#this is 3.4k lmao

[tamaharu]

punches the air i finished my piece ive been agonizing about for months lets gooooooo

[selfcarecap]

Insatiable [L.H.]

Pairing: Logan Howlett x female!reader

Summary: Down in the void, where you can find all sorts of dangerous things, you didn’t expect a flower that makes you horny to be your biggest problem. Luckily, Logan is there to fuck that overwhelming feeling out of you.

Warnings: smut 18+, unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), spitting and hair pulling (reader pulls Logan’s hair) but just for a split second </3, dub con because of sex pollen but they want each other either way, Logan calls reader baby and good girl during sex, mention of masturbation (f), Wade watches them fuck technically without consent but it’s not mentioned until the end and it’s more of a joke, set during Deadpool & Wolverine but no major spoilers I just used a different gif because Logan is annoyed at Wade in every single one from that film lmao, Wade being Wade, Logan is taller than the reader, age gap implied (well actually it’s not implied but I’m telling you Logan’s older lmao), all porn no plot

Word Count: 3.4k

first Logan fic 🤭 pls be nice <333 

˚✮*✧*˚☆˚*✧

It shouldn’t shock you that the void is full of weird things — you came here with a mutant and a … well, whatever the fuck Wade is, after all. Yet, you’re still surprised when, on your way back from finding some bushes to pee in, you end up tripping over something and getting addicted to the smell of some glowing plant. 

The flower is bright pink and smells like your favourite perfume. You’re on all fours at this point, your face buried in the bud as you inhale its sweet, sweet scent. 

“What is she doing?” Logan asks from afar, an eyebrow raised in confusion. 

“Yoga?” Wade offers. Logan throws him a look — not helpful. 

Logan makes his way to you; the closer he gets the brighter the plant glows. This can’t be good. He calls your name when he gets to you but you’re in a trance, you don’t even seem to hear Logan. You’re humming — no, moaning?— to yourself, arching your back and lowering yourself to your forearms. 

He pulls you up by your arm and almost flinches at your sudden outburst. “Let me go!” You shout, hitting his chest, and when you look up at him your pupils are so large Logan isn’t sure it’s really still you in there. 

You go to slap Logan so you can get back down but his hand slides down your arm to hold your wrist, his other hand at your waist to keep you in place. 

“Look at me,” Logan orders and, oh you’re looking at him. 

The smell the plant was giving off wasn’t your favourite perfume at all, you realise, it was the smell of Logan. A hint of his aftershave, a little bit of sweat, and all that manly musk. You realise you need him right now. 

You involuntarily arch your back to get closer to him, your chest against the hard of his suit. He’s looking down at you, a mixture of worry and confusion. You reach up to claw at Logan’s collar but he easily holds you off. 

“You okay, bub? What was that?” He looks down to kick at the plant and as it breaks off at the stem the plant gives off a last shake of glittery dust, grows grey, and then dies. You slowly turn your head from the floor to Logan’s face — he’s wearily awaiting your next move. 

“I’m not okay, Logan. I need you right now,” you pull at his collar once more but he has you in a tight grip at the waist — which does nothing but turn you on more. 

“Wade! Come here,” Logan calls, and you see a flicker of red in your periphery coming towards you, but you don’t take your eyes off the man in front of you. 

When you stand still for a few seconds, that’s when the ache really hits you. You clench around nothing and you’re suddenly aware of how wet you are. You’ve never needed to come so badly in your life, but Logan’s got you held firmly in place, no matter how much you squirm. 

Wade sees the plant immediately, even greyed out and dead, “What’s this?” He walks towards it. 

Logan grabs Wade’s arm. “Don’t,” he grits.

With only one of his arms on you, you take the chance to reach up at Logan’s face, try to kiss him, but his hand is back on you before you can even get on your tiptoes. You let out a pained moan and both their heads snap towards you. 

“She was smelling that flower. Now she’s..” Logan looks down at you, which intensifies your need, but he’s careful of what to say. You only met a few days ago and he doesn’t want to humiliate you, doesn’t know how deep down the real you is by now. 

“Horny?” Wade asks, looking at you, “Holy shit, girl, look at your eyes. See, a woman after my own heart. That’s exactly how I look at Logan too—“

“Wade!” Logan shouts, jaw clenching, “We need to get her somewhere safe.”

“Don’t need anywhere safe. Need you,” you mumble, attempting to free yourself from Logan’s grip. He’s so effortlessly strong it makes your mouth water and the place between your thighs even wetter. 

Wade bends down, careful not to get too close to the plant, assessing it. “Easy. It’s sex pollen.”

“What the fuck is that?” Logan half-shouts.

“Have you never read fanfiction? It makes you crazy horny until you’re fucked by the person you’re into the most,” Wade explains, then sighs, looking at you, “Sad that it’s not me, sugarcakes, I’ll be honest.” 

You ignore him, still attempting to get out of Logan’s grasp to climb him like a tree.

Logan groans at Wade, “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“No, have you met me?”

Suddenly you’re lifted off the ground and Logan slings you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing at all. His arm grips you just below your ass, and it makes you clench your thighs together, trying to get any type of friction. You attempt to get down but his arm only tightens around your legs and even though your entire upper body is free, hanging off the back of him, you’re helpless. 

-

You squirm and wriggle and moan but all to no avail. Logan’s ignoring you. You feel your underwear getting wetter with his every step and breath and movement, and you’re sure he must be able to smell you at this point. 

Your arousal has turned into nothing other than a pulsing pain and you feel tears springing to your eyes with your sexual frustration. You mumble Logan’s name but you’re too weak to really say anything, too weak to even try and get out of his grasp anymore.

A shadow is cast over you and you see the sand under you turn into a solid floor. Suddenly you’re being lifted back up and Logan sits you on top of a table. You’re in a… diner? You don’t really care, filled with a new energy as you see Logan towering over you, concern written on his face – concern you’re ready to turn into lust.

You sit up with force, ready to pounce on him, but he pins you back to the tabletop immediately, his big arms holding your wrists down.

“Don’t wanna do that, sweetheart,” – the nickname makes you moan right in his face, hips trying to arch up but he’s too far – “We’re gonna need you to calm down, okay? And we’re gonna wait it out.”

“No,” you begin to shake your head quickly, giving Logan your best puppy eyes, “I can’t wait. Need to cum. I’m so wet, Logan. Please.”

“As much as I wish it wasn’t, that’s my cue to leave,” Wade waves, whispering, “I hope you think of me when you come” (you’re not sure if he’s saying it to you or to Logan) and walks out the door.

Logan is distracted for a second, watching Wade leave, and you yank your hand out of his grasp to unzip the front of your suit and push a hand into your underwear. You cry out when you finally get to touch your clit, puffy and wet all over, and for a second Logan can’t keep his eyes off your panties. His gaze lands on your tits almost spilling out of your bra from all the movement and then he takes hold of your wrist once again.

“I’m gonna leave and then you can touch yourself all you want, hm? That sound like a plan?” Logan says, voice quiet and hoarse and all you can do is shake your head at him.

“‘S not gonna be enough. Need you. Please,” you moan again, and you see him clench his jaw in restraint.

“I can’t, you know I can’t. Don’t know if you’d want this otherwise. Wouldn’t be right of me.”

You somehow manage to yank his hand down with yours and shove it into your panties.

“Does this feel like I don’t want you, Logan? You’re all I want. Been making myself come every day since I met you wishing it was you instead.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, baby, don’t know what you’re asking for,” Logan’s voice is strained. His thumb starts rubbing your clit instinctively, as if he can’t control himself. He moves slightly to get a better angle and you see the bulge pressing against his pants. He’s so big you moan out his name loud enough to echo through the building.

“Know exactly what I’m asking for. Please, Logan. It’s not gonna stop until you make me come. I’m begging you.” He looks at you with uncertainty. Then he’s pulling your arms out of your suit and ripping the rest down your legs.

“I’m gonna make you come, okay? I’ll eat your pussy as many times as you need me to. That alright?” He kneels in front of you and pulls you to the edge of the table. 

You want to ask him to fuck you but all you can manage to say right now is to let out a whiny “Mhmmm.”

Logan wastes no time taking one of your thighs over his shoulder and pulling your soaked panties to the side. He looks ready to surrender and give you what you really need but he stays firmly in his place.

“Look what a mess you’ve made, baby. Such a pretty fucking pussy. I’ll make you feel better, okay? ‘M gonna make you come.” 

Without another word his tongue is on you, licking broadly over your clit and then sucking as much as he can into his mouth. You arch your back and press your hips into his face. His hands come to the top of your thighs to hold you down, palms hot against your skin. 

“Feel good?” He mumbles against your pussy and you sit up on your elbows. 

“So fucking good, Logan. Don’t stop. Please,” you whimper as you look at his face buried in your pussy. He licks into you, nose pressed against your clit and you can’t help but buck your hips. 

“Look how sweet you are, saying please every time. Such a good girl.” He’s inhaling you hungrily now, sloppy in his movements from how turned on he is but it’s not stopping you from feeling good. 

You just need friction. And he’s giving you that, but then he’s licking all the way up from your pussy over your clit, through your pubic hair and up to your belly button — just to tease you. He smirks up at you and you push his head back down; he happily obliges, but not before reaching out one of his big strong hands to settle on your breast, thumb hooking under the top of your bra to play with your nipple. 

“Taste so fucking good, baby. Can’t get enough,” he breathes as he begins to suck on your clit and starts moaning himself. 

It occurs to you then that the pollen in your arousal or in your sweat might be making him lose his mind too. With the way he’s almost painfully squeezing your thigh with one hand and your boob with the other, you’re sure.

Logan groans with a mouthful of you between his lips, your sensitive clit swollen against his tongue. He moans something into you that you can’t understand, but the vibration of his voice pushes you close to the edge.

“Fuck, gonna come,” you whimper loudly, your hips chasing his face.

You finally tip over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before.

But it’s over as fast as it started.

You push your hand between your legs to relieve the ache again but you know it won’t be enough. Logan stands up and wipes his mouth, glistening with your arousal. “Y’need me again?”

You shake your head as you squirm without his presence between your thighs. “Please fuck me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore, need you inside me.” As you say it you clench around nothing, the pulsing between your legs insatiable. You start fucking yourself with your fingers, but it’s not nearly enough – you need something bigger, much bigger, and you have a feeling he can provide that.

The pollen seems to take over for Logan as well, and he finally stops arguing. He pulls off his suit and you silently curse him for not doing that earlier. Seeing those muscles is providing more relief than your fingers inside you. You feel like you could come just from the sight of his big, hard cock alone. It’s exactly what you need.

You slip out of your bra that’s almost sticking to your skin with how hot you feel and Logan roughly rips your panties down your legs.

“You really want this?” He asks as he steps between your thighs, jerking off and rubbing the tip against your clit.

“Mmhm yesyes, need you so badly. Please Lo–” you both gasp when he fills your pussy at once. It’s a feeling that brings you close to orgasm immediately and makes you grab him to pull him closer. Logan momentarily slips out of you again to crawl onto the table, pull you across it and wrap your legs around his hips.

“So fucking hard for you,” he mumbles as he pushes back into your slick pussy. You’re both mesmerised by the sight of him starting to fuck into you, your pussy stretching around him with what is the best feeling you’ve ever had. It burns because he’s so big, but it’s a good type of pain.

You grab the hair at the back of his head for support, and he moans at your grip. It angles his face towards yours and you look into each other’s eyes for a split second before his mouth finds yours. You’re biting and licking at his lips and he growls back against you, holding your lower lip down to spit into your mouth, his animalistic nature taking over.

His hips rut against yours faster as your kiss gets more desperate. You lean your head back in pleasure, hitting the table, but you barely register the pain. Distracted by how good his big cock feels so deep in your pussy you don’t even notice his hand coming up under your head to cushion it.

“There you go,” he whispers, looking down at you. Your eyes meet and for a second you smile at his care. You tip your head right back down into his hand when he starts kissing down your neck, his free hand pushing up one of your tits to wrap his lips around the nipple. 

The way he runs his tongue over your nipple has you moaning and grabbing onto his hair once more. You need to feel the heat of his body so you wrap your arm around the back of his shoulders until he’s desperately fucking into you with your chests pressed together.

It should be too warm with the way your bodies are intertwined but Logan looks down to lick the sweat on your neck right up and sucks on the skin there right after. The added stimulation makes your hips buck up and Logan sneaks a hand back to your clit, messily rubbing until he has you coming again and you’re both moaning at how hard your pussy clenches around him.

You think for a second that Logan’s going to come with you but he manages to resist the temptation, biting into your shoulder instead. But that second in which it almost felt like he was coming was the calmest you’ve felt in hours at this point. You realise that maybe it’s him who needs to come for you to feel better. But you’re too horny to say any proper words to explain it to him.

Logan pushes himself up to look at your face but he doesn’t have to ask if you still need more. Your pupils are as wide as before.

“Pussy’s still so hungry for me, baby, hm? So fucking desperate,” he repositions your hips and starts fucking into you at a different angle, your wet pussy so loud against him. This time you feel his dick pushing against your g-spot and he has you gasping at the new sensation, pulling you by the hips to aid his thrusts.

“P-Please come inside me, Log– uh-Logan,” you manage to say.

Logan looks down at you and places a hand under your ass, squeezing you there, “Baby, I got stamina for the entire night. Not stopping til you’re satisfied.”

“Just do it, need you”, is all you can get out as he continues to rut his hips against yours.  

“Alright. I got you, baby, I got you,” he rasps, making sure to hit your g-spot over and over until you’re arching your back, biting into his bicep that’s propped next to your face, to deal with the amount of pleasure coursing through you.

A gasp turns into an orgasm and as soon as you clench around Logan he lets go too. “God, baby, so fucking tight for me. Such a good girl. Gonna come–”

You hold onto Logan tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck as he fucks into you, filling you with ropes and ropes of his cum as you keep clenching around his big cock. You can feel him so deeply in you that your most primal urges are finally starting to calm down and you feel the last waves of pleasure flow through you as he comes his final drops.

Logan drops onto his elbows that are positioned next to your head, and, instinctively, you take his face to kiss him. He kisses you back so intensely that you don’t even have to consider whether he still wanted to kiss you now that the sex is over.

“You okay?” He asks when you let go of his lips.

“Yeah,” you nod, noticing that the ache is finally, finally gone now that you’ve both come together, “thank you, Logan.”

“My pleasure,” he smirks and places a more innocent kiss on your mouth. You untangle yourselves from each other in slow movements, unsure what places you’re sweating from and need to clean up.

-

“Do you regret it?” Logan asks you a few minutes later, cleaned up and clothed, with his arm around your waist to support you – you can barely stand – as you go outside to look for Wade.

“No. But thanks for making sure so many times… Do you regret it?”

Logan’s smile tells you everything you need to know but he still tells you, “Not one bit.”

You smile but then become more serious. “Sorry that you had to experience that,” you mumble.

“What do you mean? You’re apologising for that?”

“Didn’t you feel the pain too? I thought the effect of the pollen might have somehow been contagious.”

He almost looks bashful when he looks down at you, “No, you just turn me on like fucking crazy.”

You smile down at the floor until you see a shadow. Wade comes around the corner of the diner. 

You draw your eyebrows together. “You’re telling me you actually left?”

“There’s no way you didn’t stay to watch us,” Logan adds.

“No, of course I stayed but I came ages ago. I was forced to be with my own thoughts while you kept going… and going.”

Logan rolls his eyes as Wade walks on, “What do you think, we–”

“And going…”

“Wade.” Logan warns, turning to you again, “How about we get this shit done with Wade and then go to your place and do this all over again?”

You giggle, “I like the sound of that.”

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog and comment if you enjoyed, I appreciate it a lot <333.｡.:*☆

[josephquinnswhore]

the consequence of us

dbf! joel miller x female reader

summary: joel broke off your affair two weeks ago, and now he realises he’s made a grave mistake.

word count: 3.4K

content warning: age gap, joel is old enough to be her dad, reader is mid twenties but unspecified. Reader has cellulite, mentions of power play, Joel’s a bit of a creep lmao, possessive, obsessive behaviour, use of baby girl & daddy dynamic. Collaring, male masterbation, p in v, raw fucking, creampie, sorta rough sex, public sex, submission. (no outbreak)

Everyone has felt the eerie sensation once in their lifetime, the paranoid feeling of being stared at; only this time, you know you're being stared at. Everytime you bend down to pick up a discarded beer can off your fathers perfectly mowed lawn, with each soft handed gesture on one of your fathers older friends arms, every laugh that seemed a little too real.

But it was your intention, for him to notice you. Perhaps to show him that you could indeed live without him, despite the fact that two weeks ago, on his front porch you'd been weeping, grasping onto him as you beg him not to break things off with you.

The shameful memory of snot and tears mingling as you sobbed on your knees for another chance, like you’d even done anything wrong. Clinging onto the small silver chain he'd gifted you - a subtle everyday collar, one he’d promised with the intention of making you his, properly.

That someday he would make you his girl officially.

This evening, it seemed as though that girl had never existed, maybe it was all a figment of his imagination, of how he saw you, and wanted you to be. A sweet little girl dependent on him.

Joel had managed with teeth scraping against his bottom lip that this was for the best, that a sweet girl like you didn't need him invading your personal life, or that this was wrong, for a man twenty years older than you–let alone the fact that he was your fathers best friend.

Now as he watches you standing next to your fathers friends, with a middle aged woman on his arm, he feels sick to his stomach. You should be doing this with him, the shameless flirting, touching and sneakily bending over for him when no one else seemed to notice. It's like now, you didn't care who saw. Any attention was yours for the taking, and that repulsed joel.

The sweet girl he knew wasn't some attention starved daddies girl dying to fuck every single one of his colleagues and friends, Joel was special, had been.

What was this then, revenge? An attempt to outshine the woman he had on his arm that was closer to sixty than he was. No doubt, his date–Sue. She was beautiful, but she was too outgoing, too loud, too chatty. She drank too many glasses of wine and clung onto joel like he was some kind of prized show dog. Much like that mangy purse mutt she had at her house. Joel didn't belong with Sue, in her middle class house and aggressive teacup chihuahua.

The only place he had ever felt himself belong was with you, a subservient, submissive and sweet girl, did anything Joel had ever asked, found pleasure in being submissive. Maybe he did ruin you, turned you into some kind of modern day sexually aware woman that knew that she was too good for him anymore.

Once again, you're bending over to reach into the large cooler in your fathers shed not bothering to pull down your dress, Joel's eyes were drawn to the sight like a hound. He felt himself growing stiff at the sight of your asscheeks barely covered by the tight dress, each curve, hill and cellulite dimple could be seen leaving nothing to the imagination besides one thing.

What colour panties were you wearing?

“Excuse me a moment, won't you?” He utters to sue under his breath, prying her clinging arm off of his own and approaching you across the lawn, swerving between guests. Before he could reach you, you've left the shed, three cans of drink in hand as you hand them out to your father and two of his friends.

Joel scowls, snatching a cold can out of the cooler and watching you shamelessly across the front yard. He couldn't stop staring at you, your legs, the way your hips swing with every step. It was a fucking nightmare knowing that he had done this, created this confident vixen hell bent on torturing him. He couldn't grab at you, swiftly text you to steal you away for a few minutes for a quickie in the bathroom.

He had ended this, told you it was for good, for real this time.

You know he hasn't been able to take his eyes off of you, and finding your stomach, you approach his date later on in the evening after she's had a few drinks and is standing by her lonesome. “Hi, we haven't met, have we? You're Susan?”

The older woman greets you with a look of complete indifference, a non subtle judging stare in her olden glassy eyes as she gives you a look up and down. “Sue, actually, and you are?”

You reply with your name, giving her a sickly sweet and fake smile, standing tall and rolling your shoulders backwards, ready to cause some strife for the old hag. “So.. you're Joel’s.. what exactly..?”

The disbelief in your tone had the woman feeling insulted, and the stiff look of her face gave that away. She seemed incredibly insecure, you noticed the way she had clung onto Joel since they got here. “We’ve been talking for a while, I’ve heard he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend soon.”

A small snort escapes your nose, and before the woman could drill into you about your reaction..

“Oh you know.. He's just not that good with relationships you know? Totally a ladies man, he likes ‘em young–or younger than you, anyway. So don't hope too much that Joel even likes you at all..anyway, it was so lovely meeting you.”

You hear the woman huff loudly as you abruptly turn and walk away, knowing that you caused an absolute shit fire for Joel to deal with tonight, but you didn't expect Sue to start screaming at Joel the moment you walked away from her.

He sends a glare to you, across the yard, his eyes dark and furious. You were the cause of this, he knew it. As Sue screams at him, he drags her away, down the street.

It's a while before Joel returns, but he comes back alone, explaining to your father what happened. “She's having a moment, probably menopause or something.”

That was hilarious to you, and Joel catches you laughing, beelining straight to you. He grabs your hand, which you shake off, and he doesn't attempt to make another effort to grab you.

“The hell was that? Are you gonna start causing issues for me now?”

With a faux innocent tilt of your head you shrug your shoulders. “I'm sorry, I was just being honest with her, is honesty a problem now, Mr Miller?”

He shouldn't have gotten hard over such a minor thing, being called Mr Miller instead of Joel, that doe-ish look in your eyes as you look up at him, he cant help the stiffness in his jeans return again. Of course you notice the tension, the way he becomes uncomfortable, but you don't dignify him by looking at the thick bulge in his pants, not bothering to show any interest at all.

That.. is what bothers Joel the most. Your disinterest.

His eyes are glued to your every step as you walk away, he subtly palms himself through his jeans and makes his way inside of the house with the intent to wash his face and try to calm down the raging hardness of his cock, but when he smells your perfume in the bathroom.. He loses any sense of control he thought he had.

It was the same perfume you'd spritzed onto your skin before sneaking out to see him all those times, the floral scent lingering on your warm velvety neck. He locks the bathroom door behind him, looking at himself in the mirror. “Get a grip, Miller. She's done with you, you're done with her.”

He quickly contradicts his hollow whisper as he picks up a pair of used black panties on the top of the laundry basket, ones he knew were yours, the soft lace g-string, with a silver love heart on the front, covered in small diamonds, ones he had pulled to the side more times to fuck your hole than he could remember.

It's a desperate and shameful act, he knows, but doesn’t care. He desperately unzips his jeans and pulls out his thick, weeping cock from his jeans, stroking desperately. The other hand holds your panties and he looks at himself as he brings the lace material to his nose and smells it. They're used, and he pulls his cock faster as he shoves the material further into his face, a wet patch on your panties is all he can feel.

The smell of you has him groaning into the lace, desperately fisting his cock faster than he ever had. His knees buckle and he whimpers quietly as he starts sucking on the delicious soaking crotch of your panties as he doubles over the sink and spills a thick load, shooting across the basin.

Joel's sweating, taking one last inhale of your panties, before tossing them back into the laundry hamper, stuffing his softening cock into his jeans before turning on the tap to wash away any evidence of the violating act. He cups his hands under the running water and splashes some onto his face.

As he swings the bathroom door open, you're standing there with a shit eating grin. “All good in there?”

“Fine,” he utters, wondering if you knew, he couldn't meet your gaze after what he’d just done.

Fuck, you were evil for making him like this.

By midnight, everyone had gone home, stumbled off down the cul de sac to their houses, but you don't see Joel leave, which is strange. With your father inside of the house, and the lights shut off, you sneak out of the yard with your phone in hand, texting your friend with the intention of going to her house to drink, walking down the pathway down the street to where your car is parked.

Oblivious, you reach your car and are shocked to see Joel, leaning against the driver's side door. “Where do you think you’re going?” The growl sends a shiver up your spine, a feeling you miss.

“Out,” Joel towers over you as he stands upright, no longer leaning against your car.

“Like hell you are.” There's an edge of possessiveness to his tone, and the way he stands over you. “You need to explain yourself, all that shit you've been doing tonight.”

“I don't have to explain shit–” he cuts you off, his hand shoots out quickly to grab onto your hand. But you react without thinking and slap him.

His eyes snap shut from the force of your hand on his cheek, your hand now stinging from the contact. When he opens his eyes, his gaze is darker than before. He wraps his arms around your waist, grabbing a hold of you as he shoves you roughly against the side of your car door, you wince as your back makes contact with the cold metal. He stands flush against you, whispering in your ear as he cranes his neck downward.

“Careful. You shouldn't start something’ you can't finish baby girl.”

“I’m not your baby girl.”

God-if only you knew how much that struck a nerve within him. “Don't start that.” His voice is harsh, fingers digging tighter into the soft flesh of your chin.

“You're nothing to me.” You insist.

He bit back, his temper flailing. “Yeah? You really tryin’ to convince me that I ain't anythin’ to you, baby girl? That you don't care no more?” His thumb grips your chin harshly, jolting your neck up to look into his eyes.

There's a challenging look in your eyes, defiance, no sign of the devotion or submission he's so used to with you, he really has ruined you.

“Move Joel.”

He knew if he could just manage to get a peep out of you, a small whine or a moan out of you, that he could draw you back into him. His hand trails downward to your nipples, pinching softly, he knew it was such a sensitive area for you, which usually had your back arching.

You should have reacted, whimpered and squirmed or let out a small whine from those pretty lips that he was so used to hearing when he touched you like this. But you gave him nothing, no reaction at all, how did he let this happen? “Why the hell are you bein’ like this? Why are you fightin’’ me so hard?”

“Because I realised something, Joel.” Stepping forward, you bring your hand down to his belt, grabbing onto the buckle.

“And what is it that you think you have figured out?”

“It’s you who needs me.”

He couldn't even deny it, how his stomach felt sick at the thought of you knowing. That somehow you knew that this went beyond physical for him too. When he's silent, you roughly shove him away by the buckle of his belt. Stumbling a few feet back, he hated how weak he felt right now.

“You’re old, Joel. You love how it feels to have someone so much younger to pine over you, that's why things won't last with that old cunt, sue. Part of you needs me, joel, that why you were so fucking insistent on pushing me away.”

He freezes at your observation, words that are sharp, and true. Gritting his teeth, with his chest rising and falling, all he could do was breathe heavily.

“But me? I have options, time too. To find someone who would be proud to show me off. But you won't, you’re scared Joel, and it's because you're insecure.”

He feared this, thinking about you with men your own age, how they threw themselves at you, fit and capable of taking you out and giving you everything you ever wanted. Joel was selfish for wanting you all to himself, for craving you, obsessing and unable to let you move on. Because as long as even a part of you still wanted him, he was worth something. The grey hairs didn't matter, nor did his softening belly or the developing ache in his worn knees.

He hated how much he needed you.

You grip his chin, the salt and pepper scruff tickles your palm. Forcing him to look at you. “Say it Joel.”

His entire body tenses as you try to force the admission out of him, try to cut him open and deflower his tightly wound emotions. “Stop it.” He growls weakly, voice strained.

“Admit it!” You shout at him.

Every part of him begged for him to let go of this stubborn defiance and tell you how he felt, that he felt afraid, even though all he'd known was keeping you at arm's length. “Stop!”

With another harsh shove, you growl. “Just admit it!”

“Admit what? That I'm insecure, that I’m afraid of losing you? That every moment all I can think about is you, how much I fucking love you? What are you tryin�� to get out of me, huh?”

As his chest heaves, he can't help spilling out how he felt now, you broke the dam. “I worry that you'll find some other man to love you, touch you. That you'll come to your senses and realise you need someone your own age who is better able to take care of you.”

“So you broke my heart? That's how you face those fears?”

“The hell was I supposed to do?” With a defensive snap, he hated the weakness he felt now that you’d expelled the truth.

When you don't have an answer Joel is becoming more desperate for you to feel something for him, to let him know that there's still some space in your heart for him after all hed done.”Baby girl..” he whimpers, voice cracking with emotion..

“Don’t,” you protest weakly.

Joel realises that you don’t need him like this, all self doubting, you need your daddy.

He cages your body between his own and the car. “Too damn bad, because I’m touchin you, you ain’t rejectin’ me, you ain't gonna ignore me.” He leans his head down to your level. “And you sure as shit aint ever fucking leavin’ me.”

As he slams his hips against yours, finally a pathetically small whimper leaves your lips.

There it was, you were giving into him, that pretty sound he hadn't heard from you in weeks. “There's my pretty girl,” he whispers against the soft flesh of your neck.

“Don't fight me baby girl..” his lips on your neck have your back arching away from the car, leaning flush against Joel’s chest, but he doesn't want you to have any semblance of control. Roughly, he spins you around and shoves your body against the car, his chest flush against your back.

