#when his head was just a gorgeous puff ball

[andy-clutterbuck]

SDCC | 2014

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Burgeon

Logan Howlett x Reader Sex Pollen

Summary: Reader works in the science lab at the mutant academy. Trying to grow a new plant from a mutated seed they had found. When the bloom puffs a cloud into her and Logan’s face they both begin feeling strange.

CW: oral m!receiving, oral f!receiving, biting, p in v, creampie

a/n: sorry this took so long to write I was depressed :D also surprise its today

~~~

You rested your head on your hands as you watched the plant in front of you slowly yet rapidly bloom a gorgeous, wine red bud. The way the flower held itself closed mesmerized you. How small bumps decorated the stem and the leaves along it were a dark purple color.

Logan, a.k.a. The Wolverine stood next to you. Piddling with one of the enclosed flora that was under surveillance. Not all that interested in the details of your work, but enjoying spending time with you. Especially when the big blue fur ball was not around to distract you. Dusk was approaching as it shined through the greenhouse windows. A beautiful color painted the sky as the darkness of the night approached.

“Oh, Logan! Look the bud is about to bloom!” You wrapped your arm around his pulling him over to you. He groaned as you pulled him over to you. You watched closely as the petals fought each other to release. Taking their sweet time to reveal the beauty within.

“Sure is taking its time,” Logan huffed, eyes fixated on you now. Loving how happy you looked awaiting the new flowers arrival.

The petals dispersed. Revealing the most beautiful black center of the flower. A large cloud of purple dust coming out with it. Before you could say anything, you and Logan both inhaled the fumes. Covering your mouth and coughing aggressively as the pollen stuck to the inside of your mouth. You wide eyed the plant, shocked at what came out of it.

“What the hell— that thing isn’t poisonous is it?!”

“I… I don’t really know,” you meekly whispered.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean we found this thing, noticed it was displaying some irregular behavior for a seedling of its type. And we decided to monitor it. I didn’t know it was going to cough up smoke at us!”

Logan stamped his foot. Frustrated by the lack of caring on your part. Pacing in a small circle next to you with the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Okay! We just have to stay here for the next 48 hours. Keep us under supervision just in case we feel any side effects. We go about our days like normal, just can’t leave the Academy,” you rubbed your hand up and down your arm. Logan irritably took a seat, head down with his hands folded over his lap. You grabbed the pod and placed it in a holding chamber all of its own. Walking over and kneeling down in front of Logan.

“I’m sorry. If I had known—“ you reached your hand out to rest it on Logan’s leg.

“You don’t have to be sorry. We can forget all about it at the party tonight. Celebrating whatever the hell Charles was on about,” Logan grinned at you.

You smiled, “I’ll celebrate anything if it means free drinks.”

Logan left the greenhouse while you finished up cleaning and double checking everything. A sudden hot flash washed over your body. Pulling a sweat from every inch of you. You fanned your hand in front of your face, your clothes feeling oddly tight suddenly. Maybe someone turned the heat up in the greenhouse. You walked over to check the thermostat. Nothing about the number had changed. As long as it was reading right you were comfortable leaving it be.

Walking up to your room. Heat engulfed you, a minor ache on your body now approaching. Choosing to ignore the problem entirely. Changing into something more comfortable for the evening ahead. Looking at yourself in the mirror when a sudden, promiscuous image flashed in your mind.

Logan.

Behind you. Both of you completely nude as he pounded into you. Watching yourself take him in the mirror. His hands splayed out on your chest, lips on your neck.

Your face flushed with your arousal. Unable to fight the feeling forming deep down inside you. Aching at your core. Leaning over your bed as you writhed.

The feeling of his hands grabbing your hips. Buried completely inside you. Your back arching to meet his thrusts. Head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

You gasped at the thought. Unsure of what was happening to you. Uncontrollably desire was taking over your body. Your hand found your aching core in an attempt to cool yourself down. Scrunching up your face at the feeling. It felt good, but not right. It was not what you needed. You needed him.

Your face was completely flushed with thoughts of Logan. Trying your hardest to make it less noticeable before going downstairs.

“Just stop,” you told yourself.

Heading down to the common area where all your fellow teachers had gathered. An adults only party, all the students were off away. You smiled as you greeted your fellow mutants. Getting stopped by Hank. His warm smile and soft eyes pulling your attention to him.

“Hi, Hank,” you smiled as you walked over to him.

“Hello, beautiful,” Hank grinned, fangs decorating his bright white smile. You thought about how his teeth would feel against your neck. Blushing at the idea of the large monster on top of you. Your thoughts suddenly morphing to fit Logan into your fantasy. Fangs nipping at your skin as strong hands held yours above your head. Panting as he thrusted into you. Sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Everything going good with that mysterious plant of yours?” Hank questioned, breaking your fantasy.

“Uh— Yeah, kinda. It bloomed today but some purple pollen came out it. Not sure if that’ll have any effect on me,” you droned off as you saw Logan enter the room. Completely fixated on him now. Seeing his bulging muscles revealed by his tank top. His broad shoulders and strong brow bone indicating he was some form of frustrated. His eyes finally caught yours. Awkwardly you turned back to focus on Hank as you continued on about the beauty of the mysterious flower. Unable to keep Logan in your peripheral. Excusing yourself from the conversation. Walking into a corner so you could scan the entire room. Unable to spot Logan anywhere.

Muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Almost calming the burn trickling down your nervous system. Nose finding its place in the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale. Your hands meeting those around you, feeling the veins popping out. Smell of musk and cologne overwhelming your senses.

A silent feeling that he understood exactly what you were going through.

“Smells so good,” his gruff, low voice rang in your ear. Your head leaning back against his shoulder, eyes straining to look at him. Black eyes stared at you. Pulling you flush against him, his semi-hard cock pressed into you. Chills ran up you. Rolling your hips to grind against him. A low groan, almost a growl, vibrated against your ear.

Hands inched down closer to the place you ached most. Fingers grazing the sweet spot causing you to arch backwards slightly. Circling your mound as his eyes scanned the room.

“Everyone is in here,” you whispered, a soft moan on your tone.

“I know,” he grumbled, kissing below your ear.

Both of you silently enjoyed the feeling of your bodies pressed together for a moment. How perfectly your body melted to his front. How the smell of him sent goosebumps down your body. The sound of his breathing in your ear pooling inside you.

“Saw you over there with furrball. He not tickling your fancy tonight?” Logan’s fingers dug into your skin, a hint of jealousy on his tone.

“No,” you simply said.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Logan groaned into your ear, “I could smell you from my fucking room. Need to rip these clothes off and get inside you right now.”

You choked on air. Realizing Logan was having the same feelings you were. Unsatisfiable desire.

“Didn’t matter how fucking good my hand felt, wasn’t right. It wasn’t you,” he purred. His fingers danced along the line of your pants, daring to dip under your clothes. Feeling your pantyline against his fingers, the softness of the lace continuing his desire. Your hand met his, intertwining fingers with him. Looking over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Lust blown eyes stared into yours. He plotted an escape route to make sure none of your coworkers watched you slip away together. Grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him.

His touch tingled against your skin. Your sensitive body being thrown into overdrive as you headed down the hallway together. Pulling you into a stairwell and turning to face you. His entire face was red, sweat beaming down his brow. You blushed. Eyes locked together, blown pupils matching each other.

“Dunno if I can wait much longer,” Logan growled as he palmed at himself through his jeans. You fell to your knees instinctively. Tugging at his belt, pulling a deep sigh from him. Releasing his fully erect cock from its confides. It sprung up, tip swollen and leaking. A thick vein wrapped around the underside. You felt your pussy clench around nothing, your mouth salivating at the sight of him. Doed eyes stared up at him, your hand grasping around his member. Lips pressing against the tip in a kiss. Logan moaned at your touch. His fingers tangled in your hair as he guided you down on him. Choking around his girth.

“That’s it,” Logan praised as he lead you up and down on his cock. Hollowing out your cheeks to take him all the way. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, fighting off your urge to gag. Feeling him twitch in your mouth, knowing it would not take long for you to get him there.

Logan’s eyes squinted shut as he finished in your mouth. A grunt as he held you in place. “It’s not enough,” he moaned. Eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at you. Reaching a hand down to help you up, “I need to be inside you.”

His words melted into your core. Igniting a primal feeling in you. You wrapped your hand around Logan’s leading him up the stairs.

“My room’s closer,” you answered the question you knew he was silently asking himself. A grin painted his face as he watched your ass bounce going up the stairs.

Hurriedly typing your code to access your room. Logan’s fingers rubbed circles on your core through your clothes. You arched your back into him, feeling his still completely erect dick. “‘M gonna fuck you so good, doll,” Logan purred in your ear pulling at the button on your pants. You bit your lip finally getting the door open. Logan practically shoved you inside.

Attaching his lips to yours immediately, hands cupping both sides of your face. His tongue penetrating your mouth as your teeth clinked together. You hooked your fingers under his tank top, pulling it over his head. His hairy, muscular chest was completely drenched in sweat. His lips attached onto your neck, tongue coming out to lick a stripe up your sensitive skin. “What’s going on with us?” Logan asked against your skin.

“I’dunno,” you moaned when his teeth grazed a spot you liked, “I just want you.” He smiled at your response.

Logan pushed you onto your back on the bed. Ripping your pants and panties off you. A gasp fell from you. “You’ve got plenty more,” he growled as he kneeled at the side of your bed. Pulling you so that he was directly in front of your core. Soaking the blanket underneath you as arousal took over every sense you had. Logan chuckled as he lapped at your core, “Tastes so good.” You arched your back off the bed at the sudden contact. Pushing yourself closer into his mouth. Furrowing your brows because — GOD — he felt good, but it just was not enough to cool the fire inside you. Grinding yourself against his face trying your damndest to reach your high. Logan latched onto you like an animal devouring his last meal. Fingers digging into your thighs, bruising the soft skin there. Hooded eyes stared up at your face admiring how you scrunched up your nose and hung your mouth open. The soft moans and squeaks pouring from your mouth like music to his ears. He rolled his hips into the side of the mattress, desperate to fuck you. But more desperate to get you off first.

Your nails dug into the soft blanket below you. Riding his tongue through your orgasm. Body jolting and legs shaking. His name a scream on your lips. Logan pulled away, his face soaked in your juices. Dropping his pants to the floor. He stroked himself as he stared at your entrance. Your body still basking in the afterglow of orgasm. Logan pounced on top of you. Gently removing your top, lips finding their place on your exposed breasts. Biting through the fabric of your bra to play with your nipples. Licking and sucking the thin material. His hand pinched at the opposite one. Lips dancing up your neck, biting at your jaw.

Rolling his exposed cock into your soaked entrance. The first bit of relief you had felt all day. A shaky moan escaping you. Logan smirked above you, leaning his head back feeling how your body begged for him. Sliding his member through your slit, collecting all your wetness on him. “My pretty girl,” he praised, “I’m gonna fill you up to the goddamn hilt.”

Easing his way into you. Your walls practically pulling him in. Both of you moaned in harmony, throwing your heads back. “That’s more like it,” he cooed. Easy himself back before slamming back in. Setting himself at a brutal pace. The sound of skin smacking together filled the room. He panted above you, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

You leaned forward to catch him in a kiss, Logan’s body slouching so that your front were pressed firmly together. Curving his arms under you, holding you tight as he fucked into you. A huff of breath falling from him with each snap of hips. He held you close, lips pressed against your neck. An occasional kiss being planted there. “You take cock so well. I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” he growled against your skin.

You clawed at his back. Desperate to hold him closer. Scratching down his body, pulling a moan from him. His pace was growing sloppy as he approached his own high. Your pussy still sensitive from your own. Walls clenching when he’d hit deep inside you. “Gonna be so full of me aren’t you? Little cum slut,” Logan grunted with each of his thrusts.

Logan attached his lips back to yours desperately panting and moaning as he felt himself about to finish. Sheathing himself fully inside you as he shot his seed. The feeling of him soothed the burn you had been feeling. Relieved by how perfectly he filled you up. You felt him grin against your skin, slumping all his body weight into you momentarily.

“Could stay like this all night,” he whispered in your ear. You petted his back, kissing him on the cheek.

“Yeah?”

“That way I can already be inside you when I feel like I gotta soothe the feeling again,” Logan playfully bit at your cheek.

~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I know this fic has been a long time coming so I hope it was a great read! I plan on writing quite a lot for the month of October, so if you have any requests send them my way! My next Logan fic is gonna be a Werewolf!AU //

{tags}

@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @goodness-gracious13 ~ @figsnpassionfruits ~ @gretavankleep37 ~ @shinysam29 ~ @sunnyfranc ~ @savy-luvs-dilfs ~ @ayamenimthiriel ~ @megangovier ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @father-of-2cats ~ @atthediscowithoutpanic ~

[ellecdc]

There are not nearly enough ffs on here where reader sucks Sirius off.

I just know he would sound so GOOOOD!

And he'd look so pretty with his head tilted back hshsbsknshsjsbsjshsbsjshshsjsnen! THIS MAN IS A WORK OF ART!

(If you take requests rn, I'd appreciate it if you solved my problem <3, if not, thanks for listening to me whine.)

mmmmmmmmmmm, I agree

Sirius Black x fem!reader who's very good with her mouth [848 words]

CW: oral (m receiving), nsfw/18+, swearing, no plot...sort of

Sirius only managed to open his eyes and point his face back towards you after you had nearly pierced through the skin of his thighs with your nails.

“Fuck!” He hissed as he raised a shaky hand to push some hair away from your eyes; his face beautifully flushed and chest heaving as he watched you pull off his cock.

“You have to be quiet, Sirius.” You chided gently as you continued stroking him, letting him cool down for a moment as you languidly licked up the underside of his shaft. “You’re going to alert the entire house of what we’re up to here.”

Here being the guest bathroom in James and Lily’s house as you sucked off your slightly tetchy boyfriend. 

Though, you had to admit he seemed far less tetchy now that he was sitting against the edge of the tub with your face hovering around his groin and your hand stroking him slowly. 

“Gotta stop being so bloody good at that then.” He shot back, though his usual haughtiness was significantly dimmed by the fact that his eyes were mostly pupil and he was looking down at you as if you had just completely torn him apart.

How wrong he was though.

“Good at what?” You asked innocently, before taking him back in your mouth and sinking low enough to feel the hairs that trailed down his stomach tickle your nose.

“Ugh, fuck, that! That!” He moaned above you, words melting into a sound bordering a moan and a sob as he placed his hand over yours in apology when you dug your nails back into his thigh at his volume. 

You removed your punishing grip from his thigh and brought your hand to his balls, relishing when they tightened in your grasp and his dick twitched in your mouth. 

“Shit, baby, I-”

You hummed as you carried on in your ministrations, the hand you currently had on his cock speeding up as you removed your mouth and brought it to join that first hand, making sure to give both equal attention before returning to his shaft. 

