ve given out otherwise. His confession felt like a punch to the gut. That small, pathetic voice inside your head screamed and trashed, denying everything he’d just said. A part of you was always so hopeful—Peter used to love that about you.

Remember, it tried to reason, he promised he would never hurt you. Remember how it felt to have his arms around you. It couldn’t have been a lie. None of it could’ve been a lie. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“You’re not actually sorry,” you heard yourself say. “You’re just saying that to feel good about yourself. If you were sorry, you would’ve never made all those promises—” You didn’t have it in yourself to continue. No words would’ve done you justice anyway. “If you’re just going to keep hurting me, then leave me alone.”

Something dark flared in his brown eyes. “Leave you alone?” asked Peter incredulously. “This is stupid and you know it. All of this, just because I’m friends with MJ. Don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous? We’re just friends. There’s no reason for you to get paranoid.”

“I’m being paranoid now?” Your eyes narrowed.

“That’s what I would call it, yes.”

“Then tell me this.” You jumped to your feet. “Last week, when Mr. Harrison took points off my assignment because I supposedly handed it in too late, why didn’t you speak up for me? You were there, you knew I handed it in time. All I needed was for you to tell him the truth, but you didn’t say a damn thing. Now I’m failing that class, and you know why this is the first time you’re hearing about this?”

Peter remained silent, but his eyes flickered, and the crease between his brows was evidence enough.

“Because you were too distracted giggling with MJ in the back. You didn’t even notice when I stormed out of that room, so don’t lie to yourself, Peter. You haven’t been by my side in a while now.”

You shook your head when Peter averted his gaze. Of course, he had nothing to say. Both of you knew it wasn’t just about that class. It was about the missed calls, the empty words, and all the times he had stood you up and let you down. At least he respected you enough to not deny it. No more white lies.

“See, this is the thing,” you began, swinging your leg over the window sill to step inside the room. You faced Peter and waited until his gaze drifted to yours. “You gave me your word and I was stupid enough to believe you. I trusted you. It was supposed to be you and me against the world, but you sat back and watched it beat me down because you were too busy falling in love with somebody else.”

Peter’s expression shifted and you turned your back to him. Seeing his frustration replaced by realisation was something you knew you couldn’t stomach.

So you made to leave. It was only when you were halfway through the room that you recognised the feeling simmering in your gut as something a bit different than resentment. You looked back over your shoulder, eyebrows lowered, and struggled to find your voice.

“Peter?”

It was barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you. He tore his gaze from the floor and looked at you. Wild storms were trapped in his eyes, an ocean rising. It was devasting to look at.

But it was then that you realised, that although Peter had never cheated on you, his brown guilty eyes still made him a traitor. You took a deep breath.

“Just don’t treat her how you treated me,” was all you said. And with that, you were gone.

* * *

i’d really appreciate if you left some feedback since i barely ever write angst and want to know what you think:) stay hydrated guys