#what if there w. were two guys and they were the same guy but different guys (shaking you) what about it what about it

[zxal]

you're just like me

[themyscirah]

Philippus? Wym philippus this is a wholeass other woman?????? She's white?????? Guys come on now

ALSO cursed white Euboea in this same sequence.... homeboy she's Asian please stop

Joe Phillips I'm sorry but this is some shitty ass guest pencilling how can you not know anything abt what these people look like thats literally your job... you also just needed to read the issue before this to know?

Editors should have caught this one these are major Amazon characters

[nyctarian]

fans of wrestler redacted having to hard pivot to claiming aew is as morally bad as anything wwe mcmahon bc their guy is willing to compromise his stated values if they will give him a job is so funny. like you cant be mad at people for believing aew is better morally than vince mcmahons big conservative fundraiser sponsored by mbs when your guy himself has made his reputation on making the point that wwe bad for nearly a decade now. their are bad people at aew too but it is not systemic to the entire company's existence at the highest levels the way it is in wwe.

also since people on twitter are trying to pretend he was a lone voice of trans rights and got forced out bc of that im also gonna note aew had a trans womens world champion when p*nk was still working for fox's wwe backstage.

[boys-and-such]

sometimes i mayhaps would like a boyfriend

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

its currently blowing my mind that the same company (caledan oceanic) identified the deepest shipwreck ever found at that point in 2021 and then in 2022, located and identified an even deeper shipwreck. like imagine identifying the deepest shipwreck ever found twice over

[weezerlvr228]

It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???

NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.

[fairy-angel222]

Everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officers

—in which getting caught stealing with your boyfriend leads to three handsome officers fucking you down at the station.

pairing: officers! gojo s, choso k, nanami k. x fem! reader

cw: smut, face fucking, hair pulling, filming, praise, size difference, belly bulge, fingering.. etc

Your heart raced as you and Toji were stopped in your tracks by a cop car. Attempting to turn around only to be stopped by another swerving in front of you. “Shit. T-Toji? What do we do?”

Watching as a tall, broad officer emerged from the vehicle’s front seat, gulping hard when the blond one’s dark eyes met yours. His face stonic as he stood with his hands in his pockets, letting out a small breath when he looked you up and down.

“Toji?” Turning your head to see your boyfriend long gone, having jumped hurriedly over the hood of the car before sprinting away with the stolen money. You whimpered to yourself, backing up when he began to stalk towards you. Yelping as your back hit a broad chest, arms situating themselves around your waist to steady you. “Careful sweetheart.”

Glancing up through your lashes to see a white haired man looking down at you with a smirk, his eyebrow raised in surprise. “Now what’s a pretty little thing like you stealing for?” he hummed.

And you only looked at your feet after noticing a black haired officer speaking into his walkie talkie about a thief on the loose. Giving a detailed description of your boyfriend. The hold on your waist tightened, and you were flipped around to look up at.. a black blindfold? An idea running through your head to knee him and make a run for it.

“Don’t even think about it. I can still see you.” watching as your eyes welled with tears, your hands gripping at the hem if your shirt. “P-please don’t arrest me. I promise i’ll never do it again.” you pleaded innocently.

The man scoffed, his hand reaching up for your face, his slender fingers digging into your cheeks, “Then tell me, what’re you doing stealing huh?”

“Gojo that’s enough.” A deep voice demanded. Gojo letting go of you with the roll of his eyes. Your body immediately putting some distance between the two of you. Only to be met with the sight of the same blond officer finally making his move. His face void of emotion as his muscles bulged through his shirt. The veins on his hand extra visible when he gripped something on his belt.

Your eyes widened when he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, tilting his head down at you with his tone serious. “You can either cooperate, or i arrest you and bring you down to the station. Your pick.”

The third officer walked up to your shivering form before you could speak. Your body being sandwiched between the two towering men.

“Nanami sir, the male that was with her has been arrested. Although he was able to knock down three of our m-“ He stuttered when he caught sight of you, your glassy eyes practically begging him to tell his friends to let you go. “Uhm- our men sir.” He finished with the clear of his throat.

“Thanks Kamo.” Nanami nodded, looking back to you with a hard stare. “Look, kid. I don’t have all day. We already have your little boyfriend and we can easily take you.”

“Not a kid..” you mumbled. Rough hands making their way to your chin, “You’re really taking us for fools aren’t ya? Take her down to the station.” Nanami commanded, throwing the handcuffs to Choso before he was walking away, getting into the vehicle and driving off.

“Should have just been a good girl and answered me.” Gojo laughed, pushing you over to Choso who did as he was taught, pressing you onto the side of the police vehicle before cuffing your first wrist. Your body twisting and turning making him groan, feeling his dick growing hard in his pants.

“W-wait! I’m sorry! I promise i’m a good girl— not a bad guy. Just please don’t arrest me.” you begged, hearing the click of the cuffs on your second wrist before you were being pushed into the back seat. Gojo looking at you through the rearview mirror. “It’s a bit too late for that don’t you think?” Allowing Choso to sit in the vehicle before speeding off. Some officer.

The whole ride was filled with your tiny sniffles as you asked to be let go in all different ways. Each one being met by a stern no which had you letting out a whine.

“You do a whole lotta talking for my liking.” Gojo sighed, “Makes me wanna fill your mouth with my cock to shut you up.” Smirking when that made you stop with panicked eyes.

When you arrived at the station. You were pulled through a hallway and past a room where you saw Toji. Anger on his face as he attempted to get up, scowling at the snickering officer when he was stopped by two pairs of handcuffs.

You were brought into another room, seeing Nanami already sitting there going through your file, his head turning to you, Gojo and Choso when he heard the slam of the door. “She’s still quiet i see.”

“She actually started talking, told her i’d make her suck my dick if she didn’t stop.” Gojo grinned, Nanami shaking his head as you were brought to sit in front of him. Gojo at your side and Choso leaned against the door.

“So.” The man started, clasping his hands on the desk with a sigh. “I see this isn’t your first time being arrested. Mind telling me why?”

You looked down at the glass top with a shrug, “i don’t know.”

Nanami motioned to Choso and Gojo with a nod. Choso closing the blinds of the stretch of glass connecting the room to the hallway. While Gojo pulled you up effortlessly, taking your place on the chair with you in his lap.

“Let’s try this again, mind telling me why?” You chewed at your lip, ignoring Gojo’s hot breath on your neck. “I did drugs, i drove while drunk when i was 15, i’ve shoplifted many times.” You listed shyly, watching as Nanami nodded along to your words.

“Nnh- ahh” you mewled when two fingers squeezed at your clit through your skirt, your thighs clenching as you shifted on the man’s lap. “God, I could do this all day.” Gojo whispered.

Nanami closed your file and slid it to the side, standing up and making his way in front of you. Stroking his thumb on your lip, “You’re really making things worse for yourself. Want to know what these records show?” He started, your eyes fixated on his body as he unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt.

“They show that you’ve never done anything wrong.” His thumb slipping past your lips, “Show that you’re just a naive soul who covered for her friends and boyfriend on multiple occasions.” Looking up at his eyes through your lashes. “Show that you’re a good girl who trusts too easily.” He finished, watching you whimper underneath Gojo’s touch on your clit as you sucked lightly at his thumb. Your eyes closing with a hum.

“Do you think you’re a good girl baby?”

You nodded, “A very good girl, officer.” you muffled out past his finger, the eye contact never breaking until Gojo spoke. “I think she deserves an apology, doesn’t she?”

Nanami hummed a small yes, removing his finger from your lips and replacing it with his mouth instead. Kissing you softly as his hand reached up to wrap around your neck. Keeping your head steady as you moaned into him, tongues lewdy curling around each other.

Gojo grinned widely. “The fun’s finally getting started.” His eyes falling on Choso who stood red faced in the corner, his dick noticeably hard in his pants as Gojo ushered him over. “Kamo come here.”

Your mind felt fuzzy, wetness pooling between your legs as the large hand around your neck tightened at the sides. Letting out another moan when Gojo’s hand slipped under your skirt, running his fingers along your puffy folds through your panties.

“She’s soaked already.” he announced, chuckling when you mewled at the announcement, your face beginning to heat up.

“And don’t worry that pretty little head about that boyfriend of yours. You’re not the only one he’s been-“

“Gojo..” Nanami warned, his lips still moving against yours. Your heart tightened, eyes threatening to well up with tears as your suspicions were confirmed. Choso’s hand stroked your hair, “Don’t worry about that kay? Just focus on us.”

Gojo’s fingers began rubbing small circles on your clit, tearing your panties off of you when it began getting in his way. Nanami pulled away from your lips with a small smirk, sinking down to his knees in front of you.

Placing your legs onto his shoulders before bringing his face to your dripping cunt. “Make as much noise as you’s like. No one can hear us.”

His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe up your slit. A soft moan escaped your lips when he licked another. “Tastes like fucking heaven.” Gradually increasing his pace until he was lapping at your juices, his skilled tongue feasting on your wetness while Gojo kept up his pace in your swollen clit.

Your head fell back with a mewl, bringing your hands to the blond’s hair but stopped by the metal around your skin. You whimpered, “C-cuffs.”

Gojo groaned into your neck, grinding his clothed cock up into your ass. “Nah, like you better with them on.”

You moaned, back arching against Gojo when Nanami inserted two of his thick fingers into you. Curling them in and out directly onto your spot, your mouth hanging open in a string of cries when he began fucking them into your tightness.

Your noises were cut short by an angry red tip tapping your lips, Choso lightly taking hold of your head to help you sit up. His cock nestled between your parted lips waiting for you to take him in.

“Atta boy.” Gojo mused, watching as Choso pushed his cock further past your lips, a soft gag leaving your throat as he allowed you to adjust to his length. Only half of his cock being able to fit in your snug mouth. Choso moaned, your tongue swirling around his pre cum tip as you suckled on the mushroom head. Beginning to bob your head up and down without the use of your hands to keep you steady, your tongue licking along his vein each time you came back up.

A mewl sounded at the back of your tongue, the noise sending vibrations through Choso’s cock.

Your back arched as a coil built up in your stomach, your trembling legs being held apart by strong hands as your toes curled. Your hips jerking back and forth on Gojo’s lap as the pads of Nanami’s fingers pressed into your g spot. Him holding them in position by simply moving his fingertips on and off.

You cried out loudly around the cock in your mouth, drool running past your swollen lips and down your chin, Gojo leaning to lick it off your skin. “Nnhmf—“ you muffled, your eyes closing as you neared the edge. “ ‘mf closhe.”

The three men watched as your breathing sped up, unable to focus when Choso grabbed hold of your hair and manually fucked his cock down your throat. Careful enough to not hurt you.

You whimpered once more with a choked cry, your body spasming uncontrollably as you squirted onto the blond’s chin. Him groaning into you as he lapped it all up, locking his grip on your thighs when you tried to close your legs around his head.

“Oh hoho, look at her.” Gojo teased, “Can’t stop squirming, think we’re overstiming her. Are we, sweet thing?”

You nodded tearfully, Gojo kissing and biting at your neck while you sucked Choso off. His eyes met Nanami’s, both the men releasing you at the same time making you let out a shaky breath.

“We’re not done with you yet.”

Choso moaned as he neared his release, his abs tensing under his shirt and his cock twitching on your tongue. His head falling back with a loud groan before he was pulling out, fisting his cock roughly then cumming all over your pretty face. The sticky substance falling onto your now exposed chest thanks to Gojo.

Choso’s body quivered lightly as he finished spilling, his face quickly turning red again when he straightened his head to find both his colleagues smirking at him.

Gojo grinned, “Great, my turn.” standing up with you against him, kicking back the chair before bending you over, ready to line his aching cock up with your sopping pussy.

You whimpered when he roughly spread your legs with his knee, your hands still cuffed securely behind your back as your face met cold glass.

Gojo cursed as he eased himself into you. “So fucking tight, shit.” he groaned, fucking sloppily into your pussy with no mercy. His painfully hard cock begging for a release ever since he sat you on his lap.

Gojo’s hand reached up in your hair, pulling you up against him as he slammed into you. Your back arching against his chest with a loud mewl. Gojo watched as your ass bounced with each hit of his hips, your head thrown back onto his chest as you filled the room with high pitched moans.

Your pussy clenched when he brought his hand to your tits, fumbling and groping at the soft flesh before twisting your nipples between your fingers. Pulling out a cry from you at the sensation. Gojo’s pace never slowed its abuse to your tightness. Bullying his cock deeper inside you with a string of grunts.