You watched in wonder as Sirius threw his head back again; his mouth hanging open as puffs of air and the occasional whine escaped his lips, the ones you couldn’t hear punctuated by the bobbing of his throat. 

He was gorgeous, always, but he was so ethereally beautiful like this; unreserved in his pleasure, carefully undone, and completely yours. 

You gave one last tug on his sack before moving both hands to his cock with renewed vigour, both of you ready to finish; you for your now aching jaw and burning knees, and him for having been edged on by you for the past however long you’d been hiding in the loo. 

“Fuck me, baby; holy shit.” He let out breathily, leaning forward and resting his hand on the top of your head. “Jesus Christ, yes.”

His hips started meeting you part way and you let him fuck into your mouth, having to keep yourself from getting too loud at the moans he was eliciting every time his tip hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck, I- I’m gonna-”

So you grabbed both of his wrists and held his hands in their place at the back of your head and relaxed your throat, sinking as far down onto Sirius’ cock as you could and swallowing as he came with a cry.

As quiet a cry as he could muster, at least, which you tried to be thankful for as you finally pulled off of your boyfriend and sat back on your heels, taking a moment to catch your breath. 

“I’m dead, I think I actually died. You killed me, gorgeous, you and that beautiful mouth.” He panted, words teasing but expression screaming torn apart and put back together again. 

Perfect.

“Feeling better?” You asked eventually as you stood - now on shaky legs - and fussed in the mirror, hoping to step out of this bathroom looking as little like your-face-was-just-fucked as possible. 

“I should bloody think so, Christ.” Sirius agreed as he stood - also on shaky legs - and righted the zip and belt on his black washed jeans. 

“Good. Be nice to your brother, then.” You ordered, earning you an indignant groan from Sirius that was all for show as he let his forehead fall against your shoulder.

“But he’s such a tosser.” 

You gave him a warning squeeze of his crotch - still sensitive if his hiss in reaction was anything to go by - and he pretended to relent.

“Fine, fine. I’ll play nice.” He agreed as he smacked a kiss to your cheek.  “Say, you have any siblings you want to squabble with? You know, so I can return the favour?” 

You gave him a sultry look as you helped fix his hair - still pretty well perfect after all that - and stepped back towards the door. “Oh, I have many ways that you can return the favour later, handsome.”

And with a matching smirk, he followed you out of the bathroom to return to the rest of the party.

[solbaby7]

Lose Control

pairing: rhysand x shy!reader

warnings: nothing really, some swearing and the normal amount of thirst that comes with thinking about a particular High Lord naked and wet.

summary: Poor Illyrian baby Rhys who just really needs your hands rubbing his back—in the bathtub.

——

A deep groan pulls you from your crochet, the yarn ball rolling on the floor beneath you as you make easy work of the flower pattern Azriel had taught you a few days prior. “That bad?”

Rhysand nods, shoes scuffing against the floor before collapsing in the couch across from you. “Everything hurts.”

It’s no less embarrassing the second time around how quickly you set your items down, hands smoothing out the less than appropriate fabric of your nightgown when you stand. “I can get a bath going?” You offer softly, fingers crossing delicately before you and Rhysand can’t help the sleepy little smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth at the sight of you, all silky material and socks with fluffy puffs that had little bunnies dangling from them.

“That sounds nice bunny,” He murmurs, finger reaching out to flick at the little puff. “Can you sprinkle some of those little salts of yours in there too?”

“Of course.” You’re gone shortly after, crochet flowers long forgotten on the couch as you rush off to your room to fetch some bath salts, oils and a vial of bubbles. Rhys is still on the couch when you return, shirt off and pants unbuttoned as he laid on his back with one arm draped over his eyes. It takes more effort than you’re willing to admit to tear your gaze away from the hard muscles of his chest, his defined arms and abdomen so chiseled you wondered if the High Lord would ever ask you to massage that part of him too. You shake the thought off as you head to the bathing chambers, gathering large towels and pouring salts that smelled of lemongrass and oranges into the quickly filling tub.

It’s halfway full and beginning to steam when you add the bubbles, a content smile forming when you light scented candles and drag a stool over to hold a two knuckle pour of some expensive whiskey Rhysand kept near his work table. “It’s ready,” You call out, fingers dipping in the bubbly water to test the temperature and when you’re sure it’s perfect, you turn off the faucet, hands drying on the thigh of your nightgown.

He takes a while to enter, shoulders slouching and feet pattering against the marbled floors when he finally does, dark hair hangs on his forehead when he takes in the scene before him. “Bubbles too,” Rhysand murmured in appreciation, blocking you before you leave, a finger raising to bop your nose with a little smile. “Cute.”

The blush that fans across your cheeks is nearly as warm as the water in the giant tub built to fit the large wings Rhys usually kept hidden. You’re out of the room before he can make any comments about your body’s reaction to his words—his fingers touching you, no matter how fleeting it may have been.

You’re settled back into the couch when you hear the High Lord sink into the water, a breathy groan pulling free and your thighs clench together as you busy your hands with the yarn and hook. You don’t get very far, just falling into a rhythm when Rhysand calls out, “Can you come here?”

“What do you need?”

“Come here.” You swear you hear him chuckle when you huff out a breath, tossing your flower aside once more and your steps are a little snappier than usual when you stand near the door. “Inside.”

A pause, fingers twitching at your sides and you hope he can’t hear your heart thudding. It comes out no higher than a whisper, palms clammy at the thought of him—naked and covered by nothing but bubbles and water. “I’m not sure that’s appropriate.”

“Oh?” It comes out a little teasing, door creaking open by dark tendrils of power that urge you closer. “You’d dare deny your High Lord?”

“Well, no but—“ You eyes are trained on the polish of your toes when you’re fully pushed inside, the gorgeous male splayed about in the tub, feet outstretched and arms loosely holding each side but the first thing you really notice are the giant membranous wings peeking out over the edge. “Friends like you and I don’t really make a habit of spending time together in your bathing chambers.”

Rhysand clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, toes playfully splashing at the water. “Like you and I?”

Your nerves build—Rhys always did love riling you up, constantly murmuring some comment about enjoying the way you blush for him, the way you have to completely turn away to compose yourself when he offers flirtatious words in passing. “You’re my High Lord.”

“And you’re one of my closest friends.”

Just friends.

The words repeat themselves in your brain like one of the catchy songs they played in Velaris but every time they reach your ears it feels wrong. “Yes.”

“Exactly and friends help each other, right? You’re just helping.”

Your brows furrow, momentarily recalling when similar words had crossed your mind a week prior when Rhysand had stripped from the waist up and all but demanded you rub his back. “Wait a second—“

The water ripples as Rhysand moves, back muscles contracting as he twists to face you, a brow raised and a lazy smile on handsome features. “Come here bunny,” He beckoned you closer with that same two finger flick, head tilting just a little and even with this being the master bedchambers, the walls felt like they were closing in with each step forward. “Need your hands. Can you do that for me?”

And like a fly buzzing into a spiderweb, you’re caught in his trap.

Rhysand’s fingers curled around the glass left on the stool, tipping the bottom, a motion intended for you to grab the little stool and sit behind him. So, you comply, movements slow and weary as your hands touch the smooth wood and slide it over. The backs of your thighs sink into the smooth surface, shaky hands grabbing at the bar of soap sitting to his right. “What if someone walks in?”

“Let them,” He sighs, knocking back the whiskey with a little groan. “I’m sure Cass and Az are fighting over who gets you next as we speak—they’ve been talking about it all week.”

“Why not just hire someone?” You ask, fingers slick with the soap as you start at his shoulders with slow, kneading motions. “It can’t be healthy to always be so stiff—doesn’t it affect your fighting?”

Rhysand only nods, eyes fluttering shut and face contorting gently when you follow the line of where neck meets shoulder. “You do it much better. Must be because of your tiny little hands.” A noise pulls from his throat when slippery fingers knead away knots and bands of muscle wound so tight, you were unsure how he’d even managed to put his shirt on.

You repeat the motions over and over, fingers tracing over dips and ridges of his back before shifting over to his arms, your hair falling free from its confines to graze over the top of his wing and the sound he lets out is pure sin.

Your hands retract instinctively, soapy fingers slipping against your thighs when you scramble to your feet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Rhysand’s breathing has quickened, chest heaving more than he had been before and the grip he has on the sides of the tub is sure to split the stone in two. “It’s fine—you didn’t hurt me. They’re just sore and it makes them a lot more sensitive than usual.”

Your heart is still pounding a beat faster than usual, hands hanging at your sides, unsure if you were supposed to continue or make your leave.

“Keep going,” Rhys urges, waving the arm you’d been oiling up in the air. “Just go slow.” You obey, hands carefully returning to hard muscle being extra careful when you got close to his wings—even if the noises he’d made from touching them had been branded in your brain for all eternity. “That’s it,” He praises, eyes half-lidded as he sunk deeper into the water.

It’s easy getting lost in the motions when you’re admiring every dip and curve, every scar and the stretch marks that came when growing from a boy to man. You stop once a little snore pulls free, lips parted and features relaxed as your High Lord slept.

The sound of your feet on the glossy floors pulls Az and Cass from their place in the sitting room, brows raised to your sheepish expression. “He feel asleep in the tub and I’m scared he might drown.”

Cassian raised a brow, smirk forming when taking in the soapy hands and the smell of the massage oils before frowning. “You don’t rub me when I’m in the tub.”

“You’ve never asked.”

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Gym Shorts (Discord Drabble)

Eddie secures his black bandanna on his head and licks his lips in anticipation.

He thinks he should probably do some star jumps or something.

That's what jocks do, right? Get all pumped up and possibly too sweaty and exhausted before a game of good ol' fashion Laundry Baskets?

That's right, he's here to... He gulps up at the basketball hoop... Play a round of baskets with Steve.

He glares at the hoop – hanging there all mockingly over his head like the Sword of Fucking Democles as his mind conjures up images of Steve sweating, what usually makes Steve sweat when Eddie has anything to do with it –

" – You ready?"

His opponent sounds rightfully cocky and Eddie remembers his worry, his nerve endings twisting up as his pea-brain melts into a swirling vortex of memories of gym class.

Jocks yelling at him... Coach Summers and that dumb whistle of his (Eddie did tell the asshole where he could shove it on more than one occasion)... The awkward rituals of the locker room – the fine line between trying to keep to himself and not being too isolated and weird about it... Sticking close to Jeff, who at least had the cred of being on the Swim Team...

But those thoughts quickly fall onto the scorching-hot asphalt of the Harrington's driveway when Eddie turns around and is confronted by Steve's shorts.

They are teeny-tiny, like a pair of green hot-pants that have been painted on. Eddie is sure his eyes pop out of his skull and burst into nothingness like he is some sort of Looney Tunes character as he looks down, further down and fully takes in... well...

Steve isn't exactly looking all that modest in these life-ruining, heart-exploding shorts, is the thing.

In fact, Eddie can see the outline of his boyfriend's dick.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" he blurts as his attention snaps back up to Steve's face.

He presses the back of his hand to his clammy forehead, his stupid bandanna doing nothing as the summer heat overwhelms him.

Steve smirks, "Just my gym shorts."

He puffs out his chest, which is covered by an equally form-fitting yellow tank top.

"Oh, really?" Eddie is supposed to sound annoyed, but it comes out a little more like he is gasping for air. He folds his arms and adds, "And you always wear this very ensemble for a casual game of Sporting Ball?"

"Mhmm," Steve nods emphatically, a glint twinkling in his gorgeous brown eyes.

Eddie purses his lips and tucks his balled-up fists in his armpits, folding in on himself as he succumbs to his –

Steve props a hand on his hip and turns around, popping out his ass as he goes. Twirling like a goddamn model and revealing a back view that showcases a bottom sliver of his plump, biteable cheeks.

"Screw this," Eddie splutters, throwing his hands in the air before he launches himself at his partner.

"Huh?" Steve grunts as Eddie crashes into him.

He places his upturned palms square on each cheek with a little smack and squeezes. Steve pushes back into his touch, grinding against him.

"We are going back inside," Eddie whispers through gritted teeth.

"Awww..." Steve tuts, all high-pitched and far too obscene for the great open doors, "Thought you were gonna play baskets with me?"

[toxicanonymity]

Just thinking thots about ThighsOut! doing a thigh work out (like that leg machine where you squeeze your legs inward) and Reader starts groping between his legs and says "say stop." But he doesn't. But also, Reader stops if he stops working out--so the only way to come is for him to keep using the machine even though his inner thighs are turning into jelly. 🙏 you know, just thinkin about it.

gym play.

666 words, Joel x softdom f!reader

Your beautiful, devious mind. He would be a puddle on the floor 🫠🫠🫠

SUMMARY: PWP, 2 scenarios: the one in the ask, and making him cum without touching.

WARNINGS: hand job, "daddy" kink, mild degradation, teasing, coming in pants, coming without touching, exhibitionism depending on the gym? 😳 unedited FIWB.

more of this Joel: thighs out AU

groping him through his workout .

He would be a whimpering mess, barely able to move the machine at all. At some point, you would have to lower the amount of weight for him. You'd go to the weight stack and touch the pin on the machine and look at him like. you can't lift all this? And he's like, "ohhh, fuck, just---yeah, do it, fuck." You take your time getting back behind the seat of the machine, and reach into his lap, and watch the sweat bead and fall down his temple as you slowly massage his hard cock through his mid-thigh shorts. "Had enough?" You offer, but he insists, "no, fuck, just like--" you slip your hand into his waistband, "ohhh yeah, just like that, baby."

You don't take his dick out, but your hand is wrapped around the warm bare skin of his shaft. With your other hand you briefly lift his wife beater and from your angle, you can see the swollen tip against his tummy. You take the precum onto his shaft and put the shirt back down.

He slowly brings his knees together with his cock in your hand. As he spreads his legs again, you cup his balls, moving your wrist hard on his shaft and he moans, then whispers, "God damn, baby." Then when he brings his knees back together you return your hand to massage his shaft and whisper into his neck, "yeah, push it, daddy." He puffs out his cheeks and you stroke him a little faster as his over-fatgued thigh muscles hang on for dear life. Then he groans and lets the weighs drop with a clatter and the cum spurts onto his lower stomach and when you take your hand away, a wet, translucent area spreads on his wifebeater. He tilts his head to look straight up at you and pants, "Tryin' to kill me, baby," then reaches for your neck and pulls you down for a kiss.

putting on a show for him (coregasm).

Another day, you're wearing something really sexy like a sports bra and spandex shorts. Your sports bra gets all sweaty and your nipples are poking out. You stand there at the machine on display for him, touching your glistening body. You jut your chest out and stretch and watch his eyelids fall heavy with lust as he says, "god damn." He has an enormous erection. He stops lifting and says, "c'mere," and you shake your head no. He has a pained look on his face. You cross your arms and assume a less sexy posture until he starts lifting again. "God damn " he pants, "hottest thing i ever seen."