His hands unzip his jeans, pulling out his thick cock for a second time this evening, lifting your dress up to find you weren't wearing any panties at all, his eyes barely able to process the sight of your bare sopping cunt under the haphazard dim street light. “You knew what you were doin’ to me baby, wearing this tight dress and no panties.”

The palm of his hand smacks your wet lips, using the slick to coat his cock as he pumps it a few times.

His cock is thicker than you remember and you whine at the protrusion, forcing his cock inside of you as he forces you against the side of your car. A yelp leaves your lips and he quickly covers your mouth with his large hand. “Shh baby girl.. Daddy is gonna take you in the middle of the street, as a punishment for your actions. Don't want nobody to hear, do we?”

Frantically, you shake your head no, and he shakily praises you. “That's a good girl.”

Without any warning at all, he slams his cock into you, pushing your face into the car as he rams into you ferociously, fucking into you so deep that your eyesight starts to blur. “Think you can leave me? No body ain’t ever gonna fuck you like I do, baby girl.”

You squeal into his hand as he fucks you harder than he ever had, proving to you and himself that he was worthy of you. As your legs begin to tremble, Joel brings his other hand to pinch your nipple, and the orgasm crashes over you in waves, the feeling is intense and your body is limp between Joel and the car. Tears leave your eyes as your cunt clenches around Joel.

Joel's muttering under his breath. “That's it baby.. Make daddy feel so good. I'll kill anyone if they ever try to take you away.”

His thick cock pushes so deep inside of you for a final time as the tip twitches and he cums inside of you. Growling into your ear as his forehead rests on your shoulder.

Hesitant to pull out, he thrusts a few more times into you, making sure most of his cum stays inside you.

Pulling your dress down, he stuffs his cock back into his jeans and turns you around, wiping the steady tears off your cheeks. “Now go on back inside, alright? We’re going on a date tomorrow, a real one. Take you to a fancy place where we’ll sit down an’ eat. Just us. Daddy ain’t gonna leave you again, so that means you start wearin’ your collar again.”

Numbly, you nod, unable to form coherent words after the encounter. Pleased, he kisses your forehead, then gives your ass a light pat to send you on your way back inside your house. He stalks you down the street, making sure you get home safely, before retreating into his own house.

He watches you from his bedroom window as you turn on the dim lamp, and put on your silver collar just as he’d asked. He had his baby back, hell would freeze over before anything came between you, if your father found out.. Joel would handle him when it came to that.

No matter what that entails.

[esouliie]

DON’T YOU LOVE THE DEVIL?

– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

– synopsis | wanda was everything you wanted in a mom. she was kind and loving, even to those who weren’t her own children. she, however, loved you in a very different way…

– warnings | porn with plot, non con that turns kinda dub con, smut, mommy kink, spanking, thigh riding, overstimulation, aftercare, wanda is a perv lmao (18+)

[word count: 3.4k]

Summer was always your favourite time. It meant avid beach trips, ice cream dates and - most importantly - bestie sleepovers. You enjoyed staying at Natasha's house, which was much larger than yours. Wanda, her mother, was always very kind to you, even more so than your own. Because of this, throughout high school, you found yourself always at the Maximoff’s. When you were going through a difficult time, you would always turn to her for support; she was a solid shoulder to cry on as her hushed whispers soothed you.

Much like your house, Natasha’s dad was never in the picture. And because Wanda never seemed to date, it was always just them two and sometimes you. Their house was your safe haven and Wanda was your beckoning angel. Now in your last year of college, you still find yourself coming to the older woman…

Countless nights, you wished she was your mom instead.

Reaching into your pocket, you fumble around for the front key, feeling its familiar shape between your fingertips.

This was your usual routine – Natasha would text when she was nearly home from work, and you’d arrive shortly after, letting yourself in with the spare key she had given you months ago.

The door swings open with a soft creak, revealing the warmth of the home beyond. The living room is empty, just the faint hum of the TV can be heard.

As you step into the kitchen, the warm aroma of burnt vanilla envelops you. Wanda stands against the island, dressed in a large, red sweater and black skirt, with one hand scrolling through her phone as the other holds a glass of red wine. She looked radiant as ever. A grown woman confident in her own skin and her ability.

“Hey, Wanda.”

She places her phone down and greets you warmly. “Hey there, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’m good.” You take a seat next to her and she busies herself with pouring you a glass of red. You watch her, marvelling at how effortlessly she moves around the kitchen, her movements always graceful and fluid.

"So," Wanda begins, setting the glass in front of you, "another bestie sleepover?"

“Yep! Natasha’s going to be busy with Bucky next week so we’re spending as much time together.”

Wanda scoffs at the mention of her daughter’s partner, “Yeah, she said something about going to his parent’s lake house for the week.”

You hum, reaching for a sip of the wine, awkward in the revelation of Wanda’s distaste for her daughter’s boyfriend. I mean, it’s not like you like him either. You hate him actually. He was always so weird about your friendship with the redhead, always starting arguments around how much you guys hang out together and how he thinks you have a crush on her.

Plus, Natasha was way out of his league and he sometimes treated her like shit. It was only last week when Natasha was complaining about how they had an argument during their date and Bucky left her to find her own way home…

“I really don’t know what she sees in him.”

You sigh, setting the glass back down. “Me neither. He’s an asshole.”

Lost in thought, you fail to notice Wanda’s approach until an arm laid upon your shoulder, and a hand twirled around your curls.

“You know, I always thought Natasha would end up with you.”

Shocked by her confession, you try to respond - to deny that nothing would ever happened - but your mouth is unable to move as her nails scratch against your neck.

Wanda settles down in the stool beside you, hand retreating to stroke down your arm.

"I just don't understand. He’s boring and doesn’t deserve Tasha, whereas, you’re… you’re so much better than him.” She admits softly, her gaze fixed on you.

"You’re so much more than him.”

You shrug, expelling a shaky breath as you watch her manicured nail draw patterns against your exposed skin.

Silence envelopes you both, Wanda deep in thought and you pretend to act calm about the fact that Wanda’s touch has trailed down to your hands, resting in your lap.

“You know if I were her…” Her breath flutters against your ear, “I wouldn’t even think about anyone else… when I have you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her admission.

"I..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to articulate the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling within you.

It felt so wrong, and yet you didn’t want her to stop.

To keep stroking your hand,

To keep whispering in your ear.

To keep close to you.

“I think… I want to kiss you.” Wanda murmurs, her thumb gently running over your lips.

But before you could say anything, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss.

“So pretty.” She whispers, lips closing in once again, but the sudden closing of a door upstairs startles you both as you pull away. Eyes wide in fear that Natasha could’ve seen you kissing her mom.

Wanda leaves her seat, an unreadable expression on her face, and disappears into the living room, Natasha’s thundering footsteps break you from looking at her as she comes downstairs. Her hair is wet, her bangs clinging to her forehead. She must’ve been in the shower.

“You made it!” Natasha exclaims before briefly hugging you and dragging you with her upstairs, “Come on. Let’s watch a movie.”

…

A few hours later, and a few movies down, you end up back in the kitchen, in search of a drink. You spot Wanda in the living room watching a show, her presence both comforting and unnerving. No longer elegantly dressed, she lounges in a maroon satin night gown. The thin fabric barely covers her long legs as it glows complimentarily against her pale skin.

Summoning as much courage, you take a seat on the other end of the sofa. The drink long forgotten. She recognises your presence but you both don’t say anything, engrossed in some reality show on TV. This distraction works for a while but then, like a shadow in the morning sun, the memory of the kiss surfaces. Heat blossoms against your cheeks but you feel it weighing on your mind, a heavy burden demanding acknowledgement.

“Wanda,” your voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, ‘I think we should talk about earlier.”

With a delayed hum, she turns towards you, waiting patiently for you to continue. Your words stumble out clumsily, faltering as you try to convey the complexity of your emotions. You want to explain that the kiss was wrong, that she was your best friend’s mom and that nothing like that could happen again, but you don’t want to hurt her feelings in the process.

Her expression was unreadable, you could almost hear the pounding of your own heart, the uncertainty hanging thick in the air between you. And then, finally, she speaks.

“I’m sorry, darling. I thought- it was silly and inappropriate of me.” She reaches over to briefly squeeze your hand.

“Let’s forget it happened.”

You exhale with relief, “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Quick to change the conversation and clear the awkward tension, Wanda asks, “How come you’re down here anyways? Where’s Natasha?”

“Oh she fell asleep.” You giggle at the unattractive image of your best friend, snoring somewhat loudly and taking up your side of the bed.

“Besides, I’m not really tired, so I thought I’d come down for a drink.”

Wanda hums, a smile on her face at the sight of you giggling so cutely.

But you notice her hands run over bare arms, soothing the goosebumps and the slight shiver, “Are you cold?”

She looks at you for a moment, eyes taking in your concerned features before she nods.

“I’ll get you a blanket.” You move to stand but a grip on your wrist halts you.

“Don’t bother. Just sit here.”

She leans back against the pillows, legs parting slightly. Your brows furrow in confusion.

She tugs your wrist softly, “Don’t think, just come here.”

She pulls you to sit between her thighs, flush against her front as she winds her arms around you. It wasn’t uncommon being hugged by the older woman but it’s never been like this. But despite earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. The room even felt cosier now all that tension was gone. So, you lean back into her embrace, feeling her steady heartbeat against your back and her warm thighs brush against yours.

“Hm, much better. You’ve always run hot.” Her face snuggles into your curls and you giggle.

Her large hands dip, holding softly onto your hips, pulling you even closer with a silent groan, before descending to your thighs. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine, but you maintain composure, thinking nothing of the surely innocent touch as you focus on the TV screen in front of you.

Her touch is gentle, sending a warm current through your body with each stroke. You feel your legs widen, following in the direction of her strokes, not wanting the caress to stop. The show on the TV fades into the background as your attention becomes solely fixated on her.

She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “Pretty girl... feels good, doesn’t it?”

You nod, allowing yourself to melt further into her embrace, your head resting against her shoulder instead of watching her hands.

Wanda tuts, “No, baby, head up.”

A single hand moves from your thigh to hold the back of your head, forcing you to look down at your entwined legs. Another hand wanders higher than expected, tracing small circles into your inner thigh, jarring you out of your trance as you go to wiggle free from her grip. “Wanda… that’s-”

Your speech is cut off as fingers slip under your shorts, and you gasp, squirming with renewed vigour. But her hold refuses even the feeblest motions as she wraps an arm around your waist.

“Wanda… please!”

“Don’t think, baby.” She warns again, fingers gliding further into your shorts. “Just let yourself feel good.”

You fight harder, hips snapping away from her touch as hands pry at her wrist. “Get off me!”

“No, you’re not getting up.” You squirm again, and without warning, she digs her nails harshly into your soft skin. “I said, you’re not getting up.”

You whimper in pain and stop your movement. Instantly, her nails pull back from your skin, leaving red angry crescent marks. Those fingertips gently caress the marks to soothe them before moving up under your shirt.

“Good girl.” Those words bring an odd warmth to your body and suddenly you think that letting Wanda have her way with you couldn’t be as bad as you initially thought…

But light fingers caressing up and down your stomach, inching closer to your breasts reminded you of the position you’re in.

This was your best friend’s mom.

Natasha didn’t deserve this.

“Wanda, we can’t… it’s not right. What about Nat-?”

“It’s fine, princess.” She interrupts, placing a few chaste kisses against your neck. “She won’t find out.”

Suddenly, those hands slide up over your bare breasts and gently squeeze. You take in a deep breath and exhale slowly with a soft whimper. Pleased with the response, she begins to knead them kindly alternating between light and firm pressure.

“You like that, baby?” Wanda coos then nibbles on the side of your ear, descending your neck carefully to not leave bites and marks in place.

Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts deeper into her adept grasp, and your defiance fades ever so quickly with each breathy moan.

“Hm, so needy, so responsive…” thumbs swipes over your perked nipples, “and all I’m doing is playing with your tits, princess.”

Your increased whines answer in reply and Wanda doesn’t bother wasting time anymore. Lifting a hand from its spot under your top, she glides down under your shorts. Her lithe fingers ghost over the soaked underwear, travelling low enough to feel the wetness seep from your slit, and she moans lowly at the sensation. “You’re so wet… fuck, is this all for me?”

Battling between not wanting this and giving in to her, you also fight the urge to thrust your hips upwards, to search for some needed friction, to end the maddening ache between your thighs.

The older woman’s light touches feel like heaven and hell as nimble fingers slide up and down the fabric that clung to you, purposely missing where you needed her most.

“That’s it, baby. Relax… let go for me.”

A strange fuzziness washes over you completely as you relax - moral sobriety long forgotten - as your legs spread apart limply for Wanda to grope in every direction.

 “M’kay.” You reply, barely hearing yourself, lost in the moment.

Wanda sighs contently, forever pleased she’s put you in this headspace with such little fight.

Focusing back on your neck, she licks along the flushed skin, and as she bites against your pulse a little harder, the slight pain has you quivering.

You melt into the warm heat below you, head resting against a firm shoulder, as you let out a moan laced with pleasure and slight frustration. Hips bucking slightly back into Wanda’s hoping she’d take the hint and get on with it.

The quicker you gave her what she wanted, the quicker it would be done.

Finally, her index finger slides higher, the tip of her nail just brushing against your clit slightly. Your thighs shake at the motion, wanting to clamp shut around her but never doing so in fear she would stop. A cry falls from your mouth in surprise as her finger finally reaches, circling your swollen nerve endings in a slow yet firm motion.

Your words stumble out clumsily, unable to string a full sentence together as Wanda practically purrs against your ear.

“Oh, you’re doing so well, baby.” She coos, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, “So well for me… come here.”

Tipping your neck up, she dips forward, pressing her hot lips against your own. A choked note of dismay comes from you as Wanda forces your mouth open and shoves her tongue inside. The older woman dominates the clashing of tongues, making sure that you know your place.

You fail to notice Wanda pull your shorts and panties down from your hips until her fingers press against you harder, and you can’t help but grind against it with such aching desperation. She marvels over how pathetic you look… one minute begging for her to stop and now humping against her like a bitch in heat, swallowing her tongue down your throat.

Such a depraved mental image and yet it only feeds into her desire for you.

To claim you as hers, no matter if you wanted it or not.

Because she didn’t care.

She could feel herself getting wetter, as she met your grinding with her own thrusts, your ass pressing flush against her soaked panties.

The kiss eventually comes to an end, a few hungry strands of saliva briefly clinging to your lips, linking you together. Wanda gazes lovingly at the sight of you, a growing smile on her lips, as you writhe in building pleasure.

“Can you look at me, princess?”

Wanda asks in a sultry tone and you struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the light as her blurry face comes into focus. Her pupils are blown out, partly consuming those emerald irises, her cheeks painted a flushed pink, and her lips part as she pants freely.

She looks so beautiful.

Her green eyes shine clouded over in a different colour than Natasha’s…

Natasha.

Dread seeps into your bones, your body ripped from its relaxed trance as you recall your best friend and how she’s sleeping upstairs as you’re fucked by her mom.

You don’t want to think about how upset she would be to find you like this.

“Baby…” She reels your mind back to focus on her, noticing you’re beginning to spiral. “You ready to come for me?”

Her fingers speed up perfectly but you shook your head in defiance, your mind no longer free to just enjoy Wanda’s touch.

“No,” she coos, “you don’t want to come for me, baby? Don’t want to come for Mommy?”

A whiny no leaves your lips, not giving in to the beautiful temptress behind you.

Annoyed, Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly upset that you wouldn’t just give in to her and that you’re not nestled in that special little headspace anymore.

Without warning, she twists your thigh over the other, ass on show as she lashes out with a sharp slap. You cry out at the unexpected blow, your hands grabbing tightly onto whatever part of the woman you can reach. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push her away or pull her close.

“I thought we were done with that, baby.” She unleashes a few more spanks, “Thought you were going to be my good girl, hm?”

You gasp for air at the same time Wanda gropes your marked flesh, pulling your cheeks apart as she rubs in soothing circles. The breath turns into a choked moan as Wanda spanks you one more time, before returning you to your original position, back to pressing firm circles against your clit.

Once again, you fight her touch. Hips wiggling in each direction until ankles wrap around your legs, locking you in place.

Tight circles turn to quick taps, the once pleasing hand now bringing pain upon your pussy in rapid succession, not allowing you to writhe in her generosity for too long before returning to cruelty.

A beautiful blend that muddled all of your defying thoughts until there was nothing left.

Your body betrayed your mind. Your legs fell completely limp, as you lay at the mercy of the older woman. Taking whatever she deemed necessary to give.

Finally, she had you.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re going to cum all over my fingers for me.” She concludes with a kiss on your cheek.

And not caring if you cry loud enough to wake up the rest of the house, her fingers speed up for the last time, sending you headfirst over the edge.

…

After what felt like hours, Wanda was done with you. You had moved into her bedroom, deciding the sofa was not adequate to continue. Now her head rests against your stomach after she had spread you open to lap up your next orgasm.

Your body spasms randomly, wave after wave of aftershock rolling over you. A warm hand cups your core firmly, and you buck away from the sensitivity, not wanting her touch anymore. But her fingers remain, gliding slowly up and down your slit, marvelling at your swollen skin, before pushing against your entrance.

You’re overwhelmed. What little fight you have left mentally can’t keep up with the fatigue of your exhausted body. If she wanted to, she could have her way with you. Again and again. Fresh tears fall from your eyes as you sob inconsolably into hands covering your face.

Wanda leaves you be, moving up your body to grab onto your wrists.

“Hey, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay…” she coos, fingertips wiping away your tears, “Mommy went too hard on you, didn’t she?”

You struggle to find the words, and Wanda shushes you, stopping you from thinking too much in such a delicate headspace.

You feel movement, feel Wanda get off you, and your eyes snap open in a slight panic but she sits beside you and swiftly draws you onto her lap.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” She says gently, reeling you in with false empathy. She was glad she pushed you too hard you broke.

“Mommy couldn’t help herself.”

You scoot closer, close enough to bury your head into her neck as fingers trail up and down your back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. Can you forgive me?”

Her soothing words are music to your ears as you whimper softly against the woman, not willing to talk or move away. You just want her to hold you.

“Say it, princess. Say you forgive me.”

She guides you out of her neck to look at her.

“I forgive you.” You choke out, upset you’re no longer buried in her chest, as your hands run back to cover your eyes. Too ashamed to even look at her.

“Sweet girl, come here.” Wanda doesn’t wait, moving your hands to wrap around her neck as she kisses you hungrily, swallowing any little disapprovals as you push languidly against her chest, trying to force her mouth off of you.

It’s fine, it’s fine,” she ushers against your swollen lips, “I just want to make you feel better.”

You whine in disapproval but your arms wrap tighter around her.

“You love me, don’t you?” She whispers against your cheek, but doesn’t let you reply, as you choke on her tongue, stroking deep against yours.

“Say you love me, baby.” She moves to kiss your forehead, before moving down against your collarbone.

Hands groping your ass as she rocks you steady against her thigh.

“I love you,” a few tears burn down your throat as you hiccup,” I love you, I love you.”

Wanda mumbles her gratitude into your skin, fresh marks blooming against your chest as she fucks you against her.

“Keep saying you love me, baby.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” flies from your mouth in quick succession, your mind once again empty as the tell tale signs of another orgasm come into view.

“I love you too, princess.” She returns to your lips, tongue prodding past them as she coaxes your tongue into her mouth.

“Come on. Be good for me.”

It slams into you, body tense as you fall over the edge, pressing your face deep into her neck. She shushes you, not letting go of your body until the convulsions stop, and even then, you’re curled into her chest. Unwilling to part from her.

She allows you to sob freely, your body shaking uncontrollably as hands stroke all over until you calm down. Almost asleep in her arms.

A hand runs through your damp hair, “That’s it, baby. We’re done.”

“No more.” You mumble out, eyes already shut as exhaustion washes over.

“No more, baby. Go to sleep.” Wanda shifts you down her body, your face now against her chest, as she covers you both with her duvet.

Unable to resist any longer, you drift off in Wanda’s warm embrace.

[ceeproductions]

Beat the Heat Collection

I know it's already Fall lmao. Originally planned for a June release, here is The Beat the Heat Collection consisting of 21 Summer (yet still versatile) inspired pieces. It's Summer somewhere!

General Info: 

• 4 Hairs • 4 Tops • 5 Bottoms  • 2 Shoes • 4 Accessories • All are Base Game Compatible 

• Twitter | Youtube | Instagram | Twitch | TikTok

Cali Waves

My first attempt at strands! 2 Versions (Strands and No Strands) • 24 Swatches  • T-E; Masc Frame • NOT hat compatible  • All maps, Lods

7.9k | 3.4k poly

Credit: Gradients by @simandy, @aharris00britney, @qwertysims, @marsosims 

Chance Braids

Been wanting to make these for a while and this is the result • 24 Swatches  • T-E; Masc Frame • Hat compatible  • Spec and Normal map, Lods • Bead Accessories found in Left Lip Ring - 25 Swatches

13.6k poly | Beads are 3.5k poly

Credit: Gradients by @simandy, @aharris00britney, @qwertysims, @marsosims and @qicc for the braid mesh

Scarf Hair

• 24 Swatches  • T-E; Masc Frame • NOT hat compatible  • Spec and Normal maps; Lods • Scarf Overlay found in Left Index Finger - 45 Swatches

2.8k poly

Credit: Gradients by @simandy, @aharris00britney, @qwertysims, @marsosims

Tank Top

a Summer staple!

• 8 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs

3k Poly

Credit: @synthsims Ribbed Bod-E Tank

Heavyweight Tee

More tees yipee! 3 versions- Loose, Tucked and Sleeveless

• 15 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs

3.6k | 3.5k | 3.5k Poly

Low Rise Fringe Hem Shorts

These shorts put me through the ringer but love the way they turned out!

• 14 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs

1.1k Poly

Credit: @liliilisims Half pants | @ridgeport classic jeans | @xldkx for always being willing to help out. without them, this would not be possible

7' Denim Shorts

more bottoms with exposed boxers!

• 16 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs

1k Poly

Mid-Rise Pleated Trousers

2 versions cause we love options here- Baggy and Fitted

• 11 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs

1.3k | 1.7k Poly

Credit: @captainstreasure Drake trousers

Parachute Pants

My attempt at some parachute pants and I think they came out ok!

• 17 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps ; LODs

2.6k Poly

Credit: @liliilisims Keely Skirt

Crew Socks

a conversion and slight edit

• 70 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • Spec and Normal maps ; LODs

448 Poly

Credit: @liliilisims Gillian Socks

Birkenstock Arizona EVA

I love creating items I own in real life. 2 versions- Socks and No socks

• 25 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • Spec and Normal maps; LODs • Sock Overlay Found in Socks - 25 Swatches

13.8k | 9.9k Poly

Credit: @dallasgirl79 Birkenstocks | @magic-bot Feet V7 and Socks

Scarf Accessory

a hat version of the scarf to be used on other hairs. Will most likely be clipping depending on the hair, meant to be paired with short cuts

• 45 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • All maps; LODs • Found in Hats

1.1k Poly

Fitted with Headphones

ya'll. My all-time favorite piece. Yes, the hat and headphones come together and function as a hat so you can wear it with any hair that has hat chops!!!

• 15 Swatches • Masc Frame ; T-E • Spec and Normal maps; LODs

2.5k Poly

Credit: @joliebean Joliepods

As always, let me know if you run into any issues and I'll do my best to fix it

Download: Patreon (Free!) | ALT (Google Drive) | SFS

[sunrizef1]

Speechless

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Soulmate!Sargeant!Reader

Warnings: None, one curse word, not edited yay

Authors Note: Lmao the poll didn’t ask for this one but it was almost done so… here you go 😭

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Everyone’s born with a certain number of words. What happens when Charles runs out during a race and only his soulmate can get them back.

Everyone was born with a certain number of words. Usually, you got enough words to last you well into your adulthood, although the more talkative children ran out some time in high school. When you ran out of words, your voice completely disappeared, as well as your soulmates. You couldn’t say anything no matter how hard you tried. The only way to get your words back was to find your soulmate. When you do finally meet them, as soon as you touch, you both have an infinite amount of words.

The only problem with this system was the fact that there wasn’t some kind of constant counter in your vision that you could see at all times. No, instead, there was a small tattoo somewhere on your body that ticked down as you spoke. People often forgot to check and see how many words they have left, running out and taking both their own and their soulmates voices away. The wonderfully mean part about the tattoos, though, was that they moved into a perfectly visible spot when they ran out, moving to match where your soulmate had theirs.

Charles’ tattoo was behind his ear. He often got caught up and forgot to check, considering he had to have someone else help him see it. With the week he’d been having with Ferrari, he hadn’t even thought about it in days. At the start of the week, he would’ve sworn he had thousands of words left.

He really might’ve, but with the amount of meetings and interviews he’d suffered through in the lead up to Sunday, his words dwindled quickly.

Not that he knew, his hair was just long enough to cover the tattoo for anyone passing by and he was too busy to even consider it.

Charles was starting from pole. A miracle considering how shit the car had been performing. He slid the helmet on as he entered the car, effectively covering his tattoo.

He was then out on the track, lining up and slamming his foot down on the accelerator as the lights flicked green.

It was smooth enough for a while, though Max was on his tail from the very beginning, Charles having to ask for constant updates about the Red Bull.

“Ten laps left” his engineers voice crackles over the radio as Charles passes the starting line, his car roaring down the straight.

“Thank you,” Charles replies, glancing in his mirror to see Max about a second behind him still.

“How do the tires feel?” His engineer asks. Charles opens his mouth to reply but no words come out, “Charles?”

Charles try’s to speak again but all he gets is silence, his words dying in his throat. His engineer, though, assumes there’s issues with the radio, informing Fred Vassuer with a grave face.

Charles tries his best to continue the race without being able to speak. His engineer continues to talk to him, continuing to not get a response. Everytime his engineer asks him to reply, Charles gets more and more frustrated, the lack of communication pissing him off to no end.

Somewhere in the last few laps of the race, Max passes him, taking advantage of the frazzled Ferrari. Groans echo throughout the garage, the near perfect race now being ruined in the dying moments.

As Charles finishes his final lap, pulling his car into the second place spot, he can’t wipe the frown off his face. Even as he steps out of the car to the cheers of Ferrari fans above him, he practically throws the steering wheel down, knowing more than anyone that he should’ve won that race.

He slides his helmet off, wincing as Max pats him on the back. Charles sets the helmet down, not eager to talk to his disappointed team. He moves his sleeves up frantically, searching for the tattoo that would explain his lack of words. If it was still behind his ear, he’d know that his soulmate was the one to run out of words and he’d have a lot of choice words for them when he found them.

But lo and behold, the bright red zero sits on his wrist, practically mocking him. He’d used all his words and he hadn’t even thought to check before he started the race. He rolls his eyes, finally moving over to his team who all looked at him with questioning looks. He holds up his wrist, showing off the Ferrari red zero.

His team shares looks between them, groans ringing throughout the group. Charles nods, not looking forward to the next race that was only two weeks away.

You, on the other hand, were absolutely pissed. You had been in the middle of a presentation in front of your entire college class when your voice suddenly stopped short. Your word counter was on your wrist. It had always been perfectly visible and you had even been staring straight at it when it suddenly changed from 21,897 to an annoying little zero. You had rolled your eyes, quickly holding up your wrist toward your professor who beckoned you toward him. He grabbed ahold of your wrist, examining the tattoo for a few seconds. Luckily, this teacher liked you, quickly waving you off to go sit back down with a mutter of emailing you after class.

As you laid in bed later that night, fingers moving rapidly over your phone screen as you FaceTimed your brother, you were still fuming. He had FaceTimed you after you’d informed him of your dilemma, his smug face trying his hardest not to laugh. Everytime he spoke, you’d text back quickly as a response.

They took away my captaincy you sent him, watching as his eyebrows furrow. He’d known how hard you’d worked to get a spot on the University’s soccer team, even becoming a captain as a junior.

“What, why?” Your brother replies. In another world, he was attending the school right along with you, attending parties and being the Florida frat boy you’d assume he was when you looked at him.

I can’t talk to anyone, can’t do my job you reply, nails tapping loudly against the screen, they said it was “temporary” 🙄

You watch as Logan reads the texts, eyes squinting slightly. You weren’t entirely sure where he was. Although, from the looks of it, you assumed he was in the paddock somewhere, considering the fireproofs hugging his skin.

“Why were you in class on a Sunday?” Logan asks suddenly and you roll your eyes at that being the only question he had.

I’m not usually

We came in today to do presentations

Logan hums, having no idea if that was common or not, as he’d never even been close to going to college. He’d been to your campus a few times whenever he was back in Florida but that was usually to go to your games or a frat party.