The sound of skin on skin filled the room, your loud cries mixed with Gojo’s grunts as he tugged at both your nipples and your hair. You could feel his tip grazing into your walls with each of his harsh thrusts onto your ass.

Your breaths getting heavy as you neared yet another orgasm. “Nn—nnhg, f-fuckk.”

“Language.”

You trembled with a scream of pleasure, clenching down on the white haired man’s cock as he breathed into your neck with deep throaty moans.

You let out whimper after whimper, your legs feeling like jelly as your knees buckled. “Hahhh— nng, close. Ah- ‘m close.” feeling the pressure on your gummy spot intensifying greatly. “A-ahh— nnh, cumming,” you mewled, lips parted in whiny noises as you came.

Gojo groaned, “Shit- clenching down so hard on me. Gonna break my fucking cock sweetheart.” his thrusts lacking any rhythm as he too neared his orgasm. “Come on, fuck, give it to me.” he rasped.

Your eyes rolling back as you gripped onto his shirt through your handcuffs. Your short moans matching his thrusts as your pussy gushed messily around him.

“That’s it.” he dragged out, slowing his thrusts until he was pulling out of your drenched cunt. Pushing you down onto your knees by your shoulders, “open.” Stroking his cock lightly when you obeyed and spilling onto your awaiting tongue while watching you swallow. “Good girl.” as he steadied his breathing. “She’s all yours,” he said to Nanami.

Your eyes moving behind the tall man to find Nanami sat on a chair with his cock in hand stroking to the sight. And Choso leaned onto the gray walls with his shirt in between his teeth as he did the same as Nanami.

“Come here.” Nanami husked. And you stood on shaky legs to waddle over to him. Your eyes widening at his massive cock, its girth the size of your wrist and its length the same as your forearm. Noticing your hesitation, Nanami chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

His hands found their way onto your hips as he guided you over his lap. A scared whimper falling past your lips when he lined you up with his rock hardness.

“Look at me. You can take it okay? Just be a good girl and relax.”

You sucked in a deep breath and nodded, wincing loudly as he sunk you down onto his cock. Your pussy aching at the stretch to let him in. “Ahh-“ you cried, small tears escaping your eyes as he bottomed you down onto him. Feeling his tip poking against the skin of your stomach.

“Holy shit.” Gojo whistled, “She’s fucking bulging.”

You mewled, looking down to see the outline of Nanami’s tip in your belly. The large man simply glaring at his colleague who only smirked.

Large hands held onto your ass, whispering soothing praises into your ear as he helped you grind up and down with the rocking of your hips. You began moaning as the pain slowly subsided. Pleasure filling your veins as Nanami made you ride him faster bit by bit. Feeling the veins of his cock grazing your sensitive walls with each movement.

You let out a string of loud cries, your hips arching when Nanami landed a slap to your skin. “You’re a real good girl, you know that? Obeying the men of the law. You’re a perfect one.” He groaned.

Gojo sat on the table behind you, his camera zoomed into the stretch of your pussy from the back. Nanami unknowingly spreading your cheeks to give off an even better view.

Choso’s cock prodded at your lips, his precum smearing onto your lips.

“Kamo. Don’t wanna save that for her pussy?” Gojo questioned, Choso shaking his head no with a desperate moan. “Uh uh, love her mouth too much.” Your lips parting to suck him into your throat with a hum.

Choso groaned, thrusting lightly into your mouth, his length throbbing when your tongue suckled at his tip. Nanami quickened your pace of rutting on his cock. Your noises drowned out by the youngest officer’s cock.

Your pussy clenched impossibly tighter. Creamy white covering his cock from top to bottom. Your pussy creaming his length with your clit being stimulated by its rubbing on the region near his base.

Gojo made sure to capture it all. Choso fucking into your throat and you milking Nanami’s cock. With mic picking up Choso’s moans and Nanami’s deep grunts.

Your body trembled, body filled with heat as you came undone. Whimpers bubbling in your throat and your eyes rolling back. The sound of your cuffs shaking entering your ears when your fists gripped literal air.

“Come on.” Nanami groaned, “Cum for us.”

You let out a silent breathy cry, your pussy spraying its cream filled liquid onto the man’s thighs and pants.

Choso followed not too long after you, finding it in him to force you to take all of him into your mouth with a gag before pumping his cum straight down your throat. Some of his cum spilling messily at the sides of your lips when he removed himself from the warmth.

Nanami rolled you onto him a few more times, his cock twitching within the depths of your cunt before effortlessly lifting you off of him and settling you closer to his knees. Giving his large cock a wrist circling stroke before his cock was releasing spurts of cum into the air and onto your tits and stomach with a dragged out groan.

The three of you panted, Gojo setting down his phone after saving the video to his eyes only then walking over to you with a key to remove your handcuffs. You fell forward as your body went limp, your palms feeling Nanami’s hard chest under his work shirt as you stabilized yourself.

The white haired man pressed a short kiss to your head. “Did so well.”

After helping you get cleaned up, the trio walked you out of the room. A slight limp in your step as you were brought into the main room. There you spotted Toji, who practically charged towards you. Slapping Choso’s hand off your waist and pulling you into his side. “Don’t touch my girl.”

Choso only walked away before giving you a look. And you sucked in a deep breath before you spoke, “Toji-“

“Before you say what you have to say baby, they charged us for robbery.” Kissing you softly on the same spot Gojo did. “Got any money to get us out of this.”

Just as you were about to speak, a voice echoed through the room. “Y/n L/n? You’re free to go.”

You gave Toji a tight lipped smile while scratching at your arm. “Sorry Toji.. i don’t have any. And since i didn’t do anything wrong i don’t see why i should be kept either.”

Toji looked at you in disbelief. A smirk eventually gracing his face. “Didn’t think you had that in ya.” Watching as you were escorted out by a blond officer who didn’t even spare him a glance.

He would have to use his one call on one of his recent flings to pay the fine.

[hyperamore]

DIET PEPSI (R+18)

TEASER.

HEESEUNG plays the part well. He's got the looks and demeanor of the classic fuckboy, so nobody suspected a thing. Until you.

TAGS. university au, one-shot w 8.9k, fem reader, completely consensual, featuring sunghoon

🎧 ⏮ ⏸ ⏭ DIET PEPSI by addison rae.

"Who's the cute guy in the leather jacket with a slight accent? I heard his name starts with an H."

"Him? That's Lee Heeseung. He majors in game design."

You raised your eyebrows in mild interest. Looking at him from afar, he didn't seem to be the type to major in something geeky like game design.

"So he's a nerd."

"Who gets bitches," Sunghoon downs a shot from the bar, subtly shaking his head. He looks at his outfit, then at Heeseung's, and this time, he shakes his head more obviously. "God, I hate him. He's in my programming class."

"How could you hate him? I mean, I totally get it. He's hot, but he's also passionate about something that isn't Elon Musk, or crypto." You say, shot glass hovering over your lips. You continue to stare, cautious as to not get caught, but at the same time, you wanted him to notice you staring.

"How would you know if he isn't passionate about Elon Musk or crypto? Every guy on Earth likes either one by default. It's just universal..." Sunghoon started to drone on about something, but you weren't paying much attention to hear all of it. You were too busy swooning over the way Heeseung laughs, teeth all pearly white. Your heart might have started beating a little faster.

Sunghoon looks at you, looks at Heeseung again, and rolls his eyes. "Jesus you're into him. YN, he's obviously a fuckboy. Which is worse in nerd world."

You tilt your head to the side. "Sounds like jealousy to me."

"I'm not jealous of him," Sunghoon clarifies. "I just don't get it. He's got this bad boy thing going on and it works for him, but when it's a goody-two-shoes nerd, the guy isn't..."

"Gonna get any."

"I didn't say--I'm a hopeless romantic, which is completely different. I don't get any... by choice!" Sunghoon gestured to himself, beige dress shirt clad with a dorky bowtie, tucked in his darker brown slacks held up by suspenders. For a Software Engineering major, he sure breaks the stereotype. Somehow in a worse way.

"Sunghoon, you went to a bar. Dressed like that. That's telling all the girls, 'Stay away if you don't know Shakespeare!'"

"Wrong. I'm trying to attract all the pretty English majors that could pass by--"

"At a bar."

"My point still stands."

"You do know your meet-cute with an English major won't happen in a bar, right?"

"Why not? You're an English major."

You squinted your eyes at his statement.

Sunghoon and you have been friends since highschool. You didn't really think there was anything beyond being friends between the two of you.

Is the attraction there? You're not entirely sure. But fondness is what you would have used to describe what you feel for Sunghoon. Not attraction.

"I knew it, you've been in love with me all this time--" You fake gasp.

"What? No!" Sunghoon fake gags. "I just meant that you're in a bar right now. Who's to say no other English majors come here?"

"I'm the exception Romeo-wannabe. I'm only here for a character study." You finally down your own shot, working up the courage to come up to leather jacket cutie yourself.

"You're gonna be writing about red flag dudes? Seriously?"

"My Creative Writing class professor reads a lot of Colleen Hoover. That's why."

"You don't even like Colleen Hoover."

"Yeah I don't. I do it for the grade."

"This is the failure of humanity. I feel sorry for you," Sunghoon tsks, and gestures to Heeseung again. "So what are you gonna do? Talk to him like some kind of weirdo?"

"What-hey! I'm pretty enough to get guys interested!"

"Yeah, but you're gonna be talking, so that's gonna go downhill from there. Boys like Heeseung will find you intimidating. I do not."

"You're such a pick me--"

"You picked me!"

"Only because you have more than five braincells."

The banter went back and forth for sometime, until you see a girl come up to Heeseung, looking a little annoyed.

You pat Sunghoon's arm, eyeing the two. He turns to where you were looking, and just as he did, Heeseung gets slapped right across his face.

"And the study, begins."

Boy, are you excited to get to know this guy.

Little did you know, you'd do a little more than getting to know him. Literally.

prolly some time mid november lol xoxo vera

[sceletaflores]

all's fair in love and viscera...

pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader wc: 6.7k contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, violence, blood, gore (more so thoughts of gore) nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, fighting as foreplay, bleeding as foreplay, written with X2 logan in mind, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), finger sucking hehehe, light choking, hair pulling, blood play, biting is just another form of sexual penetration guys, scent kink, pain kink, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n. author’s note: i have a rotting note that says "logan spar fic turned face sitting" so that's what this is but it kinda got a little weird lol i also just wanted an excuse to write more about the mutant ability that's been bopping around in my brain since watching season four of the boys. kisses!

logan wants to spar...

You can smell him before he even opens the door to the training room.

It’s funny, because almost all blood smells the exact same. It melds into one coppery, metallic tang that stings your nose everywhere you go.

Mutant blood is only slightly different, something sharper with a tartness that lingers in the air longer, that tingles along the edge of your senses and burns the back of your throat.

Logan's blood is something entirely different.

The first time you met him it almost brought you to your knees. It was so overwhelming, the smell swarming you so intoxicating and all encompassing that it made you feel dizzy.

Logan’s blood is a wild mix of earthy musk and something like charred wood. His scent carries an electric charge, like the smell of air right before a thunderstorm, like ozone after a lightning strike.

It's like nothing you've ever encountered before—hot and acidic, with a barely there underlying sweetness that never fails to turn your insides to liquid. It seems to defy normalcy, bending the rules of what you know about blood and biology.

You know in the back of your mind that it's the adamantium. It's been fused to his skeleton for so long, it must be something chemical. A reaction happening in his body that makes it so distinctly different.

Part of you likes to think that it's just Logan, that the scent is a reflection of everything he is. The raw, untamed essence of his nature, something primal that’s deeply ingrained in his being.

The door creaks open behind you, you make it a point to keep your focus on the punching bag. You've been here for hours, your arms only finally starting to burn with exertion. The bag feels solid and grounding under your taped knuckles, swinging lightly with every hit.

Logan's heavy footsteps get closer and closer, echoing through the empty room until he's striding past you to lean against the wall next to the bag's rig.

You don't look at him, but you can feel his gaze—an intense, almost palpable thing.

“Figured you’d be down here,” Logan's voice is the familiar rough and gravelly rumble you've become used to, cutting through the silence between the two of you with a barely there teasing edge. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Logan has an even better sense of smell than you do, and he can sniff out a lot more than blood. You're sure he knew you were here this whole time, that he could smell you from his room two stories up.