With one hand behind your head, you slowly, lightly drag your other hand's fingers down your neck, over your soaked bra, stopping for your thumb to circle a hard nipple through the fabric, making it even harder, then cupping your breast. He reaches for his crotch and you say, "not today, daddy." He's not allowed to touch himself OR stop his workout, and he's into it. Your hand continues down over your stomach, over your shorts. You sensually rub your groin, the crease of your thigh. You watch the tent in his shorts bounce and wet your lips.

"Ohhhh fuck, you're so damn hot, baby," he breathes as he slowly uses the machine. "God damn, you're gorgeous," his eyes are glued to your hand on your shorts. He's loving every minute of it. You move your hand to your mound and ghost your clit over the fabric. "Throbbing for you, daddy," you whine with puppy dog eyes. He's over-fatgued and getting close. "Turn around 'n lemme see that ass," he begs. You turn around and bend over. He groans "ohh, yeah," still obeying the rules. Then you run your hand up the back of your thigh. He engages his core with his next rep and you say "cum for me daddy," and he cums with a groan in his shorts, untouched, and lets the weights fall.

-----

Ty for reading 🫶 @toxicfics for notifications

[0and0its0doctor0]

Marry me today and everyday

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Warnings: This is so freaking fluffy. No warnings. Listen to the song!

Summary: Spencer has never been more nervous about anything in his life.

Word Count: 585

Spencer paced back and forth in front of the full length mirror nervously. This was going to end in disaster. He could take on the worst people in the world without being as nervous as he was right now. But this? This was making his insides twist in an unpleasant way. What if he messed everything up? There was so much at stake. He ran a hand through his curly hair and let out a huff of a sigh. He looked up when there was a knock on his hotel room door. “Come in.” He paused in his pacing and looked up as David walked into the room. “You okay kid?” He asked and Spencer shook his head. “Not really.” He admitted and David chuckled a little causing Spencer to frown.

“Take it from someone who has done this a few times. You just need to breathe and let things happen. There isn’t much you can control about this situation. Just smile and nod and it will be over before you know it.” David said, trying to calm Spencer down a little. “But what if she says no? What then? All those people. There’s a lot of people out there, Rossi.” Spencer started panicking again. “Kid she said yes already once. I don’t think she is going to let it get this far if she was just going to turn around and say no. But don’t worry the whole team is here to back you up.” He clapped Spencer on the shoulder and pulled him into a hug which Spencer surprisingly reciprocated. 

There was a light breeze that tickled Spencer’s skin and he was attributing that to his goosebumps. Not the fact he was standing in front of dozens of people half of which he didn’t even know. He fidgeted with a small puff ball that he had in his pocket for stimulation. He looked over to see Derek, Aaron and David standing by his side in their tuxedos and he bit his lip.

Derek tapped him reassuringly on the shoulder. “Breathe.” He said quietly. Spencer took in a deep breath and let it out as the music started. He looked up and saw you standing at the end of the aisle in your gorgeous wedding dress and he felt his heart skip a couple beats. His smile grew with every step you took and he felt his cheeks flushing red. “You look amazing.” He said breathlessly as you stepped up next to him. “Thanks. You do too.” You whispered back as the ceremony started. 

You turned to look at him and held your hand out as the officiant spoke. This was it. All he could think about was you saying no and running away. “I do.” You said happily and he felt his heart drop in a good way. “I do.” He replied when it was his turn. He slipped the ring on your finger and quickly wrapped you in his arms so he could kiss you passionately. If Spencer were being perfectly honest he would rather face an armed Unsub than do that a second time. Finally he pulled away from kissing you to gasp and take in a deep breath of air. “Save it for the honeymoon!” Derek called out laughing as you panted. “Shall we Mrs. Reid?” He asked and you giggled. “Of course Mr. Reid.” And you walked down the aisle holding hands. He wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world. You were his now. He couldn’t be happier.

[trashyswitch]

Cozy Snuggles & Cheerful Cackles

Mario, Peach, Luigi and Daisy are walking around the pink, precious snowy area known as Fluff-Puff Peaks. While the others are having a snowball fight, Mario offers Prince Florian a warm spot in his shirt. But Mario quickly begins to regret this when Prince Florian's mischievous side starts to come out...

This fanfic was suggested by my hispanic friend Loody! ¡Espero que estés pasando un día maravilloso! ¡Gracias por las reflexivas palabras! Me ofrecería a traducir toda la historia al español, pero... el traductor de Google no es del todo confiable. Así que me disculpo.

But despite that, I hope you enjoy!

Mario, Peach, Daisy and Luigi were walking around the Fluff-Puff Peaks. It was a wintery landscape with fluffy, pink clouds in the sky. It was absolutely gorgeous to look at. The fluffy clouds reminded him of pink, fluffy sweaters that were meant to keep you warm while you were playing in the snow. Though Mario was used to this amount of snow, seeing the snow mixed with all the pretty pink clouds made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

…Or maybe that was because Prince Florian happened to be snuggled up against his neck…

“You comfy, Florian?” Mario asked. 

“Mm hmm…��� He mumbled softly. 

Mario chuckled at his soft response, and kept walking. Despite the red man being quite underdressed for the cold, Mario was surprisingly comfortable. It was cool for sure, but it didn’t make him chilled. It felt rather nice, actually. 

“Awww…” Peach giggled into her glove and pointed to Florian against his neck. 

“I gotta say, I am having so much trouble finding out who’s Prince Florian’s favorite.” Daisy teased, nudging Peach. 

Mario rolled his eyes at her and looked down at Prince Florian. “You’re just jealous.” Mario teased, looking up at Daisy with a smirk. 

Daisy gasped and huffed. “Jealous?! Why, you little-” Daisy gasped and froze suddenly as she felt something cold hit her on the back. She suddenly looked at the person behind her out of the corner of her eye, and scowled. “Do it again…” She warned, before turning to face her new foe. “I dare you.” 

The green twin smirked and threw another snowball at her, landing it on her chest. Daisy looked down at the snow that now coated her chest, before looking up at Luigi with an evil, mischievous smirk. She picked up some snow and turned it into a ball. “So that’s how it’s gonna be?” She asked, before throwing the snowball at him. 

Luigi covered his face with his arms, stopping the snowball from exploding on his face. He picked up some more snow, and made a snowball. “I challenge you to a duel!” He declared, pointing to her with the snowball in his hand. 

His confidence was quickly rescinded thanks to a single snowball to the chest. “Challenge accepted!” She yelled back, before throwing two snowballs at the exact same time towards him. Luigi squeaked as both the snowballs hit his back. A snowball fight had quickly commenced. 

Mario shook his head with a chuckle at his brother’s mischief. 

Peach giggled with her hand over her mouth. “They’re always getting into trouble.” She reacted. “I’m surprised you’re not joining them.” She admitted. 

Mario pointed to Prince Florian. “No way I’m throwing snowballs if he’s sleeping on me.” Mario told him. 

Peach smiled. “I can take him, if you want.” Peach offered. 

“The prince? Or Luigi?” Mario asked for clarification. 

Peach giggled. “The prince. Then you can take care of Luigi.” She replied. 

Mario waved his hand. “Nah…I’m alright to watch. But you should join in.” Mario encouraged her. 

Peach smirked. “You know what? You’re right.” She replied. She picked up some snow, turned it into a ball and threw it at Daisy. 

Daisy turned around the moment she felt the ball hit her arm. “Finally decided to join in, toadstool?” She asked with a smirk, throwing her snowball up and down like a baseball. 

“You bet, carrot top.” She replied, molding her snow into another ball. 

“CARROT TOP?!” Daisy reacted. 

Luigi snickered a little bit. “Careful calling her that…I made that mistake once, and only once.” Luigi warned. 

While the playful snow fight continued, Mario carefully sat himself down in the snow and watched Prince Florian for a bit. Though he knew the prince would wake up when he heard the commotion, he still found him rather endearing when he was asleep. He was the sweetest, most gentle little wiggler he’d ever met…and he’d come across thousands of wigglers in his lifetime!

Soon, Prince Florian started to wake up. He fluttered his eyes open, and looked up at Mario. “Hi Mario.” He greeted. 

Mario smiled. “Hi Florian. Sleep well?” He asked. 

“Mhm…” He admitted. “It’s getting cold though…” He admitted. 

Mario hummed and unbuttoned his shirt slightly. “Wanna hop in?” He asked, opening his collar slightly. 

Prince Florian widened his eyes and smiled brightly. “R-Really?! Are you sure?” He asked, slightly hesitant. Mario nodded his head. “I’m sure! It’ll be extra warm and cozy there.” Mario told him. 

Prince Florian clapped its hands together. “Okay! Thank you!” He crawled into the collar and down his chest to his heat-radiating belly. 

Mario tensed up and jumped slightly. He anticipated his crawling to be somewhat ticklish, but knew he would stop and curl in a few seconds later. 

From inside, Prince Florian felt like he was being coated with the perfect amount of warmth. “Wow! I see what you mean!” Florian reacted before shoving his face deep into Mario’s belly like a curious dog. 

Mario jumped and let out a full bout of laughter. “eeEK! BAhahahaha! C-Cahahareful, it tickles.” He told him. 

Prince Florian lifted his head up with wide eyes, the red shirt covering his head like a hat. “You’re ticklish?!” Prince Florian asked with excitement dripping from his voice. 

Mario bit his lip. “Yeah, a little. So please be careful.” Mario told him, slightly nervous, but trusting enough to leave him be. Florian was a sweet prince, who most likely wouldn’t tickle him unless given permission…or so, Mario would like to believe. Surely he’ll be careful now, right?

Prince Florian snuggled his face into his belly and made himself still. He couldn’t fully understand how someone could radiate so much warmth…he was like a living campfire! And boy, was it a delight!

But what was more of a delight, was that his human campfire…was very ticklish. And though Mario told him to be careful, he never did say how long he had to be careful for. So by that logic…Prince Florian could be careful for only 10 seconds, before unleashing the ultimate tickle attack on him…and he would still be considered perfectly innocent. 

That sneaky little wiggler…Mario had no clue what was coming…

…That was, until he heard a gasp followed by a surprisingly large raspberry against his belly! 

“eeEEHAAAHAHAHAhahahaha!” Mario’s back flopped to the ground as he held his head with his right hand, letting out surprising bouts of laughter. “HEhehehey! Whahahat ahahare yohou-” Mario gasped as another raspberry filled his ticklish belly. “NAHAHAHahahahahaaa! Ihihi sahahaid behe carefuhuhul!” Mario told him. 

“But I WAS careful!” Florian reacted. “But you never said I had to continue being careful~” Florian reminded him.

Mario’s laughter turned into giggles soon after. “Keheep doing that, and you’ll lose your warm spot.” Mario told him. 

Prince Florian smirked and poked his belly. “You should’ve thought of how ticklish you were, before showing me the warm spot.” He reminded him. 

Mario jumped and chuckled with his right eye closed. “Ihihi thohought yohou'd be cahaharefuhul.” Mario admitted. 

“Well, that was your first mistake.” Prince Florian said with a smirk before blowing another raspberry onto his belly. 

“WaitWAIT-WAAHAHAHAHAHahaha!” Mario cackled, rolling onto his left side and kicking his feet a little bit. “F-FlohorianholdoHOHOOON! eeEEEHEHEEEHEEHEEK!” Mario squealed and giggled, shaking his head and covering his mouth with his right hand while pounding his fist into the snow with his left. 

“Aww, what’s going on over here?” Peach asked, sitting down on the right side of Mario. Apparently their snowball fight had stopped the moment Mario’s laughter filled the air. 

Luigi noticed the bump in his shirt. “Looks like the prince made himself comfy on his belly.” Luigi teased, poking Prince Florian’s back from the outside in. 

Prince Florian jumped and laughed. “I know you’re there, Luigi!” Prince Florian reacted before resuming his tickle attack on Mario.

“Mario’s ticklish?!” Daisy reacted, kneeling down and watching Mario wiggle around in the snow. “How have I never known this?!” Daisy asked next, shocked. 

Peach smirked. “I guess so.” She replied. 

Luigi laughed. “Hey Florian: A little word of advice from his evil twin brother:” Luigi mentioned, looking at Mario. 

His smirk brightened the moment he saw the slight glare that filled Mario’s eyes. “DOHON’T YOU DAHAHARE!” Mario shouted. 

“The left side of his belly is much worse than the right.” Luigi said. 

“LUYOU-GAHAHAhahahaha!” Mario shouted, before falling back into more laughter. 

Peach giggled and poked his right side. “Is that so?” Peach asked. 

Mario jumped. “Peachdohohon’t!” Mario giggled. 

Luigi raised his eyebrow at Peach. “Do you realize you’re poking the wrong side?” Luigi asked. 

Peach smirked. “Yeah. Maybe I wanted to~” She teased. 

Luigi chuckled and looked at Mario’s belly. Just seeing his brother’s belly had immediately helped him remember something. “Oh, I forgot! His belly button’s pretty bad too.” Luigi mentioned. “Dad would always tickle right where his belly button was, anytime he was reaching up to grab something or hold something up.” Luigi added. 

“LU SHUHUHUT UHUP!” Mario shouted. 

“Thanks, Luigi!” Prince Florian took in another deep breath and blew another raspberry specifically on top of his belly button. 

“DOHON’T- HAHAHAHAhahahaha!” Mario cackled, trying not to hug his own belly for fear of squishing the Flower Prince. 

“Taking my advice already?” Luigi asked Prince Florian. 

Prince Florian giggled. “You bet!” He replied proudly. “How did you know!?” He asked next. 

Luigi chuckled. “Eh…Just a hunch.” Luigi mentioned. 

Daisy laughed a bit when she saw how flustered Mario was getting. “His cheeks are almost the same shade as his shirt!” She reacted. 

Luigi chuckled. “Yeah…he gets like that. He was teased about his rosy cheeks all throughout middle school.” Luigi said as he poked Mario’s cheek playfully. “And I believe throughout high school too.” He added.

“Yohohohou’re thehe wohohohorrst!” Mario complained. 

Peach smirked and picked up Mario’s wrists. “How bad are his armpits?” Peach asked, looking over at Luigi. “PeachNO-!” Mario yelled, pulling on his hands.

Luigi snickered. “Not as ticklish, but still pretty good.” He replied eagerly. 

Peach shrugged her shoulders and gently dug her left fingers into his left armpit. “Good enough for me.” 

Mario squeaked and snorted, before giggling a little louder. “Wahahait-HAHAhaha! Nohohohoho!” Mario giggled. 

Luigi hummed and snapped his fingers when he heard the snort. “Right! I forgot to mention too: He also snorts when tickled long enough.” He explained. “Mario turns into a giggly little mess when his armpits are touched or tickled.”

Mario giggled and kicked his feet, tugging on his arms. “Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhuhup! Yohohohou guhuhuhuys suhuhuck!” Mario whined. 

Luigi just chuckled at his brother’s failure to stop him, before poking his vulnerable upper ribs. “Come on, Mario. Is it really that bad?” He asked with a mix of curiosity. 