“You know what would make you feel better?” Logan asks, noticing the frown on your face. You glance up toward his grinning face to see what he had to say, “You know we’re in Miami the weekend after next, right? You should come.”

You immediately start to type into your phone but Logan speaks up instead, “If I never check my texts you never said no.”

You roll your eyes, texting more aggressively. Logan laughs at the sound but is quick to rebuke the claims you’re no doubt sending into his messages, “It’s not that far of a drive, come on! You’ll have fun and I’ll get to see you again, it’s been a while. I miss you.”

You pause at his last point, erasing the refusal you’d been typing. You take a second before sending a short message. He was right though, it had been a while. Your family lived in Fort Lauderdale and it was a pretty long drive to the University of Florida.

The drives five hours

“Oh shit, is it?” He asks, eyes wide. You can see the disappointment on his face, sensing your incoming refusal, “I didn’t know it was that far. You don’t have to-”

You’re picking me up

Logan cheers as he reads your final message and you roll your eyes, not fighting the grin that makes its way onto your face. It’d be nice to see your brother again. With the relinquishing as your duties as captain, you’d have a lot more free time on the weekends. You were also pretty sure you’d be asked to sit out of a couple games due to your inability to speak so you really had all the time in the world. Why not spend it with your older brother.

You bask in your brothers glee, noticing the happiness emanating from him as he animatedly plans your Miami Grand Prix weekend.

Ferrari, on the other hand, was having a terrible time.

They had been searching overtime for a solution to their “Charles can’t speak” problem. For the time being, they had Ollie stepping in for the upcoming Miami Grand Prix, as Charles couldn’t continue to race in his… “condition”.

Ollie had raced the entirety of the previous weekend and Charles wasn’t sure how much more he could take of being on the sidelines before he just fucked back off to Monaco.

The team wasn’t entirely sure how to find someone’s soulmate but they sure were trying. Charles had already been introduced to at least 100 different women since his words had disappeared. He was getting more and more annoyed by the day.

The worst part was that he wasn’t sure he’d ever find his soulmate. There was always the possibility that he’d never get to meet her and never get his words back. His stomach turned at the thought, knowing that he’d never get to race again if that happened. Everything he’d worked for and spent his life dreaming about would be stripped away because of a girl he didn’t know.

He knew it wasn’t her fault, wherever she was. He should’ve been paying more attention to his number as it ticked closer and closer to zero. The tattoo had moved, he knew he was the one to run out. What he hadn’t even considered was that he’d taken some poor girls voice away. He’d been so wrapped up in his own job that he hadn’t thought about the fact that some random girl just couldn’t speak anymore and it wasn’t even because of something she did.

Despite his inability to speak, he was still expected to be in the paddock, as he was basically the face of the team. So there he was, sitting grumpily in his chair with his sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. Media day had been hell. He’d still gotten interviewed, his sign language coming off a bit angrier than usual.

Due to how many people never meet their soulmates before they run out of words, sign language was taught in most schools. You’d think it’d be harder to tell someone was angry through sign language but Charles was managing to convey that just fine.

After two weeks of not speaking, Charles’ attitude was at an all-time low. The bright red zero sat on his wrist, practically mocking him. The sprint race had just ended, Ollie managing p7. Charles was, of course, proud of him but he was also filled with jealousy that Ollie got to be the one in his seat when it was all he wanted to do.

Ollie, as well, was starting to reach the end of the rope, not having expected to be cast into a full-time seat so suddenly.

As Ollie pulled back into the garage, Charles darted from his seat, not able to watch the pure elation on the younger man’s face. His feet carried him through to the paddock, workers from different teams mingling and discussing the race.

Charles wandered aimlessly, everywhere he looked a reminder of the life he might be losing.

Logan had finished p6 and you were thrilled. Not a much better way to start a home race (at least for a Williams). You found yourself trying to cheer, although no sound came out.

Lily had gone off to congratulate Alex, who’d finished just one place above Logan in fifth. When Logan had introduced you to Lily, you’d quickly noticed the green infinity sign on her hand, signaling that she’d met her soulmate. You couldn’t help the jealousy that spread through you as you watch her hug Alex.

After Lilys departure, you were left alone to wait for Logan to come back into the garage. You’d seen several celebrities mingling around the paddock, averting your eyes whenever anyone looked in your direction.

You’d usually be all up for meeting people, especially someone you looked up to but with your lack of words, meeting anyone would probably be a disaster and you don’t think you’d ever get over it if you embarrassed yourself in front of any of these people.

You don’t have to wait long as Logan comes back into the garage pretty quickly. He’s quick to exit his car, cheering and celebrating with his team. A small smile breaks onto your face as you watch him, happy to see him happier than he’d ever been with the team before.

He’s zipping down his race suit as he walks over to meet you, hair messy as he pulls his helmet off as well.

You mouth a quick “good job” to him and he wraps his arms around you, infecting you with his gross sweat.

You try to lean back but he hugs you tighter, swaying slightly with a laugh. When he does eventually pull away, you make a face at him, attempting to wipe his sweat off your arms. He laughs, ruffling your hair and walking toward the exit.

“Come on, im gonna go shower before quali later and we can go get lunch,” he says, nodding toward the paddock behind him. You nod, moving closer to follow him out.

As you and Logan walk along, he points out the different hospitalities and employees, identifying everyone he knew. At one point, Lewis Hamilton sprints past, a dog hot on his heels.

“Roscoe,” Logan says, eyes still locked on Lewis’ retreating figure.

You quirk your head with a questioning look. Logan’s quick to clarify, “The dog. His names Roscoe.”

At that, you smile, glancing over your shoulder at the dog again. You look back as Logan starts to explain something in front of you again, hand moving out to point at the Aston Martin hospitality.

As you both start to get close to Williams, Logan’s eyes lock on someone a bit away. He lights up, smirking as he turns to you, “That’s Charles Leclerc, Ferrari driver. He can’t speak either, you know?”

You nod blankly, having no idea what Logan was yapping about. Logan looks back to Charles with a grin, “Maybe I should introduce you two, you’d already have something in common.”

You’re shaking your head, not wanting to experience the awkward situation of not being able to talk to someone who can’t talk either, your idiot brother having to be the bridge between you two. It didn’t help that Charles was incredibly attractive. But Logan doesn’t listen to your protests, grabbing your arm to drag you toward the driver, his hand already moving to cup his mouth as he shouts, “Charles!”

Charles had managed to wander all the way over to the Williams hospitality, his thoughts elsewhere as he dragged his feet over the pavement. He was just considering leaving the paddock when he hears someone shouting his name, causing him to look their way.

He’s met with Logan, still in his race suit, dragging a girl behind him. Charles recognized you as Logan’s sister, he’d seen you around the paddock a few times but he’d never actually met you, not often being involved with anything Williams related.

Logan stops short in front of Charles, pulling you to his side. Charles has to stop himself from wincing at the pure joy on the American man’s face, aware that he’d just gotten points in the sprint. Charles bitterly thinks he’d wished it’d been him instead.

“Charles! This is my sister, y/n,” Logan explains, glee practically melting off of him, “She’s visiting from college for the weekend and I’m dragging her along to meet people.”

Charles nods, trying to force a smile onto his face. He briefly wonders if Logan knew he had no words and decided to introduce them anyway.

But when you don’t speak either, Charles glances down at your wrist, spotting the zero on it. He grimaces, knowing that not much could come from this interaction if neither of you could speak.

He nods respectfully in your direction, being met with a soft smile in response. If it had been any other weekend, Charles would’ve been able to appreciate how pretty you looked but he was instead plagued with thoughts about his soulmate instead.

Charles signals to Logan that he was going to go back to Ferrari and Logan nods, turning to step away as someone shouts his name. Charles steps forward to get past you just as you turn to see who was yelling for your brother, causing you to collide with Charles, his phone falling out of his hand.

You swing back around at the noise, leaning down to collect Charles’ phone for him. You’re quick to hand his phone back to him, his hand brushing yours as you pass it off. In your flustered state you don’t even think as you mumble a rushed apology to him.

“Sorry!”

“Thanks.”

You both pause, eyes locked onto each others for a second. You glance down at your wrist, catching the green infinity sign sat on your wrist. Charles looks down as well, his other hand reaching to wipe gently at the skin, as if the symbol would wash away and reveal it was a trick.

You’re the first to open your mouth again, tentative speech pouring out of your mouth, “Hi?”

You seem almost relieved to hear the word, taking a sharp breath as you hear it. Charles has to withhold the grin on his face as he speaks as well.

“Hi.”

When you hear him speak, you grin widely, laughing loudly out of pure joy. Charles laughs as well, the realization that he’d just met his soulmate crashing through him.

“I think I’m your soulmate,” you manage through your laugh, smiling warmly at the Ferrari driver, a light blush on your cheeks.

“I think you are,” Charles replies, eyes softening as he looks at you. You stand in front of him for a few moments, seeming to be debating something in your head. He’s about to ask you about it when you step forward, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him into a hug. Charles pauses before he melts into the hug, never-felt-before joy pulsing through him.

You pull away, still smiling as you pull your phone out of your pocket. You open your contacts, opening a new one and titling it “Charles ❤️” before you turn your phone to him.

He takes it gently, typing in his number and sending himself a text before he hands the phone back to you. You stand and smile at each other for a few moments before Charles opens his mouth to speak.

“Do you wanna get dinner?” he asks, a hand coming up to scratch nervously at the back of his neck, “After qualifying?”

You light up, excitement filling your face, “I’d love to, Charles.”

That’s when Logan decides to come back, unceremoniously swinging an arm over your shoulder, “I’m back! You ready to go? I’m starving.”

Logan’s already turned you around by the time he finished his sentence, steering you both toward his room. You glance over your shoulder to smile at Charles, waving goodbye slightly. Charles grins back, nodding in response.

“Where do you wanna go for lunch?” Logan continues to speak loudly, his voice echoing as you walk away.

Charles watches as you shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know.”

Logan’s head snaps toward you, eyebrows furrowed, “You’re speaking!”

You smirk, nodding your head at your brother.

Logan ponders this for a second with a smile before something comes to his head and his grin drops, “Wait you met your soulmate?! Who did you meet in that minute I was gone?! Y/N?”

You shake your head, crossing your arms as you walk away, Logan still frozen to his spot, “Y/N?! Wait!”

You stop in order for him to catch up, punching his shoulder lightly as he walks up, “You’re such an idiot.”

Logan gasps dramatically at your words, finally walking out of Charles’ earshot. Charles gazes after you as you walk away, a warm smile gracing his features. He pulls open his phone to see the text he sent from yours, quickly tapping to save your contact.

“Y/N ❤️”

——————————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

[makeitmingi]

Snuggles and Cuddles

Genre: Romance, Comedy, Fluff

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Girlfriend!Reader, Boyfriend!Yunho, Mingi (Cameo)

Summary: Yunho has the best alcohol tolerance amongst his friends. However, after a night out, you didn't think that his best friend would bring him home, absolutely wasted. Seems like alcohol unlocks a whole new side of your boyfriend you didn't know existed

Word count: 3.4K

Warning(s): Alcohol consumption, drunk-ness, y/n babies Yunho and teases him but all in good fun

A/N: I started this, not really having idol Yunho in mind. But I guess with Puddeongi, it means he's an idol right? Idk, I mainly wanted Yunho and Puddeongi in this story lmao

Tonight was finally a night to relax. No late night meetings, no work assignments to complete, nothing. So you put a movie on, turned off the light and nestled a tub of ice cream in your hand, enjoying your night off to the max.

"What time in Yunho getting back?" You thought out loud, checking your phone. Before knowing you had a night off, Yunho had made plans to go out for drinks with his friends.

Of course, your ever loving, sweet boyfriend immediately wanted to cancel to spend time with you when he found out but you insisted he go.

'Don't wait up for me, lovey~ I might be back late or go crash at Mingi's. - your Yuyu'

The last text he sent you was at 9:30pm. It was approaching midnight but you were not that worried. Yunho could handle himself.

*DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG*

"Ah! Coming." You put your bowl down and shuffled over to the door, wondering who was ringing your doorbell so incessantly. When you opened it, you were surprised to see Mingi standing there, struggling to hold up your drunk boyfriend. Mingi's face brightened up when he saw you there.

"(y/n)! Thank god." Mingi let out a sigh of relief. You blinked, taking in the scene before you. You've never seen Yunho so intoxicated before, he usually holds his liquor well compared to his friends.

"I-Is he okay?" You were unsure of what to do. Yunho's face was so flushed and eyes were closed.

"He's fine. Just had a little bit too much to drink. I wanted to bring him back to mine but he insisted on coming back here." He sighed.

"Oh... Thanks for bringing him home, Mingi. Are you sober enough to go home on your own? You can crash here if you'd like." You offered with a soft smile.

"I'm fine. One drunk is enough to keep you busy." He chuckled, stumbling a little as Yunho swayed.

"Alright, let me know when you get back." You said. Mingi nodded and you went over to help him, softly cupping Yunho's cheeks.

"(y/n)!" Yunho suddenly exclaimed loudly, making you and Mingi jump. He opened his arms and threw them around you, causing you to almost fall over. Luckily you held the wall.

"Yah. Don't hurt her." Mingi slapped the back of Yunho's head.

"Owww, don't hit me." Yunho pouted, nuzzling his head against yours affectionately. You patted his back to comfort him. It wasn't easy to balance yourself when your giant boyfriend decided to put almost his entire weight on you.

"I've got it, Mingi. Thanks again." You giggled. Mingi nodded and patted Yunho's head.

"Don't give (y/n) a hard time, Yunho ah." Mingi chided before leaving. You closed the door with your foot and guided Yunho in. There was no choice but to put him on the couch first.

"Yunho, are you alright?" You asked. He maintained his pout and shook his head.

"What's wrong?" You went closer to him. He didn't say anything but hugged your waist, burying his face against your stomach.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. Does your stomach not feel good?" You asked, running your fingers through his hair lovingly. His face and body was so warm compared to yours.

"My head hurts~" He whined.

"Alright, let me get you some medicine." You wanted to pull away but he only tightened his grip on you, shaking his head again.

"Silly, the medicine will make your head feel better." You chuckled.

"Noooooo~ I just want you~" He whined. You let out a soft sigh, unsure of what to do with a drunk, whiny Yunho. But he was honestly so cute. Normally, he was always such a gentle giant, a golden retriever, but he was never this needy and clingy with you. It was a whole new side of him that was so endearing.

"Yuyu, why don't we change and go to bed? We can cuddle then go to sleep." You offered. He looked up at you with excitement and nodded his head.

"Come on." You held your hand out to him, still supporting his body as you entered your shared bedroom to go to the bathroom.

"Sit here." You closed the toilet cover and let Yunho sit there while you grabbed his clothes.

"Where are you going?" Yunho asked but still stayed in his spot.

"I just went to get you some clean clothes, babe. It'll be more comfortable for you." You replied, putting the shirt and pajama pants by the sink. Yunho tilted his head.

"Arms up." You instructed. Yunho obediently raised his arms as you removed his shirt and helped him into one of his home shirts. It was hard when it came to changing his pants since his legs were so long, it was a struggle but you managed to do it.

"You're pretty." He giggled as he watched you wet a cloth with a dreamy grin on his face.

"Thanks?" You chuckled and wrung the cloth, proceeding to wipe his face gently since you didn't want to risk him showering and possibly falling or hurting himself in any way.

"I want to hold you." He said, arms reaching out for you like a sad child.

"I promise you can later, hmm?" You stroked his head. You rinsed the cloth and wiped his arms.

"This should cool you down." You carefully wiped his neck as well, which made him laugh and squirm. Yunho's laugh was always so infectious to you, the way he throws his head back to laugh.

"That tickles! And it's cold~." He giggled. You laughed along with him and grabbed his mouthwash.

"Do you think you can you rinse your mouth?" You asked since you didn't know how to help someone brush their teeth. He looked at you then the mouthwash, thinking for a while before nodding his head slowly. You had a watchful eye as he gargled the mouthwash.

"Spit." You instructed and he did. Thankfully he didn't swallow it.

"Good job, Yuyu." You reached up to pat his head. Yunho grinned bashfully at your praise and threw his arms around you.

"You smell nice~ So nice~" He buried his face against your shoulder, making you melt. You were wearing Yunho's shirt as a dress since he was so tall, like you always did. So you basically smelt like him.

"Let's get you to bed." You moved him out of the bathroom and to the bed.

"Here, I'll let you hug Puddeongi tonight." You helped him under the covers, grabbing Puddeongi and putting in into his arms.

"Hi, Puddeongi." He shyly waved to the plush as it stared back at him. He giggled and patted the plush's tummy. You had a stifle a laugh. You were usually the one to hug Puddeongi to sleep since Yunho preferred to hug you. Sometimes, he would even steal Puddeongi so you had 'no choice' but to hug him instead.

"Wait! Where are you going?!" Yunho genuinely looked like he was going to cry when he felt you pulling away from him. You stroked his hand to calm him down.

"I'm just gonna clear up, Yun. I'll be right back, I promise." You squeezed his hand.

"Promise?" Yunho pouted sadly and it did tug at your heart a little, seeing him so sad. You nodded your head.

"Okay..." He reluctantly let go of your hand, letting you go clean up. You went out to the living to wash your dirty ice cream bowl and turn off the television.

"See? I told you I'll be back, Yunho." You re-entered the room, seeing Yunho sulk, his cheek squished against Puddeongi's body. But when he heard you, he immediately perked up with a bright smile.

However, you didn't come back to bed immediately. Instead, you went to the bathroom to grab his dirty clothes that were on the ground and threw them into the laundry basket. You didn't want you or Yunho to trip while coming in. But you made sure you were in Yunho's view the entire time.

"(y/n)... Do you have a boyfriend?" Yunho asked as you moved around the room. From your position at the sink, you turned to see him sitting up, Puddeongi in his lap.

"Why is he so cute?" You mumbled to yourself, taking your phone to quickly snap a picture of him.

"I do." You nodded with a chuckle, washing your own face since you did sweat a little while helping Yunho. Yunho appreciated that you kept the door to the bathroom open so he could see you.

"Your boyfriend is very lucky to have you. You're so pretty." He replied with a serious tone.

"Yun, you are my boyfriend." You reminded.

"Oh... I am? Then I am very lucky to have you." He smiled, letting out a big sigh of relief. You laughed at him and hung the rinsed cloth up to dry then crawled into bed with him.

"Comfy?" You pulled the covers up after he laid back down, Puddeongi squished against his cheek. He nodded his head.

"Goodnight, Yun. I love you." You leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. But before you could turn around to turn off the bedside lamp, you noticed the pout and frown that was still on his face as he looked up at you.

"What's wrong? Does your head still hurt? Or your tummy?" You asked worriedly, stroking his head. Since he didn't let you get the medicine for him earlier, you didn't want him to be in pain.

"I want to hold you. Just now, you promised I could." He said with disappointment.

"I know, Yun. I'm just turning off the light and we can cuddle after." You smiled, turning off the light.

"I'm right here, okay?" You laced fingers with him. Yunho somehow managed to put Puddeongi on top of you to hug both you the plush in his arms.

"Hmm~ Hmm~" You heard Yunho making little noises.

"What's up, Yun?" You asked.

"Nothing. I'm just happy. I have you~ Puddeongi~" He said, kicking his feet with excitement. You were sure that if he was really a golden retriever, his tail would be thumping against the bed in happiness.

"Alright, happy boy. Go to sleep." You reached up to pat his head. You changed your position, letting Yunho hug your waist alongside Puddeongi, so he could lay his head on your chest to be the small spoon. His face and body were still a little warm but you liked having him close to you.

"Your heartbeat is pretty." He mumbled. Now you knew he was spewing nonsense. You giggled and stroked his head to try to lull him to sleep.

*BZZ BZZ*

"Hang on." You moved away to check your phone, unaware that Yunho was looking over your shoulder with a frown on his face.

'Hey, sorry I forgot to shoot you a text. I guess I fell asleep on the couch the moment I got back, didn't even have time to remove my shoes. But I'm back safe. - Mingi'

"Your phone light makes my head hurt. Stop." He whined, burying his face against your back.

"It's just your best friend telling me he's home safe." You informed, sending a quick reply to Mingi to give him an update about Yunho too.

"Ugh! Why are you talking to other guys? You said I am your boyfriend!" He huffed angrily, showing his frustration. You turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. The room was dark but the light from your phone illuminated his face a little.

"Yun... He's your best friend. He brought you home safely, we should make sure he got home safe too." You spoke to him slowly. Yunho turned his nose up from you.

"You big baby." You rolled your eyes but put your phone down. You were actually a little worried that your phone hurt his head.

"Okay, you just cuddle Puddeongi tonight. Goodnight, Yun." You wished. But suddenly, Yunho glued himself to you.

"Am not a baby." He mumbled against your chest as he hugged you like before, sandwiching you between the bed and Puddeongi. You hummed to appease him.

"I love you." He murmured as he drifted off to sleep.

"Love you too." You kissed his head and joined Yunho in dreamland.

The next time you woke up, Yunho had rolled away from you, snuggling with Puddeongi. You smiled softly and brushed his fringe away from his face so it wouldn't bother him.

"Rest well." You whispered. You couldn't help it, grabbing your phone to take a picture. Seeing Yunho's face squished against Puddeongi, it was too cute not to take a pic. After that, you tucked your phone away and adjusted the blanket over him before leaving the bedroom to let him sleep more.

When Yunho reached over, he expected his hand to reach yours or at least, your body. He didn't expect the empty space.

"Baby???" He sat up, looking at the Puddeongi in his lap in confusion. Why was he hugging Puddeongi and not you? He winced as he felt the pounding in his head.

"God..." He groaned, falling forward. When he heard the door open, he sat back up immediately.

"(y/n)?!"

"Woah, woah. Slow down, big guy. Are you alright?" You blinked in surprise at his reaction. He seemed like he was about to leap into your arms or something.

"You were not here." He sulked.

"I know, I wanted you to sleep more. And I cooked you food, you're always hungry after a night of drinking." You replied, sitting down.

"Gosh, what happened last night...? My head hurts so bad." He groaned and fell forward, leaning his head on your shoulder. You reached up to try and massage his head, hopefully being able to alleviate some of his pain.

"You don't remember anything?" You asked. He shook his head.

"It's okay. Here, I brought you some hangover cure and ginger ale, it'll help your head and tum. You can take meds later if you need." You told him, retrieving what you brought in for him.

"Lifesaver." Yunho said, downing the hangover cure. His face scrunched up at the bitterness but he chased it with the ginger ale.

"H-How did I get home? A taxi?" He asked.

"Mingi brought you home. He said he was going to bring you back to his to crash but you insisted on being brought home." You smiled. Yunho frowned slightly, trying to remember what happened.

"I'm drawing blanks here. I guess I really overdid it last night. Thank you for taking care of me, sorry if I troubled you." He sighed.

"What are you saying? Don't apologise, it's no trouble at all. You always take care of me when I'm on my period, we take care of each other when we're sick. It's just what we do, hmm? So no need to thank me and no need to apologise." You stroked his cheek and he leaned into your touch.

"That's right." He smiled, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it.

"So you really don't get remember anything?" You checked. Yunho's eyes widened at your words, shaking his head slowly.

"I-I didn't do anything, did I? Oh my god, did I hurt you?!" Yunho's hands flew to cover his mouth as he moved back from you, as if he was really scared.

"No! No, not at all, Yun. You didn't hurt me. I trust that you would never hurt me, no matter how intoxicated." You smiled softly.

"Phew! Cause if I did, I'll never forgive myself. I'll pack up and leave now." He let out a shaky sigh of relief.

"Okay, calm down. You didn't hurt me, no need to pack up and go anywhere." You chuckled. He smiled and leaned over to give you a kiss to your forehead, he was really the sweetest.

"You were mighty adorable though. I've never seen you like that before in all our years of being together." You giggled. Yunho merely looked at you and blinked in confusion at your words. You took your phone out and showed him the pictures that you took of him with Puddeongi.

"Delete this!" He yelled, grasping the device, his ears and neck turning red in embarrassment.

"No way! You were so cute. You were all whiny and clingy, wanting to hold me the entire time, kept saying I was pretty. I even needed to remind you that my boyfriend was you." You said.

"Please, if you love me, delete this. And delete from your brain what happened last night." He begged.

"I love you and I'm keeping this. When I let you hug Puddeongi, you even went 'hi Puddeongi'." You imitated the cute wave he did.

"Please stop, I beg you." He buried his face in his hands.

"Alright, I'll stop. Let's go eat the ramen I cooked you before it gets cold and soggy." You patted his head. Yunho nodded and went to brush his teeth before coming out to the kitchen.

You won't tell him that he was jealous of you texting Mingi last night, he seemed embarrassed enough. But thinking about it again made you laugh to yourself.

"Wait, are you still laughing at me?" Yunho stopped in his tracks when he caught you laughing quietly on your own. You lied and shook your head, putting the bowl of spicy ramen in front of him then grabbing him chopsticks and a spoon.

"Mmm, that hits the spot." He sighed blissfully after taking a sip of the salty, spicy soup. Thankfully it distracted him from how you were laughing at him.

"Are you eating, baby? You can have some." Yunho held his bowl out to you.

"It's alright, I had toast and coffee earlier when I woke up." You told him with a smile, placing your hand over his.

"That was great, just what I needed. Thank you, baby." Yunho leaned over to give you a kiss. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, Yunho took the opportunity to pull you down into his lap.

"Can we spend the rest of the day in bed?" He asked, resting his cheek against your shoulder.

"Of course, you might want to shower first though. I only wiped your face, neck and arms when you came back." You informed.

"Are you telling me I smell?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, even with a change of clothes, you did spend the night out in a public place and you kind of smell like day-old booze." You wrinkled your nose. Yunho rolled his eyes but leaned in to nuzzle his cheek against yours lovingly. While you cleaned up and did the dishes, Yunho went to take a shower.

"Ah, that was great." Yunho sighed blissfully as he stepped out of the bathroom. You sat up on the bed, putting your phone aside.

"Come." You patted the space in front of you. Yunho happily climbed over to you, leaning down as you helped him towel dry his hair like you always do.

"You have to comb your hair. It's always so frizzy and poofy." You giggled as you grabbed his brush.

"I know, that's why I have you to do it for me." He turned around to smile at you.

"All done." You went to put the towel back in the bathroom. When you came out, you saw Yunho laying there with his arm around Puddeongi as he checked his phone.

"Look at you being best friends after I let you spend the night holding him." You teased. Yunho shot you a glare and shoved Puddeongi back into your arms.

"Come here. I would rather hug you." He opened his arms and you slotted yourself in them. Yunho always insisted that you fit so perfectly in his arms. You hugged Puddeongi tight, he smelt like a mix of you and Yunho now.

"So, why did you and the boys drink so much last night? I mean, you've never gotten so drunk before." You asked.

"Oh... I don't know, I can't remember." Yunho shook his head. You hummed. You didn't know that Yunho was lying, he knew why the boys kept pouring him drinks last night.

It had to do with the small velvet ring box that was hidden in the pocket of his blazer in the closet.

[monamipencil]

— (s)exercise | ft. aerobics instructor! soonyoung

⋆ pairings; soonyoung x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut, crack, fluff ⋆ w.c; 3.4k+ ⋆ warnings; aerobics instructor! soonyoung, pseudo cheating (no cheating actually occurs, it'll make sense i promise), raw sex, creampie, oral (f. receiving), he gets cross-eyed at the sight of tits, multiple positions and multiple orgasms, lots of cursing, they're down bad for each other, he yaps and she listens, talks of kinks in public lmao, mentions of exhibitionism and roleplaying and i have no idea abt aerobics actually :) ⋆ a/n; first soonyoung smut and if u saw this post before, no you didn't (tumblr hates me). minors do not interact.

You check your phone for the address and look at the floor sign. Second floor. Shoving the gadget inside your duffle bag, you shuffle around, looking around for your class. At the end of the floor, a few neon lights flashing aerobics catch your attention. 

You jog towards the door and push it open. To your relief, a few people have already gathered in the room. Strolling the room, you settle down your bag and remove your jacket. 

The room is everything you expect from an aerobics classroom. Well-lit with mirror-covered walls. A platform is at the front of the room, slightly elevated compared to the floor. 

Aerobics doesn’t fall under your general list of interests. The only reason you find yourself here is because of your boyfriend, who suggested this class because he was interested and wanted you to take it up as well. Truth be told, you’re looking forward to this as well. The myriad of benefits root your interest. But your boyfriend’s interest tops everything else. 

A chorus of greetings echoes through the room, and you notice the new arrival. You jog towards the crowd and stand somewhere in the second row. 