You give a small, noncommittal grunt, ignoring him as you throw another punch. Sweat is dotted across your hairline, it drips down the small of your back and the column of your throat. It's not that you don't like Logan, that you don’t want him here, you have the complete opposite of that problem.

You like Logan too much, more than you should.

Every time he’s near, you’re intensely aware of how much his presence affects you, of the way all the blood in your body starts to sizzle under your skin with a throbbing need that's getting harder and harder to ignore. It’s like a constant, low-grade fever that only flares up when he gets too close. 

“Come on, kid. You can’t ignore me all night,” he says, thick arms crossing over his chest. "Don't make me beg."

You let out a breath, more exasperated than anything else, and finally turn to face him. Logan’s standing there, all broad shoulders and rugged confidence in his white tank and gray sweats, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

That smirk—it's almost as dangerous as the claws hidden just underneath his skin.

“Didn’t know you were the begging type.” Your attempt to sound casual is overpowered by the slight breathy edge of your voice. You blame it on the workout.

Logan's smirk widens just a fraction, and you can tell he's caught the hitch in your voice. His eyes, sharp and knowing, narrow in on you with that familiar mix of amusement and something you can't quite place, something that sends a shiver down your spine.

"Only when I really want something," he replies easily.

Your form falters, just barely, but it’s enough for Logan to notice. You can hear the amused huff he lets out.

You throw another punch at the bag, more to steady yourself than anything else. The impact reverberates through your knuckles, but it doesn't do much to dispel the heat pooling low in your stomach.

"Back to ignoring me?" he asks, needling. You can see the raise of his brow in your peripheral vision.

“Trying to,” you mutter under your breath, though it's more to yourself than to him. You keep your gaze locked firmly on the bag, willing your pulse to steady.

"What's that?" he leans in closer, his scent wafting over to you as he does. Somehow stronger than before, an assault on your senses. You barely conceal a shiver.

"It’s not my fault you’re here when I'm at my least chatty," you retort blandly, a little louder, willing your voice to sound as steady as it can.

"Looks to me like you’re always at your least chatty,” he shoots back, not showing any signs of backing down.

"It's late,” you reply tersely.

"Yeah," he says. "It is late."

The words hang in the air, laced with a double meaning that neither of you acknowledges.

"Too late to be up hounding the bags like they owe you money," he adds, the tone of his voice almost gentle in a way that catches you off guard. Nothing like the Logan you're used to.

“Yeah, well,” you grunt, throwing a particularly sharp jab. “Some of us don’t need all the beauty sleep."

Logan lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, you can feel the vibration of it in your bones. "Funny," he muses to himself, voice going quiet like he's turning your words over in his mind. "I can see why Charles keeps you around."

You huff, sweaty brows knitting together in frustration. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”

“Babysit?” He smirks, clearly amused. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

Your resolve finally cracks, your fists sore when you drop them to your sides and turn to Logan with a questioning look on your face.

"What do you want, Logan?”

It sounds harsher than you meant it, rough and exasperated as you start to catch your breath for the first time since he walked in.

Logan doesn't respond, just pushes off the wall to step closer. His scent hits you like a truck now that your focus is solely on him, you can feel your blood start to thrum under your veins. The sweat dripping down your back feels like it’s igniting the tension in your body, and Logan’s only making it worse the closer he gets.

He stops a little less than a foot away from you. It’s too close, he evades your space until all you can see is him. The width of his shoulders, the strong muscle of his chest and torso filling your view.

Logan doesn't say anything for a few beats, just stares down at you with a studying look on his face. It's a struggle to keep still under the intensity of his gaze. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the rhythmic thud loud in your ears as the silence stretches between you.

He tilts his head to the side slightly, eyes narrowing as he trails them over your sweaty face. You're seconds away from saying something, from turning and running with your tail between your legs, when he beats you to it.

He lets out an amused scoff, shaking his head as he walks past you to the large blue training mat in the middle of the room.

"C'mon," he calls over his shoulder, "Try hitting something that hits back, might help clear your head."

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift, but Logan’s already made his way to the center of the mat, turning to face you with a challenging glint in his eye.

You shake your head slowly, not moving from your place across the room. "I don't want to fight you."

Logan chuckles wryly, “Could’ve fooled me, sweetheart.”

The nickname sends a jolt through you, your pulse skipping in response. It’s always the way he says it—rough around the edges but with a softness that’s almost affectionate. You clench your fists tight, as if the simple act of it will keep your thoughts in check.

"Think you can keep up?" he teases, rolling his shoulders in that casual, self-assured way of his. But there's something in his tone, a challenge that makes you want to prove yourself.

You cast your eyes to the ceiling, exasperated, a bemused laugh bubbling from your chest as you do. "You know I can," you reply, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you. "This isn't about that."

You should just say no. You should say no and go back up to your room so you can go to bed and forget all about this in the morning. You can barely stand to be in the same room with Logan for more than thirty minutes at a time, training with him is too much of a risk.

"What's it about then? You scared?" Logan's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, a playful smirk curling his lips. He raises an eyebrow, daring you to join him.

That does it. A spark of defiance flares in your chest, overriding the nervous tension that’s been building since he walked in. You’re not one to back down from a fight, especially when Logan's practically begging for one.

Without thinking, you stride over to the mat.

Logan watches you approach, his stance relaxed but ready, like a predator sizing up its prey. You try your best to ignore the smug look on his face as you kick off your shoes and join him.

"Not scared," you shrug, running your fingers over the tape on your knuckles. "I just don't need you getting all pissy when I win." You roll your shoulders, shake out your arms, and square up, focusing on the way Logan’s eyes are locked on yours.

Logan's grin widens, a flash of sharp teeth that makes your pulse quicken. "We'll see about that."

You drop into a ready stance, the tension in your muscles coiled tight like a spring. For a moment, neither of you moves, just sizing each other up. The silence between you stretches taut like a bowstring. Your eyes lock onto Logan's, each of you reading the other, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The air between you feels like it's vibrating, charged with a mix of tension, anticipation, and something else—something unspoken, simmering just beneath the surface.

Then, in a blur of motion, Logan makes the first move, just like you expected him to. He lunges, fast and strong, but you're ready for him, sidestepping the blow and bringing your forearm up to deflect his fist away from your body.

"Slow start, old man?" you quip, a sly smile tugging at your lips as you regain your footing. "Speed isn't what it used to be?"

Logan chuckles, a low and throaty sound. "Just warming up, sweetheart. Don't want you crying unfair when I take you down too quick."

You scoff, rolling your eyes dramatically before launching your own attack. You swing a swift roundhouse kick aimed at his midsection. He anticipates the move, catching your ankle with one hand while his other reaches out to grab your wrist.

But you're quicker. Using the momentum, you twist your body and slip free from his grasp, landing lightly back on your feet a few steps away. The brief contact sends a jolt up your leg, his touch searing even through the thick layer of your sweats.

"Stop holding back," you say roughly, your lips turned down in a displeased frown. "Hit me."

Logan's eyes flash with amusement. "Careful what you wish for."

He advances again, this time more aggressive. He throws a combination of punches—left, right, left—each one precise and controlled. You block the first two, but the third grazes past your defenses, skimming your rib cage hard enough to sting.

You hiss softly at the impact but don't back down. Instead, you duck low and sweep your leg out in a wide arc, aiming to knock him off balance. Logan slides back just in time, your foot swiping through empty air as he evades the attack with a kind of brute grace that you wouldn’t expect.

"Getting fancy now?" he remarks, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face.

You don't respond, springing to your feet with a raised fist in a swift uppercut. This time you connect, your knuckles catching his stubbled jaw with a loud 'crack'. Your whole hand throbs, you can feel the break in your thumb snap back together in a sharp pinch.

Logan stumbles back a step, his head snapping to the ceiling with the force of your hit. When he turns back to you, there's a large bruise blooming along the sharp cut of his jaw. You watch the color of it spread across his skin, angry reds and dull purples that fade as fast as they appear.

There's a glint of something dangerous in his eyes as he meets your gaze. The brown of them darker than before, his pupils blown out and glossy in a way you've never seen.

With a low growl, he comes at you again, faster this time. His movements a blur of muscle and intent. You manage to block the first hit, but not the second, his fist catches your side with enough power to make you stumble back a few steps. Pain flares white hot through your ribs, but you grit your teeth and bear it.

You lose yourself in the rhythm of the fight. The world narrows down to the two of you, the sound of your breaths and the feel of his skin brushing against yours in fleeting moments of contact.

There's a thrill in it, in the way you challenge each other, in the way you push past your own boundaries.

But there's also something more, something deeper. Every time your eyes lock, you can feel the electricity between you, the way your heart skips a beat, the way your breath catches in your throat. It's not just about the fight anymore. 

You feel more alive than you have in a long time. More alive with every sting of each new blow, with the way your muscles burn, with the stray hairs that stick to your forehead.

The heat between you is almost tangible, mixing with the sweat and exertion. Every punch, every block, sends a jolt of adrenaline through your system, making it both exhilarating and maddening.

The scent of him—earthy, electric, and utterly intoxicating—growing stronger with every second. Your senses are on high alert, every part of you tuned in to his presence.

It wraps around your whole being, making it hard to think straight. But you don’t need to think—you just move, letting your instincts take over.

Logan feints to the left and uses it to sweep your legs out from under you in the same move he mocked you for. Your back hits the floor with a hard thud, the give of the mat not doing much to soften the hardwood underneath.

All the breath in your lungs rushes out of you in a sharp gasp. Before you can recover, Logan is looming over you. He cages your body under his own, thick arms on either side of your head, his weight pressing you further into the floor. His breath is hot against your ear as he leans in close, his voice a low, almost growling murmur.

"Gotcha."

You try to come up with a witty comment, a snarky line, a petty insult. Anything at all really—but the words catch in your throat. Instead, you just stare up at him, your chest heaving violently, your heart pounding so loud you're sure he can hear it.

The whole room feels like it’s spinning, and for a moment, all you can focus on is the intensity in Logan’s eyes, the heat of him against you.

Suddenly, your entire body feels like it's on fire. Phantom flames lapping at every inch of your skin that send your head reeling quicker than you can blink. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but you've only ever felt it outside of a mission once, and it didn't end well.

For a few heart stopping seconds, you're more than confused. Panic starts to set in at the thought of having another "accident" and not even knowing what's triggering it.

Through the messy haze of your panic, you finally see it. The tiny cut above Logan's brow leaking a thin trail of red down the side of his face.

Everything around you dissolves into static, your eyes zeroing in on that single bead of crimson. The cut's long gone by the time it drips from his jaw to the mat right next to your shoulder. Logan's skin stitching back together and leaving no trace that it was ever broken in the first place, but it doesn't matter.

The damage is already done, and you can feel your body start to react.

You can feel your resolve crumbling, the edges of your self-control fraying with every passing second. Your own blood pulses beneath your skin like liquid fire as your stomach churns and twists. The intense need to feel, to taste, to take claws at your throat.

You let out a low, guttural sound, somewhere between a growl and a whimper, as you lose the last of your control.

Hank had called it a frenzy, but that wasn't a technical term.

"You're not in your right mind. You've essentially been conditioned to react strongly to the scent and sight of blood, particularly when you're already in a heightened emotional or physical state. The combination of adrenaline, exertion, and the scent triggers this...well, this 'frenzy' for lack of a better term."

It's like you blackout, and when you wake up, you're straddling Logan's chest with your hand wrapped around his throat in a vice-like grip. The tan column of his throat glowing red beneath your hand, a map of blue veins inked along his skin like spiderwebs as you watch the blood pulse through them.

Your grip tightens instinctively, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to reign in the storm swirling inside you. Everything narrows down to the pounding in your ears, the blazing heat of Logan's skin under your fingers, and the urge to let go, to give in.

Logan's voice starts to trickle in around the static buzzing in your ears, your name falling from his lips sounds strained, but there's a calmness to it. The fog of your instincts begins to fade, the world around you slowly starting to piece back together.

You blink, the haze in your mind clearing as you try to focus on his face, the way his eyes are locked onto yours. Intense, but not clouded with fear like you expected.

Your chest heaves with every breath, ragged and short like they're being ripped out of your lungs. Your wide eyes dropping to where your hand is still locked around his throat, panic surges in your chest like ice freezing over a lake.

But before you can do anything, Logan's reaching up, his hand catching your wrist in a tight grip. His thumb brushes over your pulse point—the touch sends a jolt through you, as if he’s touched a live wire.