Mario nodded his head mid-laughing fit. “Yehehehes! Whahahahat dohoho yohou thihihihink!?” He reacted. 

“I don’t know…it doesn’t look ticklish enough.” Luigi teased, before poking his upper ribs again. “Want some help, royal tickle monsters?” Luigi asked. 

Peach looked at Luigi, slightly worried. “I don’t know. I think he’s laughing enough.” Peach admitted. 

“I guess…” Luigi muttered. 

“He could be laughing harder though.” Daisy added. 

Daisy’s words reminded Luigi of something extra. He hummed and looked at Peach and Daisy. “Have you ever heard Mario cackle before?” Luigi asked. 

Daisy gasped. “No, I haven’t! Does he cackle like a witch?!” She asked excitedly. 

“Not quite…” Luigi responded. 

“Aww…” Daisy muttered, disappointed. 

“But he does have an amazing cackle.” Luigi added. “Getting him to snort is pretty good. But getting him to cackle?” Luigi smirked. 

Mario groaned. “LUIHIHIGI SHUT IHIHIHIT!” Mario shouted. 

Luigi snickered at Mario’s outburst. “You get him to cackle, and you will have hit the biggest Mario-themed jackpot known to mankind.” Luigi explained. 

Peach giggled. “That is pretty tempting…” She teased.

“Let’s do it!” Daisy reacted, throwing her fists in the air. “How can I help?” she asked. 

Luigi smiled and got up. “You can tickle him. I’m just gonna watch and give my two-cents.” Luigi told him. 

“Really?” Prince Florian asked, popping his head out from the right, lower side of Mario’s shirt. 

Daisy raised an eyebrow as she went for the other armpit. “You’re giving us all this advice, but you’re not even gonna tickle him yourself?!” She asked, surprised. 

“Nah.” Luigi replied. “Just telling you all that has already earned me a good 30 minutes of tickles. So if I were to tell you all that AND THEN tickle him-” 

“YOHOHOHOU’LL BEHEHEHE DEHEHEAD! YOHOHOU’RE DEHEHEAD!” Mario shouted at him. 

Luigi pointed to Mario. “See? He’s gonna only worsen his punishment on me if I tickle him as well.” Luigi responded to the princesses. 

“But if you’re gonna get tickled anyway…” “FLOHOHOHORIAN-” 

“Don’t interrupt, Mario.” Prince Florian poked his right side, leaving Mario laughing all over again. Then, he looked back at Luigi and continued. “But if you’re gonna get tickled anyway, then why not risk it and help out?” Prince Florian asked. 

“He has a point, Honey.” Daisy replied. 

“There’s no point! You’re so close to getting him to cackle.” Luigi told him. 

“We are?!” Peach asked. 

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE-!” Mario shouted. “IHIHIHI’M GOHOHONNA DIHIHIEEEHEEE!” Mario shouted. 

Florian gasped and snuggled himself back into his red shirt before blowing one more big raspberry onto the left, most ticklish side of his belly. Mario gasped and squealed loudly…“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA-” He laughed loudly, before finally letting out a long bout of cackly laughter. 

“There we go!” Luigi reacted, before clapping his hands and laughing himself. “Yohohohou dihihid ihit!” He added.

Daisy paused her tickling and stared at Mario with shock in her eyes. “Oh wow…He sounds so happy!” She reacted.

Peach had gasped and stopped her own fingers. Slowly, a little warm expression filled her face as she held her chest, almost as if experiencing cuteness overload from his cackles alone. 

Florian had climbed out of Mario’s shirt and was currently clapping his front paws with a big smile on his face. “What a laugh!” He reacted, laughing himself. 

Luigi was smiling brightly, bursting into louder laughter. “Ohoho mygod…” He hung his head and held his knees as he let out another bout of laughter. “His laugh is the best…” He muttered to himself mid-giggle, rubbing a tear from his eye before bursting into another fit of laughter. 

“I’ll say! I love it!” Prince Florian reacted.

Daisy was looking at Luigi, poking his cheek. “Oho my gosh! I didn’t know the jackpot included some squeegee giggles!” Daisy reacted. 

Luigi squeaked as his cheeks grew red in mere seconds. “Dahahaisy shush!” Luigi reacted, pushing against her cheek.

Daisy just laughed at his reaction. “Cutie~” She teased, poking the side of his temple gently.

Luigi calmed his laughter down, before looking down with a flustered little pouty face. This only made Daisy laugh even more. 

Meanwhile, Prince Florian sat down beside Mario. “You okay?” He asked, placing a hand on Mario’s belly. Mario jumped and hugged his side, pushing Florian’s paw away. “Dohohon’t tohouch. Ihit still tickles.” Mario reacted. 

Florian smirked and poked his side a couple times. “Oh really?” He asked. 

Mario pushed his paw away and pointed his index finger at him. “Don’t you start.” Mario warned with a smirk. 

“Or what?” Florian asked. Mario grabbed Florian, laid him on his back and tickled his belly. “Or I’ll get you back.” Mario declared. 

“eeEEHEHEEEK HAhahahaha!! Mahariohoho!” Prince Florian reacted.

Meanwhile, Peach was giggling and still looking at Mario with the most love-struck look you had ever seen. Mario’s laughter, mixed with Mario’s mischief and playfulness towards Florian…was making her experience those special feelings she rarely ever felt. 

Daisy had quickly noticed this, and gently punched her shoulder. “Look at this lovey-dovey goon. Does Peachy-poo have a crush on Mario?” Daisy asked. 

Peach gasped and held her shoulder. “What?! No!” She attempted to argue, but to no avail.

“Oh really~?” Daisy poked her cheek. “Cause that face is something me the whoooole truth.” She teased. 

Peach grunted and started poking and squeezing Daisy’s sides and belly to get back at her. “Says the one with the biggest crush on Luigi.” Peach teased. 

“eeEEK! NOHohoho shuhut ihihihihihit!” Daisy reacted. 

‘Not until you do, flower-face!” Peach teased, poking her a few more times…only to get snow shoved into her face by Daisy. Only THEN did Peach stop her tomfoolery. 

Though, let’s face it: the entire clan of heroes are a bunch of playful hooligans who will always take a moment to play around and tease each other. After all: what’s an adventure without a little harmless fun?! 

[tomjamesavery]

Dress up nicely! Written for the Ginnyvary challenge day 5 with the prompt: "Give me one good reason why I should wear a dress!” Read on: AO3 “Come on Daddy, I want to see the parade.” Lily Luna was eagerly pulling on her father's shirt.

Harry was starting to panic, he still had no outfit for the annual wizarding costume parade. He opened the ornate oak chest in which they kept all their costumes, but between an old pirate outfit and something that seemed to resemble the king's cape he had been wearing for a ministry function mask ball over ten years ago, he wasn’t successful in locating something he could wear.

“Daddyyy! I bet Rose and Hugo are already there, they have probably already started." His six-year-old daughter called out from behind him again, and Harry was about to say fuck it and just go without a costume. When suddenly Ginny stepped into the living room, she was dressed as fluffy pink Pigmy Puff, wearing a huge puffy onesie.

“Harry?” She stopped in her tracks to look at him for a short second. “You still haven’t found something to wear? The kids are all waiting for you.”

Harry closed the chest and sat down on top of it, putting his head into his hands. “I have found nothing. Well, a few loose pieces that are probably older than Jamie.” Ginny snorted from the other side of the room and he continued his rant.

“But it’s nothing I can use. Wearing that old rotting pirate shirt in there, I could pass as a caveman I guess.” “Daddy’s a caveman.” He looked up to see Lily leaving the room madly giggling, a spring in her step, the urgency from before seemingly vanished, and he only shook his head. Ginny shot him an understating smile as she stepped closer until she was before him gently brushing her right hand through his hair. “As much as I would like to see you in nothing but a way too small pirate shirt-” She shot him a mischievous grin and he felt his cheeks redden. “-We will find you something more… covering.” Her left hand landed on his chest and slowly wandered up, as Harry swallowed visibly. But suddenly she grabbed his shirt tightly and simply pulled him to his legs, off the chest he had still been sitting on, and he shot her an annoyed look. “You could’ve just told me to get up, you know?” Ginny only giggled “Well where would’ve been the fun in that?” With a swift move, she pulled open the chest again and began to rummage through the messy clump of outfits in there. Harry looked visibly annoyed as he watched his wife search through the mess of clothing-, he had scanned through earlier already, -again. “Gin I’ve looked for 10 minutes, I tell you, there is nothing in there. You’re wasting your time… argh… I guess I will just go like…” “HA!” He was cut off by Ginny’s victorious voice. “I’ve found something! You’re going to love it.” Harry’s eyes were wide, what could she have found in there, he had looked extensively just 5 minutes ago. He leaned in to get a better look and as he made out what she had discovered he only let out a loud groan. “Give me one good reason why I should wear a dress!”

Ginny didn’t reply as she pulled the long red princess dress from the box. She held it up putting it to Harry’s chest before she finally spoke. “You’d look fabulous in that!” She couldn’t do anything but laugh at the look Harry shot her. “A gorgeous princess, I love it!” Before could say anything she closed the chest again and simply threw Harry the dress who quickly caught it out of reflex. “So it is decided, I will look for the kids, we will leave in five minutes, be quick!” And with that she swiftly left the room, leaving Harry staring behind her, a long red dress in his hands.

[ememmerson]

While her brows furrowed as the cigarette shed previously held perched between her lips was lifted from her the familiar gesture only deepened the smirk on her lips. Once shed taken her seat beside the other brunette her head fell away from him with a curious tilt. Of course she was aware enough to know that he wasn't apart of the actual foot ball team but he was absolutely apart of their network. She accepted the cigarette from him and flicked the ash before taking a puff of her own, shoulders shrugging as she considered his question.  “Kass and I played for the Glee club when they did a showcase. That's how we met anyways. You trying to tell me I don't seem cool enough to hang out with Rachel?” The question was laced with a playful accusation and her brow raised with her words to be sure to mark the statement as a no rhetorical question.  She swiftly took the bottle from him and twisted the top off but held it out of his reach with a finger out to him. “ I don't think you want any of this Whisky. You see this is Truth or Dare Whiskey. You have to complete a Dare or make a confession before each drink. . .” She paused, her face becoming a mask of faux severity as she took a slow drink from the bottle ands exhaled like it would dampen the burning in the back of her throat. 

“Are you prepared for that?” 

At the mention of the brunettes friend Em had to fight from grimacing. If getting alcohol meant having to fall under Kats scrutiny then alcohol was just not in the cards for him tonight.  “Ah - Pop. Pops just fine. If you have Dr.Pepper that would be great. “ The way she smiled under his complement sent a wave of warmth crashing through his chest and erupting into probably the biggest smile Emmett had mustered to this date. Of course he had called other girls beautiful before but not a single one of them lit up with the same gorgeous light that she did in that moment. That . That was why he knew there was no letting this sneaking crush fall away. That smile.  The first time he’d seen her smile, actually smile -- He couldn't help but trail after her. Even if his friends groaned in length about him wasting his time on his classwork or how just generally uncool Rachel was; He didn't care about any of it. He was a moth to the flame of that smile and GOD if her sense of humor and over all sweetness didn't just solidify all of it for him. 

Em opened his mouth to speak, a frown forming there instead as he cut short by her gesture. A smile quickly made its home on his lips as his hand was suddenly and finally in hers as she drew him along towards the kitchen, being left by her much too soon.  Kass stood focused down into a boiling pot of macaroni when Rachels presence and question seemed to hit him all at once. What ever he wanted? How about not wander off with that stupid blond ogre. 

“You want me to lie to Kat? Do you want me dead?” 

He asked with a dry laugh a soft incredulity in his tone.  “Ill give you a head start. . .”  He sighed, head shaking as he dumped the powdered cheese into the pot.  “But im not dumb enough to get in her way if she tries to go after you. you get me?” 

[andy-clutterbuck]

[babylovepresley]

soft E.P headcannon:

Elvis is literally the goofiest man on earth, he loves making his girl laugh because its his favorite sound in the world- from telling jokes on stage to hear her laugh about it after the show or brushing her side knowing shes ticklish and pretending it was on accident <33

oh my! this is so so so cute! :’)

comin’ right up nonnie <3

“ ‘d ya like that one honey?” he’d say while leaning down to look you in the eye (it doesn’t matter how tall or short you may be, he always wants to lean down for his “lil baby”)

one night during a show in vegas he is of course being his usual silly self, and you are giggling and laughing so much you’re near tearing up. your face is all red and blushy from your excitement as you walk backstages to greet him

“where’s my babydoll?” elvis would yell out the minute the curtain closes

when he finally spots you he walks over, head held high at making you smile, “ hiya honeybunny… what sonnaoffabitch ‘as got you blushin’ so much?” he’d joke while grabbing you by the waist and pulling you tight to him

softly, for him to hear and him alone you’d whisper, “you did real good tonight e”

his eyebrows shoot up with that gorgeous shit eating grin while he stares you down, “real good huh?”

“real good baby”

“oh my love, my love ain’t you a keeper? always gigglin’ at my jokes, ‘m your own lil jester huh?” he’s breathe out, moving his fingers to tickle your waist as you let out a squeal of laughter, always delighted at him

“god i love ya.. prettiest lil laugh i’ve ever heard i swear it” he’d blush, pulling your hand to rest on his heart to feel it beating; he always needs to be touching you & you adore these small moments of intimacy.

“go on get your little purse and come with me i got a good joke for ya that jerry told me earlier”

with a hand on ur stomach pulling you flush to his front you walk with him, feeling his chest on your back as he breathes and giggles at his own joke before he even says it

“ alright… alright baby..” snorting laughter before anything is said “okay… whew.. aw man… alright now how do you make a pool table laugh?”

“ i don’t know baby how?”

“tickle its balls—”

“ELVIS!”

and his big booming laugh would ring out just at hearing your reaction. the poor man is almost bent over in pain from laughing so hard

but he’d do anything to make you laugh, even tell the corniest joke on earth for a little puff of breath from your nose

send in your favorite soft elvis hcs <3

[yuzukult]

cigarettes & coffee (m) || yjh & reader

title: cigarettes & coffee pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, bad influence!jeonghan, coffee drinker!oc word count: 3.4k warnings: unprotected explicit smut, slight spit kink (bye), jeonghan is a smoker (wags finger, bad for u!!) a/n: um, yes, i wrote this instead of finishing the 15k jk fic. enjoy. no, i did not proofread bc rereading my smut makes me shy. also, thanks @/cheolbooluvr for helping me fix the background of the banner bc i couldn't bother to do it myself.

He reeks of cigarettes; the smoke is an aromatic stain that weaves a permanent spot in his clothing until he decides to rescue himself from this repulsive habit. But the nicotine finds home in his lungs every time he has the butt of the cigarette at the corner of his pretty pink petal soft lips, nothing in resemblance of his darkened, coal-like lungs.