And then, you notice him. 

Upturned eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. The most perfect pair of lips stretched into a grin. The white tank top he's adorning displays his strong shoulders and toned arms. He’s beautiful. You force yourself to keep your eyes on his face. 

He looks around the room with a small smile. Your heart skips a beat when his eyes find yours. You smile at him, and he nods, grinning at you. 

“Good evening, everyone. I'm your instructor Soonyoung for beginner classes. I hope you all have a good time here.” He claps, and the women and men around you cheer. 

You're unable to take your eyes off him, drawn by his allure. Before you know it, the class starts, and upbeat techno music fills the room. 

He stands on the platform, starting off with a few stretches. Shoulder stretch, toe touch, side bend, hip rotations. His back faces the class, and he monitors through the mirror. Your heart beats wildly against your rib cage each time you lock eyes with him.

You huff a short breath, following through the exercises. The warm feeling never leaves your chest, and your knees grow weak each time he looks at you. 

Soonyoung is facing the class now. His toned body, drugged with adrenaline, moves effortlessly to the music. You remind yourself to keep your body moving instead of gawking at him. 

Sweat mats his hair to his forehead. A gentle shade of pink settles on his skin, but he doesn’t look tired. Ardor seeps from him, causing you to keep up with his moves. 

Once again, his eyes land on yours. But this time, he lingers longer. You dare to hold eye contact as you mirror his movements. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, and your heart hammers inside your chest. He shifts his eyes towards the others. 

Stray hair sticks to the side of your face, and sweat gathers at your back. But you could care less about everything else now. The room is sweltering, though you don’t know whether to chalk it up to the exercise or your very hot instructor. 

“Alright! 1, 2, 3!” his raspy voice booms as he switches to another move. This involves jumping, and you can't help but ogle his perfect muscles each time his shirt rides up. 

Unbeknownst to you, Soonyoung observes you. More specifically, your eye placement. A smirk graces his lips, but he doesn’t let his gaze linger too long. He tries his best to not let his eyes dip down. 

And so the class continues. 

You get stuck during some moves, and embarrassment crawls on your skin when he double-checks if you are ok. Even through the crowd of bodies, his eyes always find yours somehow. And maybe you are imagining it, but you swear his eyes dipped down to your chest. 

With warmth pooling in your stomach, you try to get through the class. You stare at him. He stares back and smiles. 

“Hi,”

Startled by the sudden presence, you almost spit out the water in your mouth. You manage to swallow it, trickles of the fluid flowing down your chin to your neck. Soonyoung follows the water drop till it reaches your cleavage, disappearing behind your tank top.

“Oh, hi!” you chirp with unfiltered joy but with much regret you bite your tongue right after. He flashes you a grin and steps closer to you, “So, liked the class?”

You nod your head, “Yep! I'm considering to continue here.”

His grin only widens, cheeks puffing up in the most adorable manner. If it weren't for his toned biceps and pecs peeking out through his tank top, you would've paid his cute face more attention.

The other attendees are trickling out of the studio, too immersed in their conversations which reminds you to take off as well. You grab your duffle bag, and flash your hot instructor a small smile.

You open your mouth to bid your goodbye when he cuts you off, “You can stop acting, you know?”

Confused by his statement, you blink and stare at him. All while he tongues his cheek, and leans closer towards you. Your lungs heave, intimated by his proximity.

He takes a step closer and you, a step back. So it goes, till your back hits the wall and he closes the distance between you, pressing his body against yours.

“Soonyoung, we shouldn't do this” you whisper. Yet arousal floods your veins and his body heat wafts to your sweltering skin. With a gulp, you look into his eyes. He moves closer and you tighten your legs together.

A yelp escapes your lips when tugs you to him, enveloping your body with his arms. His muscles press against your body through the material of shirt. His defined arms feel so right around you. And you can't help but drown in his eyes.

His hands drift down, taking purchase on your ass. He kneads them in his hands, pushing you further into his embrace. You give in, wrapping your arms around his neck and connecting your lips to his.

Soonyoung moans at the contact and wastes no time in kissing you back. His tongue darts past your teeth, gliding over yours. The heat of his mouth is a much welcomed one and you feel yourself growing hotter with each passing second.

Your arousal travels down south, making your cunt throb with need and dripping down your folds. Your panties stick to you like second skin, adding to your heightened feelings.

“Soonyoung, someone might walk—”

“Yeah, fuck.” He pulls back, chest heaving with each breath he forces in.

He takes a moment to compose himself before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and guiding you to the door. You grab your bag in a hurry and follow him. But he stops right before and says, “Locker.”

With a chaste kiss to your cheek, he jogs out to the destination. You wait for a few seconds before leaving as well, following your instructor who's a few steps ahead of you.

You barely make it to the door that reads staff only, before you're pulled into the room with a force that knocks breath off your lungs. His hands are all over you again and he kisses your neck and travels up to your lips.

Your lips connect once again. You cherish the softness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue. But it doesn't reach the intensity of the previous one as he reduces them to pecks and pulls away.

Soonyoung locks the door and pulls you further into the locker room. Your eyes dart all over the new space, taking in the silver lockers and the wooden benches. It's well-kept and neat with the smell of some cheap air freshener.

You don't mind it though. Why would you even spare anything else a thought when your hot instructor stands in front of you, removing his barrier of a top?

You take a moment to appreciate the fine specimen standing before you. His abs glisten under the studio lights, giving him a god-like image. He looks like a fucking Greek god.

“Done gawking?” The corner of his lips tug up, smug lining them. His eyes are way darker than what you observed at the start of the class. Lust swirls through his irises, and the thoughts behind them seem to tread nowhere near innocence.

“Come on, give me something to stare at too.”

You scoff and give him what he wants, removing your tank top to expose your breasts, still hindered by the sports bra. His eyes are fixated on them, silently begging you to take it off as well.

The bra comes undone, landing on the floor soundlessly. And, he's on you, like a fiend out for blood. His hands cup your breast, thumbing your pebbled nipples. He pinches and tugs on them, inflicting you with the right mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Fuck, come here.”

He settles down on one of the wooden benches in the middle and tugs you down to perch on his lap. This position gives him the liberty of being face to face with your tits. And he's already cross-eyed at the prospect of having his lips around them.

He does just that, kissing the flesh of your breast before taking one nipple into his mouth. He moans as soon as his tongue greets your sensitive skin, licking all around it. He sucks with a fervor that makes your pussy throb and clench around nothing.

Soonyoung moves to the other one, doing the same but this time, he toys with your other nipple. He flicks the bud with his tongue, and circles the areola. He finishes with a loud pop, looking at the mess he created with a cheeky smile.

You shudder, trying to catch your breath. His dazed visage and hung open mouth prompts you to kiss him. His hands skate up the naked skin of your back, waking goosebumps as he does so. Sweat prickles your skin and your core swelters with an insatiable need. He takes your breath away with his kiss as well breaths life down your lungs.

Something poking your thigh shifts your attention. Fucking hell, did he just throb?

You don't hesitate to wrap your fingers around his clothed cock. It causes him to hiss and whine immediately, hips bucking into your hand for attention. A chuckle slips past your lips and you eye his face, contorting in ecstasy, though you've barely done anything.

Hooking a finger under his waistband, you pull his boxers and tracks down to his thighs. “Shit—” he sounds like he's about to cry. A smirk lines your lips.

You slowly wrap your hand around his length, giving it a few experimental pumps. A plethora of curses fly from his lips, prompting you to thumb his tip. And, just like you had predicted, he gasps and cries out loud when you tease his slit.

As much as you'd like to tease him further, you're way too horny and pent-up. You get up, pulling his tracks down further and let it pool down on the floor. He kicks them off completely before purchasing his hands on your hips.

Wide, lust filled eyes stare up at you. He kisses the exposed skin on your abdomen before pulling down your tights. You help him get rid of it and without any warning, he presses his thumb on your folds. The pads of his fingers rub on the ruined cloth, occasionally grazing your clit.

Soonyoung strips you bare, tossing your panty to rest of the clothes. He kneels on the floor and kisses your mound before traveling further to your core. He tongues your folds, sucking and slurping on your clenching hole before shifting his attention to your clit.

He fixates there, sucking on your little nub with everything he's got. Wanton moans fill the locker room as he flicks his tongue on the bundle. You card your hand through his hair and force him further into your cunt.

Hiking a leg up on the wooden bench, you give him better access to your needy core. “Fuck, wanted to do this the moment you stepped into the studio,” warm breath wafts against your cunt as he mutters, drunk on your essence.

His tongue explores your folds again. He pushes out his tongue and moves his head up and down to lick stripes on your cunt. The brush of his nose against your clit makes you gasp and ride his face as you hold his head still.

He doesn't mutter a word, opting to obey your wishes while you use him for your pleasure. You grind your hips on his tongue, desperately seeking a release. He moves his head in sync with your hips, licking all over your cunt and your hole.

You grow breathless and pace up your speed. Wetting two of your fingers, you bring them down to rub your clit while grinding on his tongue.

Soonyoung leaves imprints on your thighs with his nails, forming moon-shaped marks. You look fucking divine in his eyes right now, and he can only focus on your shut eyes and your lips that form the perfect ‘o-shape.’

Your orgasm washes over you with a shudder and a gasp, “shit.”

Your hips buck into his tongue and your legs quiver, the strength leaving your body slowly. He licks up all your juices before sitting on the bench and pulling you onto his lap.

His cock prods your core, throbbing and oozing with precum. You hold onto his strong shoulders as he rubs the tip on your folds, mixing your fluids together.

“Soonyoung,” you whine and push your tits on his face. He mutters a curse, and pushes his tip in. He slips in with no effort, thanks to how soaked you are. His perfect cock, sitting snugly inside you now.

“Fuck, you're throbbing.”

You bury your head in the crook of his neck, trying not to lose it. He shifts under you, finding a more comfortable position. Curling your arms around his broad shoulders, you press your lips to his in a soft kiss.

You press your chest to his, feeling the searing heat of skin on yours. His hands skate down your back to your ass. He gropes and squeezes them, kneading the flesh.

“Ah—shit, stop clenching.”

Without any warning, he thrusts. It catches you off guard, prying a loud moan from your chest. “Oh fuck, yes!”

“You sound so pretty,” he whines, moving his hips up and down. He drives his cock into you cunt with a pace that gets your mind all fuzzy.

You meet his hips halfway, bouncing up and down on his cock. Your moans sync and the sound of skins slapping fills the locker room. His cock fits snugly between your gummy walls, hitting all the right spots. Your arousal drips down his cock, forming a creamy ring around his base.

While you're drunk on his cock, Soonyoung is entranced by your tits as you bounce on his cock. He wraps his lips around your nipple, savoring how it feels in his mouth. The flicking of his tongue makes you curse and moan his name.

Suddenly, he stops his movement and pulls out. Confused by what he's doing, you quietly observe him. Standing up, he gently pushes you to the locker. The cold metal bites your skin, providing your searing skin some relief.

“Wrap your leg around me,” he mutters, already pulling your leg up to his hips. You do as he asks, wrapping it around his hips while the other stays planted on the ground.

He guides his cock into your cunt again, filling you to the brim. He rubs your clit while thrusting sloppily. You can't help the moans that escape you. He just knows how to make your body writhe in pleasure. His other hand holds your leg as he thrust lazily.

Your moans egg him on and your lower lip tucked between your teeth drives him absolutely crazy. He picks up his pace, driving his cock into your cunt like a wild animal. That paired with his harsh rubs on your clit makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Oh, fuck fuck fuck.”

Your nails dig into his back, as you try to keep yourself grounded. But it's in vain with him moving his hips with expertise and god, his fucking hand on your clit is driving you insane. Your stomach tightens with another impending orgasm. He knows how to make you cum too.

You clench around his length wildly, bringing his climax nearer as well. It hits you sooner than you expect and absolutely drives you off the cliff. Your legs quiver and so does you body, shaking with the intensity of the release.  

Soonyoung fucks you through your high, chasing his own. It doesn't take much time for his cock to throb, spilling ropes of cum inside your cunt. He ceases his movements, breathless and quivering.

He embraces you, resting his head on your shoulder. You comb your hand through his soft locks while trying to catch your own breath.

“Ugh, we need to hit the showers.”

You come back from the shower, changed into new clothes when you notice Soonyoung cleaning the benches and the floor. You feel bad but also can't help the chuckle that escapes you.

The sound makes him stop his cleaning, eyes snapping to you. Your hot, sexy instructor is now replaced by your flushed and tired boyfriend.

He discards the cleaning gloves and rag somewhere and cleans his hands before approaching you. He flashes a grin at you and pinches your cheek, followed by the loud smack of his lips on it.

“So? how was my class? Am I a good teacher?”

“Yeah, it was good. You were good. For both teaching and fucking by the way.”

He giggles, and pulls you into a tight hug. “I love you so much. And are you really considering to continue?”

“I love you too and yes. I found a new hobby,” His grin widens, pink dusting his cheeks.

“Not just aerobics but I also found torturing you very joyous.”

He stops smiling, lips tugging down. You can already hear the whine from miles away.

A whine escapes his lips causing you to smile and laugh. “Stop laughing! I literally would've cum untouched just by looking at you in that fit.”

You pat his head and move to take your duffle bag. He follows behind you, stopping his rant for a second to retrieve his bag as well. Only for a second though.

“Also? where are the staff in this building? I thought we'd get caught multiple times.” You ask, genuinely confused by the lack of souls wandering the studio.

“Slow fridays. The other studios are closed for the weekend except for the gym.” He explains, “and is that another kink of yours? getting caught?”

“You wish.”

“I actually discovered something.” He informs, eyes refusing to look at yours. A shy visage takes over his face and you wonder why he's acting like that. You hum, telling him to go on. 

“I almost creamed myself when you acted like you didn't know me.” Confusion takes over and you stop in your tracks to look at him, incredulously.

“Do you have an abandonment kink or something?” 

“What? No! like—you acted like we were strangers and we were doing something sinful. I'm pretty sure you even said that you had a boyfriend and that you shouldn't cheat him.”

You laugh at his statement and continue walking out of the building with him following you. “First of all, I never said that. Second, I think you like roleplaying.”

It's like a bulb lighted up above his head when you say that and he's struck in realisation for a few seconds. “But roleplay...” his voice dwindles down, realizing it's not the best to talk about kinks loudly in a crowded street.

He clears his throat, and continues in a much lower voice. “Isn't roleplay like dressing up?”

“Yes,” you affirm, “But also like scenarios. Say for example, I can roleplay as the next door milf and you, the horny bachelor.”

“Fuck, can we do that?”

Laughter booms from your chest and you raise your hand to hit his chest. But in the process, your hand grazes his crotch and he's hard.

You both look down at the newcomer. “I think we better get home fast, or we might be exploring your exhibitionism kink as well.”

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 1 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: Your ex-boyfriend gives you his dealers number, but you don’t expect for him to be so fine. And you certainly don’t expect him to be so goddamn flirty. (3.4k)

WARNINGS: descriptions and dealings of recreational drugs (weed), little bit of swearing, slight sexual themes and lots of shameless flirting. THIS IS A MODERN AU!!

A/N: the first part is here and I’m so excited!! Im still unsure how many parts this is going to be, but there’s a lot I want to happen in this series so probably (I’m guessing!!) six or seven, but we’ll see!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy <3

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Your patience was wearing thin. Very fucking thin. Those three grey dots mocked you as they bubbled at the bottom of the screen—disappearing and reappearing again—until they were replaced with another less than satisfying message.

Brandon: are you taking the piss? Why didn’t you just ask when you were here earlier?

You scanned the message over, swallowing back the groan at the idea of another potential argument. You needed to nip his attitude in the bud, you weren’t entertaining his bullshit anymore. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, your fingers quickly typed a response.

You: I didn’t realise I was out until I got home. Can you get any or not? Just lmk

The dots appeared again after a few moments of silence, and you prepared yourself for the snarky remark he was most likely to give you, and took a deep breath to compose yourself in advance.

Brandon: no. I can’t get you any. Sort it out yourself for once.

There was no way in Hell you were going to let your frustrations show. Despite the pure anger and annoyance that began to bubble even more within you.

Brandon could be a lot of things. A liar. A cheat. And a fucking asshole. In all honestly, the only thing he was truly good for was the occasional above par fuck and the fact that his dealer had the best weed you’d ever smoked.

But when they were the only two good things he had going for him, it was hard to justify the disgusting behaviour he showed throughout almost your entire relationship. You broke up every few weeks as it was, but if you’d known about the cheating before, you would’ve left for good sooner.

Instead, you found out a year and half into the relationship, coming to the deafening conclusion that he had, in fact, never been faithful for a single moment of his adult life.

Fuck him. And fuck his shit sex. The weed, you could get yourself.

You: lmao ok. What’s his number?

A heartbeat after he read the text, he was calling you. And the moment you answered the call, he was his usual, un-charming self.

“What the fuck do you mean what’s his number?”

“Hello to you, too.” You murmured, tucking yourself under the blanket on your couch.

His clipped tone didn’t startle you, didn’t worry you about any form of consequences. He wasn’t scary, even when he tried to be. He was just a douche.

“What do you mean what’s his number?” He repeated himself, that agitation growing thicker and thicker with every word he spoke.

“How else am I supposed to get any?”

“Find your own dealer.”

He was being bitter now, pathetically so. You picked at the aged edges of your book, a novel you’d read five times over but one you couldn’t get enough of. Your love for it could be seen by the fading print of the front cover and the severely broken spine—despite how careful you tried to be with your readings.

“Brandon, I’m not going to find a random dealer. Your Azriel guy has good stuff and I know it’s safe. Besides, me going to the same person as you is not going to affect you in any way.”

He was silent for a moment, mulling over your words. Despite his dreadful personality and lack of love and care and compassion, he knew how little you knew about marijuana. He was the one that taught you to roll, after all.

You’d barely smoked before you met him, and on the rare occasions you did get high, it was usually in the form of gummy edibles your friends had. And you weren’t addicted or reliant on it in any way. You just enjoyed a smoke every now and then if you’d had a long day.

Alcohol had never been your favourite, and you much preferred to feel the chilled buzz from a joint than cradle a hangover for two days after a soirée.

“Fine. I’ll text you his number. Say Marco gave it to you, it’s a code he made up—had cops on him a while ago. He can be a bit of an ass, don’t let him shit talk you. Ask for a 3.5, he usually charges 40 for it. It’ll last you a couple weeks unless you’re planning on smoking heavy.”

It was easy to be pulled back in when he was like that. When he did the bare minimum of offering advice on things he knew you weren’t too sure on. But you were better than that now, smarter. You weren’t going to fall back into your old ways again.

Not with him. Not with anyone.

“I’m not. Thank you.”

The line went dead as soon as the words left your mouth and a few moments later, he texted you Azriel’s number. You would’ve appreciated a reminder of what you were supposed to ask for but at least you got his number. Small wins. You weren’t his responsibility anymore.

It took you a few minutes to figure out what to say, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you typed and erased, typed and erased. Until you settled on ‘Is this Azriel?’ and finally sent the message.

Ten minutes passed and you didn’t get a response. Your nose was tucked back into your romance novel as you chewed on the drawstring of your hoodie. In all honesty, you could’ve quite easily slipped into a peaceful slumber under the warm golden glow of your lamps.

That was another thing Brandon couldn’t respect. Your No Main Light rule. The vibes were always immaculate with gentle warmth from lamps. The main light was not allowed on under any circumstances. You much preferred the cosy feeling of golden hues that accentuated the deep green leaves of your plants and vines that scattered the walls and crevices of your home.

Your phone chimed from your lap, a small surge of anxiety pulsing in your chest. You unlocked the screen and read over the message.

Azriel: depends who’s asking.

Ah, Brandon did warn you. You considered fucking the whole idea off. Maybe cracking open a bottle of wine and snuggling on the couch with a book or tv show would be better than having to meet this asshole, but the bottle of White Zinfandel wouldn’t give you the mellow buzz you wanted.

Not unless you had at least four glasses which was usually paired with a hangover the next day. Something you did not want to entertain. So, you bit the bullet and typed your reply.

You: y/n, got your number from Marco. You about?

The more you let your mind wander, the more you realised how little you knew. You had no clue how this sort of thing worked. Would he come to you? Your home? Would you meet at a location of his choice? Or would he just stash the weed somewhere for you to collect and you don't cross paths at all?

But the burning fire of the what-if anxiety was quickly trampled and extinguished when another text came through and instead of him deciding for you, you were given choices.

Azriel: sure, I can meet you at old tower in 20 if that’s good for you? If not I can drop to your location.

He didn’t seem as much of an ass now. No, quite the opposite. But you supposed that offer was something he probably gave to all new, female clients. If he truly was an ass or not, you couldn’t fault him for the consideration.

Old Tower was the old old watermill tucked slightly away in the centre of the city. It had been derelict for years, but due to its location—so close to all the necessities and right opposite the police station—no one ever tried to break in or set it alight like the many other derelict listed buildings had been in the past.

Even now, at almost midnight, that part of the city would still be bustling with city-natives and tourists alike. And you appreciated the safe and public meeting spot he suggested.

You: old tower in 20 is fine.

As quickly as you sent the message, you received another reply. A text describing his blue Mustang and his licence plate. You shook the nerves off as soon as they came. Azriel was respectful and well known. He dealt to make his money and that was that.

But the facts didn’t stop you from sharing your location with Brandon just in case, nor did it stop you from double checking you still had your little pepper spray clipped to your keychain.

The walk to the Old Tower wasn’t a bad one. There were many ways you could access it, most of them leading you through the city, but here were a few that hid you behind back roads and alleyways—those were routes you never took. Not on your own and certainly not in the middle of the night.

The air was still a bit sticky from the summer heat, and while the denim shorts you wore kept your body cool, you were grateful you kept on your hoodie—just that extra layer that protected your arms and shoulders from the chill of the breeze that your legs never seemed to experience.

It didn’t take long for you to reach the Old Tower, and it took even less time to spot the electric blue 2022 Ford Mustang. Small tufts of white smoke emitted from the exhaust as it sat in its standstill, headlights facing the opposite direction of what you came in, but you could still hear the engine humming from your short distance away.

You double checked the licence plate to the number Azriel texted you, and slowly made your way closer. While you didn’t know much about drop offs, deals, and weed in general, you did know the unspoken rules of picking up. And if you were picking up from someone in a vehicle, most people got inside for a few minutes before leaving.

Azriel must’ve noticed you from the rear view mirror because just as you approached the back of the car, the passenger door opened wide, inviting you in. You sucked in a breath but accepted the invitation, keeping your eyes forward as you settled into the warmth of the leather seat and closed the door shut.

You finally let your body shift and your eyes met his. And you were fucking done for.

You’d never seen a man so strikingly fucking beautiful before. He was tall, lean and muscular and oozed pure sex and charisma. Tan, golden skin and dark, luscious hair that swept loosely down his forehead and curled gently around the tops of his ears.

His face was chiselled not too sharply, a subtle gentleness to the stark contrast of the cold, brooding aura he carried. And those eyes. Christ, those fucking eyes. Hazel iris’ that dripped with a golden hue of honey.

You swallowed down the dry lump in your throat and willed your lips to part so you could finally speak. “Thank you for meeting me so late.”

And Azriel was absolutely hooked.

When you’d texted barely thirty minutes ago, he did not expect to be meeting with someone so fucking gorgeous. Your soft hair was twisted in a loose braid that hung over your shoulder, wayward strands having fallen from the updo and framing your face mesmerizingly.

Your eyes were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen; rich in colour and wide with slight anxiety, despite the sleepiness he could slightly notice beneath them. Your voice sounded like a fever dream. It wasn’t sickly sweet like most women he knew or dealt to. Perhaps it was just the sleep, but there was a rasp—a very slight ruggedness—in your tone and Azriel was certain he’d never heard something quite so sensual in his life.

He cleared his throat, that all too cheeky grin teetering on the corners of his mouth. “I was already out,” he shrugged, nonchalantly. “How much are you after?”

His voice was a perfect blend of sweet and rough. A deep depth to his tone that skipped hand-in-hand with a sweeter note. God, he was unreal, and the sound of him had you forgetting entirely what exactly Brandon told you to ask for.

You pulled your lips between your teeth and offered a very sheepish—but mostly embarrassed—smile. “Um… I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologising for the second time tonight. “My ex used to do this part, so I have no idea how this works.”

You couldn’t help the flush that rose to your cheeks at your own admission, couldn’t handle being the subject of his firm gaze, and you absolutely could not fucking handle the soft rumble of rich laughter that chuckled through him.

“Do you smoke a lot?” Azriel finally asked, a slightly amused smile on those full lips of his. His pink tongue swiped out to wet them and your heart thundered against your ribcage at the sight.

“Not really,” you cleared your throat. “Just every now and then. Semi-regularly, I guess.” There was no such thing as semi-regularly when it came to drugs and alcohol. To someone’s own self, sure. But not the general mass that consumed whatever it was they did.

Some considered three joints a day ‘semi-regular’, while others considered it as a joint every few days. Azriel had a feeling you were the latter, but he didn’t say anything about his thoughts or what you’d said.

Instead, he hummed and chewed at the inside of his cheek in thought. He wasn’t laughing at you or your lack of knowledge or understanding. Usually, he’d have kicked a new client out of his car by now and told them to figure it out on their own—he was a dealer, not a fucking private tutor—but with you, he didn’t seem to mind explaining or breaking things down so it was easier to understand.

Neither of you quite understood why he was happy to explain, but you didn’t complain. You’d much prefer this than the alternative version of him that you’d been warned about.

“A 3.5 would probably be best for you, then.” He decided.

Yes, a 3.5… that sounded very familiar. You nodded, slowly, considering your next words carefully. You had already disclosed the most embarrassing part of not having a fucking clue how this worked, one more probably wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous,” you chuckled nervously, scratching at the nape of your neck. “But can you break that down in joint terms?”

Azriel laughed again, softer this time, through a breath. It was odd, really. He wasn’t laughing to be cruel or to embarrass you further. It seemed to you that perhaps he found it endearing—your innocence on the matter—and maybe, just maybe, you reminded him of himself when he too at one point, had no idea either.

“It depends on how strong you have them. Do you smoke blunts or just joints?”

Your eyes widened animatedly. “God, no. Just joints. I think a blunt might wipe me out.”

A glint of warmth and light fluttered through his eyes for a split second. “So, a 3.5 would get you like seven joints.”

“Yeah, that would last me like a week, two weeks.” You nodded. “I’ll have a 3.5 then, thank you.”

Azriel hummed in agreement, and it was only when he reached for the centre console and flipped open a compartment that you saw his hands. His golden skin was marred beyond belief, etched in burns and an array of pigmented colours. Your stomach lurched at the sight. Not from fear or pity or disgust, no. Your stomach twisted in agony, your brain couldn’t comprehend a reason for scars like that.

You looked away as quickly as you clocked them, not wanting to stare and not wanting him to notice. You supposed he was used to lingering gazes, but you would not be a name added to that list of people.

Azriel did nothing but make you feel comfortable in the brief few minutes of meeting one another. He was kind enough to not laugh in your face and kick you out of his car after your admittance. You were not about to make him feel uncomfortable either.

He pulled out a small plastic baggie stuffed to the brim with forest green nuggets and handed it to you between two scarred, pinched fingers. You took it gratefully, a full and genuine smile on your lips now as you thanked him, reaching into the back pocket of your denim shorts for the cash.

“Did you want me to roll them for you, too?” Azriel’s teasing voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes snapped to him with a stern look. “‘Cause that’ll cost you extra.”

“I know how to roll, thank you.” You bit back, and while your voice and tone held all the conviction, the amused glint in your eye and the corners of your mouth told him he hadn’t offended you in the slightest.

“It’s twenty-five.” Azriel chuckled from beside you.

Your brows furrowed as you pulled out two twenty’s, meeting his gaze again. “Isn’t it usually like forty?”

The air now smelt of that tangy, vile scent, something that you don’t think you’d ever get used to. Or enjoy. He shrugged, flipping down the lid of the compartment between you. “You’re a new client.”

You raised a brow now, a taunting smirk creeping at the corner of your mouth. “Do you always undercharge new clients, then?”

Azriel liked you. Very much. You didn’t shy away or hide your personality from him, even after only knowing one another for barely an hour in total. He had a feeling he was barely scraping the surface.

He matched your stare, only he wasn't teasing. “Only the pretty ones.”

There was no hiding the heat that crawled up your neck and sat heavy on your cheeks. It had been a long while since you received a genuine compliment. Let alone one so forward and from someone so unexpected. You averted your gaze from him, looking at the two twenty’s in your hand. Raising them, you pursed your lips.

“I only have two twenty’s on me. So you may as well take the full forty.”

Azriel didn’t listen. Instead, he pinched one note from your hand, his skin brushing yours but you didn’t falter, didn’t shy away. He was warm, and despite the scars and marred skin, his skin was softer than you expected.

You huffed, not ungrateful for the discount but this was his livelihood and taking away from that felt wrong to you.

“Let me know when you’re out.”

You smiled appreciatively and nodded, stuffing the bag and cash into your hoodie pocket and reaching for the door handle. “I will. Nice to meet you, Azriel.”

He watched you climbed out of the car, offering another warm smile as the cooler evening air kissed at his skin. He wanted to ask how you were getting home, if you’d be walking alone or if you needed a ride. But Azriel couldn’t cross those lines, especially not with someone he only just met.

So he bit his tongue and prayed to the Mother above to get you home safely. “You too, Y/N.”

He started up the engine again as soon as the door closed, but he didn’t drive away. He watched you through the rear view mirror until you were out of sight and when he finally looked down, he found his jeans tight around his crotch and a painful erection.

“Fuck.”

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[seventeenpins]

⁵⁾ pressing the pads of their fingers into their lips in the aftermath, like they’re either trying to capture the feeling or banish it from memory

with x1!Logan pretty plssssss 😏

YES Ozzie omg thank you I love this ❤️

Forbidden Fruit

pairing: dbf!Logan x neighbor!reader word count: 3.4k summary: You’re a little obsessed with your attractive new neighbor. Unfortunately, he’s quite a bit older than you... And your dad's new best friend. content/warnings: non-mutant AU, unspecified age gap, written as x1 Logan, Scott is your dad (sorry), silence of the lambs spoilers???, yearning, tbh yall are as bad as each other, smut a/n: lmao this was supposed to be a drabble 🤷 ty to @ozarkthedog, the most perfect human 🩷

There’s a party roaring outside. As a general rule, your dad doesn’t like to throw parties often, but when he meets the man who’s moving in next door, he announces to you his plan. “Hosting a new neighbor helps to establish a good relationship!” he insists, and that’s that.

You’re sat in the living room, the space dimly lit, nursing a Pabst Blue Ribbon as the glow of your latest Blockbuster rental illuminates your face.

"You even old enough to drink?" comes a voice just outside the door frame. 

You jump, beer sloshing gracelessly down your front. You turn to him, glowering. He’s silhouetted from the hallway and you can’t make out his face. “Yep,” you tell him, “I just have an immaculate skincare routine. Keeps me youthful.”

“So you’re hiding inside… because?”

You shrug. “Just like time to myself.”

He nods, and then strides over. He takes a seat beside you.

“Who are you, exactly?” you frown, looking him up and down.

“You mind?” he asks, smirking as he wiggles the beer you didn’t realize he was holding and nods towards the bottle opener. The audacity.

You glare and grab the bottle opener. He holds his hand out for it, but you withdraw. 

“Logan,” he laughs, “Logan Howlett. I just moved in next door.”

“Oh,” you drop the bottle opener into his hand, remembering your dad’s words. Establish a good relationship. “Oh, yeah, my dad was really excited about the party. Hope you’re enjoying it.”

His eyebrows raise. “Your dad?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Scott Summers.”

“No shit,” he frowns, “That guy sends a lot of emails.”

“That he does.”

Logan pops his bottle open. “Mind some company?”

“Long as you don’t mind watching Silence of the Lambs starting part way through.”

“Ohhhhh yeah, has he asked for a quid pro quo yet?”

“Aahh, a connoisseur,” you grin, “Yeah, just got past that part. I can rewind–”

“Nah,” he shrugs, “Let it play.”

You watch for a while in silence, but then start chatting again, swapping mundane questions. 

“So, Scott’s your dad, huh?” he asks, after a while.

“He sure is.”

“When he said he had a daughter, I guess I assumed someone younger.”

“Same skincare routine,” you deadpan.

He closes his eyes, holding back a laugh as he shakes his head. “Sorry, sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay,” you laugh, “Yeah, he was still pretty young when I was born.”

“And what about…” he trails off, suddenly realizing tact may be appreciated.

“Dad’s a widower,” you explain simply.

Logan nods. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

You sit in silence for a moment, watching as Lecter is revealed to be wearing the guard’s face.

“How about you?” you ask, “You got a wife? Husband? Girlfriend? Partner?--”

He turns to look at you and you peter off. “Nope.” 

There’s something in the way he’s looking at you. You’re not sure if he’s being suggestive, or if you’re reading into things. Maybe it’s just the reflecting light making his eyes look more provocative than he intends.

Either way, you feel your heartbeat surge and your stomach flip.

You turn away and try to affect nonchalance, try not to be suddenly mesmerized by this unexpected plot twist that is Logan. The movie is wrapping up, Clarice taking Lecter’s call as he pursues Chilton. You try to focus on it, the score, the costumes– but instead you notice the way he smells, musky and a little sweaty. It’s nice. A little dizzying.

“What about you?” you ask.

“Hmm?”

"You have any kids?" you ask, and immediately wonder if you waited too long to carry on the conversation.

"Shit," he snorts and shakes his head, "I hope not."

It takes you off guard. You burst out laughing.

He huffs, lifting the beer to his lips to hide a smile.

The credits begin to roll over the ending scene. 

With the bottle drained, he pats his thighs and stands up. "Alright, kid," he says, "I probably shouldn’t hide in here any longer.”

“My dad appreciates it,” you tell him, “Don’t wanna give him a heart attack when his guest of honor is nowhere to be found, soon to be discovered with his delinquent daughter.”

He picks up his empty and shakes his head, heading back outside. He calls back, “Oh, you’re trouble.”

Now that you’ve met him, you can’t get him out of your mind. 

When you see him again, a couple days later in daylight this time, you have to pick your jaw up off the ground. He’s taller than you realize, and he’s fucking built. And fuck, he’s handsome too. When he sees you, he waves a hand. “Hey Trouble,” he calls, “Keepin’ your nose clean?”

Weeks pass, and, much to your delight (and, admittedly, despair), your dad and Logan become close. 

Sundays become your favorite day. Sunday, you discover, is the day you can see Logan through your window, chopping a seemingly endless stack of firewood. 

One time, he catches you watching. To your utter shock, he winks at you. Knowing your eyes are on him, he lifts the hem of his beater to wipe his brow, and shoots you a shit-eating grin.

You had plans but that doesn’t matter now. All you can do is shove your hand into your panties and rub circles around your throbbing little clit until you cum with a muffled sigh, knowing he’s outside. Knowing there’s not more than a fence and a few feet between you.

Almost every night, his fire pit is alight and you see him reading, or strumming his guitar, or fucking whittling, serene in the smouldering glow, till the fire burns out and the night turns too cool to enjoy.

As the weeks pass, he’s at your house more and more. You wish your heart would stop doing flips whenever you see him on the sofa next to your dad, beer in hand, laughing at some story that’s being recounted.

He says hello to you each time he sees you, and always asks after you when you’re out.

“Oh, Logan says hi,” your dad will say over his morning toast, “Why does he call you Trouble? Tell me you haven’t been besmirching the Summers name?”

“Nah,” you grin, “Just the littlest besmirchment, at worst.”

His eyes narrow.

“C’mon, now, we want to-”

“Establish a good relationship!” you finish, grinning at the way he scowls.

“Smartass.”

“Hey, Trouble,” he’ll greet you, whenever you find him at your home.

“Hey neighbor.”

“You bein’ good?” he’ll ask.

“‘Course not,” you’ll wink, “Where’s the fun in that?”

You love that he calls you Trouble. That he has a name, just for you. It feels like it could almost be something, and so it’s almost enough. 

Before long, what you’d once feared was a one-sided attraction begins to morph into something different. 

It’s a Saturday, and you decide to wear a cute little dress. It’s a flowy thing that hugs all your curves in the very best way, hem barely falling past the curve of your ass.

Your dad just popped out for another six-pack, and you’re in the kitchen, making pasta salad. With your father gone, Logan isn’t subtle in the way he looks at you. You delight in how his eyes linger at the curve of your hip, the swell of your chest. It feels like a victory, the way he grits his jaw a little when you lean forward, cleavage on full display.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ wearing a naughty little dress like that?” Logan asks, scowling.

You raise an eyebrow and try not to let the way your heart starts to flutter affect you. “Thought you’d figured it out on day one – I’m trouble.”

He looks you up and down, his gaze lascivious. It’s the boldness of it. The two of you are alone, and you both know it.

“I think you like it,” you narrow your eyes.

He’s silent for a long moment. Then he lets out a deep breath. 

“God help me, I do.”

“Why don’t you do something about it?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but then you both hear the latch, and the front door swings open.

Logan sits back, pretending as though nothing just happened.

You turn back to your salad.

You can see Logan in the sitting room, right in your line of sight. Your dad sits across from him, his back towards you. 

If you’re honest, you’re not sure exactly what compels you. 

You turn to face Logan, wave for him to catch your eye. He does, quickly, immediately attuned to you. Your dad doesn’t notice the way his eyes follow you. You hold a finger to your lips. His eyes dart between you and your dad, and he tries to focus on whatever his friend is saying to him. 

Slowly, you slip one strap down, and then the other. You can hear Logan’s breath hitch, which he covers almost believably with a gulp of his beer. Shimmying the bodice just a little, you expose your cleavage to near-dangerous depths. He’s grinding his teeth now, and it feels like victory.

Quickly, silently, you slip your top all the way down, exposing your breasts to the cool kitchen air. Your nipples, already hard, tighten. Logan is holding his can so tightly he’s crushing it in his fist. 

“You okay, buddy?” you hear your dad say, and you can practically hear the frown in his voice. In a couple of quick movements, you slip your top back up and turn back to your salad.

“Huh?” Logan asks quickly, and then looks at his beer. “Oh, shit–!” he grumbles, relaxing his grip gingerly.

It’s not till an hour later that your dad stands up and announces, “I’ll be right back, gonna hit the head.”

When he’s gone, Logan bolts up and marches over to you.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” he demands.

You shrug and, not so subtly, glance down at his crotch. You smirk at the way the front is tenting. Logan stares daggers as he adjusts himself, better hiding his hard-on.

“Some of you seems to like it,” you point out.

“Out here? With him here? You want your daddy to kill me?”

“No,” you promise, “No, I just want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ you’re trouble–”

You both hear a toilet flush, and, moments later, footsteps descend on the stairs.

Logan adjusts himself again, and you blow him a kiss as he tromps back to his seat.

It’s a week before you see Logan again. He’s working late this week, apparently. Or maybe he’s just keeping his distance from you.

On Friday night, you debate going out. It’s been a while, and you could use a chance to unwind. But drinks are expensive, and– and you see a fire out your window. Logan sits out by his fire pit.

Without thinking, you put on your shoes.

It’s late, but not too late. Your dad’s on his recliner, game on TV, newspaper in hand.

“You headin’ out, kiddo?” he asks.

“Yep,” you lie, “Meeting a couple friends downtown. They’re picking me up!”

“Stay safe,” he calls after you, “Call me if you need a ride.”

“I will,” you tell him. “Don’t know if I’ll be home tonight. Don’t wait up for me!”

You head out of the house and through your neighbor’s gate. 

Logan is golden, illuminated in the glow of the flames. He’s whittling something, angrily.

You realize then that your entrance has been near-silent on the soft grass. “Uh,” you clear you throat and knock on his fence as you approach him. “Hey, there, neighbor!”

Logan looks up and frowns when he sees you.

“You are makin’ me crazy, Trouble.” he huffs.

“Like, in a good way?” you ask.

He glares at you.

You come closer. “Can I sit?”

Logan budges up, putting down his whittling tools.

“So…” you venture “Am I more trouble than I’m worth?”

Logan scoffs.

“Nah.” he concedes, “I just don’t wanna make things complicated.”

You shrug. “They’re already complicated. You’ve seen my tits.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Goddammit, Trouble. I can’t get you out of my head.”

“They’re great tits,” you shrug.

“They are great tits.” Logan agrees.

The fire is crackling and the night is clear, stars hanging above you. You've been sitting side by side, quiet.

You don’t know what to say. Maybe there isn't anything to say. You’ve been patient, dammit. You just need to leap.

You pull him towards you and he moves without resistance.

He growls into your mouth, a needy animal sound. The scruff of his beard feels nice against your chin and you’re dizzy with his proximity, with his lips on yours.

After an eternity in the space of a single moment, you pull apart.

Logan stares at you, overwhelmed. His eyes are dark, his kiss-glistened lips catching the light as the fire dances. 

He presses the pads of his fingertips against his lips in the aftermath, as though either trying to capture the feeling, or banish it from memory.

Then, after a long moment, he’s on you. His hands grip you, grasp you, trace the shape of your body as though memorizing it by touch alone. 

“Inside. Now.” he growls, “Out here you’re askin’ for your daddy to catch us.”

You’re barely through the door before Logan is tugging at your clothes. You help him pull your top above your head, and you fumble with the button of your jeans as he unhooks his belt and yanks off his beater.

In a matter of moments, you’re both fully bare. His skin is hot against yours as he holds you to him, caging you against the door as he drags his teeth along your shoulder. His hard cock hangs against your thigh, heavy and thick and leaking.

Your clothes trail from the front door to his sofa. You don’t make it any further than that.

You’re a ticking time bomb, a siren, pulling him in, driving him wild. He wants and wants and wants, more than he ever knew he could. So much could be ruined; his friendship with your dad, the scrap of reputation he’s been building, his new life in this new place—

But now his want has turned into a need, and feeling you soft and pliant and oh so willing against him, he’d be a fool to turn back now.

Logan’s gropes at you, fingernails digging into the swell of your ass before cupping your pussy in one large palm. Rubbing up and down your cunt, he smears your wetness around.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he gasps. “Prettiest pussy I’ve seen.” 

Then he dips a finger into you and you groan and clench around it. He fucks you with it, deep, gentle strokes. He wasn’t wrong. As he fucks you with his finger, you feel how unbelievably wet you are. When he pulls back for a moment, you can see his hand is glistening with you, drips going all the way to his wrist.

“I can take more,” you promise, and he growls. 

“Can’t say shit like that,” he pants, “You’re sure you can take more. Can you take me? Don’t wanna hurt–”

“I can take you,” you assure him. If you’re honest, you don’t know if you can. What you do know is that you’re sure as fuck gonna try.

“How do you want me?” he asks, fighting to maintain the last shreds of his self-control.

Ever the masochist, “Want you on top of me, my ankles round your shoulders. Need you deep.”

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

You lay back as he positions himself between your thighs. He presses a kiss to your left thigh before he hikes it over his right shoulder, and a kiss to your right calf, folding you in half.

He strokes the dripping head of his cock against your folds.

“You ready?” he asks, and you whine in desperation, nodding a yes.

He presses in, notching the tip inside. You groan at the sensation, relaxing into it as he rocks his hips gently.

“Doin’ so good,” he praises, “I know, baby, it’s a lot.”

You writhe and moan. It is a lot, but you still want more. More of his cock, of his hands on your body, of his praise.

“Taking it so well,” he soothes, letting his cock slide that little bit deeper inside, pulling most of the way out and driving back in, pressing whispers in your ear as he fucks into you.

When his pelvis is pressed flush against you, he lets out a sigh. 

“Look at that,” he huffs, “Takin’ all of me.”

You look down and watch enraptured as he pulls out and presses back in, deeper than you ever imagined, and rolls his hips, coarse hair grinding against your clit and making you howl.

”Keep making those pretty noises for me, honey.”

”Need more-“ you beg.

He starts rocking his hips, building a solid rhythm. His strokes are deep and devastating, and with every thrust you can feel your wetness start to flood down your thighs and cream around the base of his cock.

The wetter you get, the harder he fucks into you, each plunge punctuated with your cries, of “Yes!”, “More—“, “Please, Logan, please—“

Generous to a fault, he gives you everything you beg for.

The frustration of these longing, pent-up weeks is almost a forgotten memory. As you build towards the peak of your pleasure, the man above you is an animal. He grunts and pants and fucks you deeper than you knew possible. Your whines and cries and demands taper off, replaced by soft moans that start to swell as he litters your collarbone with kisses and rubs a calloused thumb against your clit.

”I’m—“ you warn, struggling to form words, “I’m gonna—“

 “‘M close too,” he grunts, “Give it to me, baby, need to feel you— Please, baby—“

With his words and a firm press to your clit, you come with a sob, cunt squeezing around him in pulsing contractions.

He fucks you through it, muttering a steady stream of filth the whole time. “That’s it, that’s it, fuck you’re gushing, soaking this cock. You feel so fucking good, tight little thing stretched so nice around me, taking it all like you’re made for it—”

Before you can even get over the first climax, the second starts to build. Logan can feel the way your pussy twitches for him, the way your breath shudders as he drives into you with staggering thrusts.

”Gonna cum again, aren’t you?” He growls. “Good-“ a thrust, “fucking—“, thrust, “girl—“ thrust, “Just can’t get enough of this cock, can you?”

You try to answer, but all that comes out is a cry as another orgasm overtakes you.

"That’s it,” the praises, still punctuating every word with a thrust, “That’s it! Let yourself feel it, let yourself feel good—"

You do, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. It’s overwhelming, the way it tears through you with no end in sight.

When he finally pulls out of you, you start to come back to yourself, your life-changing orgasm starting to wane.

He’s beautiful above you, covered in sweat, your wetness dripping down his thighs as he strokes his creamy cock.

With a groan, he comes on your stomach. You wrap your hand around his, stroking him gently till every drop is spent.

You make room for him on the sofa, uncaring that both of you are covered in sweat and fluids, and pull him down to rest in your arms.

"Fuck—" he exhales, and finally turns to face you again.

You stroke your fingers through your mussed hair.

"I knew you were trouble,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your sternum.

There are so many things you’ll need to talk about, to work through. You are neighbors, after all, and you can’t do something like this without there being an aftermath.

But whatever is next can wait till morning.

Gently, he pulls himself up, and you with him. Holding each other close, you head to his bedroom. Without a word, you lay together, curled up in one another’s embrace.

He’s silent a long moment before speaking. "Is your daddy expecting you home tonight?” He asks. Neither of you want to think about that.

But thankfully, “No,” you tell him. “Told him not to wait up.”

"Oh, optimistic, were we?” He teases, and you look him up and down. His broad shoulders, sculpted chest, dark eyes, rumpled hair. This man you’ve grown so very fond of. 

“Yes,” you smile. “Yes, we are.”

Scott finds out, like, a day later and declares Logan his sworn enemy

[pshcomforts]

➳ broken love | psh.

dad!sunghoon x mom!femreader

“every time i think of you, it’s just killing me”

synopsis: you and sunghoon still see each other whenever your guys’ daughter, seo-ji, is dropped off to one another — and it’s obvious you two still love each other, even after the divorce papers were finalized.

warnings/content: written in third pov. angsty fluff(?) — mostly angst. kind of aged up(?). not proofread. cursing (i think). unresolved tension. mentions of pregnancy. reader used to hate kids (lmao).

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.4k

a/n: part two — ₊˚ʚ try again ɞ˚₊

fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend).

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: broken love by gemini

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:48 ───|──────────────── 2:04

y/n’s heart was heavy with the burden of being at his doorstep.

“you got this,” she mumbled to herself, knocking the door with shaky hands.

a happy scream of a child was made, one that she knew at heart. her face lit up at the instant yell, already recognizing that it was no other than her adorable daughter, seo-ji.

“mommy’s here! mommy’s here!” the little kid screamed at the other end.

little shakes of the doorknob were heard before it opened to who she expected; her daughter and of course, her ex-husband, park sunghoon.

she felt her heart slightly shatter at the sight of him, anxiety taking over inch by inch.

“hey y/n,” he awkwardly said. her head nodded in response — “hey sunghoon.”

there was quick tension between them, both truthfully not knowing what to say after coming to terms of the divorce.

they still loved each other, longed for each other in fact.

“mommy!” their baby girl intruded, arms opening wide at the sight of her caretaker.

y/n’s face instantly lit up at her little girl, embracing the sweet hug she offered. “hey princess, how was your day with daddy?” she exclaimed with kisses around her daughter’s cheeks.

seo-ji giggled at the act with an utter — “mommy, stop!!”

the mom smiled at her, noticing her light dimples on display inherited from her father.

“it was good! daddy couldn’t stop talking about you and him though!!”

her sudden callout made y/n look at her ex-husband, finding him in a small blushing state.

“aish seo-ji, you said my secret was safe with you!!” he quickly exclaimed to avert her gaze, hands immediately finding their way to his daughter — tickling her all around.

y/n’s eyes softened at the sight, lips automatically upturning to a sweet smile. she missed this, the feeling of being a happy family.

when the giggles from seo-ji soon drowned out, she ran to go get her stuff from the apartment, leaving the two divorcees alone with each other.

they both quickly became awkward and tense like earlier. their hesitant glances towards one another were evidence that their relationship was on good terms only for their daughter, and perhaps more.

but for the time being, everything and anything was uncomfortable between them.

“so.. heard from jake that you have a date tonight?” y/n suddenly blurted, trying to break the ice.

the male’s head shot up. “hm? oh yeah..,” he paused — “sunoo just set it up for me, and practically begged me to go so…,” his voice weakened at the end with an awkward chuckle spurted out.

she nodded at his reasoning in return— “that’s good..,” she slightly trailed off at the end.

“and you?” he squeaked.

y/n gave a small laugh with a shake on her head. “oh no.. my life revolves around our little girl now. she will always have my full attention.” her eyes shifted from sunghoon to her daughter in the background, hearing the rushed talks from seo-ji as she tried to swiftly gather her belongings.

“she’s my life,” she murmured with a smile she didn’t know she had.

as her gaze stayed on their little girl, sunghoon kept his on her. his eyes sparkled with love that he still had for her — love that had never been resolved.

he missed her and her warmth. just everything about her, really.

but the divorce between them was still fresh, giving them fresh wounds to heal from — wounds that had been cut open from their constant fights and arguments.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ — flashback

“sunghoon, please.” y/n sighed in a groggy expression.

“i’m tired too, can’t you see that? you can’t be the only one acting tired here.” he reverted back with a slight eye roll.

“i’ve been watching her all day, you were barely home.”

“you think i’d rather be out, doing work?” he spat. “i’d much rather stay home with our little girl, but does it look like i have a choice? i’m trying to provide for us.”

the girl groaned. “i’m trying to let seo-ji have a good life, you think that she can do that with only me?”

sunghoon clicked his tongue in annoyance as he slightly walked away. his hands were firmly on his hips as he uttered, “did you not just hear me? i want the best for my daughter too, i want to be there too. you’re the one who gets to be with her, i don’t.”

she sighed at his words, heart breaking down each time she let it ring in her ears. she was glad her baby was staying with min-su and her partner, heeseung for the night. the couple came to pick her up towards the end of the day, giving her and sunghoon a moment to say things.

and with their raised voices and constant arguing, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for them. otherwise, it would’ve woken her sweet girl.

“sunghoon..,”

she watched him roll his watery eyes. “what?” he croaked in a weakened tone, voice cracking with every strength he had to hold back his breakdown.

she didn’t continue, letting his eyes meet hers so they could speak their worries through the dreaded gaze.

“this isn’t working..,”

he sighed at the painful truth. “i know… it’s not.”

the two were sat a few feet away from each other as they came to terms of their situation. constant miscommunication and bottled feelings drifted their relationship apart.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“okay, mommy, ready!” seo-ji yelled, quickly clasping onto her mom’s hands. “bye daddy!”

y/n formed a half smile towards her old lover. “let me know when you’ll pick her up,” she mumbled.

sunghoon gave soft kisses towards his daughter before the two walked away — giving him memories of when he’d kiss his used-to-be girl goodbye whenever she left anywhere.

a faint sigh left his throat as he stumbled back into his apartment.

“i should get ready..,” he said to himself, walking away to his planned outfit.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“hey baby, what are you doing?” ji-woo sweetly uttered to her friend’s daughter.

“i’m trying to draw you, auntie ji-woo!” seo-ji yelled back.

a few giggles went around as min-su uttered, “ooh! me next!”

“okay! wait! i’m almost done!”

y/n’s little girl beamed an eye smile, causing ji-woo to say — “she has your eyes.”

“yeah, but she has her dad’s cute smile.” y/n responded, letting her gaze linger on seo-ji’s adorned features.

“so.. you heard about sunghoon right?” dae mumbled with a lip bite.

she quickly glanced at jungwon’s boyfriend before looking back at her daughter, who peered her head up at her dad’s name.

“daddy?” seo-ji whispered.

y/n smiled and nodded. “mhm, daddy’s going out with a friend tonight, that’s why you’re with me!” she gave a soft ruffle to her little girl’s wavy hair — inherited from her mom, of course.

“how long will he be gone? i miss him.”

“you miss him? but i’m with you! how could you miss him when mommy is right here?” y/n pouted, hiding her grin.

“your mommy’s sad now, seo-ji! what are you gonna do!” yelled min-su with a slight gasp.

“oh no!” dae beamed.

“noo! i’m sorry!” seo-ji quickly exclaimed, jumping on her feet to comfort her mom. “help me, auntie min-su and uncle dae! ..mommy??” she poked her mom’s arm.

y/n peeked down at her and found her bulged, puppy eyes melting her heart instantly.

“i’m sorry! i like you just as much as i like daddy!”

“like? you don’t.. love?” the mom teased with a plastered grin.

“oh my gosh, your daughter’s trying to apologize to you!” dae chimed in, playfully scoffing.

y/n huffed out mounds of laughter in her stomach before forgiving her empathetic daughter. she tucked a few hair strands behind her ears, placing soft kisses on her forehead while murmuring, “i forgive you, seo-ji. are you hungry?”

the little girl furiously nodded her head as min-su uttered — “me too!” — followed by ji-woo and dae to chime in as well, causing y/n to laugh with a healing heart.

her daughter and her friends were all she needed.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

seo-ji remained in the dining room area, eating with rolled up sleeves and a tied hair done by her mom.

y/n and her three friends were near but stayed closer to the living room, carefully hearing for the little girl just in case something happened.

“she eats just like you,” min-su said with a slight snort.

her words caused a wide chuckle to erupt out of her friend. “seo-ji’s been with me a lot so i wouldn’t be surprised if she ate just like me.” y/n murmured back with her eyes staring at her daughter.

“are you really okay with the whole sunghoon thing though?”

she glanced at ji-woo who said it, but only nodded.

“nothing much i can do about it, he’s moving on.”

her heart tore a little, ripping open another wound in her chest that was barely healing. she didn’t like how every sentence she spewed left a bitter taste in her mouth, but what else could she do?

“i’m really sorry for how things turned out..,” one of her friends sympathetically said to her.

“it’s okay.. my little girl is all i need.” she murmured, glancing at seo-ji who was just about done.

“mommy! i’m done!”

just as y/n was about to get up, ji-woo stood first.

“don’t worry girl, i’ll get her.”

before the mom could protest, her friend had already rushed to seo-ji. a small smile formed on her face, feeling grateful for all three.

“come on, seo-ji, let’s wash your hands!”

“auntie ji-woo, where’s uncle jake? he’s always here.”

the two walked away to the bathroom, giving ji-woo the chance to give her reasoning that no uncles except dae would join for tonight.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few hours in, and seo-ji was wrapped in y/n’s arms now.

the little girl was settling into her nap time, eyes closing in an instant with the comforting warmth her mom radiated.

y/n continued to tuck a few wavy hair strands away from her daughter’s face, gaze fixated on every gorgeous feature she inherited from her and sunghoon combined.

“i never thought i’d actually see you become a mom.” ji-woo confirmed with a proud smile.

“we’re proud of you,” dae added in.

“you used to always hate kids, but now here you are, having one of your own in your arms.” min-su softly uttered, careful to not wake her niece.

everyone’s eyes gathered on the little girl who was softly snoring in her sleep.

y/n’s eyes were softened the most.

she did, in fact, hate kids, but she loved and cherished her daughter — her daughter, who she never imagined to have.

“it feels like we’ve seen you grown up,” ji-woo continued her sad talk. “remember when you always told us that you and sunghoon would be the last to have kids out of all of us?”

the four broke out into laughter as they thought back to their years of being in college.

“yeah..,” y/n’s heart sank as she remembered how good her and sunghoon used to be. “we were so sure of ourselves that we’d have kids after you all had yours too. we were so bad with handling kids before we had our little girl.”

she smiled back at the memory before hearing dae intrude — “now look at you, you were the first to have a kid.”