“Don't,” he says, like he knows what you're thinking, his voice a rough whisper. The rasp of it vibrates against your hand. “Don't stop now."

Logan’s other hand comes up to rest on your hips, his touch firm but not forceful. He doesn’t try to wrestle control away from you; instead, he holds you steady. His fingers dig into your skin, grounding you.

“Come on,” he coaxes, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sends a shiver of anticipation through you. “I can take it. Give it to me.”

The world around you blurs, your focus entirely on the man beneath you, the way his body feels under your hands, the way he’s willingly surrendering to your control.

You take a breath, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. You search his eyes, dark and full of want. There's a heat there, a spark that crackles between you, and it only adds fuel to your fire.

If he wants to push, you're ready to push back.

Silently, you slide your hand up the expanse of his throat, feeling the way his pulse beats strong and fast under your palm. The glow under his skin dissipates as you make your way up, tracing your fingers over his jaw and up to his bottom lip.

Logan’s breathing is rapid, his chest rising and falling under you quicker than before. His lips are slick and red, parted so enticingly that you can help but slide your index finger over them. Your nail digs into the fat of his bottom lip, not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to let him feel it.

Logan lets you toy with him, meets your gaze head on as you push further. Your finger presses deeper, pushing past the seam of his lips to feel the warmth of his mouth, the wet glide of his tongue against your skin.

The sharp bite of Logan's teeth pinches your skin as he closes his lips around your finger and sucks.

Your breath catches in your throat, heat blooming in your core as his tongue brushes over the pad of your finger. You can feel the ache of your cunt between your legs, arousal leaking wet and sticky in your panties.

Your other hand rises up to rest on the side of his face, your fingers grazing over his cheekbone. The touch feather-light but filled with a fierce, unspoken energy. Logan’s breath hitches slightly, his eyes darkening even further.

Your palm splays over the skin of his cheek, the heat of his face seeping into your hand. Logan’s eyes close for a moment, his breath coming in shallow bursts as he tilts his head into your touch.

In a quick move, you dig your fingernails into the fat of his cheek roughly. Logan’s body arches under you, his back snapping off the mat with guttural groan ripping from his chest as you pierce his skin.

You gasp at the scent of him wafting up through the air, at the feeling of his teeth digging into your own flesh. His blood leaking onto the tips of your fingers feels like a shock to your system, both electrifying and terrifying.

His skin glows even brighter than before. A mix of reds and oranges that light up just beneath his skin, the blue of his veins like rivers on a map. Your nails dig deeper into his skin, drawing more blood, the warm, sticky liquid coating your fingers. You watch, mesmerized, as the glow under his skin pulses in response, as if feeding off your energy, amplifying the connection between you.

Logan’s breath hitches, his body tensing beneath yours, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into your touch, his eyes dark and hooded with desire.

it takes barely any energy from you. The faintest traces of your power used for something none of those demented scientists in white lab coats intended.

None of that matters. All that matters is the raw, animalistic connection between you—the way his body is responding to your touch, the way his eyes shine with want, the way his blood sings in harmony with yours.

You could boil Logan alive in less than a second, burst every vessel and capillary in his body until he's nothing more than a copper stain on the floor. But his hands only tighten their grip on your waist to drag you impossibly closer.

"More," Logan growls, his voice vibrating against your palm as his teeth sink a little deeper into your finger, the heat of his breath searing against your skin. He hooks his hands under your thighs, dragging your body up his chest until your legs are spread on either side of his head. 

Your hands fly to his hair, steadying yourself with two fist fulls of the brown tufts that sit atop his head. You’ve always been curious if Logan styles his hair this way on purpose, or if it just grows like that naturally. You don't have time to ponder it for long before he's letting out another ragged groan and burying his face between your thighs.

You can feel the heat of his breath over the clothed expanse of your cunt, his nose trailing along the inseam of your sweats as he inhales greedy lungfuls of your scent.

"Logan," you gasp, voice gone high and breathy around the edges.

"Tell me what you want," he says lowly, his lips brushing over you with every word.

It's muffled slightly, but the demand in his tone still sends a shock through you. Your grip on his hair tightens as your mind falls into a whirl of sensations and emotions you couldn't possibly confront.

He presses a heated kiss against the fabric of your sweats, right over where your aching clit pulses with need. The sensation sends an electric jolt straight through your core. Your whole body hums with an intense craving, a need that burns hot and fierce.

"Tell me," he repeats, his voice a rough rasp that vibrates against your core.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as you try to form a coherent thought, let alone speak.

"I want..." you start, your voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and desire. The words are there, lodged in your throat, but saying them out loud feels like crossing a line you’re not sure you’re ready to cross.

"I need you,” you breathe out, the confession slipping from your lips like a secret finally set free “I need everything.”

Logan’s eyes flare with something fierce and wild. Without a word, he pulls you closer, his hands surging up to tear through the fabric of your clothes like it's nothing but tissue paper. The tattered remains of your panties and sweats pool to the floor in a crumpled mess.

The heat of his breath is replaced by the pressure of his mouth, his tongue sliding through the wet slit of your cunt. He lets out a filthy groan at the first real taste of you, the flat of his tongue lapping eagerly through your dripping slit.

The thrill of his mouth against your most sensitive spots sends a jolt through your entire body, your back arching taut as you grip his hair even tighter. Logan’s groan reverberates through you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your core.

Logan is relentless, devouring you like he’s been starving for this, starving for you. The wet sounds of his mouth working you over mix with your breathless whimpers and the low growls rumbling from his chest. He works his tongue expertly, tracing every inch of you, mapping out every spot that makes you tremble and moan.

Your thighs tighten around his head, hips grinding against his face almost unintentionally as heat starts coiling tight in your belly. The scruff of his jaw rubs against the sensitive skin of your thighs with each drag of his head, the sting of it just adds to the assault of pleasure. You wish he could leave his mark on you, wish that your skin wouldn’t work overtime to fix the angry red blotches of raw skin he leaves in his wake.

Logan grips you hard enough that you can see the bruises decorating your skin every time you look down. His arms firm and strong where they’re locked around your thighs to keep you pressed against his mouth. His nose bumps against your throbbing clit each time he fucks his tongue into your leaking cunt.

“Logan,” you moan, your voice a breathy plea that only seems to spur him on. He flicks his tongue over your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a harsh pull that makes you cry out, your whole body shuddering with the intensity of it.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he murmurs against you, the words muffled by the slickness of your folds. “Could eat you all night.”

“Logan, I’m—” you start, but the words catch in your throat as he sucks hard on your clit, sending you careening over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, your entire body convulsing with the force of it as you cry out his name, your nails digging into his scalp as you hold on.

Logan doesn’t stop, doesn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. He licks you through your release, his mouth working you over with a single-minded intensity that has you writhing against him, overstimulated and desperate for more.

“Fuck, Logan, please,” you gasp, not even sure what you’re begging for, just knowing you need something, anything to ease the ache that’s still throbbing deep inside you.

Logan pulls back just enough to look up at you, the bottom of his face slick with your arousal, eyes dark with a hunger that matches your own. He licks his lips, savoring the taste of you.

Logan’s hands slide up your thighs, his touch gentle now but still impossibly firm. He trails his fingers along your skin, tracing the sensitive lines where your skin starts to heal the damage he left behind.

“Still with me?” he asks, his voice is softer than before but there’s still an unmistakable rough edge coating his words.

You nod, your voice barely a whisper as you try to collect yourself. “Yeah...I’m here.”

“Good,” he growls softly, his hands squeezing the sore skin of your hips. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You’re on your back in less than a second, Logan flipping your positions so fast it has your head spinning. His mouth crashes against yours, hot and desperate, all sharp teeth and bruising pressure. 

It’s a kiss that feels like a fight, like a challenge, like a promise of something much darker and more consuming just beneath the surface. His stubble scrapes against your skin, adding to the raw, visceral feeling of it all. Your teeth clack together violently, you can taste the faint coppery tang of blood on his lips. 

You kiss him back just as fiercely, pouring all the pent-up frustration, all the desire, all the fear and anger and need into the contact between you. Your hands are everywhere, clawing at his hair, his shoulders, his back—needing to feel him, to mark him, to claim him as yours in a way that’s as undeniable as the blood pulsing through your veins.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him to fill the ache that’s building inside you. Logan grinds against you, his hard cock still trapped in the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your spit soaked cunt. You can’t help the desperate whimper that escapes your throat. “Please, Logan,” you gasp out against his lips, your voice trembling with need. “Fuck me, I need it, please–.” 

He growls low in his throat, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “You sure you’re ready for this, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice rough, his breath hot against your skin. 

You nod frantically, your hips bucking up against him darkens the fabric tent of his bottoms. He feels huge, heavy and hot where he pushes against your slick folds. “Yes, please, just—” Logan doesn’t let you finish. 

With a swift, almost feral move, he pushes the hem of his sweats down roughly, the sound of seams ripping rings through the room. You barely have time to gasp before he’s pushing his cock into you, stretching you wide, filling you so completely that all you can do is cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he immediately sets a relentless pace. 

You don’t have any time to adjust to the thick length of his cock carving its way inside of you, the sting of it has your eyes screwed shut. It’s only barely straddling the knife's edge of where pain and pleasure meld together, but it has you crying out his name all the same. 

Logan fucking sounds identical to Logan fighting, guttural groans and growls that are ripped from somewhere deep in his chest to pierce through the air between you. That ring in your ears and shake through your very soul like thunder. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grates, his voice thick with lust as he holds himself still for a moment, eyes glued to where you’re stretched around him. The puffy, abused lips of your cunt slick with his spit and the pre-come steadily leaking from his dark red tip. “Feels like heaven, sweetheart.”

You moan, high and loud in the back of your throat as your ankles lock around his lower back. Your heels dig into the skin just above his ass as your cunt trembles around his cock, your spongy walls working over him desperately, milking him. 

“You like that don’t you?” Logan taunts, starting to snap his hips with purpose. “You like getting fucked like this, princess?” He leans down enough to growl directly into your ear, “I can smell how much you want it, how bad you're aching for it." 

He slides his hands up your sides, rough palms gliding over your sweat-slick skin as he continues, "You drive me fucking crazy, sweetheart. I can barely think straight with you on top of me, with your scent all over me. You know what you're doing, don’t you? Getting me all riled up like this."

You can’t respond, can’t speak. You can barely form a coherent thought, your lips falling open in a stream of desperate moans and whines as you bury your face in his neck.

The pulse of his carotid artery under your lips is maddening, each beat of his heart like a drum driving you further into madness. You want to sink your teeth into the skin there, to pull flesh and muscle from bone so you can watch the blood run in rivers and streams down Logan’s body.

The taste of him fresh and heady on your tongue as you watch the layers build back up from nothing, nerves and veins weaving themselves back together grotesquely.

“Fuck,” Logan groans, the sound vibrating through your mouth as you press your lips against his throat, your teeth scraping against his skin with barely restrained hunger.

You nip at his throat, your teeth leaving small indentations that fade almost as quickly as they appear. Logan’s breathing is ragged, his chest heaving with every shallow breath as he leans into your touch, his body taut with anticipation.

"Atta girl, that's it," he growls, voice thick with desire as his hands grip your hips even tighter, nails digging into your skin as he ruts into you like a beast. His hips snapping against yours hard enough to sting, the loud slap of it bouncing off the walls to echo lewdly in your ears.

He’s fucking you like he wants to break you, reinforced hips heavy as he pounds you into the floor mercilessly. “Taking my cock so well, best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You can feel the way Logan’s cock jerks and pulses inside of you, the taut heaviness of his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. You know he’s close, the brutal rhythm of his hips gets sloppier by the second.

You press your body up against his, your chest flush with his own as your hands wander over the hard planes of his back, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his skin. You dig your nails into his shoulder blades roughly, basking in the way his muscles roll and flex underneath your greedy palms.

You can feel the heat radiating from him, the pulsing glow of his blood under your fingertips as you explore every inch of him with a hunger that’s almost feral. 

And then, with a low, guttural sound that you barely recognize as your own, you sink your teeth into his neck.

Logan’s reaction is immediate and visceral. His entire body tenses above you, a sharp hiss escaping his lips as you bite down, hard enough to draw blood. The taste of him floods your mouth, metallic and rich, and it sends a wave of heat crashing through you.

You can feel his blood on your tongue, warm and thick, the taste of it driving you wild. It’s everything you’ve been craving, everything you’ve been trying to resist. And now that you’ve finally given in, it’s like a dam has broken inside you.