He’s supposed to look cool.

And honestly, he kind of does.

But it’s so bad for him, this stick of addiction, because he smokes packs of it on a weekly basis. It’s unhealthy (just like he is for you), and you worry about him. But despite all the efforts to tell him to quit, he wouldn’t quit the cigarettes. He’d rather quit you.

Jeonghan puffs another breath of smoke in your face. He’s gotten more rude, if that was even possible, and it causes heat to rise around your neck. “What’d you say, pretty?”

“I said you should quit,” you state boldly, fists balled by your sides like they’re holding every ounce of confidence in you. “Cigarettes are bad for you.”

He scoffs, head leaning back in finding relief of getting that dosage of nicotine. “You’re bad for me, baby. But I’m still seeing you.”

Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms over your chest. You’re wearing that leather jacket he lent you months ago, one he said to not to return, only because you’re his girl and you’re so goddamn gorgeous in it.

You let out a sound of disbelief in your head. Of course he’d say that. What else would he say?

“Whatever. You can quit me then if you won’t quit the cigarettes.”

Intrigued, he leans back against his propped up motorcycle. He’s the ultimate ‘bad influence’ type—from the Harley to the leather jacket, the heavy chunky boots to being a lead guitarist in a band, and even sporting his brunette long hair that cascades down to his shoulders in waves. “What’d you say, doll?”

“I said,” it’s more stern the second time you say it, “quit me. Since you can’t get rid of that nasty stuff.”

Jeonghan squints his eyes at you, bringing that forbidden treat back up to his lips. “I ain’t quitting you.”

“Well, it’s either me or the cigs.”

He chuckles, another exhale fogging his senses. “Baby, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re even using the jargon, cigs, which, by the way, nobody really says anymore.”

“Well,” you swallow. He’s always got this effect on you; weak in the knees and mouth suctioned out of words. Jeonghan makes you more nervous than when you take exams—there’s something about him that definitely tells you that you shouldn’t get involved, but there’s also something about him that makes you feel like you have to stay. You’re not going to this time though. “If you’re not quitting those cig—” pausing, you stop yourself from using the same word he mocked you for, “—cigarettes… then you’re quitting me.”

He gets up from his motorcycle, finishing up the last puff before tossing the butt onto the floor and stepping on it with his worn out boots. “I said it once, and I ain’t saying it again after this. I’m not quitting you.”

“Well, you should. Because you have an addiction to bad things for you, and I’m too good. You can’t have that, can you?”

A little too daring, you don’t like to admit it, but it needs to be done. Jeonghan quirks a brow, impressed by your sudden courageousness because you’re often timid and quiet in his presence.

“Pft. You think you’re good for me?”

Ouch. “You don’t?”

Jeonghan moves closer. The closer he gets, the more air gets vacuumed from your lungs. “Baby, I don’t do schoolwork. I don’t study, I don’t do assignments, I don’t go to classes. Fuck, I even fucking dropped out of high school. But you…” he laughs, but it’s not because he finds it funny, “you got me fucking waiting for you outside of a University I don’t even attend. I’m at the fucking library, waiting for your ass—”

“I never asked you to.”

In complete disbelief, Jeonghan shakes his head. What the fuck did you put in your coffee this morning?

In the midst of his thoughts, you’re already sliding the leather jacket off your shoulders. Words are just words, but actions speak louder. “Here’s your jacket back.”

He scowls. “The fuck you giving me that back for?”

“Uh,” you scratch your head. “Because we’re breaking up.”

“We’re not breaking up, you’re just acting up,” pulling your jacket back onto your shoulders, Jeonghan has a hard stare on you. “So stop talking nonsense, yeah?”

Letting out a deep breath, you put your hands over Jeonghan’s, stopping him from putting his jacket on you once more. “I don’t think this is going to work out. I don’t like going home and reeking like your cigarettes. It’s disgusting.”

He sucked in his cheeks. The silence is like the elephant in the room; stuffy and tight, but he remains quiet as it swells up between the two of you. “I’ll quit the cigs.”

His cigarettes always permeate your senses—when you’re with Jeonghan, it swarms your head like the plague just as much as your thoughts are filled with him. From the smell of his tees to the warmth of being in his arms, Jeonghan was a walking cigarette and although women found him sexy standing outside of the school buildings, leaned up against the brisk masonry, his stench was too much for you.

Today is not like other days.

He still wears that smirk on his face, does that annoying clicking sound with his mouth, and has his back up on the side of the building with his chunky boots on. The ground is wet, and with the swooshing sounds of the cars driving by, you’re surprised he even opts for riding his bike here when it rained barely moments before.

“What are you doing here?” You hiss, readjusting the strap of your backpack over your shoulder. “I thought I said we’re breaking up.”

“I don’t like that you gave me an ultimatum, baby.”

He’s annoying, but he makes a good point. It wasn’t fair to give him an ultimatum like that, but it’d grown exhausting trying to keep up with his antics and his smoking habits. He was asking too much from you.

“It’s fair to say I don’t wanna date a smoker.”

“I ain’t a smoker, baby.” With that, Jeonghan pulls a box of cigarettes out of his pocket like some magician and hands it over to you.

You stare at the cardboard box, then back at the boy you’ve been head over heels for. “You say you’re not a smoker and then you show me a box of cigarettes?”

He gestures to you to check out the box.

Sighing, you’re back to playing his games and he doesn’t have to even try.

Reaching over, you flip the pack open, and oddly enough, it’s not cigarettes in there.

They’re… lollipops?

“What are you getting at here?” You query, furrowing your brows. He doesn’t fail at being aggravating, and Jeonghan doesn’t seem like he wants to break out of that either.

“I told you, baby. I’m not a smoker anymore.”

You narrow your gaze at him. “Prove it.”

Jeonghan strangely decides to deliver your favorite coffee order. He even wears a shirt that you haven’t seen before—and Jeonghan likes having the simplest attire that doesn’t require much effort, therefore anything outside of grey, black, and white t-shirts weren’t his thing. This loose beige button up is different. Different like how he’s been acting.

“I got you coffee.”

“I see that,” you respond, slowly reaching out for the paper cup filled with the goodness that’s as strong as jet fuel. “What’s the occasion?”

“I thought about what you said… quitting cigarettes.”

“Mmhm,” you hum, opening the cap of your drink. Just to make sure. No cream, no sugar, just plain black coffee. “What about it?”

“Let’s make a compromise,” he says, hands sliding into the front pockets of his leather pants. You suspect it’s for a show he has later tonight, while you’re stuck in the confines of a room for a late class. “Quit your coffee and I’ll quit the cigs.”

Okay, he’s definitely using ‘cigs’ to mock you now, and you’re sure of it. “I’m not quitting coffee, Jeonghan. It’s not the same harm as when you smoke cigarettes.”

“Gets your heart racing though,” he points out slyly, a smug expression on his face. “I know if you have too much, just barely enough, it’ll have you panicking. I don’t like that for you, baby, it’s bad for you.” Jeonghan’s words ring in your ears, singing like a threat dressed with the sweetness of his voice, but uncover the blanket of saccharine and you’ll see his devious plan.

“I’m not quitting coffee,” you’re not afraid to repeat yourself. Bringing the drink to your lips, the bitterness awakens your tastebuds and it’s almost like injecting the caffeine into your veins. It’s the boost you needed, especially before a class that’s scheduled in the deep hours of the night. “Not the equivalent to your smoking habits.”

“Then, like I said, let’s make a compromise.”

You freeze midway of drinking, pulling yourself away from your very own addiction, to look at another in the eye. “What’s the compromise?”

He knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger. “Let’s… do less smoking, and less drinking coffee. Here and there is fine. Less is more. You always said you wanted an equal relationship, right? Well, I know you don’t like the smell and what it does to my insides, and well, likewise. Your kisses are bitter, and you’re colder when you’re on the bean.”

You snort. On the bean? But nonetheless, it seemed reasonable. Cigarettes and coffee.

Gasping, the kisses that Jeonghan plants on the side of your neck has your toes curling. He’s got a hand on your thigh, pulling it around his waist as his crotch presses down onto yours and into the cushions of his couch. Inhaling sharply, your senses are saturated with Jeonghan, and Jeonghan only—without the cigarettes. He smells different though, like something sweet. Like sugar.

He’s got a cherry lollipop stem in between his fingers.

Head leaned back, he looks at you with those hooded eyes, darkened irises that ask for more. He pops the treat in between his lips, crimson and shiny like his plump lips, tempting a kiss from you. “Want some, baby?”

You swallow. Words don’t leave you, but your lips part just slightly for him to drag the candy from his mouth and slip into yours. It’s wet and warm from him, and on a different occasion, you’d find this disgusting, but with Jeonghan’s breath ghosting over your face and the way he seems equally as infatuated with you, it’s more honeyed than you’d like to admit.

“Fuck the candy,” he blurts, tossing it onto your coffee table without care, and just when you’re about to lecture him for not throwing it into the trash can that’s right next to it, his lips crashes onto yours.

Jeonghan tastes like the confectionery, immersed in nothing but cherries. His lips are tinted pink, soft and gentle against yours; fingers finding way from your nape, and up tangled into your loosened locks, he doesn’t hesitate to have you as close as possible, especially when he thought he was going to lose you.

With his guitar sitting on its stand in the corner of your living room, his clothes hung in a small portion of your closet, and his toothbrush sitting cozily by yours on the bathroom sink, he doesn’t become just a hook-up anymore. And the airy sweet nothings he whispers into your ears when he’s tugging down your sweatpants and flinging it aside, he sneaks a quick peck on your jawline before pressing his forehead against yours is confirmation of it. It’s too loving, too intimate to be just a one night stand anymore. Or two nights… three nights…

There’s something endearing about the way he gingerly bumps his nose against yours, and his breath doesn’t hint cigarettes anymore, instead replaced by those fruity lollipops he sucked on in lieu of the cancer stick. Yesterday morning was strawberries, and last night was blueberries.

And tonight, it’s cherries.

An action that makes you shy, he makes it comfortable. He distracts you with kisses while his hand trails down the curves of your frame and finds home in between your legs. Unconsciously, you close them together but Jeonghan taps your thigh lightly and you open them gradually, heart racing faster than caffeine usually makes it. How ironic.

But unlike black coffee, Jeonghan lessens the bitterness. It’s not your first time, but for some reason, Jeonghan always has you anxious like it is. Yet, in spite of the fear, you still want to drown in him, to be engulfed by him, to be loved by him.

Thumb brushing your bud, you whimper in the kiss. A smirk tugs on the edges of his lips, and heat rises up to your chest in embarrassment. Jeonghan enjoys it though—he loves all the sounds you make; it’s like the melody to his favorite song, so inviting, so alluring, and it always drives him to want to make more out of you.

“Good?” He asks assuringly, and you chew on your bottom lip with a gentle nod.

His fingers aren’t as thick as him, but they still do wonders. He has you writhing in pleasure underneath him, hands grasping onto his arms, head thrown back, and the roots of your hair wet from the overwhelming feeling taking over you. To you, you see whites behind your lids.

But to Jeonghan, he sees the prettiest girl underneath the dim lights of a shoddy apartment.

Sweat glistening on your neck and down to your collarbones, he’s hypnotized by your beauty. You’re always so caught up in your head about him, and how much of a bad influence he is on you, but you’ve changed him in ways that he didn’t think was possible. From convincing him to visit you at school instead of the limitations of the four walls of his old apartment to quitting cigarettes, he’s sunken into your love so deep, it was like quicksand. It was too late when he realized how far gone he’d been.

When you reach your high, Jeonghan is desperate to see you again. To watch your face contort into content, to get lost in the feeling because of him and nobody else. But your grip on his wrist says otherwise, because you’re giving those bedroom eyes in the middle of your living room.

“You wanna move?”

“No,” you snap, letting go of your hold to only tug on the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “I want to do this.”

“Let me make you cum again—”

“No,” you’re getting good at saying what you want, and he’s thoroughly impressed. You’re not who you used to be, and although he loved that version of you, he shares the same love of this new one of you. “I want you. Take it off.”

It’s his turn to gulp. You’re so bold, and sometimes, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. His pants and boxers are discarded onto the floor next to the two of you, and when he looks back at you, you’re already propped up on your arms. “Let’s um… yeah.”

He laughs, so hearty and warm, resembling a campfire on a cool, autumn night. “Don’t get shy on me now, you just said you wanted me to take it off.”

“Right,” you say awkwardly, and Jeonghan lets out another chuckle. He likes this, and how it’s different from the other girls he’s been with because they’re either too shy or too confident. Nothing wrong with that, it’s just… this felt real. “Um—”

Deciding it’s best to not let you talk, he’d rather hear you moan his name.

He’s got his hand down beside your head, and your breath gets caught in your throat. He’s been this close before, but he’s so good at making you feel like you’ve got some schoolgirl crush on him.

When he’s with you sometimes, it’s almost like the equivalent of drinking alcohol. Jeonghan gets buzzed, like he’s taken a couple swings of beer, and he’s completely inebriated just from your love. It’s like for a brief moment, all is forgotten—that tough guy reputation, the cold shoulders he’s supposed to give—you’re worse than cigarettes, the things you do to him.

Arms linking around his neck, you have him close, foreheads pressing against each other once more. His hands are roaming around the expanse of your ass, legs open and welcoming just him. Legs around his frame, he spits into the palm of his hand before wrapping it around his girth for a couple pumps before brushing the head of his cock against your swollen lips. He looks back up at you through his fluttery lashes, so pretty and long, and you give him that confirming nod.

Jeonghan slides into you with ease; you’d been wet and ready for him the moment he had his lips onto yours. Hips flushed against yours, he halts for a couple seconds to watch your face scrunch up at the intrusion—the initial stretch was a bit harsh at first, but with enough time, you’re already, tapping his arms to move his goddamn hips because now he was taking too long.

He takes the tightening around his cock as another signal to go.

His name escapes from your pretty lips, just as he’d hope for, and that darkened gaze underneath those hooded eyes are enough to inch back and slam his hips into yours. He could hear how wet you are, and when he looks down to see his dick slipping in and out of you, he can’t hold back the groan that releases from his chest because he’s soaked in you. “Feels good?”

Truthfully, you don’t want to talk. There’s this layer of shyness that still lays over you, despite being naked and exposed in front of Jeonghan. “Yeah,” you say breathily, and it’s all Jeonghan needs to hear.

Gripping your thighs, he rocks into you before quickening his pace and the sounds that fill the room are your squelching around his dick and skin slapping. The thought flusters you, but when his addicting lips press against that sweet spot behind your ear, those lewd moans are harder to contain, and your nails dig into the flesh on his shoulders. Jeonghan can’t help but let a groan slip; the idea of you marking him and someone questioning them stirs his lower stomach in pleasure. He likes being yours, and he hopes you don’t mind being his.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasps, mouth slightly agape. Jeonghan pushes your legs down, pressed against your chest, and lifts himself up a bit to get a new angle and you can’t hold back your whimpers anymore. You’re so full, full of Jeonghan, full of his love and all the sweetness he inhabits. He’s been so good for you, and it’s your turn to be his good girl.