“me and heeseung next,” min-su prompted, causing hushed laughter to fill the air.

y/n beamed a wide grin afterwards, standing up to settle her baby down in the bedroom.

after doing it with ease, she walked back out and found dae specifically sitting where she had told sunghoon she was pregnant.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ — flashback

“gorgeous, what happened??” sunghoon bursted out the door, heavy breaths of air leaving his lungs.

he clenched onto his chest with his eyes sewed shut, desperately gasping for oxygen as his girlfriend stayed sitting on the couch in silence.

“y/n? you okay?” he said in a softer tone. “what’s wrong?”

“sunghoon..,” she whimpered.

her head turned to meet his gaze, and almost immediately, her reddened eyes that were puffed from her tears worried the poor boy.

“hey, hey, why are you crying?” he attempted to comfort, arms immediately bringing her into his embrace.

“hoonie…,” she quietly called again.

sunghoon pulled away with a comforting hand placed on her cheek.

“what’s wrong, pretty?”

“i’m..,” y/n sighed with a heavy heart, feeling a lump in her throat as she uttered, “i’m pregnant.”

the male paused every muscle movement in his body. “w..what? you’re what?” he said in denial.

“i’m pregnant,” she repeated, fingers fidgeting around little picks of skin.

it now added up for sunghoon — all of why she was suddenly moody, why her period was delayed, why she kept talking about feeling sick — the girl he loved was pregnant.

a gasp of air left him as he grinned ear to ear, heart feeling full with the thought of a baby on the way.

“you’re pregnant,” he reiterated with an upbeat tone. “you’re really pregnant.” he quickly stood on his feet before yelping in joy. tears were quick to fill his eyes as he felt like someone who had just won the lottery.

as her boyfriend continued to celebrate, y/n stayed sitting, chewing on her lips in fear.

“sunghoon.. please sit..,”

the boy quickly obliged, though his excitement still seeped through him in every way possible.

slowly, her eyes trailed up to meet his. and almost instantly, her heart fluttered at how handsome he looked — but it shattered within seconds of the news she was gonna deliver to him.

“i don’t know if i want this…,” she cracked out.

“o..oh…,” hoon blinked with a dry throat. “you don’t want to keep the baby?”

y/n quickly shook her head, tears already filling her eyes for the worst outcome.

but his hands placed itself on hers, letting his fingers cling around to reassure while he continued — “it’s your decision, gorgeous, i won’t force you.”

she shot her head up at him, and sunghoon only pushed his lips together to form a confirming smile.

“having a baby with you is what i want, but just not right now. we’re too young, and we’re both barely starting life and-“

her constant blabbering was shut up by a quick peck on the lips from her boyfriend. “we are young, y/n, but this decision is entirely up to you. i want this with you, and i want to be a dad but if you decide that you don’t want to yet, then that’s okay.”

sunghoon’s thumb rubbed little strokes on her crying cheeks as he spoke with his caring eyes.

he wanted the baby, but he wanted y/n more.

“can i think about this first?” she uttered with sparkling eyes.

his thick brows knitted together to convey how she could even question a thing like that. “of course you can, pretty girl. think about it, and let me know.”

the boy placed a sweet and comforting kiss on his girl’s forehead before pulling her into a hug.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

what broke y/n’s heart the most was how the stress of raising a child never bothered to pop into their head until later — when the continuous struggles got to the soon-married couple.

all they wanted was to be a family, and all they wanted was to have their daughter have loving parents who were in a loving relationship.

and of course they had their moments of joy when everything felt perfect for a while.

like when sunghoon would sleep closely next to seo-ji when she was an infant after watching her all day, and his body would be facing toward his baby girl. then y/n would come home, find them softly snoring, and laugh silently to herself when catching onto her baby’s wavy hair contrasting with hoon’s messy hair that fell to the front of his face.

or when seo-ji would wake up in some mornings with a sudden, personal preference on which parent she wanted — it mainly being y/n. and their little girl would cling onto her, making sunghoon pout in return of how his daughter had most of his features but would much rather be with her mom. little complaints would leave his mouth, but he secretly loved to see his small family together.

or, when seo-ji was still one, and sunghoon remained persistent in going ice skating so the three went to an ice rink. their baby would be dressed in warm clothing with mini earmuffs and gloves wrapped around her hands. and hoon would carefully glide the little girl around, letting her get used to the constant slippery surface while y/n personally sat the ice skating out and recorded instead.

or even, when they’d go to gatherings planned by their friends and everyone would instantly go to seo-ji, leaving the exhausted parents to intertwine their hands and watch how much their friends adored their child. little murmurs of — “us next?” would constantly be heard all around while uncle jay would try and snatch her away from everyone else.

nothing could beat those fond memories that were shared upon sunghoon, y/n, and their special little girl, seo-ji.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a sigh left y/n as she walked to her ex-husband’s apartment. days had gone by since she was last here to pick her daughter up, and now she’s dropping her off once again.

“be good okay? i know daddy probably misses you a lot,” she muttered, hands moving her daughter’s strands of hair.

“mhm! i will!”

a few knocks on the door were made before it creaked open to the handsome man, sunghoon.

“daddy!” seo-ji yelled, quickly detangling her hands from her mom’s to jump into hoon’s arms.

“seo-ji! how’s my little girl?” he left constant kisses around her cheeks, causing little laughter to burst out of her.

y/n beamed a smile at the sight in front of her. she knew they weren’t a family anymore, but it was somewhat healing to know that they could still share loving moments like this.

she heard her old partner yell out in joy, laughing with their daughter and giving wide grins that still secretly lit up her heart.

she still loved him.

“alright, i’m gonna take off, but be good, seo-ji. i’ll come pick you up some time soon, okay?” y/n mumbled.

her baby girl stood with a pout. “you’re leaving already?” she frowned. “you can’t! i don’t want you to! just stay a little longer in daddy’s house.”

y/n immediately chuckled at her daughter’s words. “i have to go, i have to meet auntie ji-woo and them soon.”

seo-ji’s eyes were quickly filled with tears as her bottom lip puffed out. “please mommy..,”

the mom’s heart shattered at her words but she only sighed.

“i’m sorry baby, i’ll come soon though okay?”

her daughter sighed as well before giving a tight hug around her mom.

sunghoon watched his two girls with soft eyes, heart slightly melting at this cherishing memory.

he loved the little things like this when they were still together.

and the one thing that always made him fall in love with y/n even more was how she always mentioned her hatred for kids, but when their daughter came into their life, she immediately loved her with no resentment.

everything about y/n was his weakness and it still showed because —

he still loved her.

“i’ll miss you,” seo-ji muffled through her sobs.

“i’ll miss you too, seo-ji.” y/n pulled away, wiping the tears from her sweet girl as she placed a soft kiss on her cheeks. “have fun with dad though, he misses you a lot too.”

she glanced up to hoon with a half smile. “okay i have to go because if i’m any later, uncle dae will be scolding me! here’s her backpack.”

the girl raised the bag and allowed sunghoon to take it, letting his fingers softly graze against hers.

there was a flicker — a spark, almost, at their little touch.

something was obviously still alive between the two when they glanced up at each other, eyes quickly shifting back and forth with their unresolved tension.

a linger was made present in the air, both not wanting to break the locked gaze but needing to anyway.

y/n walked away after saying one last goodbye to her daughter, feeling heavily burdened at the weighed pressure in her heart; while sunghoon closed the door behind him, mind and heart painfully filled with the memory of his ex-wife, and the mere thought of how much he loved her.

they knew they couldn’t though.

they shouldn’t, for the sake of their daughter, seo-ji.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

a/n: i just wanted to say as well, that i see the requested oneshots in my inbox, and i will try my best to write them! but it may take me a while, so please be patient with me <3 also someone tell me if this oneshot came out okay bc i wrote this at 3am with tired eyes..

[anantaru]

THE PRICE IN MYSTERIES CONCEALED

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — who was the man you fell in love with? why did it seem like he was hiding his true self away from you, and why, at last, was he hesitant to deepen the connection in your new relationship?

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 3.4k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, first time intimate, playing with your tits (tit lover neuvillette), unprotected, he has marks on his chest, loads of cum lmao, virgin! neuvillette but skilled, quick learner, established relationship, size kink (dragon cock giggles), sweet sweet neuvillette he's the sweetest man

there are no two ways to go on about it, but you can clearly hear the words neuvillette doesn’t say to you, you can see it in the light of his eyes. hidden verses evaporating in slow heaves, how rain puddles disappear on a hot day, when he ultimately decides against reciting his longings out loud to you.

instead, he imagined it in his hankering memories, how you'd feel under him, topless, bare and exposed, how it would feel when he was luxuriating in your velvet walls of your entrance and the vivid heat that would envelope him every time he sinks his cock all the way inside.

nonetheless, it's futile, he couldn't do it, he won't make the first step, but he knows, he could swear on it, that there was nothing warmer nor more welcoming then being inside of you.

in such predicament, neuvillette doesn’t know what to do nor on how to get rid of those improper fantasies circulating in his psyche, because, as it happened, he felt disgusted in himself to even daydream in such manners, about his significant other— someone he regarded as infinitely perfect beyond the limits of his own imagination.

besides, he's never done this before, again, he’s fucked his hand while thinking about you, feverish pants and hot breathes exposing him behind closed doors, most of the times it's uncoordinated and without knowing how to bring himself to a nice, proper climax.

neuvillette could never stop his digits from traveling down south before rutting into his hand so fucking desperate, with a heartfelt heat plummeting on top of his body, shudders when he drags over the slit of his cockhead, brows furrowed, pale skin battered in champagne rose, wishing it was your soft, warm cunt he'd be fucking into instead.

and it's not like you denied yourself to him, because there certainly were enough moments in the past where he was presented with the opportunity of advancing it forward, magnifying your new, fresh relationship— souls nurturing in the most sacred, wonderful way, while right before it could be turning into that direction, his eyes would suddenly be unable to hold yours any longer and his worry kicks in right afterwards.

then, as it happens so often, he could feel his embarrassment bottle up when he pushes himself away from you, leaving you behind, yet— remember, he doesn't lie upfront to you, he'd never defy your trust nor succumb to altering the truth, which made it even more awkward to begin with.

to be transparent, gone were the days where he wouldn't have to deal with the enriched pressure and heaviness in his groin, new, unlocked desires that if he were to ignore them, or at least try, only would bounce back with a more intense power, until he was painfully hard all day, not knowing on how to get rid of it once and for all.

to counterbalance, you eagerly note and remember the words he did speak out to you, and despite the veiled meanings behind it all, sheltered below a smokescreen of mysteries, it's there.

furthermore, it was perceivable in the doubled seemings, and despite that, the mysterious man seldomly exchanged words of affirmations, protecting the hidden truth that had been stored in his heart for decades on end.

the man rather spoke in the elusiveness of his delicate glances, and in his imperceptible touch, because there was a primordial light inside the action of his trails. from first principles, he never sought out any of this, because the way he saw it was that unclouded emotions for another individual are best left unrevealed in life. all that mattered, in the end, was what the brain spoke out to yourself, because strict rules must be followed.

but if any moment in time anchored his very soul, created a strong tether to this plane of reality he found himself bound by, it was the moment he fell in love with you.

neuvillette never let you touch him more, currently, he only kisses you smoothly, plants wet, open mouthed pecks along your collarbones before lapping his tongue up, sharp teeth slowly grazing over the soaked skin. it's as if he was scared of unspoken consequences if he were to move this forward, or of the sudden possibility to hurt you.

humans were fragile, he said, like a vase falling on the ground, broken into a million pieces and unable to be fixed again.

presently, your hands find his hair, and the bed dips as you shuffle your frame into him, smothering the small distance of your bodies, laying your warm hand against his clothed chest, just above the little jeweled medallion he always seems to wear. he gulps out strongly when you lock your digits into his form-fitting garments, just to pull him closer to your body as you open his mouth with your tongue, lapping over his wet muscle before pulling away with a pop.

"feel me." you say intimately, guiding his trembling hand over your chest, and awaiting his reactions, testing the waters, while his luminous eyes watch you contently as you pause, his touch reaching your covered breasts, and neuvillette draws his fingers into the concealed mounds, his lips parting for a low grumble, eyes opening wide as it got hard.

"feel how my body reacts when you touch me," you speak in a hitching voice, whining when he pulls at the erected nipple, whilst the fabric of your shirt turned his traces all the more roughened, intense with the garment rubbing against your sensitive tits, "feel how i love you." 

neuvillette sucks in a breath, crossing his tongue over his bottom lip, "i do not want to hurt you." he whispers, his cock growing hard and heavy squished against your core when he unintentionally grinds down a little, both moaning against each other, his breath hot, his noises hanging across the walls of the room. it's without a doubt that this time it's different from prior instances where he was, although with enough discipline, able to remove himself from you, faster and without making a complete idiot of himself.

now, neuvillette was unable to keep his own hips to a complete stand still, he moves them, softly grinds against your clothed cunt before fisting the pillow right next to your head, knuckles turning white at the sheer intensity and power he was graced with, chasing more of the incomparable relief that you are so preciously giving him.

you whine, a noise all winded and hot when you wrap your legs around his hips, "you won't hurt me." you murmur, catching his face with your palms so he could rest in them, "because i trust you."

he believes that maybe you miss it too, desire it, the pleasure that was unlike others, perhaps it had been lacking in every aspect of your relationship which neither of you expected to have in the first place.

and you're ravishing, he can't say if often enough, believing that you were made for living once, because you were one of a kind, made of mesmerizing lights and clear, pure water and a soothing birdsong, sprouting flowers and the finest silk in teyvat.

... unlike him.

neuvillette groans into your lips when you lick across his mouth, leaving his infectious tunes stretch the need in his rough voice, stretching it out long and slow enough until it sounds like a clear beg to fuck you, or at least continue with this.

but besides that, you cannot look into his mind, blinking up at his reddened face that was towering on top of you, "do you want me to stop?" you breathe out, smoothly circling your thumb over his bristling cheek, stilling your hips and attempting to close your legs when he wishes you would just kiss him again.

"no.." he replies almost a little too fast, as if he was ready to beg for it, and his cheeks catch on the color of scarlet red rather quickly, his hands scattering down to your hips to keep you from concealing your movements away from him, fuck, it just feels so fucking good he cannot believe himself.

"i apologize.." his face crumbles with the vulnerability in it, exhaling from his parted lips, "i've never—"

"that's okay." you mouth a spot on his neck, reaching his earlobe, "but i want to hear you." you tip your head forward and give a twist of tongue into his lips, skillfully arching your hips to rub over his erected groin yourself— teeth colliding against each other bound by a crushing sensation that was growing each second.

with a muffled, breathless laugh giving way to a soft whine when he adds more strength to his thrust, you longed to let him know how you felt— yes, right there, you say when he at last, slips his fingers into your shirt to touch your bare breasts, just like that, do it more.

you aid neuvillette in unclothing you as his body flexes under your hands, shivering when your eyes lift to meet his glowing ones, and there’s a moment— you can never forget it, crystalline and trembling on the edge of a leaf, that you could tell that he has been buried inside of his own mind but instead of going back to suppressing his desires, as he did countless of instances before, he answers now, without words— and oh, he gets bolder, the faint, needy whines that crawled into your ears made you rock into him, his digits slipping over your skin and circling on top of your nipples.

the prickles and vibrations in your veins and in your bones multiply and the temperature in your room changes into humidity— your craving body lightening up and threatening to float away by his ever so subtle, sweet traces and rounds on your tits, getting himself to work while you're anchored here only, all eyes on him, under him, by the rhythm of his fingers.

"take your clothes off for me." you say, pinching the hem of one leg and giving it a gentle tug. neuvillette hums in agreement, nodding right after, tongueing at the roof of his mouth in nervousness, because everyone could clearly see that he was tense, yet his cock was turning harder under your attention, he feels like it's going to explode if he doesn't do anything about it now.

he drops all the way back, body lifting off the bed as he slides his high-priced pants down yet not before opening his belt one handed, the "click" of the metal making you tremble, followed by the rest of his clothes which you aided him on, reaching down to drag down your soaked panties as well.

his cock bounces as he kicks the fabric away, and by the time he’s back up on both elbows towering above you, the fullness of it rests long and heavy against the crease of your thigh. His long, slender fingers giving it a slow tug as you watch, entranced by its size and shape— he was way above average, not even that would do it justice, coated with a bunch of small yet thick veins that reached all the way up, hard and aching, right under his cock head that had been desperately glistening with his pre cum.

time slows, stops, holds entirely; he dares to glance down, looking at your drenched pussy and how your hole fluttered around air, shimmering with your slick.

and you wrap yourself around him, arms out so he could lean into you. you know he's sharpening his senses to catch your reactions, adjusting his rubs on your tits when he notes a particular place being a little more sensitive and how you moan out when he touches it.

everything hits all at once, and he cannot get enough, both of you cannot.

for the first time, he experienced actually being free from his shackles and neuvillette needed your affirmations that it was in fact okay, you wanted to continue, because he never kept his eyes off you, always watching you closely through hungry eyes— for all that could happen, despite him continuing to be content with you.

the man was intoxicating, he was handsome from the depth of his ocean eyes to the gentle, sweet expressions of his voice when he whispers sweet nothing into your ears. neuvillette was beautiful, as if carved by literal gods, his chest defined, blue'ish traces, reminding you of tattoos, outlining the sides of his torso— but they weren't tattoos, they appeared to be a part of him since birth, how beauty marks are visible on some bodies, his were larger and resembling the kindest, most soothing waves.

neuvillette kisses down on your collarbone and you gasp out when he suddenly moves a little lower to take a nipple into his warm mouth, shudder when he crosses his tongue over it for the first time, it feels warm and wonderful with his complete weight on top of you.

and you can feel his hand, the rhythm of it on your other breast as it’s wrapped around the solid heat of your bud, continuing to palm your tits when his warm breath fans across your skin.

in this room, the man experienced so many different emotions now, but he feels more alive, within seconds, more awake, more present, and he doesn’t try to talk nor voice too much in the beginning, he just wanted to listen to the pace of your breathing, your whines and what your moans did to him.

he was waiting for your heaves to even out, align in soft decrease whilst he certainly doesn't realize that if he were to continue to hump your bare, thudding pussy the way he did, in accessory to playing with your tits and lapping his tongue across as if famished, there was no way for your heart rate to ever go back in an even pace.

regardless, neuvillette alters his breathing to match your own, his heaves on your wet skin, breathless, hot, when you begin to move your hips up a little, his cock nudging on your hole but never sliding in, his tip alone seemed to be big in it's own right and you wondered if you could even fit him in you.

of course, you were plenty wet, he made sure of that, always so kind and gifting.

your entire face buzzes with pins and needles when he draws himself back from your tits and your hand travels down to catch his girth in your warm palms, fisting him a little and spreading his pre over his drumming girth, grinning when he hooks his hands to your hips, pulling you straight down so his cock would be perfectly situated and ready to feel you, for real this time.

"tell me.." he mutters, "if you want to stop." and you kiss his lips featherlight, "of course, don’t worry about it." and nodding when you drag him across your folds to collect enough slick before slowly, agonizingly slow, push his tip inside.

your eyes flare wide and you arch your back instantly, no thoughts, no judgements, only your breathing getting cut short by the sudden piercing thrust burying inside your tight hole with a stretch that's more shock than anything else, and you hide yourself in his chest when you whimper into his ears, "slower, please". he understands and the restraints in his chest loosen as he wraps his arms across your body, as if protecting you in a sense.

neuvillette shuffles his knees wide and splits your legs further apart, holding you how he wants you, how he thinks will hurt less and even out the burning split on your cunt— he proceeds and fucks into you slowly, inch by inch, waiting a little, before adding another.

you ease up into him eventually, your walls getting used to his girth, the slap of his body against you quiet yet precise, his hips pumping in a slow, rhythmic roll that grinds the low of his stomach against your clit, spotting the prickling point on your cunt. you're turning hazy at the fullness, dipping your fingers into his long hair before pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, lapping across him in slow twists, pinching your hips up to meet his blows.

now, all you could do was to relish in his warmth, curve your back like a bow and let the most desirable, filthiest moans spill from your pretty, pursed lips. neuvillette was quick to catch and watch you, swallowing down every gritty moan and whine that you offered him, because of him, he couldn't fathom that he was the reason you felt that good, passing his cock back into you, in, out, in, out, humming in appreciation between sucking kisses that leave a pinching trail from your neck to your tits that he ever so graciously played with.

neuvillette got a pretty good first impression of it now, and he doesn’t slow, while, his thrusts become faster and more, greedy, not until he unthreads an arm from the mounds of your breasts and caresses the length of your body— slowed and appreciative, sliding his hand over your stomach and up, reaching to your shoulder before hooking his fingers on it— thrusts now faster as he drags you into him, harder, and your tits bounce back and forth with each jolt of his large cock splashing into your hole.

of course he blushes when you tighten your muscles, clenching down on his girth and milking him preciously, it was a dead give-away that he wouldn't last long when he releases a long, lagged moan of your name. like his warm, wet kisses, the drags and fondles of his traces left a wake rippling along your entire skin, a sensory memory, never overridden by anything else.

the coil in your stomach builds up quickly, nerves lighting up when his tongue flicks out to tease the sensitive point of your neck and jawline, body sizzling as if electro infused as pleasure jolts down your flesh until reaching your cunt.

"make me cum," you cry, "i need you!"

"—you have me."

throat tight, body tighter, your hands quick to push him from your neck to your mouth, lips pressing together as you arch and jolt off the bed, up and down, his cock faster than before as the wet, filthy smacking sounds almost overrode your noises. you squeeze around him, hungrily, strongly, suckling in his cock with your thudding hole as his hand on your shoulder clasps behind your neck, pushing you so far up against his glossy lips that you exchanged breathes and whines, throaty groan and cries.

you turn your arms around his chest to strengthen the touch, throat bobbing, mouth dry. there’s no space for anything left and when he pushes himself in you completely, cock disappearing in your used hole, your eyes roll into the back of your head and you shake viciously, climaxing around him, making a mess of yourself, when the bubble in his stomach popped instantly whilst seeing you become free, your liquids drawing a white ring around his girth— neuvillette couldn't go on about it any longer, not when you gnaw down on him so fucking desperate, so loved and fulfilled.

he cums hard, and a lot, and he tenses up, a thrill running over his flesh as his brows furrow, releasing his warm whites with shallow thrusts into your pussy before tucking your body tight to his front and pulls you even more tightly against him, messing you up with his seed. he has been so touch-starved that he can feel drizzling tears form and connect under his lashes in tune with his own orgasm taking him hostage.

his expression softens afterwards, looking like a heavy burden has been lifted off his shoulders, and he dips his head forward, foreheads resting. it's quiet for a while, well, if it weren't for your loud breathes and the clear exhaustion quelling on your facial expressions. the both of you are puffing and blowing out air, finding comfort in the silence when a torrid heat of swirls casts on your bodies, the atmosphere in the room on-fire and fiery.

you decide to kiss his lips, when you finally smirk up at him, eyes aglow, and his own lips are pulled up into an ethereal, handsome smile, his demeanor cascading with an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness and love.

real love.

"i craved you." he whispers, "and i desire you." and kisses your lips one more time.

alas, neuvillette came to terms with himself, knowing that there would never be anything, nothing, that could ever beat the feeling of this.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[achilles-rage]

All Yours

summary: you go to a frat party with your longtime boyfriend buck, but when you see a girl flirting with him, you get jealous. you leave early, and buck begs to make it up to you.

word count: 3.4k

request: anon- down bad kinda sub(?) frat boy evan buckley. like, established relationship, they've been together since high school; but someone was flirting with buck and reader saw it so she takes him back to her apartment and he like gets down to his knees and like begs with his eyes to please her or whatever :) and feel free to take this in your own direction!! this is just an idea :)

a/n: dear god, whoever requested this i'm gonna kiss you on the lips. this has me FERAL and i love sub buck a little more than i thought i would. this reminds me so much of good luck charm and i had to go back and change all the evan's to buck's because i'm so used to using evan in good luck charm lmao (read good luck charm if you haven't pls i promise it's a good time). also, just a reminder than buck is the only man ever<33 enjoy<3

warnings: smut, barely edited (oops), college fratboy!buck, sub!buck, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

Your face scrunches up as you walk over the threshold of the frat house, the smell of beer and sweat filling your senses and making you feel dizzy.

It’s not your first party. Far from it. You’ve been in this house many times; during parties, and when it’s just the members. You can’t even count how many times you’ve woken up in one of the rooms, a strong arm wrapped around your thick middle as hot breath hits the back of your neck. 

You’ve been to many parties with him, too, not even just college parties. You’ve been dating Buck since high school, and with him being on the football team in high school too, parties were something he was always dragging you to. Not that you minded.

“Wanna show off my girl.” he’d tell you. And you couldn’t do anything else but agree; not when he’s looking at you with those big blue eyes, a small pout on his lips. 

Even with being so used to parties, and having Buck by your side the entire time, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the first few moments when you step into the party. It’s so loud, and the smell of beer almost burns your nostrils as you try to maneuver through a sea of drunk people, just waiting for someone to get too close and spill beer all over your shirt. You learned early that wearing black was always the best option when you’re here.

You make your way through the crowd with Buck, watching him greet his teammates and other friends and laughing as they call him whipped for walking to your house to pick you up. He brushes them off. Tells them that he has to. That it’s his girl that he’s got to keep safe.

All of his friends have seen how he is around you, and while he tried to hide it during the first few weeks of college, it’s your last year, and it’s very clear to everyone that you’re his world. And they’ve stopped teasing him about it. For the most part.

You finally find a group of his friends and their girlfriends standing around between the living room and the kitchen, and you stop there, beers in hand as you both fall into conversation with them. 

Buck talks to his teammates while you talk to a couple of their girlfriends that you’ve grown quite close to. Buck keeps an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close. He likes to have you near him all the time; he’s seen the way some guys here look at you, and while he knows you won’t do anything about it, as you’ve been together for over 5 years and have yet to have a problem, it’s the guys he doesn’t trust.

“We’re gonna go get more drinks. You want another beer?” you ask him over the noise around you, standing up on your toes and practically yelling into his ear.

He smiles, looking down at the sight of you on your toes as he licks his lips.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” he asks over the music. You feel your already hot cheeks heat up even more, and you laugh softly.

“Yeah, a couple times.” you tell him, rolling your eyes. More like 10, at least. “You want a refill?”

“Yeah, if you’re going. Thank you, baby.” You nod, then put two fingers on his cheek, making you face him again as he holds his mouth near your ear. You give him a quick peck, then lower back down and turn to walk towards the kitchen with the girls.

You whirl your head back around when you feel a hand smack your ass, a tight-lipped smile forcing its way onto your face as you pretend to be mad. Buck raises his hands up in surrender, shrugging as he looks at you with an innocent expression. You roll your eyes, blowing him a kiss over your shoulder, and you see him pretend to catch it just before you turn back to face the kitchen.

You stand with the girls in the kitchen, stopping to talk to some other people you know before you get your refills. One of your friends is ranting very loudly about her boyfriend, one of Buck’s best friends, and you’re all listening intently. Their relationship is very on-again, off-again, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at her words. You got so lucky with Buck, you think.

Your conversation is cut short when her eyes widen, and she ducks behind you. All you hear is something sounding like a mumbled “he’s right there!” before she speed walks out of the kitchen and into the living room. You laugh with the other girls, and then grab your refills before making your way back to your boyfriends.

You stop in your tracks, however, when you’re met with the sight of Buck standing very closely to a pretty brunette. She laughs loudly at something he says, and everything around you disappears as your focus remains solely on the sight unfolding in front of you.

You frown as you see him smiling down at her, his head leaned down just slightly in order to hear her.

Buck is just trying to be polite, of course. He knew exactly what was happening as soon as she made her way over, stumbling slightly and almost crashing into him when she was finally right in front of him. 

He talks with her, not wanting to seem rude, but his mind is completely focused on you. His eyes widen in surprise when she stands up on her toes and grabs the back of his neck, pulling his ear down to her mouth to speak to him over the loud music and chatter around them. 

You can’t see his face when she puts his hand to the back of his neck; her head completely blocking your sight of his very clearly uncomfortable expression. All you see is his hand going to her waist. Your jaw clenches, and it’s like a car crash; it makes you sick, but you can’t tear your eyes away.

In your jealous haze, you don’t process the fact that she’s clearly stumbling around, and Buck’s hand on her waist seems to be the only thing keeping her from falling over completely. 

His eyes scan the room for you as she keeps talking, barely listening as he looks out for you. He wants you back here right now; he wants to show this girl that he’s taken. By you.

He doesn’t see you though. And when he finally leans down and tells her that he’s happily taken, she pouts, mumbling a slurred “of course you are” before she walks away. He lets out a sigh of relief, and a minute later, he smiles widely when he sees you crossing the room back to him.

He grunts when you practically shove his beer at him, his smile disappearing. He’s quick to grab the cup, and his brows furrow when he sees you ignoring his presence, keeping your eyes on some of the girls you were with. 

“You okay, baby?” he asks, whispering into your ear as he wraps an arm around you and rests his hand on your hip. You shrug, your body rigid as he pulls you closer to him. You know you’re being a little overdramatic; you’re sure the girl walked away pouting because Buck told her that he was taken, but you’re too jealous to listen to the voice of reason in your head.

“Perfect.” you reply shortly, your jaw clenched as you keep your eyes straight ahead of you. He keeps his eyes on you, and when you don’t even bother looking at him, he squeezes your hip, hoping it’ll get your attention.

“Hey, what’s up?” Are you mad at me?” he asks desperately. He hates when you’re mad at him. He doesn’t see it often, at least, not real anger. You’ve argued over silly things, of course, and he’s not unused to seeing how you get when you’re hangry, but it’s not very often you have actual fights.

“Do I have a reason to be mad at you?” you reply coldly, finally turning your head to look up at him with a raised brow. You’re glad the girls have noticed your anger, and have turned to talk to each other. 

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Buck says, his brows furrowed in confusion. He doesn’t even think of that girl earlier; he barely even paid attention to her. He couldn’t tell you a single thing about her. He was too focused on you coming back to him.

“Then why would I be mad at you?” you reply, although your tone tells him that you’re clearly mad at him.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.” Your sweet boy, always the voice of reason. He’s always eager to talk things out; he never wants things to grow into a bigger problem. Usually, you love it, but right now, it’s making you even more upset.

“Do you wanna go somewhere and talk?” he asks when you don’t answer right away. You huff, shaking your head, then turn your attention back to the girls who aren’t even facing you anymore.

“Not particularly.” you reply shortly. He huffs, grabbing your forearm gently and turning you to face him. He’s had enough of this. He just wants you to talk to him.

“Come on, baby. Can we go talk, please?” he asks, desperation in his eyes. He’s driving you insane right now; pretending not to know what you’re upset about.

“Do we have to? I thought you wanted to enjoy the party? I wouldn’t wanna stop you from that.” you reply in a mocking tone, crossing your arms over your chest as you finally face him.

“Baby, please. You know I want to be with you tonight. Please talk to me.” You groan, finally snapping and grabbing his wrist, beginning to pull him out of the house and towards your house. He drops his cup on a table haphazardly as he passes by it, eyes focused on you. 

He stays quiet as you pull him in the direction of your house, waiting for a minute before he speaks in a hushed tone, wary of the people walking past you two on the sidewalk.

“So? What’s up?” You shake your head, continuing to walk. You don’t want to argue with him in the middle of the sidewalk. 

He huffs, but keeps following you all the way to your house. When you’re finally in your room, the house eerily silent with your roommate still at the party, you finally turn to face him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Are you gonna explain why you’re so mad at me now?” he asks, trying desperately to keep the distance you’ve put between the two of you. You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“You’re really gonna keep playing dumb?” you ask angrily, narrowing your eyes at him. His eyes widen, and he tilts his head to the side, trying to think of a reason for your feelings.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby. Really. Just, please tell me why you’re upset.” he pleads, his voice softening. He wants nothing more than to see your pretty smile again, and he hates that he’s the reason for your frown.

“You were flirting with that girl! And don’t act like you weren’t because I saw you.” you seethe. Deep down, you know he’d never do that, but your jealousy is getting the best of you. His eyes widen further, and he shakes his head and stutters as he tries to come up with a reply. He’s taken back by your accusation. He would never do that. He has you. His sweet girl.

“I wasn’t flirting with her! She came up to me and was flirting with me, and I was trying to be polite. Is that really why you’re mad? Baby, you know I only want you.” His voice gets softer as he speaks, and he takes a step forward, desperate to touch you.

“It sure didn’t look like you were just being polite. You touched her.” you snap, jaw clenched as he takes a step forward.

“She was drunk; she was stumbling around. I was keeping her steady so she didn’t fall over. Come on, baby, you know I only want you.” he pleads, crossing the distance, reaching a hand out to you. You shake your head, taking a step back before you turn and walk towards your bed. 

You sit on the edge of your bed, putting your head in your hands. You know he’s right. His reassurances are slowly helping, but you’re still angry. He’s yours, and you don’t want to share. Ever.

“Baby, please. You know I wouldn’t do that to you.” he whispers, kneeling down in front of you, trying to meet your eyes as they remain focused on the floor.

“I know you wouldn’t. But I know what I saw.” you reply in a softer voice. You don’t want to argue anymore. You’re tired. But even so, your hair is standing on end, and you can feel your teeth grinding.

“You saw me keeping her from falling. Yes, she was flirting with me, but I didn’t reciprocate.” he explains, putting his hands on the top of your legging-clad thighs. You bite your lip, finally looking up at him.

“What can I do, baby? Let me show you that you’re the only one I want. Please.” he practically begs, his hands slowly moving up your thick thighs. You let out a shaky sigh, feeling goosebumps erupt on your skin from his touch, even through your leggings. 

“How are you gonna do that?” you ask softly, your heartbeat quickening as you sit up straighter and lean back on your hands.

“Let me show you, baby. Let me make you feel good. Show you how much I love you.” You bite your lip, a smirk coming onto your face at his desperate expression. You’re still angry, but it’s being clouded over by the sheer power you feel as you take in your boyfriend on his knees, begging to please you.

“Can I?” he asks, his voice almost a whimper as his fingers dance across the waistband of your leggings. 

“You better.” you reply in a slightly mocking tone. He smiles, tugging on your leggings eagerly. You lift your hips and let him pull your leggings and panties down in one go.

“Yes ma’am.” he whispers with a hint of a smirk, beginning to press feather light kisses up your inner thighs. As soon as his lips touch your thighs, he lets out a desperate moan, his smirk long gone as he looks up at you with desperate eyes.

“God, I love you so much, baby. Love your pretty body.” he murmurs against your skin, working his way up your thighs to your core. 

You bite your lip as he kisses you, and you move one of your hands to his hair, slowly pushing it back.

“You gonna show me, baby?” you ask in a sweet tone, although there’s a hint of condescension in your tone. Buck groans, nodding, and he can feel his dick twitching in his pants at your tone.

“Yeah, baby. I’m gonna show you. I’ll do anything you want.” he tells you eagerly, now dangerously close to your dripping centre.

“You know what to do.” you tell him, a smirk on your face as you hold eye contact with him. He wastes no time in pushing your legs even further apart, and wrapping his arms around your thighs. He lowers his mouth to your cunt, licking a firm strip up your folds before nuzzling into your heat, sucking and lapping eagerly.

You bite your lip, letting out a shaky sigh as you grip his hair tightly. He’s always eager to use his mouth on you, but now, you think he’ll have you seeing stars in record time.

“I’m all yours, baby. My sweet girl. God, you taste like heaven.” he murmurs against you, groaning. He darts his tongue into your cunt, using his nose to nudge at your clit, and you moan, tilting your head back and pushing his head further against you.

“Yeah? You’re all mine?” you ask shakily, and he nods eagerly, moaning.

“All yours. I only want you, baby.” he whimpers, taking his mouth away from you just long enough to speak before he’s diving back in, circling his tongue around your clit.

“Is that good, baby? Is this what you wanted?” you ask in a condescending tone when you feel his actions quicken slightly, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs.

“So good, baby. I love making you feel good. Taste so good.” he mumbles, although you can barely understand him as he keeps his head burrowed between your legs.

“Yeah? Just me? Or would you rather that girl at the party?” you ask sarcastically. He growls, his teeth grazing your clit as he looks up at you. You gasp, your grip tightening on his hair as you let out a soft laugh at his unimpressed reaction.

“Only you, baby. She’s nothing compared to you. So pretty.” he tells you, his eyes glancing down at your glistening folds as he speaks.

“Good answer. Now, are you gonna make me come, or am I not gonna let you touch me for a whole week?” you ask in a stern tone, licking your lips as he whimpers.

“God. Please, baby. Wanna make you come, please.” he murmurs, taking his mouth away to push two fingers into your dripping hole. You moan loudly as his lips attach back to your clit, and you can feel your stomach tighten at the feeling of both his fingers and mouth working you fervently.

“So good for me, baby. Don’t stop.” you purr, trying desperately to keep your eyes on him as you feel the familiar sensation growing in the pit of your tummy.

“Won’t stop. Wouldn’t dream of it.” he mutters, curling his fingers to push against that spot inside of you.

“Buck. Oh my god.” you whine loudly, tilting your head back as you finally let go. He smiles against your cunt, lapping up your juices until he’s sure he’s gotten it all, desperate to work you through your orgasm.

“How was that, baby?” he asks when he finally pulls away, his chin glistening with your juices.

“Did so good, baby. So good for me.” you tell him, trying to slow your heavy breathing as you push his hair back with the hand previously gripping his hair tightly.

He beams, kissing your thighs gingerly. You almost laugh; he’s looking up at you with bright, wide eyes, he almost looks like a sad puppy.

“Thank you. Taste so good, baby. Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” he murmurs, continuing to kiss your sensitive thighs.

“You think you should be forgiven now?” you ask in a slightly teasing tone. You know you’ve forgiven him; you forgave him as soon as his lips touched your core, but you can’t help but continue for a little bit longer.

“Yes. Please. Please forgive me, pretty girl. I only want you.” he pleads, squeezing your thighs.

You laugh softly, caressing his cheek, and he leans into your touch immediately.

“I forgive you, baby. But if I see something like that again, I won’t be so nice.” you tease, although there’s a sternness in your voice. He nods quickly, pressing one last kiss to your thigh.

“Promise, baby. It won’t happen again. I love you.” he says desperately. You keep a straight face for a moment before you smile, nodding.

“I know, and I love you, too. Now give me a kiss.” you tell him softly. He’s quick to unwrap his arms from your thighs, standing up and pushing you back onto the bed. He crawls over top of you, slotting between your legs as he kisses you with fervor. 

You can taste yourself on his tongue as his tongue glides across your lips, and you part them gently, pulling him closer by his shirt.

“I love you. My pretty girl.” he murmurs against your lips, and you smile, continuing to kiss him.You know you may have overreacted, but it was definitely worth it to see him like this.

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[bamfkeeper]

You were taken and Kurt does everything he can to to get you back.

I wanted to write something like this since the post where he sees you get hurt and goes nuts. This is sorta like that but more extreme. A little darker than what I've written before. Please skip this one if the warnings make you uncomfortable. There might be a part two that features more recovery, maybe. Idk yet we will see.

Warnings: Gender neutral mutant!reader, kidnapping, descriptions of injury, creepy soldiers, violence, mutant prejudice (the term 'mutie' is used), mentions/descriptions of physical abuse via soldiers to reader, good ending I promise, unedited (at this point please just expect it lmao I never edit my writing bc I'm lazy).

WC: 3.4k

It happened so fast, a blur of motion and confusion. You barely had time to react before you were snatched from the comforting surroundings of your bedroom and forcefully shoved into a heavily armored vehicle. The interior was cramped, filled to the brim with men in imposing uniforms, their expressions stern and unyielding. You looked up at all of them, your heart pounding in your chest.

Your powers were gone, they had put that damn collar on you, the one designed to nullify your abilities. In that moment, you felt completely and utterly helpless, stripped of your defenses and at the mercy of your captors. They knew it too.

"Poor thing. It doesn't know what to do, does it?" one of them snickered at you, his voice dripping with mockery and malice, making you shiver with a mix of disgust and fear. The man's voice was so vile it made you want to vomit, and the way he looked at you made you feel profoundly uncomfortable. You were helpless, bound on the cold, hard ground of the van, as all of these soldiers kept their disgusting, predatory gazes glued on you, watching you squirm in agony and distress on the floor.

The air was thick with the stench of sweat and metal, amplifying your sense of dread and making your situation feel even more hopeless. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as you desperately wished for some form of escape, but there was none. The soldiers' laughter and jeers filled the back of the van, and you felt even more distressed.

"You're a cute mutie, you know that? Most of 'em you can tell are filthy things, but you...you're one of the attractive ones, aren't you?" one soldier spoke. His words were condescending and cruel despite what he said. The tone of his voice carried a sharp edge, filled with disdain and mockery. He looked you up and down with a sneer, observing you with distain and annoyance.

His comrades stood by, chuckling and nodding in agreement, their eyes filled with the same mixture of contempt and amusement. His expression growing more malicious with each passing second, his boot lifted and kicked you slightly. "Are you going to speak, or are you mute, just like a dumb animal?" he asked sharply.

You took a sharp inhale, your chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to steady your nerves. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, as you made a conscious effort to avoid interacting with them at all. The last thing you wanted was to provoke them and risk any form of retaliation.

Your throat was dry, and you could feel your heart pounding in your ears as you swallowed thickly. "N-no..." you managed to let out in a quiet, shaky whisper, barely audible but enough to convey your reluctance and fear.

A sharp sting to your cheek as one of them swung their baton across your face, the impact reverberating through your skull. The blow was so hard it jerked your head to the side with brutal force, and your temple slammed painfully into the cold, unforgiving floor of the van. You could feel the rough texture of the metal against your skin, the scent of dirty leather and iron filled your nostrils, adding to the disorienting pain.

He scoffed, the sound filled with disdain, his eyes holding nothing but cruel amusement and a twisted sense of superiority. "Pathetic freak," he spat, the words dripping with contempt and malice.

The ride was unbearably long and dreary, stretching on for what felt like an eternity. You laid on the cold, hard floor of the van silently, trying to block out the incessant comments and remarks they made about you and your appearance. Their voices dripped with eager malice as they spoke about the brazen and disgusting things they wanted to do to you, each word sending a shiver down your spine and making you want to curl up into a tight ball and hide from the world.

After what seemed like endless hours of discomfort, the van finally slowed to a stop. You were roughly dragged out of it, your legs refusing to cooperate after being forced to lay in such an uncomfortable position for so long. The sun had set the world into a foggy darkness, the only lights illuminating the area were from the large bunker that was build into the wall of a large mountain, guarded with armored vehicles and more men in uniforms.

You struggled to regain your bearings as they pulled you forward, your body aching and your mind reeling from the ordeal. They forcefully walked you inside the huge doors that were drawn open, jerking you around with a roughness that made it hard to keep your composure. Their hands grasped you firmly, their hands groping your body as you struggled against their grip, trying desperately to maintain a calm façade.

Your brave face was beginning to falter, and it became increasingly evident that your terror was rapidly growing. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't hide the fact that fear was taking over, creeping into every corner of your mind.

They walked you to a wall of cells, which stretched endlessly in both directions, each one containing a mutant. Some cells already held mutants who were caged and looked absolutely horrible, as if they had been there for a long time. The conditions of the cells varied greatly; some were sterile and clean, while others were more run-down and dilapidated, as if the guards had no fear that the mutant inside would ever escape.

The air was thick with the smell of decay and neglect. Most of the mutants didn't move or look up; they were either lying down or sitting in a posture of utter defeat. Their eyes were vacant, their spirits broken, and it seemed as though hope had long since abandoned them. The overall atmosphere was one of despair and abandonment, a stark reminder of the cruelty inflicted upon them.

"What is this place?" you asked, attempting to sound firm and confident. However, your voice betrayed you, emerging as meek and afraid instead. The man holding you chuckled in amusement at your fear as he opened the heavy, creaking door to your chosen cell.

"Your new home, mutant. Get comfortable," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. With a rough shove, he threw you onto the cold, hard ground. The impact knocked the wind out of you as you landed with a thud. The man then unsheathed a gleaming blade, its edge catching the dim light.

He began to cut through the coarse ropes that bound your body, each slice of the blade careless. He didn’t care if he nicked you, and he did a few times. You flinched as the blade cut your skin, the sharp jerks and sawing through the ropes stabbed into you as you let out sharp hisses and pained gasps.

The man continued as if he weren't hurting you, and he scoffed with each noise you made. "If you sat still this wouldn't have happened," he grabbed one of your bleeding arms and he held it up.

"What do you want from me?" Your voice whined out, desperate for answers. None of their uniforms gave their organization away, and you had no idea what they wanted with you. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls, which only added to the sense of dread you felt. The man just stood up, shrugging nonchalantly as if this entire situation was a routine matter for him.

"Nothing important. Whatever the boss wants," he replied, his voice dripping with apathy. "We do anything to your kind, and no one will come for you. We won't be charged with any crimes, you aren't people. You're nothing to us, and soon we will exterminate your species and we will be the supreme race on the planet again."

His words cut through the air like a knife, making it hard to breathe. You could see the cold determination in his eyes, a reflection of a deeply ingrained hatred. It was clear that they had been planning this for a long time, and you were just another pawn in their grand scheme. The thought of being part of such a ruthless plan made your stomach churn, but there was nothing you could do but listen and hope for a chance to escape.

The days melded together in an indistinguishable blur, and your concept of time dissipated. Every single day, you were visited by the men, who would unceremoniously drag you into a sterile lab filled with cold, clinical instruments.

There, a man wearing white would subject you to various invasive procedures, poking and prodding you with sharp tools that seemed designed to maximize your agony. They took many things from you—blood, tissue samples, and even bone marrow—leaving you feeling increasingly depleted and always somewhat wounded and weak.

Your time in this nightmarish place was exactly what mutantkind was afraid of, what you were afraid of, filled with relentless suffering, and they showed no sign of compassion or concern for the excruciating pain they inflicted upon you.

You were beaten regularly, just like the rest of the mutants being held captive in the facility. Every day, they came to your cell with their batons, mercilessly laying into you until your skin changed colors from the bruises. They were relentless, you were kicked and hit repeatedly, dragged by your hair across the cold, hard floors, thrown against the walls, and tossed around like a ragdoll.

You were barely fed, only given tasteless slop that had the consistency of old paste and looked anywhere from white to grey mush. This so-called "food" was just enough to keep you from starving, but not enough to ever feel full or satisfied. The meals were infrequent and meager, purposefully designed to keep you in a state of constant hunger and weakness.

They wanted to ensure that your body remained perpetually frail, as if the collar around your neck didn't already make you harmless enough for them. This deliberate deprivation was a method of control, a way to break down your spirit and ensure that you remained too weak to resist or fight back.

You were so tired.

The torment seemed endless. You swore that if they didn't need to take samples from your body nearly every day for their experiments, they would have taken pleasure in killing you outright. The relentless abuse was a constant reminder of your helplessness, and the fact that you couldn't fight back killed you inside.

Collared, drugged, and experimented on like some kind of helpless animal, it seemed like there was no end to the torment. They groped and touched you in ways you didn't want, and it was clear they had no regard for your consent or well-being. The very sight of your discomfort brought them pleasure, and they made sure you knew it every step of the way. Their methods were devised and precise; deeply psychological torment designed to break your spirit and make you feel utterly powerless.

As much as you hated it, it worked.

Their methods proved to be highly effective, gradually wearing you down over time. You could feel yourself slowly succumbing to their demands, submitting to what they wanted from you. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism that your brain instinctively resorted to in order to cope with the relentless torture and abuse. After enduring for such a long period, you found that you had no fight left within you, completely drained of the will to resist.

Red alarms blared loudly, their piercing sound cutting through the silence and yanking you from a rare slumber. Startled, you blinked awake, though your vision was slightly corrupted by the bruises and swollen skin, especially around your dominant eye, which throbbed painfully.

Groggily, your head rose from the cold, hard floor, confusion flooding your mind as you tried to process your surroundings. The distant sounds of fighting drifted to your ears from the direction of your cell, adding to the disorientation and making you wonder what the hell was happening beyond the confines of your small, dimly-lit prison.

You felt your body flinch violently as something large and heavy slammed into the room where the cells were located. The sudden noise echoed through the small, confined space, sending a chill down your spine. Instinctively, you crawled into the nearest corner and curled up there, trying to make yourself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

You had learned from experience that the precious visits from the men were less painful if you were already huddled against the wall, minimizing the areas they could hit with their fists or batons. The cold, hard surface of the wall offered a strange sense of comfort, even as fear and uncertainty gnawed at you.

The the heavy, metallic sound of your cell door creaking open, and instinctively, your entire body tensed up, bracing for yet another brutal attack from the armed men who derived joy from taunting and tormenting you. You prepared yourself for the rough hands and the mocking jeers that usually followed. But this time, instead of the expected harsh touches and cruel laughter, you were met with something entirely different—a voice you hadn't expected to hear again.

"Liebe..." the voice whispered weakly, the word hanging in the air like a fragile thread of hope. Puzzled and intrigued, you slowly pulled your head out from its tucked, defensive position and glanced toward the source of the unexpected whisper. The sight that met your eyes made you freeze.

Kurt stood in shock, his eyes glued to your fragile, timid form curled on the floor. The scene overwhelmed him, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. He slowly knelt down, every movement deliberate as if sudden actions might shatter the fragile peace. His hands, steady yet trembling with restrained emotion, gently set his swords on the floor with a quiet clink that echoed in the silence. "Liebe...y/n..." he rasped quietly, his voice a soft whisper, trying his best to sound calm and composed despite the complete internal storm of rage and anguish brewing within him.

His heart ached with as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your form, not wanting to startle you further. You stared with uncertainty, your body naturally flinching away, so used to a heavy hand and harsh touches that left you in anguish. For some reason, your brain couldn't differentiate between your lover and the men who had been torturing you.

"I-It's me, Kurt..." he said with a pained strain, his voice cracking as if it hurt to speak, "It's okay...I'm here now." He muttered, his hand gently touching your bruised body, his fingers trembling slightly as if afraid to cause you more pain. You made a quiet whine, a soft sound that conveyed both your relief and your lingering fear. Looking at him and realizing that he had come to you, that he was truly here, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you.

He was here, and you were safe.

The room around you seemed to blur as the significance of his presence settled in, the promise of protection and care easing the tension consuming you. A cry escaped your throat and you fell into him, his arms instantly wrapped around your body, his tail following suit. "Shh, sh...Es ist okay, ich bin jetzt hier." he whispered, trying his best to soothe you while your cheeks dampened with tears.

He held you tightly and let you cry, feeling the tremors of your sobs against his chest. He could hear the terror and desperation in your muffled wails, each one a heartbreaking testament to your pain. Your arms and hands gripped him, but your hold was weak, your strength sapped by the inhumane treatment you endured. You were in dire need of medical attention, evident from your pale complexion and labored breathing. Despite this, he didn't want to let go yet; he wanted to keep you in his arms, so afraid to let go and lose you again.

"You're safe now, liebling," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "Oh... I was so scared... so terribly scared I might not reach you in time." His heart ached with the memory of the fear and helplessness he had felt, and he vowed never to let you out of his sight again.

"Let's go...hold on..." he said, gripping you tightly as his tail moved and wrapped securely around his swords. With a swift motion, he teleported you to the jet. The floor beneath you was hard and unyielding, but the environment around you was far more welcoming and comforting than the cold, harsh cell that had been stained with your own blood.

He leaned back to grab something, his arms unwrapping from your body, but your grip grew stronger on him. "No...no, don't go," you were desperate for him, so terrified of his absence, your mind was in pieces, the aftermath of the torture you went through on full display as you became more and more attached to his presence. Needing him like he were the only thing keeping you from drowning in the thrashing waters that plagued your thoughts.

"I'm not going anywhere, schatz... I am just getting a blanket for you," Kurt soothed reassuringly. His tail, nimble and gentle, reached out to grab the blanket so his arms could remain wrapped securely around you, providing a sense of comfort and stability that you desperately needed. He carefully grabbed the soft blanket and draped it over you, making sure you were warm, and continued to hold you close against his body in a protective embrace.

The presence of the other X-Men in the jet went by unnoticed by you, They started up the jet and began the flight back towards the mansion where you could be properly treated. Right now, your only focus was on Kurt, his presence and touch being the only things grounding you in that moment of anxiety.

As you finally began to give in to the much-needed sleep your body was desperate for, your eyes caught a glimpse of the swords Kurt had carried with him into the facility. Their brilliant, silver shine was now dulled with the stains of crimson, splattered and smeared across the once pristine blades, telling a silent tale of what transpired before he found you. You blinked, trying to focus more on them, but his tail pushed them out of view, obscuring the unsettling sight.

Kurt didn't want you to witness the sheer carnage he had wrought, as he was completely blinded by a bitter and relentless rage that consumed him entirely. In his fury, he slaughtered so many men that he lost count, not even realizing the extent of his actions. All he could think about was wanting you back in his arms, where you would be safe and protected from the horrors that had befallen you. His blades were stained with the hateful blood of those men who had caused you so much harm, and he felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, even though deep down he knew it was wrong.

But he didn't care about the morality of his actions, not now at least. Seeing you so badly hurt had ignited a fire within him, a burning guilt that was only somewhat lifted by the vengeance he exacted. His mind was clouded, but in the chaos, all he wanted was get you home safe where you could be treated. None of the other X-Men dared say a word to him about what happened, by the time they arrived to help Kurt had already went through the men with ease, his blind rage driving him to kill to get to you.

He carefully adjusted his hold, making sure that you could lay your head more comfortably against him. He wanted to ensure that you couldn't see the gleaming blades. His expression was a complex mixture of trouble and deep worry, reflecting the weight of the situation and his concern for your well-being. Leaning closer, he whispered softly, "Rest, liebe... we will get you fixed up soon. Just hold on a little longer..."

You couldn't argue with him now. Your body was in need of rest and you finally felt safe enough to fall asleep. It was such a relief to sleep without worrying about someone coming in and hurting you. You closed your eyes as he held you tight, whispering sweet nothings to you as you slowly allowed your body to fall into a deep slumber. All you knew now was that you had a long recovery ahead of you, and he would be by your side the entire time.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight and @/strangergraphics

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[bvidzsoo]

Your little monster

✗ Mafia heir!Mingi ✗ 

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

∞ Warning: pretty suggestive, language, guns, violence, blood, murder, toxicity ∞ Word count: 3.4k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, established relationship!au, mafia reader!au, Harley Quinn x Joker inspired relationship, smut ∞ Rating: mature ∞ Summary: Oh, how sweet it feels ruling the world. Perhaps you went a little bit overboard as you now have to rescue your boyfriend from going to prison, but it's not like you haven't done worse things together. One might say love turned you two mad.

∞ A/N: Despite being completely depressed today, hey, the inspiration came to finally write this lmao. Now we only have San's part left behind and I'll finally be done with this little mafia drabble mini-series, and I'm already thinking of starting something new and longer due to the current comeback, sigh. Let me know if I forgot anything that should be considered for a warning, I haven't detailed anything too much. Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy! <3

✗ For ambience, listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            The explosion replayed on the TV made my skin crawl most excitingly as I grinned in contentment, the cowboy hat lowered over my eyes as I sat in the metal chair, its coldness seeping through my leather attire. A sheen coat of sweat glinted around my temples and between my breasts, the air was rather humid inside the station, even with the open windows. Police officers ran around like jesters, their walkie-talkies staticky every few seconds as they were addressed or had to address someone. My eyes followed every movement closely, surveying the officers' steps and the security of this place. It wasn’t as tight as I had thought it would be given the high criminal rate in this part of the city, but that was only beneficial for me as I grinned under my hand, smacking my lips together before I sighed loudly, making sure my long, exposed, legs would get every men’s attention that passed by the lobby. It wasn’t a lobby, per se, but the chairs placed there were obviously for visitors. Not that any visitor was allowed in at this hour, but nobody seemed to be paying much attention to me, yet. If only they had known what was hiding underneath my leather bomber jacket, strapped to my vest, maybe they would have thought twice about letting me walk in here and sit around unsupervised.

My eyes strayed back onto the TV again, and I chuckled at the shitty quality of the video, but it was unmistakable who the people in it were. Besides, the names flashing in big, red, font on the screen made it rather obvious who the two criminals running away in their Pontiac were. Song Mingi and me. The Firebird, of course, wasn’t ours, but Mingi’s little friend who owned it was late with his payment, so, we made a little bargain with him. Not that the man has had much of a choice saying no to us, it was between his gorgeous white cabriolet or his life. The scum had begged rather pitifully for his life, it had been entertaining holding my gun against his temple, playing Russian Roulette with him. I knew there had been no bullets in the gun, but the man didn’t, and seeing him beg for his life filled me with arousal and excitement like nothing else. There was something about men falling to their knees and praying for their lives that had a certain effect on me, filling me with an adrenaline rush I couldn’t find anywhere else even if I actively searched for it. Not even robbing banks or forcing our way inside households was as exhilarating as making men cry was.

And the man I liked seeing cry the most was Mingi, whether it was underneath me from overstimulation, or because I waterboarded him for even so much as for looking into another female’s direction, the exhilarating power rush was always the same. It was maddening, it was addicting, and I never wanted it to stop. And that is exactly why I never stopped seeking it out. As the TV volume was increased by a passer-by general, a cup of coffee in his hand despite the ungodly hour, I finally caught someone’s attention. The man sitting at the reception, sometimes forced to operate even three phones at one time, looked up with furrowed eyebrows and pointed at me.

“You, lady!” He called loudly, making me grin to myself as I straightened up in my seat, “What business do you have here? Come here!”

The general’s eyes fell on me as I stood up, well aware that my mini-skirt barely concealed anything, yet I made myself look bashful as I adjusted the cowboy hat on top of my head, making sure nobody could see my eyes or my unmistakable flaming ginger hair. I tipped my hat in his direction before I headed for the reception, making sure to sway my hips sensually. The man at the reception frowned at me, apparently not so easily charmed, but he’d eventually be one of my prey as well, all men gave in, after all.

“You called for me?” I grinned and bit my bottom lip, making the man sigh loudly.

“Yes, what is your business here at this hour, lady?” The man sounded irritated, but I didn’t let that get to me as I pouted, my butcher knife pressed uncomfortably into my hip as I shifted my weight around on my feet.

“You see, my boyfriend is in one of your cells, and—”

“Visiting hours start at 9 o’clock, lady, you have to leave.” I tried not to grit my teeth at the interruption and hummed, forcing a sweet smile onto my lips.

“But I’m not here to visit him, Mr. Officer.” I purred, placing my arms over his desk as I leaned forward, pushing my breasts out. I knew if the light fell just right on my exposed skin, the officer could see just what was hidden under my bomber jacket, but wasn’t life boring without a little thrill? “I’m here to bail him out, of sorts.”

The man’s eyes paused on my breasts for a second and I chuckled, they were all the same, manipulating them had always been too easy. The man gulped, then looked back up at my face, his lips pursed but his pupils had slightly dilated. He was too easy.

“What’s the man’s name?”

“I can’t tell you that just yet,” I giggled, reaching forward to play with the shiny badges plastered against his left breast, “I must check if my little cowboy is fine, first. Then, you’ll know if I found him or not.”

The man glanced down at my perfectly manicured stiletto nails still playing with his badges, and he made no moves to push my hand away. How stupid, a jerk of my arm and I’d be able to slash his throat open. How foolish. But when he looked at my face again, I made sure my expression remained innocent, hiding all my thoughts just like I had been once taught by Master Song, the big bad dog, our mafia head and boss of the city, Mingi’s father. Dream big and aim high, if you know how to manipulate men, you might end up living the dream life. It had been too easy so far, Mingi is too dumb for his own good, but he’s amazing at his craft, and thus, I can’t really leave a man that knows what to do with his dick. Besides, once Master Song is gone, Mingi will be the next heir, and then I will have the whole world at my feet. Perfect.

“Your name, lady?” The office grimaced, his eyebrows furrowing now that I was evading all of his questions.

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know, sweets.” I chuckled, then gripped his badge and yanked him forward by it, making him yelp loudly. The general looked our way, eyebrows furrowed, before he slowly started approaching us, hand on his gun, “Take a wild guess, the news has been raging about us all night long.”

Perhaps blowing up a whole factory owned by the government wasn’t the smartest of Mingi and me, Master Song would punish us adequately if we decided to go back instead of hiding out on one of his private islands until he had cooled off. The perks of dating a mafia head’s son, I suppose. The officer at the desk finally glanced over to the TV, and I took the momentum to slam his head hard enough into the desk to make him pass out. The general was by my side now, and before he could gain the upper head and point his gun at my head, I whirled around and fetched my sharp knife, grinning at him. I kneeled him hard in the gut before spinning him around, knife pressing hard into his smooth flesh. I chuckled as the general didn’t touch his gun, all eyes on us in shock. Then, guns were pointed at us and I scoffed, resting my chin on the general’s shoulder.

“Seriously?” I tsked, “I’m going to slit his throat before you could fire your guns, idiots. Now be good dogs and lower your guns before I blow this whole place up.”

And just on cue, the small microchips I had planted around the offices started beeping, connected to the little machine I had sitting against my lower back. I press one tiny little green button, and this whole place is gone in seconds. The atmosphere was tense as everyone stood frozen, prompting me to press the knife harder into the man’s throat. The general hissed and raised his arms in surrender, “Lower your guns! She’ll blow this whole place up.”

“I damn will!” I giggled and watched the man’s profile. He was old, but he was still handsome. Not my type, but he was definitely eye candy for the older ladies, “Now, you will take me to my love if you want everyone to go home once their shifts are over. And no funny business, Mr. General, or your guts will be all over the floor.”

The general sighed quietly, then pointed towards the back, “Song Mingi is down that hallway.”

“Lovely, now chop chop, I ain’t got all night!” I huffed and manhandled the man around, pushing him towards the door he had mentioned. And just to prove a point to any stupid officer who thought they could somehow have the upper hand here, I reached behind my back with my left arm, feeling around for the nth number of buttons that were lined on the small device. Finding the one I’d been searching for, I sent a flying kiss towards the officers who remained back. However, once the light turned red as I pushed the small button, an explosion inside the building went off, setting the alarms and water system off. Lights flashed in the building and chaos instantly ensued as I giggled, grinning at the general who watched me with wide eyes, “Oopsie, I thought that button was for your lovely cop cars…well, at least they’ll understand I’m not playing around here.”

“You’re crazy.” The general hissed angrily as we walked through the door, forgotten about now that people had to take care of whichever room I had blown up. I think it was the supply room, but I couldn’t be too sure, there were too many small bombs hidden around this place, fascinating, isn’t it?! I pressed a kiss against the man’s cheek to annoy him further, and he made a sound in the back of his throat, looking disgusted.

“You’re no fun, Mr General, lighten up a bit!” I rolled my eyes and forced him forward when he tried to stop walking, “If you were less handsome, I would’ve killed you the second we passed through this door. I know my way around here, this isn’t my first rodeo, sweets.”

            The general had to go once he tried to slam me against a wall and point my own weapon against me. Poor thing was now bleeding out on the floor of an inmate I decided to set free for my own satisfaction. The rows of the cells seemed to be never-ending as I changed the ammunition for my gun once again, leaving a wake of blood in my footsteps, the hallways littered with injured and dying officers since they didn’t understand playing nice would’ve kept them alive. Greedy bastards, when will they learn that the mafia controls everything? Besides, I’m way more skilled than they ever will be. Most cells were empty and my patience was running thin, wondering whether they had fucked me over and led me towards the wrong door and hallway. Maybe Mingi had been already transported from here to a highly guarded prison, from which breaking him out would’ve been way too difficult, but not impossible. Anything for my pookie, besides, Master Song would kill me for getting his son in trouble and abandoning him. So, really, until the enterprise was solely mine, I had to cater to the likes of these dumb and irritating men in power.

My heels resounded in the quietness of the hallway loudly, and I groaned when another cell turned out to be empty. My hands gripped the gun tightly as I made sure to stay alert, well aware that I didn’t have much time before the whole police force and military would rush over us. But I still had two cells to check, so I continued to have hope. My heart stuttered in my chest when suddenly two hands came through the bars lazily, hanging out casually as if he had no worries in this world. The skin was heavily tattooed on both hands, nails painted black and chapped, his thick fingers littered with expensive rings and chunky bracelets that hung around his dainty wrists. With a grin on my face, I sped up, coming to a stop in front of the cell, coming face to face with the familiar image of my lover’s face. His eyeliner was all smudged and his lips were bloody and swollen, yet the attractive smirk was still present on his lips as his dark, and sharp, eyes travelled all over my body. He wore similar attire, all black and leather, his vest low cut and showing off his chest tattoos, the hem of the vest stopping just above his hips to show off their sultriness, his happy trail dark.

“All dressed up for me, sugar?” The deep rumble of his voice had my skin covered in goosebumps and my stomach coiling in lust. God, despite knowing each other since we were kids, I still hadn’t gotten used to the vision he was.

Song Mingi.

He might’ve been a dumb and easily manipulable man, good for his riches and for his big dick, but one look at his attractive face never failed to make me forget my grand scheme for the future. One touch and I’d unravel, one kiss and I had no idea who I was anymore. He was hypnotic and consuming, toxic and violent, but God could I seemingly not walk away and try to fix my life. Not that I had any chance of righting all my wrongdoings, I’ve been too deep into this criminal life to find salvation at this point.

“Come on, baby, won’t you get me out?” Mingi bit his bottom lip as we continued staring at each other, suddenly a dark thought crossing my mind as I smirked, tipping my hat up so that our eyes met.

“Like you did the last time?” If it hadn’t been simply for my wits and smartness, I’d be still rotting away in that godawful prison. Mingi’s expression fell for a second before he chuckled amusedly, quirking an eyebrow up.

“You need no rescuing, doll, I knew you could do it by yourself.” Mingi’s deep tone rumbled through his chest as I took a step towards him. The sirens had gone off at some point, signalling an emergency. I knew we were tight on time, but to make sure we still had some more minutes, I had set off the bombs on all the parked cars in front of the station so that they’d be distracted for a bit longer.

“Really, love?” I tilted my head, stopping in front of the bars in hand reach. Mingi hummed as his hands slipped forward, settling on my hips as he squeezed hard, licking his lips as his eyes stayed on my breasts. We usually wore matching outfits just for the fun of it, but the vest I was currently wearing was bought for different activities, “You want me to believe that? I know you were fucking that blonde bitch while I was fighting off five guards.”

The hiss was sharp as my eyes narrowed at Mingi, who had mastered the perfect innocent expression sometime in the past and was looking at me with it now, “Sugar, I was busy looking over the shipment, you know that. My father had sent a team to get you, but you were already soaking in our bath, waiting for me—”

“You’re full of shit.” I snapped, reaching forward abruptly to wrap my fingers around Mingi’s warm throat. His necklaces were heavy and chunky, but they looked fucking amazing on him. I ignored him for my own sake as I pressed my thumb harsher into his throat, making Mingi swallow nervously, “This is the last time I let you off the hook, Mingi. If you fuck anyone else ever again, I’ll cut your dick off before I take your whole legacy in the family.”

Mingi grinned, licking the corner of his mouth as he leaned forward, thinking he had the upper hand, “You love my dick too much to do that.”

“I’ve met plenty of men with bigger dicks than yours.”

“Let me out.” Mingi’s tone dropped as a fire appeared in his eyes, his jaw clenched. I laughed tauntingly, biting my lower lip as I released his neck while pushing him backwards, our eyes trained on each other. After more than ten years of partnership, we still didn’t trust each other. Maybe it was because Mingi wasn’t as dumb as I liked to think he was, and he could see right through me and my intentions. Maybe it was because I liked to play with him and threaten to fuck him up too often, but neither one of us was a trustworthy person, and I knew Mingi hated it. As if the SMG tattoo sitting on my collarbones wasn’t enough to prove my devotion to him. Nobody would even touch me out of fear now that I was forever branded to him, and I made sure those who did touch him, lost all of their fingers and toes too.

The gunshot echoed loudly as I shot the lock off, who needs a key when you have a gun? I pulled the door slowly open and Mingi remained patient, that is until I stepped in his way when he tried to leave. Without warning, I was slammed against the concrete wall, air knocked from my lungs as his swollen lips pressed against mine bruisingly, one large palm fondling my exposed ass cheek. My moan was swallowed by his desperate tongue as it pushed against mine, fingers curling around my thigh and hiking one leg up so that he could press his semi-hard on into me, groaning at the friction. I sucked at his tongue hungrily, my free hand tangling in his dark locks and yanking on them just like he liked it, making Mingi whine as he rutted against me, fondling my thigh and ass as if he hadn’t touched me in forever. This wasn’t the place nor time for this, but keeping our hands off each other was impossible even after years of being together. I knew things like this turned Mingi on all the time, and I would be a liar if I said I didn’t get a kick out of it too.

“My father will kill us this time, babe.” Mingi mumbled against my lips as he bit my bottom lip, grabbing my hand that held the gun to point it at his temple, “Fuck, I want to be inside you so badly, baby.”

“Fuck me then before they get here,” I provoked him, biting all over his face before I nipped at the skin of his hot neck, “Feel me up babe, see what I have hidden just for you.”

Mingi gulped, eyes hungry as his hands gripped my sides, feeling me up all over my torso and back, cupping both my ass cheeks to hoist me up, forcing me to grip his hips with my thighs tightly. I had all of his favourite weapons strapped onto myself, knowing he’d make good use of them, “You’ll be the death of me one day, Y/N.”

“I know I will.” I smirked, then captured his lips in a frenzied kiss again as we heard shouts closing in on us, “Seems like you’ll have to wait with fucking me, besides, our new jacuzzi was installed today. It would be a shame not trying it out after the day we had.”

“I love the way you think,” Mingi grinned and took his gun from the holster from my waist and lowered me onto the ground, gripping my jaw to tilt my head up, “And I didn’t fuck that blonde, sugar, she stole the watch I had gotten from you and she’s now floating away head down in the river.”

I cackled as the shouts were clear as day now, the officers were here. Oh, how much fun we were just about to have. After sharing one more lustful kiss, our ammunition was cleared without hesitance.

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[peaches-and-creamm]

𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓭𝓪

wc: 3.4k or so

WARNINGS: fem reader, semi-public sex, soft dom!Megumi, sub!reader. p in v, unprotected sex, cumming inside, use of pet names- giving and receiving; baby, pretty girl, good girl, and an established relationship.

CHARACTERS OF AGE / OR AGED UP!

A/N: basically you n megumi fuck outside by the vending machines lmao, i havent written smut in so long so sorry if its ass LMAOO

Ever since it started getting hotter outside everyone, of course, switched to their summer uniforms.

And although the boys usually would just trash their shirts off to the side if they happened to get too sweaty or something during training, Megumi preferred to just relax in the shadows, observing while he drank his water.

His gaze found its way to you, though(as always). The way you were swinging around your practice sword, how your chest bounced while you hoisted the piece of wood above you, swinging down and to the side towards where your sparring partner was.

Megumi found it hard to even focus on anything else but how your body moved, each twist and turn you did to avoid incoming attacks making his stomach turn in a way he usually tries to avoid. He hated feeling like some kind of pervert who watches women just exist- doing normal things and getting aroused by it, yet he couldn't stop to even imagine anything other than how your body looks in that pretty new uniform you'd just gotten.

His attention was finally turned to something else- forcefully, mind you. He'd completely forgotten he himself was supposed to be doing hand-to-hand today, but now he could only look to his palm and remember how soft your chest felt. He balled his hand into a fist and shook his head to clear some of the lewd thoughts that raced through his mind, he knew he had to stop himself before this went any further- and he practically forced himself to no longer look in your direction.

Though when his deep blue eyes met your own his breath caught in his throat- it was like it was the first time you two met all over again. And, when you smiled and waved in his direction before getting smacked upside the head by your sparring partner for being distracted so easily, he gulped- a small dusting of pink coating his cheeks as he quickly avoided his gaze, opting to watch the ground as he walked towards where the vending machines were.

After not too long, he saw your distinct figure from the corner of his eye, your bouncy walk and happy smile on your face as you approached him.

"Hey Megumiiii!" You said happy as you stood beside him, watching as he pressed the button on the machine without even having to look at what he's getting. He knew already, ginger soda- as always. What would be the point of giving it his attention when you were right next to him?

He gulped as he gave you a once over, his gaze lingering on a stray hair that was stuck to your sweat clad forehead, lingering on how your cheeks were red because of your previous movements- he thought it was cute. 

He loved watching how proud you looked after you'd win a practice fight, and he could tell by how excited you looked that you'd most likely won, even including the fact you were distracted for a moment.

"Hey." He simply spoke with a small smile on his face, not looking you in the eyes while he inspected how the sweat you had worked up had caused your shirt to stick to your soft skin.

The vending machine clunked as his drink fell out, but before he could bend down to grab it you reached your hand up to his shoulder to pull him down slightly so your lips could meet in a brief kiss onto his own cold lips.

He blinked a few times in surprise before his eyes met yours for a moment. He cleared his throat once, a pink dusting his cheeks he leaned down to grab his drink.

"Saw ya' sulking on the bleachers, you okay megs?" You innocently questioned, your head tilted to the side as you scanned his body for any possible injuries of the sort.

"Huh? I wasn't sulking..?" He leaned down to reach through the metal flap of the spot in the machine that dispenses the drink and he grabbed it with a large hand.

He fiddled with the tab of the drink, eyes glued to it as his cheeks got hotter while he thought of how your lips felt. His eyebrows furrowed as he found focus in pushing the tab up and down, causing a little 'dink' noise every time he flicked the cool metal.

You hummed to yourself as you watched him fidget, your lips pursing together as you looked him up and down a few times. You put your hand over his that held the can and his gaze went from your hand, up your arm and finally scouring your face, taking in every detail.

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" You quietly asked, your hand moving to let go of his own but he quickly caught you by your wrist, holding you still for a moment before clearing his throat again and letting you go.

"No, no..just.... distracted, I guess.." He scratched the back of his neck with a shrug, feeling the sweat that had formed on the skin from his lewd thoughts alone.

"Oh, Is everything okay?" You stood closer to him, a comforting hand finding itself onto his shoulder. You rubbed gentle circles onto his tense shoulder with a warm smile on your face.

His grip tightened around the drink and you could hear how the metal crinkled under his hold. You saw how his jaw flexed when he clenched his teeth together and your face twisted to that of worry.

"Megum-" Before you could get your words out the can clunked to the concrete and his large, cold hands were on either side of your face.

"Let me kiss you." He plainly said, his eyes not leaving yours as he waited for an answer. The expression on his face was almost unreadable, and while he waited for your response he moved one of his hands to grasp at your hip, stumbling into you and forcing you to take a few steps back.

You gasped at the feeling of the cold brick wall meeting the wet of your back, your shirt sticking further onto you. You shivered as his thumb found its way under the bottom of your shirt, rubbing small circles into your hip bone. It was then you realized how much he was panting, how flustered and almost...uncomfortable he looked while staring into your eyes.

You slowly nodded to him, your cheeks red as your hand shakily met his own that held your face. He took a step back, giving you room to breathe before he shut his eyes and shook his head.

"Say it out loud, I wanna hear you say it-" He said as his thumb grazed over your lower lip, letting out a shaky breath when you parted your lips to begin speaking.

"Kiss me-" You uttered quietly, and he quickly lurched forwards to you, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands and squishing your lips to his- the hold he had on you almost hurt but your teeth clashing together was a distraction.

You hummed into the kiss, one hand gently cupping his cheek and the other tangled in his dark hair. But after a moment he seemed to become greedier, him trying to lean further into you. You winced as the brick wall scratched against your skin through your damp shirt.

"Gumi- megumi, hey-" You pushed back against his chest to gain some distance between the two of you. He only hummed in acknowledgement, not bothering to look away from your lips- too distracted with how he already missed how they felt on his own.

"What?" His blue eyes flickered from your mouth to your own eyes a few times before settling on that piece of hair that stuck to your forehead, gently brushing it to the side and cupping your red cheek in his palm.

"What's gotten into you? I-I mean I'm not complaining but-" You stuttered a bit, your hand moving to hold his wrist while your hand on his chest messed with his uniform top.

"But?" He quirked an eyebrow at you, his eye twitching as he forced himself to look away from your body and into your eyes.

You watched him shuffle from side to side, almost nervously. He could tell he was beginning to get antsy, the sight of you in front of him (practically pinned to the wall by him, might I add.) made his pants feel all the more tighter.

 He'd never gotten like this before- he hated even kissing in public but now, the thought of taking you right here and now made his mind go feral with all sorts of thoughts- mostly memories of you when you’ve been under him. 

He gulped and rested his head on your shoulder, taking deep, shaky breaths as his hand gripped at your arm.

"But you're not acting like usual. Should I be worried?" You joked slightly, a hand traveling through his dark hair. He shivered when he felt your nails scrub at his scalp, and cringed at how he was acting. 

It was true- he hated whenever he got like this, especially in public, but he just didn't find it in him to care. No, not with how he felt your chest rise when you giggled at him, you finding how he hid his red face in your shoulder cute.

Your giggle was cut off with an unexpected yelp when his teeth nipped at the underside of your jaw, he felt his body tense up at how your breath got caught in your throat.

"fuck-" He mumbled under his breath, pulling away so the two of you could look at eachother eye to eye. He parted your lips with his thumb and sucked in a sharp breath when you pulled the digit between your lips for a moment, your tongue barely sliding over it before softly kissing it.

"Want you-" He cut himself off slightly, groaning inwardly at how desperate he sounded. "Now, preferably." 

He pushed your hips back so they met the wall, his leg sliding in between your knees so you open your legs more- giving him plenty of room to situate his own hips against yours. You took in a deep breath as you felt his bulge pressing against your tummy, your hands reaching up to grab at his broad shoulders to keep yourself feeling steady.

"N-now...? H-here?!" You squeaked out, grip against him tightening. He brought a finger to your lips to quiet you, shushing you gently.

“Can’t if you keep being loud about it, now can we?” He gulped as he puckered your lips together, his tongue wetting his own, now empty feeling, dry lips as he admired the redness in yours.

"Oh, u-um...." You sucked in a breath through your teeth, shivering at how he tugged the collar of your shirt down some to nip at your collar bones.

"Say stop and I will." He held you by the shoulders, his hot breath fanning across your face as he tried his hardest to keep it steady.

"Say stop." He brought one of the hands up to your red hot cheek and melted when you leaned into his palm. You went to shake your head, then realized he wanted verbal conformation again so you took a deep breath, gulped, then spoke.

"don't stop...." He took a deep shaky breath at this and he put his hands up either side of your head, steading himself on the wall he was now pinning you to.

"I don't....have, uh-" He gulped nervously, letting out a breathy- awkward laugh.

"wait-" He moved away from you- apologizing for squishing your hair slightly as he frantically patted himself down, looking for a condom.

At his dejected groan you couldn't help but giggle at his antics.

"It's in my jacket.." He groaned again and rested his forehead against your shoulder. He panted out as you wiggled under his grasp, flat out whimpering when your thigh grazed his painfully hard erection.

"It's okay- we can just go to the store after." You could barely finish speaking before he began kissing you again, pulling back briefly to apologize for not asking.

"please?" He quietly whispered against your flesh, tapping at the backs of your thighs. You quickly got the message and jumped up so he could wrap your legs around his middle, pressing your crotches together for much needed friction.

"fuck me, megumi~" He hissed at your words, moaning quietly into your ear when you reached your hand down to palm him through his uniform pants.

"I-I could go get it hah-" He was cut off by a shaky, quiet moan from your hands sliding under his waistband- squeezing his hard cock through his boxers.

"s' okay megs, want you- I want you.." Your breathing became heavier as he left sloppy kisses against your neck. "Can I take this off..?" He quietly asked, tugging slightly at your top.

You shook your head 'no', yet grabbed his hand and put it under your top- whimpering slightly when he pinched your hardening nipple.

"Don't want anyone but you seeing me-" You watched as he slowly tugged your shirt up a bit, his body hovering over you more to make sure your slightly exposed chest was hidden from any people who might pass by.

"You're so pretty- um, always.." He gulped as he held your shirt up with one hand, bringing his other one to roll and pinch at the hard bud. This drew a long whine out of you.

You shook your head no, denying the fact he had just complemented you, your blush spreading to your ears. You messed with his belt a bit, silently pleading for him to remove them.

He quickly got the hint and hoisted you up further, now supporting you with one strong arm as his other moved to fiddle with his buckle.

“You sure this is oka-“ But before he could finish speaking you kissed him, breaths mixing together, lips surely red and puffy by now.

“please, megumi- I want you, now, preferably!” You repeated his previous words with a laugh and a playful shake of your head. This drew a short half laugh half snort out of him, him shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging to your shorts, eyes wide and pupils blown out as he stared inbetween your legs- waiting for an answer.

“mhm-“ You simply said with a curt nod of your head and he wasted zero time before gently setting you down, tugging at your soft belt to untie it and hastily pulling both your underwear and shorts down in one swift motion.

He grabbed at his own pants, pulling them down just enough so his crotch would be able to be freed-

Megumi looked from his lower half to your own bare one and leaned down slightly so he could easily grasp at the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up so your back was against the wall yet again.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hooked your ankles together behind him, your hole squeezing around nothing as you watched him hiss from the air meeting his cock once he released it from the restricting confines of his boxers

“Um, can I?” He stuttered a bit, cursing under his breath as he gave himself a few, teasingly slow pumps to his length.

“Jesus- stop asking and just fuck me already!”

“Okay, okay-!” He kissed you gently once, watching as he began aligning himself with your entrance. He spread his cock head up and down your wet folds, lubing himself up with your own slick.

“Fuck, please-“ You whined out, your hole clenching around nothing as you tried to lift your hips closer to his.

He adjusted his grasp on you slightly, making sure the position he was in wouldn’t hurt you as he slowly began sliding in. He bit his lip harshly to stop what would’ve been a loud moan as his hips slowly pushed into your own.

“please move- please, megs-“ You gripped at his hair by the nape of his neck, eyes rolling back as he bottomed out. He panted into your shoulder, laying what would surely become purple and red marks later around the base of your neck.

“Just give me one second- just nghh-“ He whined as you bucked your hips into him, beginning to just move on your own as best as you could.

“Hold on, you’re gonna hurt yourself..” He tried his best to reason, but made no move to stop you. In fact, he pulled you closer- lifting one of your knees up higher than the other so he could slowly begin thrusting up into you.

“ahh~ gumi, s’ good-“ Your words were already beginning to become slurred, and he smashed your mouths together to stop moans from escaping the both of you.

This didn’t stop you from trying to speak, though. You swore against his lips, his name falling from your lips that were muffled against his own.

The soft sounds of your hips meeting aggressively every few seconds drove you crazy, anyone passing would know what was going on if they so much as walked by, and this thought only made you clench around him further.

“Good girl, so good for me, a-always..” He moved one of his hands to grasp at your chest from under your shirt and you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the awful noises that threatened to slip past.

“Here, let me just…” He stopped his thrusts for just a few seconds and you practically felt like sobbing from the lack of contact. Sure you’ve done it raw before, but only once or twice- and never in public.

He adjusted you so your legs were wider so one of his hands could easily move to rub at your clit while he began to move again. The moan this pulled out of you was almost animalistic, and he couldn’t help from grunting into your ear, his own noises growing louder as you babbled pleas for who knows what.

“mmm~ wanna cum, I wanna cum, gumi-“ You whimpered out, the grip on his hair tightening as you tugged him closer to you for a kiss. Your lips met sloppily and you could feel how your mixed saliva coated your chin.

“Come on pretty- please, please cum for me pretty girl-“ He whispered into your ear, trying his best to keep his voice steady- though it was hard with his own high approaching. His calloused fingers rubbed faster against your clit and he felt how you tightened around him further, your legs shaking as you slowly went more and more limp in his grasp.

“g’nna cum baby~, gonna cum megumi- nghh~ a-ahh” The only that could pass from your swollen red lips was his name, and his own noises picked up as well as he listened to you beg for him.

“In me, please- gotta get ahh~ hah- gotta go to the store n get plan b anyway. Make it worth it, please megs wanna feel you in me~” You babbled nonsense, your ankles only tightening behind his back as you pulled him in closer to you so he couldn’t pull out.

“gonna cum-“ The both of you said in unison, soft moans and pants filling the corner you two were held up in.

“so pretty, so pretty-“ He mumbled praises, your lips locking together as his hip began to stutter- pace uneven as he thrusted into you. You felt him twitch inside of you, and soon after you felt incredibly warm- his seed filling you up quickly. He was beginning to get overstimulated but didn’t stop his weak thrusts until your back arched off the wall with a cry of his name as you came on his cock.

“fuck-“ You moaned out, your eyes opening as you looked to him with dopey smile on your face.

“Could I, uh, ask what got you so worked up…?” You quietly thanked him as he helped you down, holding you steady as he helped you put your clothes back on.

“I, um..” He scratched the back of his neck before clearing his throat, buckling his belt back up and zipping his zipper. He looked towards you with an almost apologetic expression on his face- borderline embarrassed.

“Just….existing, I guess..” He shrugged and looked away, frowning as he saw the can on the ground. Waste of a perfectly good soda.

You followed his gaze and kissed his hot cheek, ignoring the shine of sweat that coated his face.

“Let me buy you a new one.”

M.LIST♥