Logan’s growl is pure animal, his hips bucking up hard as he thrusts into you one last time, burying his cock as deep in you as he can. The force of his orgasm rips through him, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he unloads inside of you. It’s so much, pulse after pulse of hot come that floods your insides. His hips don’t slow, still pumping and fucking like he’s trying to stuff you as full of himself as he can.

The feeling of it pushes you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing over you in a wave of white-hot pleasure that leaves you gasping and trembling above him. Your shaking cunt gushes over his cock as you swallow the blood pooling on your tongue.

Logan’s hips finally still, slotting flush with yours as he slumps onto the floor next to you, dragging you along with him so you can lay flat on his chest. The coarse hair scattered along his pecs scratches the skin of your cheek, you bury your face in the sweaty crook of his neck. You feel hazy, like you’re floating through the air, completely weightless. 

You think you could live here, plastered to the strong planes of Logan’s body, stuffed full of his cock and leaking his come in messy trails down your shaking thighs. 

But eventually, you have to pull back, your breath coming in short bursts as you lick the blood from your lips. Logan’s eyes are on you, shining under the chandelier light, his chest heaving with the effort of breathing. The wound on his neck is already healing, the skin knitting itself back together, but the blood still stains his skin red, a vivid reminder.

There’s a moment of silence, the air between you thick with tension and something else—something new and unspoken. You’re both panting, bodies still trembling with adrenaline.

Logan’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips, smearing the remnants of his blood across your skin. His eyes are locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.

Finally, he reaches down slowly, like you’re a cornered animal that might turn and run any second. He takes your wrist in his hand, dragging it from the middle of his chest to the muscle directly over his heart. He presses your palm flat against him, blanketing your hand with his own.

“What do you feel,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a breath.

The question catches you off guard. It’s a challenge, but it’s also an invitation—a chance to confront whatever’s swirling inside you instead of running away from it. You hesitate, searching for the right words to encapsulate the storm of emotions you feel thrumming through your bones.

"You," you whisper back, your palm sliding over the sweaty plain of his bare chest. "All I feel is you."

Logan’s eyes soften, and a rare, genuine smile tugs at the corners of his lips. The intensity of the moment seems to dissolve, leaving a quiet understanding between you. He leans in, his breath warm against your cheek, and you can feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a tender caress against your ear. His thumb brushes along your pulse in a feather light touch. “That makes two of us.”

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[luveline]

would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹

You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve. 

“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you. 

“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple. 

“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.” 

You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling. 

“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you. 

You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?” 

“No. They gave me tramadol.” 

Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper. 

Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why. 

The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day. 

“You okay?” 

“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod. 

“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.” 

“I’m your Unit Chief.” 

“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”

He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.” 

You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you. 

You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.” 

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.” 

“I wish I did something that sensible.” 

You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle. 

“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.” 

His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.” 

“Not enough.” 

“No, I guess not.” 

You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder. 

“It wasn’t purposeful.” 

“No? That’s good.” 

“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.” 

“Morgan’s a big boy.” 

“As opposed to me.” 

“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”

“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.” 

“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.” 

Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess. 

“I don’t like him,” you say. 

“As opposed to me.” 

You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek. 

“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say. 

Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.” 

It’s an obvious lie. 

“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested. 

His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully. 

“You can finally get some rest.” 

He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours. 

[scruus]

★ [𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲'𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲]

✎ : power bottom afab Al-Haitham x dom gn amab reader notes: aphrodisiac (in chocolates), dirty talk (very), reader is called daddy, haitham calls himself mommy, overstimulation, mentions of pregnancy(?), creampie, slight degradation, al-haitham being very very slutty

author talks: yea….this happened. Sorry.

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ you right - doja cat

“Okay then, you two lovebirds now have fun~”, Childe’s sheepish grin was the exact reason you adopted the habit of meditation and the path of ‘patience’. Which, by the way, was running at its limit. Not a single giggle or smile was cracked as he continued to humor his own joke and so to save face from further embarrassment, Zhongli dragged him back to their room.

Yanfei picked up her trolley bags, quite easily you noticed, and unlocked the room just opposite yours and Al-Haitham’s. Hu-Tao mumbled something to your boyfriend and his reaction remained the same whatsoever while she was giggling. You two bid goodbyes to the girls as they entered the room whereas you stepped inside your own, setting the bags down on the floor and taking in the room’s wide layout.

The group (mainly Childe) had hastily decided on a quick getaway before university would start and the routine of crying, screaming and chugging down caffeinated drinks till everyone’s body water content changed to dark espresso was to be set in motion. You and al-haitham being the only couple was the target of Childe’s teasing. And it was pure horror when he took the role of booking the hotel rooms without informing anyone. You were sure it would be some love hotel or a shady inn he would put everyone into but what a great surprise it was upon arriving at the place. Cozy, classic and modest.

You stretched your arms and cracked your back, “oof….am like an old granny now”. Haitham plugged both of you guys’ phones to the charger and then skipped to unpacking clothes from the bag like the responsible one in the relationship. “If you just joined me on my early morning walks everyday, you wouldn’t be an old raisin”, you gasped at his response, the cockiness just smoothly rolling from his lips and that gorgeous face of his is so damning you can’t even argue back.

“I am gonna go wash up”, grabbing your clothes from the bag, you threw one last glance at his figure which was hovering over the complimentary snacks counter, before entering the bathroom. They looked a bit different than the usual tea sachets, and chocolates, with the red heart drawn on but you didn’t give them much thought.

That was your biggest mistake.

After getting all clean and smelling like fresh lavender, you decided to take a nap in your bathrobe while Haitham decided to follow after into the washroom. “Honey! Wake me up if we need to go out!”, you shouted from the bed before cozying up inside the warm duvet.

Ah, peace.

With a weird feeling of hotness around your groin and the teasing licks of something wet, you woke up half-asleep from your snooze. Turning your gaze down, you saw Al-Haitham’s lips on your cock. His face looked flushed and the water was still dropping from his wet hair, strands sticking to his forehead.

“H-Haitham?”, you questioned, your voice all groggy yet having the element of surprise. He looked up at you and you felt your breath hitch. His eyes looked different. The composed and intelligent look was now exchanged with that of a hungry desperation. He never once stopped licking your shaft, gliding his tongue up and down while the eye contact was never broken. Plump lips sucking the tip of your thick cock as your nervousness soon drifted to lust.

He took his lips off with a pop yet his hand remained at its place, slowly massaging it up and down while he stared at it breathless. As if he had never seen it before. “W-what are you doing?”, you asked again, slowly. Your hands began to itch. It's like they wanted to force his mouth back on your dick. Make him take it all until his throat bulges. But you wouldn’t do that. You were too nice.

“mmm…I was hungry”, he licked like a kitten at the head, lapping up the pre-cum that was leaking, and it made you clench your jaw. “What?”, you bit your bottom lip trying to stifle a moan. “....was so hungry for daddy’s cock”, he groaned before putting your dick back in his mouth and slurping it up. A choked moan came from you when you heard his words. Daddy?.....DADDY???

Were you dreaming? Was it the end of the world? No, maybe you are still asleep and t-

“Ahmm~’, you whimpered as Haitham suddenly forced your cock inside his throat. You knew it was too big for him that's why you never coerced him to deepthroat you nor did he ever take the initiative, but now? He was whining with your cock stuffed inside him, throat clenching around it as spit dribbled down his chin. Gagging around it like some cockslut with tears welling up in his eyes. “Oh please…I wanted this so bad”, liquid trickled down his chin as he took our cock out all the while moaning in a low whine.

“Honey…wh-whats going on?”, you stretched out your hand and cupped his cheeks, worried that maybe he wasn’t feeling well. He stared at you before nuzzling in your palm, taking a deep whiff of your scent with his eyes closed. Trying to make his body realize your smell and let it wire inside his head. “Fuck….this won’t do”, he stood up on his knees, grumbling. The white bathrobe which was hiding his tanned porcelain body was beginning to shed, a working by his own hands.

“Can you tell me what’s goi-”, your eyes widened in surprise as they trailed down from his face to his cunt the moment the robe dropped down. It was dripping. A swollen clit showing itself off while his inner thighs were coated with slick.

….did he get this wet just by sucking me off?, your face contorted in confusion. Nothing was registering inside your mind.

“hmm…I don’t know”, his voice was soft and low. “I wanted to kiss you all day long”, he looked at you with doe eyes, “but didn’t know how to with everyone present”. His lips slowly formed into a pout, “and…and then I ate that chocolate and…..I felt so hot”, his hands started running down his body as if trying to tell you where it was burning. Chocolates?, you thought. But ho-

You remembered Childe’s winking face and it finally struck you.

Aphrodisiacs. That son of a bitch.

“Ngh~you’re not focusing on me”, he whined like an irate kid, his deep voice suddenly sounding a different pitch. His flushing cheeks now had tears trickling down them just because your eyes had dared to wander away from him. “Nonono Honey!”, you took his hands in yours, oddly happy seeing him like this, “I always focus on you….you’re the only thing I ever see!”. A shy smile popped up on his face and his turquoise eyes sparkled. “Really?”, he asked and you had never nodded so fast in your life. “So then…..do you see how wet this is?”, he pulled his hands back and reached down to his lower part, “do you see that it's so empty and aching so much?”. You gulped, trying to satisfy your parched throat but every inch of your body was hot right now. “I-It really needs your cock inside it”, he mumbled mindlessly, not having any idea about its effect on you.

“Mommy wanted Daddy’s cock all day”, he moaned as he slipped a finger inside his hole, “wanted daddy’s thick cock to stretch this starving cunt out”, his gaze burning a hole into your own as his lips parted open in a soft gasp. Mommy??????

Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod.

Stars. You were seeing literal stars around your room because this was unreal. Your lover, the great al-haitham, who would never beg you for a kiss let alone your cock, who would always judge when you would call him corny nicknames in public is now being filthy?? Is this what aphrodisiacs do? Turn normal people into mindless sluts?

“And now…Mommy has caught daddy”, he suddenly bent down, crawling towards you as his pecs flexed like a pair of tits and you had half a mind to just reach out and grope them. “So daddy will breed mommy like a good cumslut, right?”, his voice was sultry with a hint of patheticness as he positioned himself up.

Your cock was so painfully hard, it was embarrassing. The veins looked like they were about to burst and you were really concerned that it would take you just a second to ejaculate if your lover came anywhere close to your dick. For your boyfriend, it was a different case.

He was looking down at your shaft with hearts in his eyes. Ragged breaths leaving his mouth while a blush crawled up his body. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, in an act of devouring you and your member. Your dick was standing erect and if he lowered himself a bit, the tip would be easily rubbing his pussy folds.

And that’s exactly what he did.

He slowly lowered himself, and the moment your dick touched his wet muscles, he hissed, eyelashes fluttering while his body relished the sensation. Trying to push himself down as your crown forced itself inside his hole, it was clearly too big but the burn felt so good. “F-fuck…..you’re so big”, he cried out once your tip finally settled inside his hole but the entirety was still remaining. Your eye looked at his nipples, all perked and red, and you really wished you could suck on them but you had to be the rational one right now.

His whimpers gained decibels as he worked himself open on your cock, trying to take it all. “Ngh~ my tight pussy just can't take you…hah”, his voice, his face, his pussy, everything was driving you insane. “Fuck it”, you growled as the last thread of reason snapped.

Pulling him down on your cock in an instant, Al-haitham screamed your name. His walls clenching around your throbbing dick as sticky fluids dripped out of him. The poor boy had jolts of shock coursing through his body as the orgasm fired up his nerves. He had already come.

“Look at this whore”, you wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled your trembling boyfriend closer, “I put my dick inside you and you cum immediately?”, the ridges of your dick rubbing along his sensitive insides and out came a meek whimper. The shame felt good to him, like it was something that was so natural. It was the way he was whining, the way his body felt limbless and his cunt so full that made him look all the more perfect for you to ruin. Although he was already mindbroken.

Placing your hands on his butt and groping that tender flesh you growled, “you wanted that cunt of yours to be fucked right?”, your eyes burning with lust, “so get ready”. Grabbing his ass, you made him bounce on your cock while your sobbing lover gasped in surprise. “Oughk- yesyesyes s’big kgghh-”, words slurring and his tongue lolling out. He was completely drunk on your cock and it was fucking wonderful.