Leaning up just barely, your fingers comb through his dampened chocolate locks. Jeonghan’s charmed gaze meets with yours, ears perked up attentively like he knows you want to say something, but he doesn’t stop thrusting into you. “Can you do something for me, baby?”

“Anything,” he spurs, completely entranced. “What you want, love.”

Love. Your heart swells. “Come in me?”

His eyes clenched shut, and his hips slow down. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“I’m on the pill,” you assure, and a soft whine comes from him. “It’s safe, but only if you wanna.”

“Fuck, okay, whatever you want, I’ll do for you.”

He doesn’t forget about you—Jeonghan never does—and his fingers play with your clit when he feels himself on the brink of cumming. but he doesn’t finish until you do. Even with the cold guy exterior, he still puts you first.

Sitting up, his hips fasten in movements, and his lids grow heavy. “Fuck,” he whispers, and your thumb brushes against his cheek lovingly. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” and with that, his body stutters, pressed against yours with his face dug into the crook of your neck.

After a few moments, you let out a quiet laugh. “Are you okay?”

“I think I’m gonna be the one that’s the coffee addict now if I wanna keep this up.”

[tetsurousharlot]

For BNHarem's Valentine Day's Rom-Com Collab! Thank you @tsumtsumsthighs for beta reading!

Pairing: Todoroki Touya x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: love at first sight trope, kissing in the rain trope, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), fantasy au (modern royalty), light angst, happy ending, creampie kink, daddy kink, degradation and exhibitionism if you squint, praise, Touya calls reader good girl, dirty slut, quirkless au, Touya has no burns, all characters are 18+. MUST BE 18 OR OLDER TO INTERACT (i.e. like, comment, reblog, follow). I BLOCK AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS 17 AND UNDER.

Dress one, Dress two, Mask one but lilac to match instead of blue

Classical music fills your ears as you look around the room, eyes obscured by a silver to lilac ombré colombina mask, ribbon tied snuggly against your head. Couples dance as you stare longingly at them and release a sad sigh as you grab another appetizer and pop it in your mouth. King Enji and Queen Rei sit atop a three tiered dais on the highest level. On one side sits Prince Shouto and Prince Natsuo. On the other, Princess Fuyumi and a vacant chair. . . which no one bats an eye at.

Prince Touya always sneaks off from events like these but your heart still falls at the thought that you’d missed out on the chance to see the elusive first prince. Another sigh escapes your lips. ‘I just had to be late in arriving. One chance to see him and I blew it.’

You reach for another crab puff as a hand covers yours and your eyes meet icy blue ones. A gasp falls from your lips as white hair makes its way into your vision and you drop the crab puff in shock. ‘Don’t freak out. Prince Touya is standing right in front of me.’

A smirk graces his face as he stares at you, “what’s got you so down?”

“What makes you think I am?”

“Oh, nothing,” mischief dances in his eyes. “Just that you’ve sighed twice in the last few minutes. . . and you keep looking longingly at the dance floor.”

You smirk as you pick up the crab puff and pop it in your mouth, “So you’ve been watching me all night, huh?”

He walks over to you and leans in to whisper in your ear, “not my fault you’re the most gorgeous one here tonight. . . especially when you’re in my favorite color. The purple suits you.” Heat floods your cheeks as he runs his hands over the corset style ribbon backing, resting on your back, “I’d love to rip it off of you.”

You gulp before pushing him away, “and I’d love if you asked me to dance first.”

He takes your hand and leads you out to the dance floor. Gripping your hand tightly in his and resting his hand on your lower back, he pulls you tightly to him as your hand rests on his arm. He spins you around the dance floor as all eyes fall on you both.

“They’re looking at us.”

“It’s because you got the elusive Prince Touya to not only show his face but, also, actually dance at one of my family’s balls.”

“You hate them that much?”

“The parties or my family?”

Your mouth drops open at his words but nothing comes out, the only sounds being the music and the only slightly hushed whispers of gossip.

His lips graze your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, “What do you say we get away from these prying eyes?”

Nodding your head, he leads you out of the room and down a corridor, hand on your waist. You wordlessly follow him out of the castle and he continues to guide you into a small, open garden at the end of an unassuming path. Water falls from a fountain as dark purple roses and calla lilies fill the garden. Tall leafy hedges grant you two some much desired privacy. A stone bench acts as the seating but you’re drawn to the fountain, taking a seat and running your fingertips along the cool water.

Body heat fills the space next to you as a hand joins yours in the water, fingertips running along yours. Heat rises to your cheeks as you feel his gaze on you.

“So . . .” you trail off, unsure if you want to ask the question on the tip of your tongue as you gnaw on your bottom lip.

“You can ask. What’s on your mind?” His hand cups your cheek, thumb rubbing it softly.

Taking a deep breath, your eyes meet his as you exhale, “when I asked if you hate them that much, you asked ‘the parties or my family’. . . What did you mean by that?”

A humorless chuckle falls from his lips as he groans, “well, I did say you can ask.” His hand rubs the back of his neck, “The parties are just a show – an act – that we Todoroki’s all put on to show the people that we’re the perfect family. And everyone is so fake, sucking up to anyone with the Todoroki blood or anyone who curries favor with us. Or they’re trying to arrange a marriage in some way.”

“And your family?”

Another chuckle, “let’s just leave it at appearances can be deceiving. . . and I want nothing to do with them. . . nothing to do with this life.” He looks up to the stars, “I’d leave tomorrow and disappear if I could.”

“Then why don’t you?”

Silence fills the area and you’re beginning to think he won’t answer when he opens his mouth, “someone has to protect them from the king.”

Opening your mouth to ask for elaboration, you snap it closed when he looks at you with broken eyes. Rubbing the back of your neck, you change direction, “Why me, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Out of everyone at that party, why me?” Your eyes fall down to the ground.

A small smile graces his face as he looks up at the stars, “because you were different. Everyone there immediately went to greet the family or someone who could get them an in with the family. But you? You immediately went for the snack table. Or hid along the walls. You didn’t want to be seen, didn’t care about impressing us.”

You look up just in time to see his face mere centimeters from yours and gulp. His hand cups your cheek as he moves closer, hesitating only to see if you’ll object. When you shake your head and rest your hands on his shoulders, he closes the distance, his lips capturing yours as fireworks light up the sky, covering both your faces in yellows, blues, reds, greens, and various other colors. Purple lights up the sky as you part, looking deeply in his eyes and gnawing on your lip again.

His thumb rubs your lip, freeing it from between your teeth and confessions fill the night air and you spend the next hour talking about anything and everything.

You shiver as your clothed back is pressed against the cold stone of the hallway wall, fingers curling deep inside you. Heavy pants fill the air you grip his arm, toes curling as you cum. Pulling his fingers from you, he kisses you deeply as he pulls his throbbing cock, pre-cum forming at the tip as he gives it a few quick tugs before lining up with your walls and sinking in slowly.

You moan into his mouth as he bottoms out and stills to let you adjust. You whine as you wiggle your hips against his, nodding your head to signal for him to move. Your hands grip his arms, nails digging into them, as he pulls out and slams back in, ripping moans from both of you.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he says with a groan, giving a harsh thrust as his cock twitches inside you.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you circle your hips and let out a low moan as his hands wrap around your thighs. Hoisting you higher, he angles his hips and thrusts deeper into you. Clenching tighter at his words, you bring a hand to his hair and tug on it, “Oh, God, Touya! Ri-right there!”

He smirks as he pulls back and thrusts in again, vein on the underside of his cock dragging against your sweet spot again, “Yeah? My good girl likes when daddy hits the spot? Oh, and she likes praise, based on how much tighter you got.” He moves his lips to your chest, pulling the bodice down so it’s resting under your heaving breasts. He groans as they swing with every thrust of his hips before his mouth descends on one, “You’re taking me so well. It’s like you were made to take my cock. Daddy’s gonna reward you – fill you up with his cum that it’s leaking out of you for days.”

He presses a kiss to the side of it before sucking harshly, claiming you as his and smirking at the darkened skin. Pushing your legs up to rest on his shoulders, he cups your cheeks for leverage while the sound of skin slapping bounces off the stone walls of the hallway. His lips attach to your breast again, tongue swirling around your nipple as his fingers dig into your cheeks.

Heels clacking against stone reach your ears as you attempt to push him away, “Touya, someone is coming.”

“So? Let them come and see how much you’re falling apart on my cock.” He smirks as you clench tighter around him. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Dirty slut, wanting someone to catch us. Maybe even watch us?”

“Touya, please. . .” you whine and claw at him some more. He rolls his eyes but kisses the side of your cheek as he thrusts back in, hips pressed against yours as he stills until the noise stops then heads in the other direction until there’s a creak of a door before the slam of it shutting reverberates throughout the hallway.

His hand cups your cheek softly, “you okay? Do you want to stop?”

“I’m okay,” you smile softly at him before gripping his sleeves. “No! I-I mean no. I want to continue.”

“Addicted to my cock already?” He smirks as he gives a sharp thrust. “I think you just might be the perfect woman.”

He snakes a hand between you and rubs harsh circles against your clit. Your eyes roll in your head as you rock yourself against his hips, moans falling from your mouth as your stomach tightens until you cum, coating his cock in your juices. Falling limp against him, he continues to thrust harshly as he uses you for his own pleasure. He bites into your shoulder as his hips rock into you, groaning as he paints your walls white.

He rests his head against your shoulder as he drops your legs, “you okay?”

Chest heaving against his clothed one to catch your breath, you nod your head, “Yeah, I’m good. More than good, actually.” You giggle as you clench around him, causing a groan to fall from his lips.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he lifts his head to look at you, pressing a kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. “It’s crazy but I feel like I’ve known you forever,” his thumb caresses your cheek as you give him a soft smile. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“I think I am, too. Feels like I’ve waited my whole life just to meet you.”

He gives you another deep kiss, hands cupping your face before he pulls back and puts your bodice back in place. You let out a whine as he pulls out of you, hearing the rustling of fabric he pulls his pants up and steps back to help you smooth out your dress.

He gives you another deep kiss, “think I can convince you to come back to my room so I can tear that dress off you and fuck you properly?”

Letting out a laugh, you grab his hand and open your mouth to answer when a large chiming rings out, causing you to gasp. “Is it midnight already?!”

“Yeah, that’s generally what the chimes mean. So you taking me up o – “

“I’m sorry – I have to go!” You lift up your dress and run down the hallway, leaving a shocked prince alone and wondering what the hell just happened.

Shaking his head to snap out of it, he chases after you, “Wait! Y/n, wait!”

Ignoring his calls of your name, you force yourself to speed up, running faster until you hop into your waiting vehicle, making your great escape as tires squeal. Looking behind you, you see Touya run out and look both ways before spotting you as he sinks to his knees. Two broken hearts dance in the night, the magic of the masquerade is broken and tears fall down your face. Watching as he gets smaller the further away you get, a harsh wind blows your mask free and a gasp falls from your lips.

Soaring through the stars, the mask falls to a stop in front of him and he picks up, determined to find you.

Three months. That’s how long it’s been since he last saw you, running and driving away from him, and he’s spent every second he could searching for you. Searching every house in the immediate vicinity and expanding his search outward more and more each day, just to turn up empty, makes him ready to give up. Groaning, he falls back on his bed, hands covering his face.

“It can’t be this hard to find one person!” He groans again as he sits up, silver catching the corner of his eye. A lightbulb goes off above his head as he dashes up, picking up your mask and turning it over in his hands.

And that’s how he’s willingly standing in the stuffy ballroom, waiting – hoping – anxiously that you’ll arrive. His icy blue eyes roam over to the door every time it opens, heart beating fast that it’s you who shows. . . only for it to fall when it’s the same people that came to gain favor with the royal family. He’s about to give up hope that you might actually show up again when his roam the room once more, heart about to beat out of his chest as a very familiar figure, eyes clad in an all silver mask, sighing sadly as a crab puff is picked up.

Pushing off the wall, he makes his way over and grabs your hand in his, “What’s got you so down?”

Your head snaps up as icy blue eyes stare deeply into yours, “I . . . you’re here again. I didn’t think you would be.”

“Why wouldn’t I be at the party I threw in the hopes that I would see you again?” His hand slides down to lace your fingers together as your mouth drops open in shock.

“I . . . I can’t be here. I have to go,” ripping your hand from his, you pick up your dress and run out the doors.

Growling lowly, he quickly turns and chases after you again, determined not to lose you again. Looking behind you, you ignore your longing heart as you pick up speed, not paying attention to where you’re going until you end up in the garden – Touya’s garden – and boots hitting the ground reach your ears as you stop, caught up in memories.

Arms wrap around you and a low voice is in your ear, “Why did you run away? Why do you keep running away?”

The cracks of thunder and flashes of lightning is your only warning as the skies open, drenching both you and Touya in a matter of seconds and hiding the tears running down your face, “I’m no good for you. Your family, your people. . . they won’t approve of me. You need someone who can benefit the royal family, right? That’s how it works. Well, I . . . I have nothing to offer – no title, no land, no riches. We could never work.”

A humorless chuckle falls from his lips just before another roar of thunder fills the space, “It would work like that . . . if I were next in line for the throne.”

Breaking out of his hold, you whip around in shock, “what? But you’re the eldest?”

“And dear old dad said I wasn’t good enough to rule. So Golden Boy is next in line. Golden Boy is the one that needs to marry to benefit the family,” his hands cup your face, wiping away the tears before icy blue moves to look down at your lips, thumb rubbing the middle of it.

Moving closer slowly, his eyes watch you cautiously to see if you’ll run again. When you make no moves of running, his lips crash down on yours as lightning fills the dark sky again. He pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, “come with me?”

Entranced, you nod your head and he leads you out of the room.

And that’s how you find yourself behind closed doors, gasps and heavy breaths filling the room as Touya’s fingers make quick work of the ribbons on the back of your soaking wet dress. Lips press to your shoulder as fingers gently turn your face towards his and he claims your lips again. As you step out of your dress, he lifts you up and carries you in his arms, gently placing you on the bed as he climbs above you, lips never leaving yours as he deepens the kiss.

He pulls back to shed his own drenched clothes, leaving them on the floor without a care in the world. Climbing back on top of you, he kisses you deeply, moaning into your mouth as you grind against him. His cock hardens as he pulls back to look at you, looking for any trace of uncertainty.

You give him a smile as nothing but love shows in your eyes, “I’m not running again. I love you.”

“I love you, too, doll,” he smiles brightly before his lips descend on yours again. One hand lines up his cock with your walls as the other grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together on the pillow next to your head.

Rain pounds against the window as Touya rocks his hips into yours, mouth leaving love bites along your neck and chest. Your hands grip his shoulders as your legs lock around his waist, gasping and panting with every roll of his hips against yours. Your head falls back as his lips wrap around your breast, tongue lapping at your nipple, causing you to arch your back. Your nails rake down his back, leaving your claim on him as he angles his hips to hit the spot that makes you see stars.

“Touya . . .“ you breathe out as you rock your hips against his faster, stomach tightening until you cum around him with a low moan.

“Fuck, that’s my good girl, coating my cock in your juices,” he speeds up his thrusts until he’s groaning in your ear as he paints your walls white. “Such a good girl.”

He pulls out of you and pulls you into his arms, bringing up the dark purple silk sheets and gray comforter to keep you warm as the chill from the rain seeps into the room. The storm rages outside as you rest your head on his chest, tangling your legs with his. Pressing his lips to the crown of your head, his hand runs up and down your arm as the other cups your cheek, thumb rubbing it softly while he stares into your eyes.

“Will you stay?” His voice is a whisper, barely heard above the storm.

You tilt your head up to look at him, kissing him quickly, “I’m staying. No more running.”

“Good. Cause I’m not losing you again. I love you, y/n.”

You smile softly before you kiss him again then rest your head on him, fingers drawing random shapes. Laying there in the arms of the man you never expected would ever be able to love you back, you realize it wasn’t the magic of the masquerade that brought you together because magic. . . is something you create.

reblogs appreciated, especially with comments! 💕

Tag list: @chibishae34 @patchworkpuzzle @kaitycole

© 2022 to tetsurousharlot. Do not re-upload to wattpad, ao3, or tiktok. Do not recommend on tiktok.

[hamsterclaw]

Fall

This is how you met. This is how your story began.

Pairing: Taehyung x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Non-idol AU, smut, angst, fluff

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Explicit sex, swearing

Dear reader, this is part of the 7 hours AU, and is about how they met. Read the rest of the series: 7 hours, Pornstache, Extinction Rebellion, Jinx, Illicit here. Enjoy.

You close the door behind you as quietly as you can. It’s 4am and you’d woken up to find yourself in the arms of a boy from your politics class.

Taehyung.

You barely know him. You have no idea why you slept with him, apart from that he was confident and helped you with a politics assignment. You’d liked that he’d had the balls to ask you out just like that, in the middle of the library.

And of course, he’s gorgeous. And he’d been great in bed.

You’re not a stranger to a one-night stand, but you’ve never had one completely sober. You walk across campus to your dorm, the cold night air waking you up, your breath coming out in puffs of white in front of you.

You hear footsteps coming towards you, fast, and you whirl around, heart thumping.

It’s Taehyung.

He’s barely dressed, in the t-shirt and sweats he’d fallen asleep in.

‘Hey, are you ok?’ he asks, as soon as he catches up to you, like you’re the one running around barely dressed in the cold.

‘I’m ok,’ you say.

He shoves his hands in his pockets. ‘It’s just – I woke up when you left, and it’s 4am. I just thought I’d better check –’

‘That’s really nice of you,’ you say. You unwind your scarf around your neck and wrap it around him.

You’re much closer to your dorm than his. The thought of him walking all the way back in the cold makes you shiver, especially after he chased you all this way.

‘Come with me, you can sleep at mine,’ you say.

Taehyung walks the rest of the way with you to your room. As soon as you get in you toss him an oversized sweatshirt and socks and fix you both hot chocolate.

‘Are you ok?’ you ask, concerned. He does look pretty cold.

‘I might have hypothermia,’ he says, dramatically. ‘You should check my extremities.’

You laugh and brush a hand over his groin. ‘How thorough a check should I do?’ you ask.

Taehyung’s perking up now, and the smile he gives you is nothing but mischief. ‘I think I need a close-up inspection,’ he says.

‘Do you,’ you muse.

Taehyung’s manspreading on your narrow bed to encourage you, and you’re torn between hilarity and horniness.

Horniness wins.

And that’s how your relationship with Taehyung starts.

***

Taehyung catches up with you after politics class. ‘You busy this afternoon?’ he asks, unfazed by the publicness of it.

‘No classes,’ you reply. ‘I should probably work on this assignment.’

‘We can work on it together,’ Taehyung suggests.

‘Are we really going to work?’ you ask, suspicious.

Taehyung’s trying to look innocent, but there’s a gleam in his eyes.

‘Let’s at least try to get half of it done,’ you say.

‘Deal,’ Taehyung says instantly.

You get none of it done.

Taehyung’s lying on your bed, shirtless, arm behind his head, singing along to the playlist on your laptop.

His voice is deep, warm, gorgeous in tone.

‘Can you stop,’ you complain.

‘Don’t you like my voice,’ Taehyung asks, looking surprised.

‘I love your voice. But we just fucked. Cut a girl a break. Let me breathe!’

‘Oh, is my voice making you horny?’ Taehyung asks, smirking at you.

You don’t even bother to reply. ‘Just stop talking to me for half an hour,’ you say, pulling your hood up and turning away from him.

It’s been barely ten minutes before you feel Taehyung’s hand on your shoulder.

‘I can go,’ he offers. To your disappointment, he’s put his shirt back on. ‘See you tomorrow?’

You stand up to kiss him goodbye, which is your first mistake.

Taehyung kisses you like he’s one step from fucking you, open-mouthed, warm, wet. His stubble rubs against your cheeks and chin, and his chest presses against yours.

As soon as you whimper his hips surge forward, pushing you into the desk.

‘Tae,’ you murmur.

‘Yeah,’ he hums.

You sigh. ‘Let’s go to bed.’

***

You’ve been waking up in Taehyung’s arms for weeks, but you still get a thrill when you open your eyes and see his face. Like today. You’d left a birthday party together last night in the early hours, stumbling out of the apartment it had been in, walking the half mile to your dorm.

You check the time and realise you have to get up or you’ll be late for basketball practice. You lift Taehyung’s arm off where it’s curled around your hips. He mumbles something unintelligible and shifts in his sleep, rolling onto his back.

When you get back from basketball he’s still in bed, looking like he’s just woken up.

He smiles sleepily when he sees you. ‘You look hot,’ he tells you.

‘I’m gonna hit the shower,’ you tell him. ‘Let’s get breakfast after.’

Taehyung’s rubbing at the stubble on his chin when you come out of the shower. ‘Think I’d look good with a beard?’ he asks, smiling at you goofily.

‘Think you’re capable of growing a beard?’ you counter, rolling your eyes.

‘One day,’ Taehyung promises. ‘I’ll show you.’

You grin at his earnest avowal, already digging through your closet to get clothes to wear.

Taehyung and you walk to the Polish diner near your dorm, the one that’s used to catering to hungover college kids.

He watches you tuck into your pancakes with gusto, lips quirking in a smile.

‘I love watching you eat,’ he tells you.

‘Sexy, right?’ you say, putting another forkful of pancakes in your mouth.

‘That’s why you’re so good at sucking my dick,’ Taehyung says, nodding approvingly. ‘You basically don’t have a gag reflex.’

You nearly choke on your pancakes. ‘I’m gagging right now,’ you mutter.

Taehyung chuckles. ‘It’s a lot to take in,’ he says, looking completely serious.

He’s not wrong, his dick is generously sized, an unexpected bonus considering the rest of him is already so perfectly formed.

‘Can we stop talking about your dick,’ you complain, just as the waitress comes to refill your coffee.

Taehyung shakes his head at the waitress, ruefully. ‘She’s obsessed,’ he tells her. He smiles so charmingly she smiles back.

You have to laugh.

***

It’s Valentine’s day. You’ve been dating Taehyung for a couple months by now, and you’re smitten. You’d never thought you’d use such a corny word to describe how you feel, but to your annoyance, it seems to fit perfectly.

He’s on your mind all the time, the more you find out about him the more you like him. He’s funny, confident, and he’s never kept you guessing about how he feels for you. He tells you how great he thinks you are all the time.

Your friend Jimin likes him too, in fact, you can’t think of anyone out of all your friends who hasn’t got a good word to say about Taehyung.

You talk all the time, and yet, neither of you has said anything about Valentine’s day. To be fair, he’s only your second boyfriend, you’re more used to being single on Valentine’s day than to being attached. Your first boyfriend had really gone the whole hog on the Valentine’s day you’d had together – it had been sweet but you’d cringed hard at the stuffed bear, the roses, the chocolates.

Your phone lights up in the middle of the afternoon.

It’s Tae.

Taehyung: Hey, what are you up to tonight?

Y/N: Not a lot. You?

Taehyung: Not a lot. Can I come over?

Y/N: Yeah. Pizza?

Taehyung: Perfect. See you later.

And that was that. You check your supply of condoms and order the pizza and get back to work on your assignment.

Taehyung looks unusually handsome, even for him, when he turns up at your door.

‘You look great,’ you tell him. The beige sweater he has on suits his colouring, and he’s done something to his hair.

‘You look lovely,’ Taehyung tells you. He leans forward to kiss you. ‘And you smell so good.’

‘I got a new shampoo,’ you tell him. ‘You can have it, if you want.’

‘I’d like you to put it on me,’ Taehyung says. ‘In the shower,’ he adds, as though his meaning wasn’t clear enough the first time.

You laugh affectionately. ‘I get it Tae, you want to fuck in the shower.’

Taehyung wraps an arm around you. ‘I’m starving. Let’s eat.’

After dinner you’re watching a movie on your laptop when his hand slides over your thigh, fingers curling loosely over it.

You turn to him, kissing his neck.

His skin gleams in the flickering light from your laptop. He’s stunning like this, the shadow and light hitting his features just right, highlighting the beauty of his profile, his straight nose, his gorgeous cheekbones.

And now he’s looking at you as though he’s thinking the same about you. Though you’ve never verbalised it, never admitted it to yourself, you realise then that you’re already more than halfway in love with him.

Taehyung tilts his head a little and slides his hand around the nape of your neck. When you kiss, he’s gentle, the pressure of his lips against yours sweet and warm.

You shed your clothes quietly, quickly, already vibrating with need for him. And although he likes to make you wait, sometimes, tonight he seems to be in as much of a hurry as you are.

He glides into you like he was made for you, and the sweet familiarity of it has your toes curling, your legs already wrapped around his hips to take him deep. He whispers endearments to you as he rocks into you, telling you how good you feel, telling you how pretty you look.

Your orgasm is intense, you cry out against Tae’s shoulder, and he kisses your open mouth to muffle his own cry as he spills into the condom. Even after he’s cum, his hips move against yours, as though he hasn’t had enough of you.

You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him.

Later, when you’re lying side by side, he cups your cheek so you turn your face to him.

‘I love you,’ he tells you.

‘Well, this is awkward,’ you say, deadpan. ‘Thank you so much.’

Taehyung laughs. ‘Don’t worry, you can save the expression of how much you love me for our wedding day.’

You scoff.

Taehyung turns away to face the wall, and you turn to face him, snuggling into his back.

‘I love you,’ you tell him.

Taehyung reaches back to pull your thigh over his hips.

‘Knew it,’ he says, sounding so smug about it you try to pull away, but he holds you close, not letting you go.

You wake up to Taehyung kissing you on the forehead. ‘Gotta go, baby,’ he says. ‘I’ll call you later.’

You mumble a goodbye and go back to sleep.

It’s only when you wake up that you notice the heart shaped cookie he’s left on your desk, wrapped in red cellophane, and the note scribbled in his barely legible scrawl next to it.

It makes you smile for the rest of the day.

***

It’s the final basketball game of the season, your team’s already top of the league but you still want to finish on a high.

You’d mentioned to Taehyung that he was welcome to come and support you, and he’d said he’d love to.

You’d texted him before the game started, a simple, ‘We’re on now. See you if you’re coming.’

At half-time you check your phone and realise he’s read your message but not texted back.

Your team win the game easily, and leave the court to the cheers of your many supporters, an amazing turnout even for a home game.

There are so many people it’d be difficult to see Taehyung unless he came up to you. You’re still kind of hoping he’d made it.

You shower and get dressed and check your phone again. Nothing from Taehyung.

‘Coming out?’

Binna, one of your teammates, shoves her bag into her locker and locks it.

‘Yeah,’ you say, making up your mind. Hopefully having a few drinks will ease the sting of disappointment you’re trying not to feel.

Despite yourself, you spend the night checking your phone until Binna takes it off you.

Not that it would have made a difference anyway, as Taehyung never gets in touch.

***

It’s a few days before you see Taehyung again. He approaches you on your way back to your dorm.

‘Hey, pretty girl,’ he says, smiling at you as he falls into step beside you.

‘Hey, Tae,’ you say.

He leans in to kiss you. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘Yeah?’ you ask.

‘Yeah,’ Taehyung affirms.

He seems to notice then that you aren’t as warm as you usually are.

‘Something wrong?’ he asks.

‘Nothing,’ you tell him. You’ve reached your dorm, stopping outside the door.

‘Can I come up?’ he asks.

‘I’m kind of tired,’ you tell him. Is he not even going to mention it?

‘Oh ok, sure,’ Taehyung says. He’s looking at you, trying to get a read on you.

‘See you later on in the week ok?’ you say. You open the door and let it swing shut behind you. You don’t look back.

***

On Saturday morning you’re enjoying your first lie-in now that basketball season is over when Taehyung calls you.

‘Hey, I’m downstairs. Let me in?’ he asks.

You slip on a sweatshirt and go to let him in. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he looks like this, all cute and cuddly, smile hopeful.

‘I knew you’d be here because the season is over,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t make it to your final game.’

You look up at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine regret in his expression. It’s years before you learn to tell him about what really matters to you and when you’d really want him to be there.

‘It’s ok Tae. Come on up.’

***

After breakfast you’re strolling with him by the lake on campus. It’s a gorgeous crisp early spring morning.

Taehyung stops to lean against the railing of the steps leading down to the lake.

‘I love days like this,’ he tells you. ‘They make me feel hopeful. Like new beginnings.’

He squeezes your hand, lifting it to press his lips to it.

‘I love you,’ he says. ‘I can’t wait for the rest of our lives to start.’

Standing there, with your beautiful boyfriend smiling down at you, you find you can’t wait either.

You fall the rest of the way in love with him.

©hamsterclaw 2022

[7-wonders]

Place the Sky Within Your Eyes

Summary: A grand ball, a gorgeous dress, and a handsome prince. This night is more wonderful than you could have possibly imagined. And you're not imagining it...right?

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: *chanting* ballroom scene, ballroom scene, ballroom scene! It's here. It's time. Enjoy. If you did, let me know and show me some love. If you didn't, also let me know so we can fight to the death on the stormy moors.

It’s Only Forever: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

The ballroom could easily be confused for the grand halls of a Russian palace if one didn’t know better. Glittering chandeliers are lit overhead, their light reflecting off of the gold figures delicately carved into the crown molding that lines the top of the walls. The large windows, with ornate columns guarding either side of each pane of glass, show the inky black of night outside. Beautiful glass bubbles float above the partygoers, and your eye is drawn to the large, 13-hour clock on the wall above a red throne. It’s a little past 11, but that doesn’t seem important right now.

While the opulence of the room is stunning, those that populate it are even more so. You can’t take your eyes away from the masked dancers, their brightly colored fabrics spinning and twirling along with them. The Rococo fashion matches the architecture, the ladies wearing giant skirts ornamented with bows and lace and the men sporting frills and all types of frivolity on their silk shirts and velvet pants.

They’re beautiful, until you’re able to take an extended look at their faces and you realize that the beastly masks they’re wearing, the horns and the snouts and any other combination of monstrous features, aren’t masks at all. Rather, these are their faces, heavily decorated with makeup, but terrifying just the same.

Footmen are at the beck and call of the guests, ready to refill the glasses of those lounging against each other on settees off the dance floor or provide a glass to an empty hand. You realize that you’re staring for too long when a group of women with perfectly coiffed hair reaching for the heavens snicker at you from behind their fans. Embarrassment floods your veins as you avert your eyes and try to move through the crowd to the outer edges of the room, hoping to at least catch your breath away from the action, which is beginning to make you feel a little dizzy.

When you finally push your way out of the crowd, you feel like you can actually breathe. You turn towards a mirror, checking to make sure that your outfit and makeup made it out unscathed. The dainty crown made up of white flowers that sits atop your head is slightly crooked, so you straighten it out. You take a moment to admire your dress, the bodice fitting you perfectly and the tulle skirt flowing out around you like puffs of silver clouds. The same tulle is attached to your shoulders and trails behind in a way that’s reminiscent of a cape and makes you feel like you’re in a Regency TV show.

The dancers continue to whirl behind you, and your gaze shifts to them in the mirror. You make eye contact with a pair of shocking blue eyes behind a red and gold mask, and goosebumps cover your skin when you realize that those are Michael’s blue eyes. Turning around, you find that he’s not there any longer, nor can you see his long blond hair anywhere in the crowd. Was it really him, dancing past with a woman whose skin is impossibly indigo? Or was it simply another man, with the same features as the King of the Demons and a matching twin smirk?

From behind a throng of bodies, Michael watches in amusement as you move slowly, searching for any sign of him amongst the other guests in the ballroom. He doesn’t want to draw this out too long, but he does enjoy watching you doubt your own sight the longer that you go without finding him.

You begin to feel self-conscious, the eyes of everybody in this ballroom somehow feeling like they’re suddenly all on you and judging your every move. The music, which had seemed cheerful and jaunty before, now begins to feel threatening as those dancing begin to pull you into their dance. They all take great joy in your panic, spinning you from one person to another and laughing cruelly as you have no choice but to obey their whims. Finally, somebody takes pity on you and brings your helpless twirling to a stop. You look up to thank them, only to have your breath taken away when you see that Michael’s the one that’s come to your rescue.

He’s resplendent in a dark red coat, diamonds at his throat, shoulders, and cuffs. Frills of black silk sit at his neck and wrists, making his pale skin stand out even more. Michael pulls you into a dance of his own, but this one feels slower and more intimate. The dizziness all but disappears now that you’re in Michael’s arms, though you squirm uncomfortably at just how earnestly he looks at you, as though you’re the most beautiful being in the room.

“Um, hi,” you stutter out, awkwardly clearing your dry throat.

Michael smirks, the hand on your waist lightly stroking the curve of your body and making the goosebumps return tenfold. “Hello, Precious. Were you not expecting me?”

“I…well, to tell you the truth, I’m not quite sure what I was expecting. This all feels like a dream, but it’s so much more wonderful and realistic than any dream I’ve ever had.”

“I can assure you that I’m very real.” To prove this, he takes one of your hands and places it on his chest, where you can feel his heart beating steadily. Part of you wants to ask how somebody who rules the Underground has a working heart, but that thought doesn’t seem like it’s too urgent at this moment. Another time, then. “I’m making you nervous.”

“No, you’re not.” His fingers go to your wrist, where he can feel your pulse rapidly thrumming under the skin. He raises an eyebrow, and you laugh before looking down at the floor to try and escape the heat rising in your face.

Michael’s cool hand lifts your chin up, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. It doesn’t feel threatening. “Do you trust me?”

You shouldn’t. Something in you says that you should slap his hands away from you and run far away. Yet, you don’t see any sort of deception in his gaze, and against what might be considered better judgment, you nod. “Yes.”

The crowd seems to part around you and Michael as he walks backwards, pulling you along with him. You don’t know where you’re going, but you don’t care, so long as you’re with Michael. He leads you to a set of French doors that are opened by two of the footmen, letting go of your hands to snag two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter before gesturing for you to follow him outside onto the veranda.

The night air is cool on your skin, the music inside only slightly muffled by the glass. You lean on the iron railing, watching the dancers through the windows and from the comfort of being an outside observer. Michael stands next to you, handing you a glass of champagne.

You clink your drink against his. “Cheers,” you say before taking a sip.

“Cheers,” Michael repeats, his smirk long since replaced with an actual smile. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

“Yes,” you grin. “I feel like a princess.”

“You’re not a princess. You’re a queen.” Michael takes your hand, delicately kissing it. You thought that when people said their knees wobbled, they were just using an expression, but as your own knees wobble, you realize it’s very literal. “My queen.”

“Can I ask you something?” Your attention is captured by the fountain down the stairs, and you look at Michael for confirmation before looping your arm around his and letting him escort you towards it.

“Anything.”

“Why me?”

“You’ll have to elaborate, dearest.”

“Everyone in there is so–so beautiful, and otherworldly, and I’m just…me. So why do I capture your attention over everybody else?”

“From the moment I first saw you, I was captivated by you.” You don’t understand, and he can tell. “My demons enjoy going to the mortal realm to cause chaos. One of them chose to dress as a beggar one day. That demon’s particular method is simple, just remaining in their true form, luring unsuspecting victims in, and then enjoying their fear as they scream upon seeing the disfigured face. This demon was outside of your bookstore.”

“I remember! They seemed surprised that I wasn’t running when they looked up at me after I asked if they needed help.”

You brace your hands on the lip of the fountain, gazing into the rippling surface of the water. “You were such an anomaly that, when word eventually got back to me, I felt that I had to go to the mortal realm in order to see this human that wasn’t scared after interacting with a demon.” Michael smiles. “You had my heart when I first walked into that bookstore.”

“So you had seen me before…” Before what? You know that there was some meeting between then and now, and that something had led you here to this moment, but you can’t remember what it is. Not that it really matters, considering how perfect the present moment is.

“Yes. And I continued to visit. I just couldn’t stay away from you.” Of course, Michael won’t mention how he had watched you outside of the bookstore and had seen everything, whether it be your quick wit in classes, your tender heart when taking care of Julia, or your quiet loneliness when returning to your empty apartment at night. There’s more to you that made him fall in love with you than what was experienced within that shop, but Michael will tell you another time.

“Most people would consider that stalking, Michael,” you tease, turning around to face him.

“And do you?”

You pretend to think for a moment. “We’ll just say that you really liked the selection of books we carried.” The fragrant smell of the roses that grow in the maze of foliage ahead of you carries on the breeze, and you pause to take a deep breath. “It’s so peaceful out here.”

“It is. I enjoy coming out here to think, or to get away from others.”

“With this maze, you could hide from anybody.” An idea pops into your mind at that, and you look at Michael with a grin, only to see that he’s mirroring your look.

“Hmm, so you could.”

“If I were to go running, would you give me a bit of a head start?”

Michael leans in towards you until his nose is nearly brushing yours, and you almost forget what you had suggested. “Will five seconds suffice?”

You nod, though your focus is more on just how close Michael is to you.

“One,” he begins, stirring you out of your stupor. You take off running without any further hesitation, darting around random corners in the hopes of getting far enough away that it will take Michael too long to find you and he’ll give up.

You can hear Michael’s voice faintly as he reaches ‘five,’ and you giggle before holding up your skirts and continuing to run. Somehow you can still hear the music from the ball, even out here as you run past roses with colors ranging from the most delicate of whites to the darkest of reds. You can’t hear Michael anymore, and you think you’ve put enough distance between you. Good, considering the stitch that’s formed in your side from running, the bubbly champagne doing nothing to help you in that respect.

A stone gazebo sits just ahead, and you thank your lucky stars that there’s something for you to hide behind while you catch your breath. Darting over, you press your body up against the back of the column and take a few deep breaths. You only need a minute, and a minute is all you’ll get, for you’ve heard noises that sound suspiciously like footsteps near you. Peeking your head out, you confirm that the coast is clear before creeping out from your hiding spot.

Michael’s much better at hiding than you are, for you don’t realize that he’s behind you until he’s pushed you up against the other column. Your chest heaves from the adrenaline, and he grins as he cages you in with an arm on either side of you.

“Found you.”

“I feel like you might have cheated,” you comment, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips and back again. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anybody to kiss you as much as you want Michael to kiss you at this moment.

Michael just barely brushes his lips against yours, your eyes fluttering shut as you inhale a stuttered breath. One of his hands comes up to hold the side of your face, the other drifting over your waist. “Do you want this? Do you want me?” You nod, and Michael tuts. “Use your words, dearest.”

“Yes, I do.”

Finally, blissfully, Michael’s lips meet yours. The intensity with which he kisses you steals the air from your lungs, and you feel weightless, like you’re floating. It’s everything that a kiss should be, and you regretfully pull away only when you begin to feel the deprivation of air. You breathe heavily, but Michael continues with the affection as you try to catch your breath by trailing hot kisses down your neck.

“You’re good at this,” you manage to say with a shaking voice.

Michael hums a laugh against your skin, his voice as smooth as the petals of the roses that are everywhere in this garden, before coming back up to kiss you again. “Thank you. Are you enjoying yourself?”

Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Yeah, I’d say so.” One of Michael’s hands comes to rest on the top of your breasts, on display thanks to the tightness of your corset, and you inhale sharply in surprise. “Oh, now I’m really enjoying myself.”

“Come back with me to my chambers,” Michael says against your lips, continuing to tease his fingers along any inch of your bare skin that he can find, “so that I may ravish you in private, in a bed, the way that you deserve.”

“Michael.” Your head is spinning, and you don’t think you can string a coherent sentence together at this moment no matter how hard you try.

“My name sounds so sweet coming out of your mouth.”

“Michael,” you whisper again, smiling as you bring his chin up with your hand to press your lips to his once more.

“You can have everything and anything you want, precious girl. Just love me, trust me.”

“I…” You’re about to say yes, of course you love him, and give yourself over to him completely, because why wouldn’t you? This gorgeous man is besotted with you and willing to give you the entire world if you’d just ask. He’s all you could want of a partner, of a lover. Yet, something feels wrong. Everything is fuzzy, from memories to your current thoughts and even to the here and now.

“Do you love me?” Michael coos, continuing to touch any inch of your bare skin that he can find. It’s a wonderful distraction, but it’s even harder to focus on what you’re wanting to say, and you close your eyes to try and string just a few words together.

Before you can, though, you’re interrupted by the chiming of the large clock in the ballroom. Something about the sound is jarring, and you turn your cheek to Michael while you listen and try to figure out what’s so odd about the clock signaling the arrival of the next hour. Suddenly, you realize what it is.

You can hear the clock, when you absolutely should not be able to hear it over the noise of the party.

Michael strokes your cheek with the back of his hand, trying to draw your attention back to him, but you look up towards the ballroom. As a stark contrast to less than an hour ago, the hall looks abandoned. The lights are off, the doors are closed, and it’s completely, eerily silent, except for the slow peals of the clock. The crowd of dancers stand, still and silent, along the railing of the balcony that you had been at mere minutes ago. The roses and foliage of the garden are dead, the vibrant colors long gone from their petals and leaves. Even the gazebo you’re in is dilapidated, with holes in the roof overhead and cracks tracing along the stone. Your eyes are drawn to the shimmering membrane of what looks like a glass dome encasing this scene, and you feel in your bones that this is all wrong and that you need to get out of here.

Michael’s grip on you tightens as though he can read your thoughts, but you’re already wrenching away from him before he can properly entrap you in his grasp. You stare at his smirking face, though you can see the building panic in his eyes. “You don’t want to do this, Y/N,” he says. After a night of pet names, it’s mildly jarring to hear him say your actual name.

You’re already running before he can finish his sentence, following the curve of the glass barrier down until you can see the partition separating you from the world right in front of you. There’s nothing near you that you can use to break the glass, and you realize that you’re going to have to throw yourself at it. Taking a few big steps back, you sprint as fast as you can and throw yourself through.

It doesn’t shatter like glass, which is what you had been expecting. Rather, this nearly invisible cage pops like a bubble and creates a vacuum almost immediately that sucks up everything in sight, including you.

The ballroom begins to crumble and collapse, pieces of rock and debris falling past you and into the abyss below. The orchestra flies past, still dutifully playing their instruments even among the chaos. Leaves from the rose bushes swirl around, and the screams of the dancers are barely heard through the rushing of air in your ears. It feels as though you’re falling forever and for no time at all until the ground is rushing towards you at an alarming speed.

You land harshly on your back with an “oomph”, and you have to blink a couple of times before the world stops spinning around you. You’re back in the Labyrinth, Coco and Mallory hovering over you with worried expressions. You can see their lips moving, but you can’t hear them past the pounding of your own heart.

In your hand lies the peach that you had eaten, and you lift it up to examine what happened to make you fall into such a weird situation. The fruit is rotten, with patches of mold growing on the mottled flesh. From within, a maggot wriggles where you had taken a bite. Gasping, you hurl the peach into the forest before proceeding to roll onto your hands and knees and throw up every bite that you had consumed.

When your body has finally finished convulsing, you take deep, gasping breaths as you lean against a tree. Mallory’s there with a cup of water that you assume she’s conjured, Coco holding a (pink, of course) handkerchief. You gratefully take the water, noting that you’re still wearing the ball gown as you down the cool liquid in one large gulp. Coco wipes at your face, and you feel a bit like a child as she does so. Still, it’s appreciated.

“What happened to you? We reached the beginning of the road that leads to the castle, but when we turned around, you were gone.” Mallory explains.

“And why are you suddenly wearing a dress?” Coco adds.

You laugh, causing Coco and Mallory to look at each other in concern. “I’m never eating another peach for as long as I live.”

“O…kay,” Mallory says, feeling your forehead with the back of her hand as if you have a fever. “Maybe you should rest a little bit.”

“No!” Staggering to your feet, you take a second to make sure you can support your own weight before letting go of the tree behind you. “I only have an hour left to save Julia, and we’re–where are we?”

Before you stand a pair of gates made of bones, which is not at all comforting. The castle looms in the near distance, foreboding and stately. You’ve answered your own question just by looking: this is the city that proved to be the last hurdle before reaching the castle in your dreams. This is the Demon City.

///

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