“Who’s pretty pussy is this?”, you licked his neck aggressively while he just moaned in response. Angry, your hand left its position at its buttcheek to pinch his clit and Haitham almost felt his soul drive out of his body. “Whose is it!”, your voice sounded a lot more stern and demanding now as Haitham babbled, “yours~ s’yours daddy ugh-”. Truly reduced to a brainless nothing.

Haitham’s walls were contorting to the shape of your pulsing member inside and the pain suited him. All warm, wet and aching, as his gummy walls hugged you in a desperate fervor. He had never felt this good before. Oh, how he wished now to be a free use fleshlight of yours so that you could pick him up anytime and fill his pussy until it's gaping, spilling it all out like a pathetic slut who can’t do a single job. A slut who knows nothing except having his daddy’s cock splitting him open and breeding him.

“S-shit haitham you’re so tight”, you croaked because his gummy walls were clenching down on your shaft all the right ways and it felt heavenly. Fat globs of tears rolled on his cheeks as his guttural pleas of “too much!” and “sho good~” sang in your ears. His hand trailed down to his stomach and he felt your dick bulging through it. Giggling he drooled, “daddy shooo huge”, your eyes scanning his unkempt hair and erotic face while he inched closer to you,”I can feel you all up in my tummy”, he whispered mischeviously. Fuck, this man is gonna be the death of you.

His head jerked back and he howled as you angled your thrust at a spot that made him blank. Hips stuttering and nails digging on your shoulders, you knew he was close. “Bab-oh oh, Im gonna cum”, you moaned before nibbling on his neck then moving to kiss his lips. He moaned into your mouth, chasing after it, the ache between his legs and the tingling sensation on his clit told him he was close too. “Close…m’close ngh”, he keened in a high pitched voice as your rhythm turned erratic, faster and more brutal inside him.

“Insideinsideinsi- cum inside pleashee~”, choked whimpers of relentless begging turned your head dizzy and you complied because there was no way you were missing the chance of filling your boyfriend’s pretty pussy up when he was being so cute. Your palm rubbed against his swollen nub while Al-Haitham felt your tip prodding at the entrance of his cervix, good god you were so deep it was turning his brain into mush. He’d end up getting knocked up by you at this point, an idea Al-Haitham was suddenly getting fond of.

And as you came with a low moan, your hand tightly gripping his waist, your lover felt the burning knot in his abdomen finally fall apart. As the feel of your thick, warm cum rushed inside him, he could feel his eyes roll back and his body convulse in your arms due to the shockwaves. Orgasm so shattering, nothing but croaking gasps left his mouth and he was aware of how his pussy was sucking out every last drop of your seed. A ravenous beast.

Carefully settling his head in the crook of your neck, you looked down below at the white ring around the base of your cock and the few trails of fluid dripping down your cock. Oh god, your eyes widened as the realization hit you, oh god he is gonna kill me. The pleasure felt so good you forgot the consequence of going rough on your lover’s cunt, taking him to poundtown like some madman. But dear lord was it so scandalously good. All the more sinful to commit.

While your brain pondered scenarios as to how you would explain stuff to Haitham or maybe firstly go and kill that ginger in his room, a slight hint of pain erupted in your cock. You thought that maybe it was because Haitham was still wrapped around your length, that it was his hole clenching around you, but you were so wrong. The slow grind of his hips as you felt your soft cock turn hard inside him made you realize your incorrect assumption.

“Wh-what-?”, a finger was pressed on your lips as Haitham looked up to face you. “Mommy is still not done yet”, he whispered as you saw the outline of hearts appearing in his eyes again. “I told you right, you need to turn me into a cumslut”, a sly smirk appeared on his lips, “need to breed me until all I can think of is daddy's fat cock messing up my insides”.

“Get to work”, he instructed.

You silently gulped. Oh this is gonna be a long night.

— – — — – —

“Y’all they are really late, should we go by ourselves?”, Yanfei mumbled angrily. The group was waiting for you two to come out of your room but you both had refused to answer any calls or texts and so the rest were huddled in Childe’s room.

Ding!

“Guys, we won’t be able to go out today, Haitham’s a bit sick”, Zhongli read out your message to the group and they all sighed, maybe with the question that how did he even get sick. All except childe.

“Should we go and check up on h-”,asked Zhongli, “No!”, to which Childe’s abrupt reply silenced all. Everyone looked at him, confused.

“This is a different kind of sickness….you guys won’t get it”, he smiled a knowing smirk, something the others innocent minds had no idea about. He urged everyone to get out of the hotel and enjoy the day along the beach with drinks and food. Just like his two friends who were having the time of their lives, rutting into one another.

[bigwishes]

Big's Perma Bulk!

(Community Requested Story, about me perma bulking) What's good bros! It's your favourite wish granting genie here to go on my own transformation journey. Normally I send this kind of thing off to another writer but a lot of you wanted me to be transformation using my own Genie gifts so I've waved my hands and started it off.

I made sure to completely forget about what you guys wanted for me to make it even more surprising but considering all you lot drool at a bicep vein I think I'm in good hands.

After waking up I definitely didn't have anything to worry about. I knew all of you just wanted me to become some big sweaty himbo. Just take a look.

Big arms, thick thighs and a solid chest. I won't lie if I were to make a choice I would of ended up so much bigger than this but hey, it's what you all wanted to I guess I gotta get used to being a himbo stud.

Woah...I guess day two was a little different. I'm a lot bigger ladz so cheers for that but damn, some of this definition is starting to fade. It looks like I'm sliding more to the tank side of the spectrum that the stud side. I'm pretty sure if I move wrong this tank is gonna split in too and my fucking stomach won't stop rumbling, every time I walk in my kitchen I down half a box of cereal, fuck, I should probably take a couple sandwiches back to my desk before I load up some games with the boys.

'BUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPP'

aw fuck, sorry about that ladz but damn. I woke up this morning and my stomach feels so tight, it feels like my abs are about to split in half. My shorts are so tight around my ass.

Damn what the fuck did you guys wish to happen to me? A slab of muscle instead of abs is one thing but fuck my gut is so bloated, ah man

'UURRRRRRRRRRPP!!!'

whoops, sorry dudes, fuck this is so tight but I still feel hungry, maybe a protein shake and a bowl of rice wont gut, surely this can't get any tighter.

ahhh fuck what time is it? 3am?? why the fuck am I so hungry. I didn't even know it was possible to feel hungry and bloated at the same-

BUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPP

ah man, what do I have in the fridge, mmmmm half a pizza, well I'm sure a couple of slices won't hurt. I hit the gym pretty hard today, its probably my body wanting to fuel up. mmm yeah just 3 maybe 6 slices and I'll be good for the night, probably best to turn the light switch on so I don't make a mess...

w--what the fuck happened to me! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I'M SO FUCKING BULKY, OH FUCK

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPP

DAMN....fuck well....at least it doesn't jiggle, probably just bloated from how much I've been eating recently, who knew having such big muscles would make me so hungry all the time...

hmmm, I probably shouldn't leave just 3 slices of pizza in the fridge on their, own, that's not even a snack, 9 slices is alright at this time of night yeah?

On the bright side, my muscles have continued to blow up to freakish size, my bicep is bigger than most dude's heads. On the other hand....I can't shift this tank around my mid section. I've been trying to eat less to get my abs back but fuck I can't help it, my stomach growls and I gotta eat enough to feed at least 3 people or else it feels like my stomach is gonna eat itself. It's okay, Ill just cut when summer rolls around, use this time to grow as big as I can, bet my abs will look fucking insane in a few months/

Guess the bright side is I can order that nice chocolate cake with my pizza tonight...I'm pretty sure it's cheat night tonight, or was it last night? hmm, no yeah it is definitely tonight?

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

ah fuck, wh- UUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

what happened - uurp - to me?

a few *hic* days ago I was a lean mean lifting machine

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPPPP

and now...fuck *hic* uuurp- I'm a big, bulky brute

fuu-UUUUUUUURPPPP-ck, my gut is so tight, moving feels like a chore....I'm so fuckin stuffed and hungry at the same time. Who knew my fans would want me to blow up into a 300lsb bulky beast...

damn...I need a shower but, I could really go for a double cheese burger and a snickers protein thick shake, I'm sure it can wait -uuurrpp- maybe I should grab a couple protein bars for the road..

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPP!!!!

I can still feel the spell under my skin, I wonder how much bigger these guys will make me, or what else they'll do...

[4unnyr0se]

❥ OHMAMI | hajime iwaizumi

warnings: timeskip! iwaizumi, fem! reader, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hickeys, degradation, manhandling, slight fingering, finger-sucking, riding, oikawa is mentioned a lot tbh, protective and possessive iwa

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 4.9k

a/n: okay i started this in early june and now im finishing it so im sorry if it doesnt make sense aaaa

❥ song: OHMAMI - chase atlantic

Iwaizumi was never the one people thought of when asked who their favorite member of the Aoba Johsai team was. He grew to accept it over time, albeit with spite and anger. Everyone was always wrapped up in what Oikawa was doing, wondering who would be his next girlfriend of the week. It was gross how Oikawa hogged all the girls; how could he be so selfish? Fucking jackass. 

Naturally, it was a relief when he graduated. Sure, Aoba Johsai never went to nationals (and yes, it very much stung), but the memories were important, right? Hitting perfect spike after spike, smacking Oikawa around, hearing that glorious school cheer, Iwaizumi had to admit he would miss it. Not the part where Oikawa kept all the girls to himself. 

Graduation came and went, and so did university. It was a breeze. Sports medicine was not a challenging major; he was just really good at the subject. Another graduation came, and Iwaizumi could only think about you and that pretty, perfect face. You were his closest friend in high school, and sadly, you drifted apart during university. You were studying Japanese literature or something, he didn’t remember. It’s not his fault; he was just too busy getting girls for the first time in a while. Totally not his fault…right?

Iwaizumi wasn’t doing himself any fucking favors, he thought about you too much for his own good. Whether Aoba Johsai lost or how insufferable Oikawa was, you were always there for him. You let him lean against your shoulder and complain about his day, his disheveled and messy uniform giving him an even more thuggish appearance. The way your soft, almost angelic hands massaged his scalp, assuring him that he would be okay.  Oh, how he longed for your fingers in his spiky hair again. He had forgotten your scent, your sweet floral scent. Was it roses or lavender? Maybe lilac? Although all the girls in high school wore the same body sprays, yours was different. Was it because you were never scared of him to begin with? Fuck, he missed you.

He sat on the bench in the empty locker room of the gym he worked at, a hot towel draped around broad shoulders as he began to lose himself in his fond high school memories. Images danced around in his mind of your sweet face smiling at him for the first time, the words “Don’t worry, I’ll help you study for the English test!” leaving your soft lips. At least, Iwaizumi thought they were soft. No, he knew they were soft. God, you were so kind to him. You even ignored Oikawa’s advances towards you, which made him blush and gain so much respect for you in an instant. “Man, I’d really like to punch that guy in his dumb face.” you snickered, covering your bright smile. Iwaizumi swore he could marry you right then and there.

From that moment on, he was your closest friend. You went to all his practices and games, cheering for him when no one else would. “Nice kill, Iwa!” you would shout from the bleachers, proudly wearing a spare version of his jersey. His jersey. If Iwaizumi had no supporters, you were dead. The two of you were inseparable until university rolled around, and Iwaziumi became stupidly popular with the ladies. And sure, college girls were pretty and incredibly loose, but they weren’t you. No one was you, and he missed you every day.

Iwaizumi grunted as he stood up, tossing the towel into a basket. He stepped out of the locker room with his hands in his pockets, whistling a song from his cardio playlist. It was around ten at night, and his gym was one of the few open so late, so there wasn’t anyone there except the front receptionist girl who flirted with every guy who walked in. Truly, he couldn’t ask for better entertainment. 

“Yo,” Iwaizumi leaned across the desk, stealing an electrolyte drink from the employee minifridge. There’s no one here; you should just go home. It’s getting late.” The cool drink touched his lips, the cherry flavoring subtle. “If the boss gives you any crap, you can blame me. I don’t mind.”

The receptionist eagerly stood up and practically ran out the door, throwing her time card at him. “Clock me out!” she shouted halfway out the automatic door. Iwaizumi sighed and shoved the time card in his sweats. She really was a ditz, but at least she got people to sign up for VIP memberships. 

He clocked her out and went to his favorite spot in the gym where he usually deadlifts. Unfortunately, there was no one to spot him. Iwaizumi was a jock, but he certainly wasn’t dumb. There was no way he was dying because he got crushed by a fucking barbell. There is no chance in hell. 

His rough and calloused hands decided just to lift weights instead. That was simpler, more safe. He flipped on his headphones and selected a tune from his more…sensual playlist. It's a sensual indie R&B song that could make anyone feel like a sex god. Why was that song on his playlist? He couldn’t tell you. Once again, Iwaizumi became lost in his thoughts as he lifted the weights up and down with such ease. He worked out for health benefits, but just something about staring at his physique in the mirror made it all worth it. Damn, did he look fine as hell. He was ashamed of how long it took him to realize that he was stupidly attractive, and it took a lot of skill not to develop a massive ego around his looks. 

The automatic doors slid open, the dinging sound drowned out by his noise-canceling headphones. His green eyes locked on the floor mat below him, concentrating on passing the time by any means necessary. He paused briefly when he saw two tiny white sneakers enter his field of vision, standing considerably close to his muscular form. “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, placing the weights on the ground. “Music’s loud, y’know?” His eyes trailed upwards until they finally met your gaze, his pupils shrinking in shock. His hands gripped his headphones, softly filling the room with sensual music. “Holy shit.” Iwaizumi’s mouth was agape. He looked like a fool. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi, Iwa.” you smiled brightly, taking his headphones from his rough hands and placing them around his thick neck. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Three years, I think.” Fuck, he forgot how much smaller your hands were to his own. It’s so cute.

“Three years since university, yeah,” Iwaizumi mumbled, wiping the glistening sweat away from his forehead. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. You don’t look any different. Not that it’s a bad thing!” he stumbled on his words, silently cringing at his immature actions. He never got this flustered. He hasn’t been in a while. Less than a minute talking to you, and he was a stammering mess. This wasn’t like him at all. His tough persona might as well be tossed out the window. 

You offered him another sweet smile and rubbed his shoulder, the sweat not bothering you in the slightest. “Change is a good thing, y’know,” your words were gentle and comforting, oozing with wisdom beyond your years. Another thing Iwaizumi thought was perfect about you was that you always knew the right thing to say. “You’ve changed too. You’re way more buff than the last time we saw each other!”

“Damn right,” he smirked, subtly flexing his biceps. Were you looking? He hoped so. “I’m a personal trainer, so I gotta stay in shape. Plus, I train Oikawa, so whenever I’m pissed off, I just do a couple sets.”

“You still hang out with Oikawa? I thought you hated him.” you raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on your hips quizically. 

“I’m getting paid to tell him what workouts he should do. Can’t complain about that money,” Iwaizumi rubbed the back of his head, fluffing out his spiky hair. “Besides, I’m allowed to kick his ass whenever I want. That asshole deserves it. He somehow got even more cocky after he got back from Argentina.”

You rolled your eyes and found a nearby workout bench, crossing your legs over each other. “I didn’t think Loserkawa could become even more full of himself. You’d think being in a foreign country would humble him slightly.”

“Right?” a deep chuckle escaped his chapped lips as Iwaizumi sat beside you, minding the distance. He bit down on his lower lip slightly, just for a moment. Would you mind if he sat closer to you, like in high school? “He even started speaking Spanish, but he’s not allowed to do that around me.”

“Because you’ll throw a dumbbell at him?”

“Because I’ll throw a dumbbell at him.”

You giggled and scooted closer to Iwaizumi, the scent of sweat mixed with his cologne filling your nostrils. He smelled more mature than in high school, but that’s a given. “I see you’re still the same ol’ spikey-haired guy.” you ruffled his hair, knowing that you were the only one who could do that without getting a beatdown. 

Iwaizumi blushed, averting his eyes from your gaze. Fuck, he really missed your touch. “So, uh, what brings you to the gym? Were you looking for a membership or something?” 

You shook your head, casually wrapping your arm around his shoulder. Were you trying to kill him? “Nah. If I’m being honest, I saw you in one of the windows while I was out for an evening walk. It’s been a while, so I wanted to say hi.” You momentarily looked down at your shoes, a faint blush gracing your cheeks. “Besides, I missed you.”

“You walked here by yourself? At night? Are you crazy?” Iwaizumi shouted, grasping your shirt to pull you closer. “It’s not safe at night. You didn’t have anyone to protect you! Do you know how stupid that sounds?” his nostrils flared, a mixture of anxiety and rage overcoming him. “What if something happened?”

You gasped, your brow furrowing. “Well, excuse me! I didn’t know I needed permission from someone I haven’t spoken to in three years to take a fucking walk!” you ripped his hand away from your shirt. 

Iwaizumi groaned, hanging his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just…” he took a deep breath. “It’s not safe for someone like you at night, and I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because you wanted to see me.” 

You rolled your eyes and pulled his chin up, staring into his oceans of green. “Just because you’re worried about someone doesn’t give you an excuse to be an asshole about it,” you smiled in assurance. “Next time, I’ll bring something to defend myself. Okay?”

Iwaizumi smirked. “You’re the only person allowed to call me an asshole, y’know that? If you were anybody else, I’d beat your skull in.

“Then I’m lucky that I happen to still be Hajime Iwaizumi’s favorite person after all these years,” you bit down on your lower lip. “Unless…you have a girlfriend. Then she’s probably your favorite person.”

“No girlfriend, I don’t have the time,” he shook his head, moving himself closer. “I had a girlfriend before, but then-”

“Oikawa took her from you?” you cut him off.

“Fucking Oikawa took her from me. He dated her for two weeks, then dumped her for someone he met at a bar. Can you believe that?” he clenched his fist.

“Unfortunately, I can,” you gave an exasperated sigh. “I guess Oikawa will always be Oikawa.”

“God help us,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “Hey, I gotta lock up the gym. Can you wait outside, and then I can drive you home?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Why would you be a bother? I’m just keepin' you safe, dummy.” Iwaizumi assured you, getting up and brushing off his pants. “Wait here. I’ll come to get you. I don’t want you standing outside. There’s a lot creeps around here who want nothing more than to get close to a pretty girl like you.” he turned around, not realizing that he had just complimented you. You were left with a brighter blush on your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Did Iwaizumi think you were pretty after all this time?

Eventually, he finished what he needed to do to close up the gym: he wiped down all the machines and ensured everything was organized for the morning shift. He grabbed you by the wrist and practically dragged you out of the gym, having an unusually tight grip.

“Dude, what are you doing? I know how to walk,” you tugged your wrist away from his hand, rubbing it. “You’re acting weird. Did something happen when you were cleaning up? “I just don’t want you to stray too far, that’s all. Keep close to me, or else I might end up killing somebody.” he shoved his hands in the pockets of his sweats, making his way to the car. He was weirdly protective over you, but it only bothered you slightly. 

Having your big, strong best friend wanting nothing more than to keep you safe in a parking lot was…well, it was sexy. Iwaizumi was sexy, and he knew it. You wondered if he knew that you thought so, too. How, when you were in high school, you would daydream about him pinning you against the wall and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. How your mind would wander in college, staring at him from across the dining hall, watching as he unconsciously flexed his biceps in such a way that made you swoon every single time.

With his hand wrapped protectively over your shoulder, he clicked the keyfob and unlocked his car. It was a larger vehicle, boasting proud rims on the tires. “You can get in the passenger seat. I have snacks in the glove compartment if you’re hungry.”

“Since when do you have snacks in the car?” you sat in the passenger seat, buckling up. “That doesn’t seem very healthy, Mr. Personal Trainer.” you giggled, making air quotes. 

He playfully rolled his eyes, getting into the driver's seat. “I have to drive long distances for work sometimes. So, to keep me sane, I keep little snacks in my glove compartment. Granola and crap like that. Protein bars.” 

“Oh, so snacks that aren’t actually snacks?” you winked. 

“Shut up,” he clicked his seatbelt in, revving the car. “Do you wanna choose what we listen to or not? Also, type your address into the GPS while at it.”

“Or I could look through your messages.”

Iwaizumi shot you a glare. “Don’t even joke about that.”

You giggled, typed in your address, and then opened Spotify. “You have a lot of playlists. Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders, flexing the muscles. Fuck, he was so fucking sexy. “I dunno, I guess I just have one for every occasion. When you’re working with Oikawa, music typically helps,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You can pick from any song on any playlist.”

“Then I choose this one,” you selected OHMAMI, handing him back his phone. “It’s from your playlist that has a heart emoji as the title. What’s that for?”

Iwaizumi felt his face become overrun with a blazing blush. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he pulled out of his parking spot, turning the car towards the exit. “Oh, uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“But I wanna know!” you whined, crossing your arms over your chest. “C’mon, we just caught up a second ago, but you never kept any secrets from me.”

He sighed and bit down on his bottom lip. “Fuck, okay. Fine,” he took a deep breath. “It’s…this song is from my sex playlist. Specifically from college.”

Your pupils blew up, your hand immediately flying to your mouth to stifle a chuckle. “You have a sex playlist? And this is a song on it?”

“That’s what I just fucking said, didn’t I?” his face was red and anger and embarrassment. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you!”

“Iwa,” you tapped his thigh. “Sorry for laughing. It’s just that sex playlists are usually romantic and, no offense, but you never seemed like a romantic kind of guy.” 

He furrowed his brow. “I can be romantic, “ he made a sharp left turn. “I just haven’t had a reason to in a while, that’s all.”

“Aw, I’m sorry, man,” you pouted. “I’m sure someone will come along that can make you want to use this playlist again.” you smiled at him, flashing your teeth.

“Yeah, hopefully,” Iwaizumi sighed, stealing a glance at you. You were perfect, absolutely perfect. He was mentally kicking himself for not making a move. But then again, there was a sexy song playing, so the mood was set. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if his hand squeezed your thigh, dancing lower and lower. Maybe you wouldn’t mind at all. 

He continued to drive, the music from the stereo being the only thing to prevent the car from being silent. His mind wandered places: obscene, filthy places. He wondered what noises you would make if he ate your pussy out in the passenger seat. Would you taste as sweet as he imagined? Iwaizumi just knew your pussy was tight, how it would flutter around his cock as he bounced you up and down on it in the backseat, your hand flat against the roof of his car with the music blaring. He was so deep in thought that he neglected to realize the tent growing in his sweats. But you noticed.

Your eyes darted back and forth to his hard-on, squeezing your legs together at the sight. You suspected he was hiding a monster down there, and now you were sure of it. Surprisingly, Iwaizumi never got hard around you before today, at least not to your knowledge. It was like it was calling you to, desperate for your hands to slide up and down.

“Uh, Iwa?” you groaned, crossing your legs over each other. 

“Hm?” he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“You have like…a huge boner right now.” you blushed furiously, cringing to yourself. Could you have chosen a more awkward set of words?

Iwaizumi choked on his breath, swerving the car slightly. He glanced down at his sweats, and lo and behold, he was hard. “O-Oh, fuck. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” he groaned, clenching onto the steering wheel once more.

You squirmed in your seat. “Hey man, don’t worry about it. You can’t control when you get hard, right? S’not a problem.”

He thought for a moment, mumbling under his breath. He canceled the navigation and pulled the car into a parking lot by an abandoned gas station frequented by local teenagers. Luckily, there was no one there right now. “I can’t,” he breathed in, refusing to meet your gaze. “I can’t control it when I’m around you,” he parked the car. “You drive me so fucking crazy.”

You squeezed onto the leather seats, your face still blazing red. “You’re telling me that I made your dick hard?” 

“Yeah, that’s what I just fucking said.” he groaned, unclicking his seatbelt. His eyes finally met yours, full of want. “You made me hard, princess.”

Princess. The nickname rang in your ears. Fuck, it was like hot honey rolling off his chapped lips. “Iwa…” you breathed out, gasping as he tugged on the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. The center console was the only thing that separated you two. 

“Princess,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Ever since you said, you wanted to punch Shittykawa in the face.”

“Really?”

“Really.” his eyes landed on your lips, beautiful and begging to be kissed. “I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. Please,” his hot breath grazed your cheek. “Please tell me that you want me to. But I’m warning you right now,” he kissed your burning skin. “Once you tell me you do, I won’t hold myself back anymore.”

A sensation began to bubble inside your belly, his words causing your core to throb with want. You parted your lips, wetting them with your tongue. “Iwa,” your voice was barely a whisper. “Please, I want you.”

Iwaizumi let go of your shirt, his eyes flaring with passion and lust. “Get in the backseat, now.” he growled, climbing over the center console. You eagerly followed him, finding a spot on his lap. His hands secured themselves on the fat of your hips, making sure you didn’t go anywhere. It's not like you wanted to, anyway. 

“I’ve been waiting for this for so fucking long, princess,” he groaned before slamming his lips against yours in a frenzy. His lips assaulted yours, greedy and shameless. Your mind became TV static, your lips dancing with his as if it was a reflex, as if you had done this a million times before. You moaned into the kiss as he groped you without a care, his hands slipping under the hem of your gym shorts. You gasped as his warm hands wandered, exploring you as if he was attempting to map out your perfect curves.

His hand was scolding hot as it ventured to finger the elastic, ripping the cheap fabric. He swallowed your surprised gasp, smirking into the kiss. “Fuckin’ cheap fabric,” he growled, his hand massaging up and down your panties. “I’ll buy you a new pair, don’t worry, your pretty lil’ head about it.” 

Iwaizumi broke the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck while his fingers continued their gentle dance across your clothed, dripping cunt. The digits ran up and down the soaked material, causing him to shudder. “Fuck, you’re this wet from just a kiss?” he groaned against your neck, the sharpness of his canines grazing the sensitive skin. He could have sworn he could hear your heartbeat coming from the veins. Your pulse was thundering, it was fucking addictive. His lips ventured up and down your delicate neck, leaving wanting, open-mouthed kisses in the spots that made you squirm so beautifully on your lap. His teeth nibbled down on your sweet spot, causing your hips to buck into his hard-on.

“Needy fucking girl,” his voice rumbled, fingers dipping into your panties to toy with your sobbing slit. You whimpered, resting your forehead onto his own as the calloused pads of his thick fingers teased your clit. “Fuck, you’re soaked. D’ya even need me to finger this pussy, or are you such a fucking slut that you’re this wet all the time?” his hands cracked against your ass. “Hm? Talk to me, princess.”

“Only you!” you yelped. Iwaizumi chuckled darkly, lifting his head from your neck to greet you with a blown-out stare. His eyes told you everything you needed to know; they told you that he wanted to fucking ruin you on his cock like he’s been wanting to all these years.

“That’s what I like to fucking hear,” he slapped your ass again, making you gasp and jolt. His lips quickly met yours once more as his finger bullied its way inside your cunt, curling inside without mercy or forgiveness. “Shit, you’re squeezing around my finger. Do you really need to get fucked that fucking bad, hm? Is my girl a little slut?”

“M’not a slut!” you sobbed, tossing your head back. Your hands gripped his muscular shoulders with white-hot-knuckle strength, making Iwaizumi hiss in pain. Not that he was complaining. He fucking loved it.

“Fuck, I can’t take this anymore,” he pulled his finger out of your weeping cunt, licking off your slick. “Ya taste so fucking good, shit,” he groaned, sliding off his sweatpants and boxers so that his cock could spring free. You moaned at the sight, taking in his magnificent length. He was small by no means necessary, boasting a lengthy and girthy cock with an angry red tip that was leaking precum. “Turn around and hover above it.”

You did as he instructed, pushing your ruined panties to the side so your pulsating core was just above his angry cock. His hands snaked around the small of your waist, pulling your flush up against his chest. “You’re gonna be a good fucking slut and let me fuck you on this cock, yeah? If I think you’re being too quiet for even a second,” his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

“Iwa,” your words died on your tongue as his fingers were abruptly shoved into your mouth, making you gag.

“Don’t fucking call me Iwa,” he demanded, his cock teasing your entrance. “It’s Hajime now. Don’t be a dumbass and forget it when I’m breaking you on this cock. Am I clear, pretty girl?”

You nodded, tears swelling in your eyes. His fingers slid out of your mouth and back onto your hips, squeezing the fat. “Be a good little slut and take this cock,” he growled, biting down harshly onto your neck before slamming you onto his cock without mercy, refusing to give your tight pussy anytime to adjust. 

“Oh god, yes,” Iwaizumi moaned against your neck, bouncing you expertly on his length. His eyes were hooded with lust and desire as he looked over your shoulder. The sight of your pussy swallowing his cock was magnificent. Especially how you struggled to take his length, you poor thing. Maybe he’ll be nicer to you next time. “Do you see yourself, princess? That pretty pussy is swallowing me whole. Good fucking girl.”

You writhed and squirmed on his lap, helpless as Iwaizumi used you like a toy. His hands reached around to pull down your top, exposing your bralette to the hot atmosphere. He pulled your bra down as well, shamelessly pinching and squeezing your pillowy mounds as his cock drove itself inside you with reckless abandon. 

“Y’been hiding these perfect tits from me too? Naughty fucking girl,” his hand dropped your breast and smacked your clit, earning a shriek from your bruised lips. “Can’t believe I waited this fucking long to grope these tits, fuck. I wonder what else you’re hiding, hm?” his hips never relented, continuing their rushed and desperate pace in harsh and fast strokes. 

“You look like such a slut right now. God, I wish I could see that pretty face,” he purred against the shell of your ear, licking the cartilage. His praise was so fucking addictive, making you shamelessly clench on his cock. “Oh, y’like when I call you pretty? Get fucking used to it.”

“I’m gonna make you ruin yourself on me,” his voice rasped, the tip of his cock twitching inside of you. “You’re gonna cum all over this fucking cock, and then I’ll cum inside, yeah? No one’s ever gonna fuck this pretty cunt again unless I say so. Until your Hajime says so, okay, princess?” he smacked your clit again, gathering your slick on his fingers. “Who’s the only one that can fuck this pretty pussy?”

“You! It’s yours, Hajime!” you sobbed, the rest of your meaningless rambling dying on your lips as he shoved his fingers inside your mouth once more. Your tongue wrapped around the digits, tasting your delicious slick. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, trying to pull him impossibly deeper inside of you. You were so fucking greedy.

Iwaizumi snarled against your neck, fucking you even harder. His hips continued to snap as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside, the sensation of your pussy doing its best to milk him being all that he needed. “You’re gonna fucking cum, yeah? That’s it, princes, make a fucking mess on me. Get your Hajime all sticky with your cum like a good fucking girl.”

With Iwaizumi’s encouragement, you finally let go. You came with a wanton sob, the bubbles in your belly boiling over to send you crashing over the edge and into oblivion. You could have sworn you saw white. Iwaizumi fucked you through it, whispering sweet nothings as your release coated his cock. 

“Oh, shit,” he groaned into your neck, biting down once more on the bruised skin as his cock twitched one final time, his release spilling inside to fill your cunt up so nicely. “Good fucking girl, take it all.” his hands fell to his hips, slumping against the leather seat.

“Hajime,” you groaned, reluctantly pulling yourself off his cock. His cum ran down your ruined thighs, mixing with your slick. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” you offered him a weak smile, staring at your ripped and forgotten-about jean shorts. “Dammit, you ripped them! These were my favorite pair. And now I don’t have any pants!” you scolded him, hitting him over the head with the fabric. “We’re in a parking lot, and I have no damn pants!”

“Relax,” he sighed, pulling up his pants and boxers. “Did you forget I was driving you home? Besides,” he pecked your lips. “I’m coming over, and we’re gonna cuddle and shit. Whatever you want.” he blushed, not meeting your gaze. He was still scared of you seeing him blush even after you were so intimate.

“Whatever I want?” you teased. “You’re cute when you get all flustered, Hajime.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[myownwholewildworld]

uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer

series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.

a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~4.6k.

tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie

“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.

You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.

The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.

You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.

You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.

That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.

Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.

The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.

“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.

Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.

However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.

“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.

When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.

You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.

“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.

You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.

“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.

His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.

Your mouth watered.

You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.

His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.

“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.

Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.

Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.

“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”

“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.

You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.

“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”

You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.

“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”

“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”

Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.

You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.

That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.

“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?

You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.

“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.

“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.

“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.

Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.

His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.

“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.

You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.

The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.

“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.

You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.

“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.

No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.

His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.

It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.

Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.

Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.

Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.

“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.

You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.

“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.

Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.

Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?

It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.

But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.

His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.

“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.

Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.

Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.

“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.

Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.

So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.

Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.

When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.

You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?

“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.

Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.

“But―”.

“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.

You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.

Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.

You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.

“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.

Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.

You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.

With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.

“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.

Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.

His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.

You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.

Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.

“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.

His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”

You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.

You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.

Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.

“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”

Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.

He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”

You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.

Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.

Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.

Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.

Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.

He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.

“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.

He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.

Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.

He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.

Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.

You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.

You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.

The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.

Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.

“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.

His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.

And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.

You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.

“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.

“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.

“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.

At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.

“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.

You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.

But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.

What had you done?

Well, you had gambled, and you lost.

But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's

A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.

SCENARIO:

"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."

You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.

"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."

You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.

"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."

YANDERE REACTIONS:

Sukuna:

Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?

He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.

He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.

Kento:

Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.

But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.

"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.

Suguru:

"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.

"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?

"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.

"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.

Choso:

Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.

He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.

Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.

He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.

He hates this park.

"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"

Toji:

Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.

No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.

You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.

He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.

Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.

Satoru:

Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.

He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."

Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.

He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.

"Satoru??"

He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.

He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.

"Satoru!"

Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.

Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."

No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your ex boyfriend childe recently found out that you've been seeing another guy lately. // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. jealous! childe, rough & needy, exes missing each other but not admitting it, hinted at a previous toxic relationship between you two, fem! reader ♡

"did he touch you like this?" childe mumbles against your ear as his hand slowly slid over your curves, touching your body.

the impact this brazen question had on you made your body shudder in embarrassment, not only that but you could feel your own blood being forced to frenziedly race through your shape with every new drag of his cock dashing ripples of glee into you.

he knows what he's doing, he's planned this.

the harbinger knows everything apparently, or perhaps he's actually made up an entire different story to what he thought happened on your date.

he cups your cheek and runs his thumb across your bottom lip reverently, "or was he rougher?" slower?" he taunts, and there's an instant jolt of pride up the harbinger's spine when he notices how you're embarrassingly averting his satisfied gaze.

he hasn't lost his grip on you yet, he's sure of it, and he welcomed that you're so easy to read, to the point where you'd choke on a cry consistently, more so when he rushed through that one spot he would never forget to stimulate.

"w-why does it matter?" your words come out quicker than your mind could've properly processed them as you whimper out wetly to him.

you quirk up a brow, feeling a tender hold of confidence aid your frame, "aah— it's not like we're dating anymore or anything,"

that breathy, almost belittling laugh that tumbled over your parted mouth reached his heart, fracturing his vitality.

"we're broken up, ajax, please," you shuffle your arms around his neck before abruptly pulling him towards you, so your lips could brush against his ear shell as you whisper seductively;

"i can fuck whoever i want,"

tilting his head, instead of falling for it, childe confidently cocks a brow before planting a wet kiss on your cheek, "huh? archons, what a mouth you got on yourself," as he spreads, burns and dominates your glistening walls until he's certain you're where he needed you to be— vulnerable to him, perhaps even admitting the truth and stopping your bratty mouth to spill anymore wrongs.

"come on, will you? come on," he laughs manically, his hips jerking hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs as your breasts bounce in tandem with his ruthless thrust, "don't pretend like he'll ever catch up to me, fuck— baby..." he grinds deeper, watching how a nasty ring of white covers the majority of his base.

you roll your eyes but know he's right— because no one could ever unlock the love you've had for ajax before you two had broken up. those rough hands of his were your everything, in comparison to how he used them against his enemies, towards you, he wielded them lightly.

you squeeze and squeeze him, practically telling him that yes, you've missed him so much but no, you're not willing to ever get in a relationship with him again. for that, you've put in too much work already to forget about ajax, the man you loved so unconditionally.

"doesn't matter," your voice echos like a soft whimper as you hug him, desperately wanting to feel how all his inches were painfully throbbing while squeezed by your walls, "we. don't. work." concurrently to his sultry rolls, you pant out a crushing reality.

childe didn't want to hear that, not now, not ever again.

he pushes inside and groans out hot against your ear, before forcing himself to move his hips slower, despite the expanded lust inside of him wanting to slam right into you, fuck— the harbinger was aggravated, frustrated and saddened at the same time. not because of you, yet due to the fact that primarily, it was his fault that things ended on how they did.

a candid confession should never find its way inside of a situation this unrepeatable, "i love you," he whines, his cock plunging with passion as if to emphasize his spelled out words.

your mouth opens instantly for a rebuttal as he swiftly runs a hand down your breasts, pinching your nipples, desperate to swallow up your mewls and keep them stored within him.

foreheads pressed against each other, no words said out loud.

childe regrets everything right now, because you are just his everything, his all.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify