#with no practical means of bringing my own food

[luckyladylily]

The negative reactions to HDG are really interesting to me because the "problematic" elements are certainly not new or even presented in an extreme form. I think there are a lot of people in the political left who treat independence and self determination as sacred concerns that should be placed above all other concerns - it is morally better to cling to scraps or even the illusion of self determination than to give it up for a significant increase in quality of life.

Several years ago, well before the first HDG stories, I had a discussion with one such person based around the idea of daily food preparation and how much of a burden it could be. The discussion came down to this: I put forward the idea a "freedom" is only useful to a person if they value it. Otherwise it simply becomes a burden. I made the claim that if I never had to manage determining when to eat, what to eat, or preparing that food again at the cost of never being able to choose what I eat, then I would make that trade without hesitation (assuming a benevolent someone choosing for me). The person I was discussing this with could not accept this, and we ran through all the reasons why until, ultimately, all they had left was "It feels like giving up." which they insisted important enough to override all other concerns.

My time, my peace of mind, my health, my happiness, even the fact that I have very little practical choice in what I eat anyway due to fatigue and financial limits, did not matter as much as what they saw as a moral imperative to cling to a scrap of self determination.

I think a lot of people who react so negatively to HDG that they have to go out of their way to harp on it are dealing with it on that level. Self determination and Independence are moral imperatives, and in that respect HDG is a deal with the devil. You get everything you ever want or need, and the only price is your soul self determination.

It brings up a few very uncomfortable ideas that challenge their world view, including: First, many people do not consider the pursuit of self determination for its own sake as an overriding moral concern - meaning their set of values are not necessarily objective. Second, many rational people would make this bargain. Finally, the amount of people in the world that would be much better off having made such a bargain is uncomfortably high because the scraps and illusions of self determination they have are basically without real value and our standard of living is just that low.

Makes people very uncomfortable to think about it, so it's easier to just say "You shouldn't enjoy HDG stuff because it's problematic!"

TL:DR - The fact is that we are so very far below the bar of a society that is acceptable on even basic levels that many people's standard of living has them looking up at being a favored pet to a benevolent owner. As a kink setup? That's hot. As an assessment of the state of affairs of our society? Very uncomfortable for some people to think about, so they get mad when people have fun thinking about it.

A critique I've seen of HDG is "you'd have no control over your life" and idk, I feel like I have so little control over my life now.

the main difference is here it's due to capitalism, ableism, and transphobia and I have to largely take care of myself. Whereas in HDG, I would be fed, clothed, my disabilities accommodated for, my transition would be done in a week And I'd have a large hot plant person caring for me the entire time.

If I'd have no control over my life, at least HDG is safe and sexy

[rhiannonsknife]

okay so we’ve all heard about mean jackie, the one who js uses r and wtv but what about a jackie who’s kinda obsessed with r but isn’t afraid to show it? maybe shes like all over r at school and especially at parties or after soccer practice/matches.

btw i js wanted to say i absolutely ADORE ur writing and its genuinely refreshing!!

── .✦ DATING JACKIE TAYLOR

— summary: dating jackie taylor hcs.

— warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff. established relationship. gn!reader. one brief mention of jackie’s death (my bad…). did not beta read.

— a/n: i hope this is enough fluff to make up for the insane amount of jackie angst on this blog…

jackie who loves physical touch and who’s lowkey so clingy with you.

she isn’t shy about physical affection. at all. whether it’s holding your hand in the hallways (partly to show you off, partly because she just wants to feel your presence) resting her head on your shoulder during lunch, or draping herself across you at parties, she always needs to be in contact somehow. jackie doesn’t care who’s watching. in fact, she wants people to watch, dwelling in the attention it brings: the little whispers and lingering glances from classmates as she casually tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear or leans in close to whisper something only you can hear. it’s not just about the spectacle; it’s jackie’s way of marking her territory, showing everyone that you’re hers.

jackie who loves when you stay after school to watch her practice or show up to her games.

after every match or practice, she’s practically glued to you. she’ll jog over, still sweaty and out of breath, and throw an arm around you. and if you’re wearing her jacket or an old jersey while cheering her on? fuck it: she’ll kiss you right there, in front of everyone. she’s a sucker for the post-match attention, especially after the yellowjackets have won (even more so when jackie is the one to score the winning goal): when it’s just the two of you and you invite her out for dinner to celebrate the victory <3 you usually stay longer to watch her practice, too. jackie insists on sharing her post-practice snacks with you afterwards, as a treat for waiting on the bleachers. even if you have your own food, she’ll claim: “mine taste better though,” only to pop a piece of granola into your mouth with a smug grin.

jackie who tries to act nonchalant about you…

…but fails miserably. she isn’t exactly mean, (okay maybe a bit) but if someone tries to get too close to you, her possessiveness does come out, no matter what. she’ll slip her arm around your waist, pull you closer, and flash her sweetest (but most fake) smile. “oh, hi! didn’t realize we were having a little gathering here” she’ll manage, squeezing you just a little tighter. at this point, everyone at school knows jackie is into you. she’ll stop mid-conversation to greet you, abandon her friends to sit with you, or even bail on a party if you’re not going. it’s clear to anyone paying attention that you’re her favorite person.

speaking of which: jackie always seems to know where you are in public places.

you honestly have no idea how she does it, but jackie finds you either way. she’s a literal human magnet, always attracting you or the other way around. whether it’s in the halls, at parties or soccer games, jackie will find you in the largest crowds. she doesn’t mean to be overbearing, it’s just that being near you feels right to her. you’ll instantly know it’s her, when a pair of arms wraps around you from behind and someone’s peppering your neck in kisses. “there you are” she’ll whisper gently.

jackie, who loves to make you blush!! <3

she’ll casually brush her fingers along your arm while whispering something flirty in your ear, or she’ll lean in just a little too close when you’re talking. (not that she could ever be too close to you) she lives for your reactions and they way she can watch your cheeks flush red. even when she can’t be there to see your reaction, only the idea of knowing you’ll be flustered all over again is enough for her to leave little notes in your locker that you’ll find by the time she’s already in a different class.

jackie, who keeps reminders of you everywhere!!

she keeps photos of the two of you in her planner or pressed into her notebooks, and sometimes you catch her smiling at them when she thinks no one’s looking. she might even replace her beloved heart charm necklace with a locket you’ve given her, keeping a picture of the two of you with her wherever she goes (okay okay this is too angsty to unpack but: jackie who takes this locket with her on the flight to the nationals…jackie, whose only reminder of you in the wilderness is the little, square shaped photograph of you…jackie who dies with her fist clutched around it. ANYWAY.) but ALSO: jackie whose locker is basically yours too. half of it is filled with your stuff: your jacket, a book you mentioned liking, even snacks you said you enjoyed. she’ll tell anyone who asks that it’s because “they always forget their things, so i’m just being helpful”

jackie, who gives you the cheesiest nicknames known to mankind.

and she’s only half joking too. she mostly does it to get a rise out of you and hear your laughter when she curls up against you and buries her face in the crook of your neck as she comes up with something hilarious like “babycakes”. your groan will only spur her on and draw a giggle from her lips as she pokes your sides playfully.

jackie, who will spoil you rotten.

you mention something briefly that you’d like to have? jackie will buy it for you. you’re out for lunch? she’s paying. you mention that you don’t have any nice clothes to wear? she’s taking you on a shopping spree with her dad’s credit card. especially for special occasions like christmas or your birthday, jackie is all over the place, ensuring to get you at least one big present that’s better than whatever your other friends and family have gotten you. she also insists on taking you to the nicest restaurants in town. jackie orders for you with 0 hesitation, knowing all your favorites, and never lets you pay. she’s doing it with the best intentions, though: it’s never about showing off or flaunting her/her parents’ wealth, it’s all about showing you how much she cares!!

jackie, who calls you in the middle of the night.

on the rare occasions when you’re not sleeping at the other’s house, she sometimes calls just to hear/fall asleep to the sound of your voice. you don’t even have to talk about anything important (though you will, most of the time). for jackie, it’s enough to recap her day, ask about yours, or just hear your voice. if you sound tired, she’ll tease you for staying up for her, though deep down, she appreciates it more than you know.

jackie who asks you to go to your prom before graduation together.

showing you off in the halls is definitely not enough: she is determined to take you to prom too, especially because it’s your last one before graduating. jackie would go all out for her promposal, i just KNOW IT: gathering your favorite flowers and leaving a heartfelt note in your locker. when you find her waiting nearby, she’s grinning ear to ear. she’d be so serious about it too, no matter how you feel about the formalities etc.! she insists on taking you dress (or suit!) shopping and makes sure you get the outfit you feel perfect in, even if it means trying on a dozen options. she beams at you every time!! <3 guys i’m having a moment here but also: jackie who gets you matching accessories for prom night!! jackie who instantly drags you onto the dance floor the second a slow song plays!! jackie who’s holding you close the whole time, whispering how much she’s going to miss moments like this after graduation!!

rhiannon stealing your clothes this, rhiannon stealing your clothes that. guys. jackie stealing your clothes!!

she insists on “borrowing” your hoodie or jacket all the time. but here’s the thing: she wears it in public constantly, not just around the house. she loves showing off that she’s got a piece of you with her wherever she goes. when you finally ask for it back, she grins and says, “you can have it… after you give me something else to steal” sometimes she’ll show up in clothes you don’t even remember giving her, grinning knowingly.

jackie, whose plans always include you.

whenever she starts making plans for the future, it is as if you’re an inseparable unit. it’s like she can’t even picture a life where you’re not right by her side. she’s got it all planned out, and it’s not like you’re complaining. the two of you were supposed to go to the same college anyway, but it still warms your heart to hear that she’s imagining a future with you and that you’re not limited to your highschool years.

jackie who’s so so proud of you no matter what.

she gets ridiculously proud of even the smallest things you do. did you answer a question in class or get a good grade? she’ll lean over and whisper, “you’re a genius.” scored a point during fucking gym class? she’s clapping loudly from the sidelines. “that’s my partner!” she’ll say to anyone within earshot. she’s your own personal cheerleader!! regardless of all of these things, she sometimes overthinks the whole situation. given the fact that she never cared for someone the way she does for you and that this is her first time in a truly loving relationship, she’s probably worried about doing things the ‘right way’. she’ll hesitate before asking if you’re happy with her, or quietly admit she worries about losing you. you’re obviously there to reassure her time and time again!!

jackie, who’s a hopeless romantic in denial!!!!

when jackie loves, she loves hard. before you, she hasn’t even known this side of herself, so she’s surprised to find out how much of a romantic she turns out to be. everyone notices how much softer and happier she is when she’s with you. the usual sharpness in her voice fades, and she’s all smiles and easy laughter. jackie is unapologetically obsessed, down bad, if you will!! she’ll always come up with something sweet to do with you, whether it’s dragging you outside to watch the stars at a party, hand-feed you popcorn during movie nights, or even burn a cd of your songs to blast in the car.



[medstudentblues]

11.22.24 Slow Days: A Quiet Escape from the Chaos of Medicine

Sometimes, the best moments come in the smallest of pauses — those rare times when you can step outside the rush of your everyday life and simply be. Today was one of those days.

After a canceled conference and a nap to recover from a lingering migraine, I spent the afternoon trying to reconnect with myself outside the hospital walls. My partner and I had an impromptu lunch instead of our planned dinner, an easy choice since I was already feeling hungry. We ventured to a hidden bar in a quaint spot, but the noise quickly became overwhelming for me. I realized how much I value quiet spaces, and we decided to move to a cozy cafe upstairs. There, we sat with a beautiful view of the cathedral — a place that always feels like home, with its timeless architecture. Churches have a way of grounding me, reminding me of something bigger than the chaos around me.

Over lunch (which was Japanese food and Coke — simple but satisfying), my partner shared an interesting podcast he’d listened to about the dangers journalists face today. It got me thinking. If I weren’t a doctor, maybe I’d be pursuing journalism, exploring the world with the same curiosity and urgency. It was a bit of a ‘what if’ moment, though my thoughts felt scattered and disorganized in the midst of everything.

We ended up taking a walk to a historic site — the place where our national hero was imprisoned the day before his execution. The air wasn’t too hot, though my feet ached from walking, I found solace in the slow pace of the day. I took plenty of photos, trying to reclaim parts of myself that have been buried in the busyness of medicine. I miss my hobbies, the simple things that used to bring me joy.

The evening wound down by the Pasig River, watching birds glide over the water. It wasn’t the perfect end to the day, but it was meaningful. There’s something peaceful about taking time to just sit, observe, and let the world unfold at its own pace.

I know that I want more days like this in the future. Days that are slower, more reflective, where I can live in the moment without the weight of constant urgency. I want to practice medicine, but I also want to live. And perhaps, in time, I’ll find a way to do both — even if that means being somewhere else, somewhere I can strike that balance.

For now, I hold onto today’s quiet moments, grateful for the peace and clarity they bring.

[morgenlich]

i’ve joked some about not wanting to return to food service now that i paint my nails, but also it’s…interesting. to look at my lab results since shortly after i stopped working at taco bell through my most recent blood work a few months ago, because with very little conscious effort on my part (and i’m frankly much less Active now than i was then), all of my vitamin issues, cholesterol red flags, etc, started out pretty bad. and now most of those things are fine. even the ones that are still not at a healthy level (looking at you vitamin d) are much closer to being a healthy level than they were. and i just think that’s interesting

[cryptictongues]

The Thrill of the Chase

pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 7.1K summary: Logan ate part of your sandwich, so you stole his cigars. Things turn out differently from what you were expecting.

warnings: fluff and smut, teasing, slight predator/prey trope, banter, making out, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting, soft!dom Logan

Author's Note: My first Logan fic! X-Men used to be my world and the fact it is making a comeback has rejuvenated me. Also, I was picturing Logan from the first three trilogies but DOFP!Logan also crossed my mind so :)

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It was getting close to evening, everyone doing their own thing to unwind after a long day of classes and teaching. You had planned to do the same thing, planning to grab a quick bite in the kitchen before getting ready to relax in your room. You were whipping up a quick and easy sandwich, assembling it onto a plate before moving it to the island in the middle of the kitchen. You went to get a soda from the cupboard, only for your skin to raise as you sense something is about to happen: a certain someone was about to come take your sandwich. 

“If you take one bite out of my sandwich Logan, I will kick your ass.”

You turn to see him, eyes wide along with his mouth, about to chomp into your dinner. He closes his mouth, only for him to keep the sandwich in his hands and an “innocent” smile on his face. 

“Oh, you mean this sandwich?” 

You shut the cupboard door, walking over to him with a stern, playful look. You know he is messing with you. That has been the dynamic of your relationship with him. Ever since he decided to stay here at the school and join the X-Men, you two have grown closer and closer, enjoying each other’s company over anyone else. It didn’t matter what either of you did. You both thrived in the presence of one another. 

But something that has become common practice as of late was playful in nature. You both have always teased, but it has recently ramped up. If one of you started it, the other would find a way to end it before starting again. It was the push and pull between the two of you that you loved, and it has only made you long for him. You want to believe he feels the same, but even your mutation of precognition can’t fully confirm that. 

“Yes, that is my sandwich. I worked very hard on it. I'll have you know.” You are standing in front of him now, having to look up at him slightly as you wait for his next move. 

“I’m sure you did. It looks delicious.” He says, but rather than looking at the food, he is looking right at you. Cheeky bastard.

“Y-yeah, which is why I am asking you to put it down so I may enjoy it.” 

“I don’t know. I think I wanna have a taste first.” 

His hazel eyes are staring you down, almost begging for you to make a move. In reality, you really didn’t care if he ate it. You could easily make another and enjoy dinner with him. But you know that isn’t what he is doing right now. He is playing with you, wanting to rile you up. Well, it takes two to play that game.

“That sandwich is very precious to me. I’d think before you act.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, bringing his face closer to yours. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll take something precious of yours.” 

He chuckles, turning his face to the sandwich. “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart.”

He takes a huge bite out of your sandwich, his eyes closing as he chews. You purse your lips, watching him savor your meal with gusto. You know he is overexaggerating to truly get at you, but little does he know you have a trick up your sleeve.

“Enjoying my meal?” 

He turns back to you, swallowing before licking his lips. “Very much. I may have to take another bite.”

You get up in his space, settling onto your tippy toes so your face is by his ear. You let your breath waft against his skin, causing a shiver to shake his core. You can tell he is anticipating what you will do, always highly enjoying your responses to his antics. Oh, he is so in for it.

“That’s okay. You can have it.” You let your pointer finger trace his collarbone that is very much on display from his white, fitted tank. “And you want to know why that is, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath, very apparent that your actions are doing something to him. His left hand lets go of the sandwich to settle on your hip, squeezing the flesh slightly to ground himself. It is actions like that that make you believe you do something to him. Like you drive him just as insane as he does to you. You bring your left hand to his head, pulling him down so you can really get into his ear. 

“That’s because I know where you keep your special cigars from Cuba, and I am going to take them.”

You couldn’t have run fast enough. You are already shooting for the stairs, taking two steps at a time as you speed to his room. You knew it had taken him a second to realize what had happened because by the time you got to his floor, you heard him yelling your name. 

You burst into his room, locking it quickly. It was only to buy some time, for you knew he had a key. You were giggling as you went to his bookcase, plucking out the blue, hardcover history book. You open it, and smile as you see the unopened cigars there in the deep hole where text used to be. Just as you close the book, you hear heavy footsteps reach the door and a jingle of keys.

You panic, needing to find a way out before he opens the door. You could run around him, but you needed a head start. You could hide and wait for him to leave but you knew he’d sniff you out. There was only one option left, and that was to go out his bedroom window. You hear the key enter the lock, and with a quickness you didn’t think you had, you unlocked his window and flung it open. Just as the door busted open, you crawled out. You grasped onto the ivy that clung to the school’s exterior and began to climb down. 

“Oh, when I get my hands on you, you are in for it!”

You look up to see Logan’s head popping out the window. He has a scowl on his face, but you could see the wild look in his eyes. You knew he was enjoying this, for he loves the chase.

“This is for taking my sandwich!” You yell, and continue making your descent. 

You hear the window close, which makes you go faster, knowing he is rushing down those stairs to meet you at the bottom. You could sense that he would go to the front door, so once your feet touch the grassy floor you run to the back door. Opening it quickly, you determine your next move. He is probably at the front, ready to intercept you, giving you the opportunity to hide somewhere. 

You rush to the hallway where many of the classes are held. You run into the first classroom you see, its door already open. You see the large oak desk at the back of the classroom, and quietly walk up to it. It has a space for leg room, so with haste you crawl in it, pulling the chair in carefully to not make any sound. 

Your heart was racing, adrenaline thrashing as you hid. You try to steady your breath, trying to keep quiet. The atmosphere has become eerie, the silence defying as you try to keep it that way. You try to listen for any other sounds over your pounding heart, when another wave of cognition hits you. You can see it clearly, where he finds you under the desk, hands on either side to block you in. You know you need to move on, so you go to move the chair, but you suddenly halt when you hear his voice boom nearby.

“Where is she?” 

You cover your mouth, trying to hold in your breathing as well as the gasp that almost shot from your mouth. His voice was coated in gravel, and absolutely primal. Even from afar, it was clear he was worked up, and it made you embarrassingly wet. 

You hear footsteps enter the hallway, heavy boots against the shiny wooden floor. At first, you think you may have a way out, hearing him pass the room you were in, but you aren’t so lucky because you hear him stop. You grip onto the book and your mouth, even though you know it will do absolutely nothing. You know he senses you, and it is confirmed when you hear footsteps enter the room. You hear him inhale deeply, exhaling with sigh only to turn into a deep rumble. 

“I know you are here.” He is slow in taking his steps, and each step gets closer and closer to your hiding place. 

He sniffs deeply again, growling this time around like he was a wild animal. “No point in denying it. I could smell you the second I walked into the hall.”

You know he will find you, and he will block you in. So you decide to take a risk before he closes in on you. You push the chair out far enough to crawl out, before standing up behind the desk. You put your hands up with the book in your left one, trying to show off a sign of surrender. 

“You have nowhere to go, dollface. No point in trying’ to run for I’ll snatch you up real quick.” 

“You must really want your cigars back to block me in like this.” 

He steps even closer, with him now standing right in reach of the book. He could easily grab it and take it, for he is much stronger than you. But he doesn’t make a move, staying glued to his new spot. You don’t know what’s running through his head, his eyes trained on you. It isn’t until he places his hands onto the desk that you take a step back and drop your hands. 

“You’re wrong.”

You raise a brow, not sure what he is getting at. “What do you mean?”

He smirks, leaning his body over the desk. “It isn’t the cigars I’m after. Not anymore.”

Your heart is in overdrive. You know the answer, it is becoming obvious. But you ask anyway. “Then what are you after, Lo?”

“I think you know the answer. Now it is a matter of will you let me take what’s mine.”

You want to give in. You are becoming more aroused by the second, but you are starting to really enjoy the chase. Seeing how much it gets him going, to see this side of him, only makes you want to push him more. You want to see what he will do, especially when he gets his hands on you.

You walk around the desk, book of cigars still in hand, getting closer to him until you are toe to toe with him. “What’s the fun in surrendering?”

He quickly blocks you in, the desk pressed against your back. He has the most seductive, but feral grin upon his lips, like he thinks he has won his prize. His head leans down to yours, forehead against forehead, before he whispers his next sentence against your lips.

“The fun is in what follows.”

His lips are on yours, desperate and needy. You can’t help the moan that leaves your throat, mind going hazy as his lips devour. You have craved him for so long, you want this to last forever. However, you cannot give into him like this. You will not make this easy for him.

One of your hands goes to the hem of his tank, fingers lingering before going under. He feels so solid, the coarse hairs on his tummy spread thick as you go to his left side. You can feel him shudder over you, and you try to hold back the smirk that wants to curve onto your lips. You move your fingers sporadically over the left side of his ribcage, causing him to jump back. This gives you the chance to run like hell.

“Hey! That’s unfair!” You hear him yell and it makes you giggle profusely. You must thank Jean later for letting you in on that little secret; that the broody, grumpy man with the metal bones was insanely ticklish. You wish you could turn to see his full reaction, but you are too determined.

You can hear him running right behind you, and you have never been more aroused. You shouldn’t feel so turned on by Logan chasing you around, but the thrill of the chase was seeping into your loins and you were addicted. 

More people had shown up around the school, meeting with friends to study or hang out for the evening. You were dodging people left and right, and everyone looked perplexed as they saw Logan charging his way towards you. Many of them probably assumed it had to do with the book you were holding, and while they would have been originally right, they are no longer even close. 

You don’t have time to hide again, not with him so close behind. You make it back to the stairs, hauling ass as you try to make it to your room. You can hear him right behind you, breathing heavily and grunting with each step. Your room is at the end of the hall, and you are basically flying with how fast you are running. The second you reach the door, you swing it open and throw yourself in before slamming it. You had gotten it shut, mentally pumping your fist in victory, but by the time you went to turn the lock, it was too late. The door flies open, sending you back a couple feet back as Logan stands at the door's entrance. 

“I have you right where I want you. No more running.”

If looks could kill, you’d be ash. He enters your room, closing the door behind him with his eyes staying on you. He takes one step forward, with him now hovering over your smaller form. The way he is looking at you makes your knees faint, for you felt you could hear what he was revealing with his stare. 

“I still know your weakness, Logan.” You smirk, holding the book up to your face to dodge any attack he was planning. It is pointless, you know, but it is the best defense you’ve got. 

“Do you now?” He walks towards you, in step with you as you go backwards. The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, telling you that you truly have nowhere else to go. He is right on you, grinning now that he has the upper hand. 

“I’m afraid that book won’t save you from me.” He snatches the book, tossing it to the side of the bed. 

You are in for it. You don’t know what he is planning, and the element of surprise has overcome you. However, with the way he is looking at you, you guarantee that what is about to happen will be just as exhilarating as when he was hunting you down. 

“What do you plan to do with me, hm?” You let your fingertips walk along his chest, dancing all the way down to his side like you did earlier. 

He is quick to grab your hand, bending down to lift you up in his arm before tossing you onto the bed, following swiftly as he pins both hands above your head. 

“Don’t even think about it. I know you all too well.” He growls through his teeth. “As for what I plan on doing, what’s the fun in telling when I can just show you. Would you like that?”

You simply nod, breathless at how he is handling you. However, that wasn’t good enough for him, as he takes hold of your wrists in one hand so his other one can grip your chin.

“I wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.”

You huff, getting frustrated already that he is dragging this out. With your legs still free, you wrap them around his hips, your heels digging into his back causing him to grunt. Your lips are practically on his, faint contact making you antsy. “Show me what you’ve been wanting to do with me.”

Your lips are squashed by his instantly, hunger and desperation clear. His hands go to your thighs, grabbing at the flesh. With your hands free, they go straight to his hair, gripping and tugging on it which causes him to moan hotly into your mouth. 

His hands travel up to the hem of your blouse, pushing the fabric up past your stomach before his hands go under. You moan at the contrast, rough hands, that have been through so much running along your unmarred body. He swallows what you give him, groaning happily at the effects he was causing.

You are in heaven. You never thought you would be here like this with Logan. You never thought you would be under him at his complete mercy. It makes a shiver travel down your spine, traveling right to your core that is a heated mess because of the man before you. To be with the man you have pined for is riveting, and you could cry that he seems to return those feelings.

You don’t know what triggers your mutation, but it is sudden. Your vision goes blurry, a strong aura surrounding you. It is overwhelming, a whimper bubbling from your throat as you see what is about to happen. Logan releases your lips with a grunt, looking at you intensely as you start to shake. You feel his rough hands cup your soft cheeks, stroking them gently. 

Your cheeks feel hot, your vision turning you into a horny mess. Your hands grip onto Logan’s chest trying to ground yourself to reality. It’s too much. Your visions rarely last long for they are just snippets of future events, but this was different. It was as if you were in a trance, and could feel everything he was doing to you. You don’t know if it is your heightened emotions, especially with him right on you. All you knew is that pleasure was present, and you were starting to fall apart. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You can hear his demeanor change, worry laced in his tone.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but moan, unable to control yourself. “I can feel everything, Logan.”

There is a pause, hands still touching your face. A few beats later, he lets his right hand go down, only to stop at your thigh squeezing tightly. 

“Tell me what you see, baby.” 

The rumble in his voice intensifies everything, causing you to grip onto him tighter. “Oh God please don’t make me say it out loud.”

You try to look away, but his left hand shifts so it is grabbing your chin. He forces your head back up, bringing his face down to yours like he had in the classroom. His breath fans over your lips, taking in the way they move as sounds leave them. 

“I’m fucking you, aren’t I? Making you lose yourself on my cock? Is that what you are seeing?”

You can barely talk, too enthralled in your vision. You grab the hand that is on your thigh and bring it to the top of your black pants. Logan gets the idea and angles it so he can slide his hand into them. His fingers brush over the fabric, feeling the damp spot that has formed drastically. You hear him curse under his breath, the vibrations hitting your lips as they brush against one another without full pressure. 

“Oh sweetheart, you are so wet.” He murmurs, pulling his hand out to bring it up to his nose, inhaling deeply before releasing a sound so feral that you could sob. “And you smell so fucking good.” 

You can’t help but nod, not knowing how to respond. All you know is that you need him. Need him to take you on your bed and do whatever he wants to you. You’ll take anything he is willing to give you, for all you want is for him to make himself known to you. 

His hand had gone back down to your crotch, cupping your pussy through the material. “Does she want more attention?”

“Logan, please do something.” You choke, your mind steadily coming back to reality, but still not fully letting go. You start to grind down on his palm, desperate for anything he will give you, but he removes his hand, going to the back of your head to grip tightly.

Damn him!

“I know she deserves something, but do you? Do you deserve me after getting me so worked up like that?”

“Logan, I am begging.” You cry out in frustration, your nails digging into his chest causing him to groan lowly. “I want you. God, I’ve always wanted you so please take what’s yours!”

He is back on you, kissing you till the air in your lungs dissipates. He starts to kiss away from your swollen lips, kissing down to your neck. He nips at your pulse point, going up to your ear to give it a light lick before going back down. With every kiss, he takes a deep breath in, which only makes him get more aggressive. Soft kisses turn to an open mouth lather to nips that could have easily broken the skin.

“I don’t think you know what your scent does to me. It draws me in every time.” He bites down particularly hard at your collar bone, and you wouldn’t be surprised if blood had come to the surface. 

His hands come back up to the front of your blouse, carefully unbuttoning the garment before revealing your breasts that are almost spilling out of your bra. His hands mold over the cups, squeezing hard and slow as he makes his way to your sternum. 

He is being so gentle with you, a complete 180 from how you thought this was going to go. He was so rough with you in your head, fucking you until you couldn’t even say a word. This side of him was endearing, but you crave more from him.

“For someone so feral for me, you sure are taking your time.”

He bites the top of your left breast, making you gasp at the sudden pain. “I don’t think you are ready for that side of me, dollface.”

Your right hand goes to his head, taking a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. You know he wants to absolutely ravish you, and if it’s some convincing he needs, some convincing he is going to get. 

“When I said to take what’s yours, I meant it. I want you to make me beg until I’m dumb, so fucking do it.”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Princess.”

His hands go under your top from the back, unclipping your bra before letting them resurface. He starts to yank your top off from the shoulders, only to smack your thigh that causes a light sting.

“Arch that back for me.”

You do as he says, allowing him to take the rest of your top off along with your bra. He flings them both across the room, only to do the same with his tank. You’ve seen his upper body plenty of times, as there would be instances in which he disregards it for a training session. But this? This was very different. It’s a different atmosphere, and rather than everyone getting an eye full of his muscular, hairy body, it is now for your eyes only. 

He’s looking down at you, pupils flared as he takes you in. You shiver as his palms stroke your tummy, slowly going up until they encompass your breasts. Your nipples pebble from the rough texture of his skin, and you can see it excites him. So much so that he takes the opportunity to take your nipples between his fingers and pulls them gently with a pinch. Your back bows off the mattress, adoring the pain he is providing, and let out a mewl as he lets go to run his thumbs over the tender peaks.

“You sound so good,” Logan murmurs. “I need to hear more.”

His right arm goes under your back to keep you up, holding you there as his mouth goes to your left breast. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking with his eyes still on you. Your cheeks flush, head tilting to the side to avoid looking at him. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 

Whimpers slip from your mouth, his treatment of your breasts making you want to rub your thighs together to soothe the ache, but he keeps your legs open. He eventually does the same to your other breast, working to match the work he left on your other nipple: hard, and tainted red.

He lets up, sitting on his knees as he unbuttons your pants, hands sliding the material down your legs in earnest. He tosses your heels off before stripping away your bottoms, and he hums as he admires the black, lacy thong you adorn. 

“Fuck,” he snaps the elastic, eyes entranced. “You sure you didn’t see this coming earlier? Wearing something sexy like this?”

“They work better with my pants.” You huff, his fingers lightly running along your covered slit.

“Hmm, no wonder your ass looked so good today.” He grins. “But this pussy? I could play with her all day.”

He lowers himself, sliding off the bed only to bring you with him, your body gliding across the comforter with ease. He clutches onto your thighs, letting your legs rest in the crook of his elbows. He keeps his hold tight, bringing his lips down to kiss and suck on your thighs. You gasp at the aggressiveness, swearing you will see dark purple marks on you later. You moan at the idea, as it feels like he is finally claiming you; like are his to mark, to claim, to fuck, to love. 

He makes his way to your center, sniffing deeply before releasing a feral growl. He lets the tip of his tongue lightly drag from the bottom to the top of your heat, still fully covered by the damned thong. He flicks at your clit, a ghost of a touch that has you bucking your hips. And he draws back every single time. His self-control is impressive but frustrating all the same.

He starts to suck on it through the material, creating a bigger wet spot with his spit. The more he pushed his tongue against your folds, the more the material would rub just right against you. It made you clench, panting at how much he is teasing you. He pulls away, blowing on your sensitive spot which only makes you whine.

“Awe what is it?” He chuckles, the vibrations barely hitting where you need him. “You want my tongue to play with you?”

His hand lets go of your thigh, fingers tracing the fabric before pulling it to the side. “Lucky for you, I love to play.”

He goes right in, mouth over your bud as he consumes your very being. Your hands shoot to his hair, not prepared for the onslaught of pleasure he is delivering. The swirls he is landing on his target is mind numbing, a tangible pressure that makes you want to curl in on yourself. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, the sound vibrating right on your clit. It makes you buck your hips up, but his left arm presses you down to keep you secure. 

“I know you want more, but you are going to have to be patient. I’m not done tasting this sweet pussy. Fuck, you are so sweet.”

You feel one of his fingers near your hole, circling it teasingly before pushing in. His tongue is back on your nerves, mouthing covering it to add slight suction. Even with his big fingers, it’s not nearly enough. 

“Logan, please add another.” You say, emphasizing as you clench down on his single digit. 

He sucks a little harder, ripping a yelp from your throat. Still, he listens and inserts a second finger with the first. He goes in and out, drawing sighs from your lips as he builds you up. His mouth is going crazy, moving his lips with a vengeance. Your blood is hot, traveling down as your release starts to come to the surface.

You can’t stop clamping down on his fingers, your pussy having a mind of its own. He is pistoning them now, causing your fluids to make its way down your ass onto the comforter. The sounds coming from his handiwork edge you further, your release imminent. 

“Oh God, Logan! I’m cumming!” 

Big mistake on your part.

He pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A smug look appears on his face, and you have the urge to shove his face back into your aching cunt.

“Your first time cumming with me will be on my cock, sweetheart.”

He pulls your thong down your legs and moves you back to the front of the bed. He stands before you, making light work of removing his belt from the loops of his jeans. His jeans are next, pulling them down with his briefs. 

You don’t know what you expected. You weren’t surprised with how well endowed he was, not with the way he is built. But to see it in person is so much different from your imagination. The details that your mind didn’t conjure up, especially the vein that starts from his lower stomach to the tip of his cock. It makes you salivate, wanting to run your tongue along it. 

“You like what you see, darlin’?” He noticed you staring, but you have no shame. Not anymore.

“Yeah, want it in my mouth so bad.”

He walks over to you, his cock in your face. His hand goes to your head, stroking the baby hairs that are starting to stick to your temple. “As much as I would love that, I am dying to give you the fucking you deserve, sweetheart. However…” he brings your head up closer to his cock, your lips not even an inch away. “How about you get it nice and wet for me.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You work up a good amount of spit, letting it drip from your mouth onto his hard cock. You start to lick at the sides, spreading your saliva all over until he is covered. You are basically making out with his dick, your lips and tongue moving like you had when you were kissing him earlier. It isn’t until you get to that vein of his that you start to go wild, licking it up and down. 

Logan is groaning deeply, and pulls your head back, a string of saliva connecting before breaking apart. You hear him curse under his breath before crawling back onto the bed, his hands holding your face as he brings his lips to you. His kisses are slow this time, letting it sink in that this is happening; that you two are about to be connected. 

“You did such a good job. You are such a good girl.” He murmurs against your lips before sitting up. 

His dick is now sitting heavy on your mound, and the weight of it feels delicious. He taps it against your clit a few times, your hips thrusting up in kind. 

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” He lets his cock rut into your folds, thrusting up into your clit. “I think that sweet thing of yours is.”

“Give it to me, Lo. I need you so bad it hurts.” 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take that pain away.” He promises.

And as promised, he places the tip right at your aching hole and pushes in slowly. Your jaw slacks, the pressure as he continues his descent much more intense than you anticipated. It’s been so long since you’ve given yourself to someone. It all feels new, and you are thankful; thankful that it's with him.

He is fully seated in you, and you can only describe it as euphoric. With the way he sits heavy in your cunt, filling you up completely, you can honestly say that this was meant to happen. Logan was meant to be with you in every single possible way imaginable. It’s the only explanation.

“How does it feel, baby?” Logan asks, hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly. 

“It feels,” you whimper, gripping down on him. “It feels so good, Lo.”

“Yeah? My cock makin’ you feel good, doll?” He groans, clearly being affected by your behavior. 

Before you can mutter a pathetic answer, your brain turning to mush, he shifts back. His cock slides out until the mushroom head is at your entrance, and then he slams back in; hard and slow. 

The constant back and forth of his cock has you shaking, his hard thrust knocking the air out of your lungs and the slow thrusts feeling oh so good. And with the way he is watching you, his face mimicking yours as he receives his own pleasure, is sending zaps of electricity to your cunt. It makes you grasp onto him hard as he gets you more worked up.

Logan sits up straighter, grabbing your right leg and bringing it up to his shoulder. His left hand keeps it steady as he speeds up slightly and presses gentle kisses to your ankle in the process. It lets him go deeper, kissing your cervix every time it goes in. The pressure feels incredible, and the more he speeds up, the more your cunt starts to spasm out of control. 

“That’s it, baby. You are taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me.” He growls out, biting your ankle. 

“God yes, Logan! I’m yours!” You cry out, him and his cock making you utterly delirious. “You were made for my pussy!”

“Fuck, you got a mouth on you.” He chides, his right hand going to your right breast.

He is squeezing your tit so tight; his hips are on autopilot with how fast he is taking you. Your hands don’t know where to go, going from gripping the fabric below to holding onto his wrist. He is putting you into a completely fucked out state, and you can’t get enough of that treatment. 

You can tell you are on the precipice of cumming. You are clenching on and off rapidly, no longer in control of your muscles. The sounds coming from your coupling, wet smacking echoes that are music to your ears. You can feel the telltale sensation of being overwhelmed, and you know you are now on the track of no return. 

“Logan, baby, I’m gonna cum!”

He snarls at you, a crazed look in his eyes as he slams into you. He lets go of your tit to grab your chin, keeping your eyes on his. “Do it, darlin’. Cum around my cock.”

You are over the edge in seconds, a silent scream taking over as you tremble and quake. Your pussy is convulsing like crazy, small gushes of liquid coming out. You see Logan look down at where you two are connected, and he is grinning like crazy.

“What a fucking sight. There isn’t one thing about you that isn’t pretty.”

You could sob at his words, especially with how overstimulated you are becoming. You work his cock, wanting him to cum inside of you. 

“Give me your cum, Logan. Fill me until I’m dripping.”

Your words must have triggered something because next thing you know he has let go of your leg and face and is falling onto his forearms with his mouth landing on yours. You hear the sound of his claws, completely unsheathed from his skin, causing him to bellow into your mouth, rutting like a madman which causes cum to leak out from your hole onto the bedding. 

He slows down, milking out the rest of his spend before stopping all together. He lets go of your lips gasping, face buried in your shoulder as he tries to calm down. Your hands go to his back, massaging the taut muscles as he shakes. 

“Fuck, Logan,” you sigh, catching your breath as you come back to earth. You feel so relaxed, even with your guts feeling completely rearranged.

You hear his claws sink back into his skin, and it is then that he pulls out, falling to the other side of the bed. His chest is going up and down with every heavy breath, and you can’t help but admire him like this. 

He turns his head over to you, his hand coming to grab the hand by your side. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You make it over into his side, head laying on his chest as you both bask in the post-sex glow. You can’t help but smile at this turn of events, not expecting to have been in this position with Logan. But here you are, laying on his chest with his arms around you. 

You notice something in your peripherals and see splintering from the headboard of your bed. There are six holes in the wood, and it sends you into a laughing fit, a euphoric glaze covering your entire body. 

“What’s so funny?” He asks gruffly, pulling you into side as you continue to laugh.

“Your claws pierced my headboard.”

You see him glance back, and you see him sigh, relaxing more into the mattress. “I’ll fix it up for you, darlin’. I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to say sorry.” You snuggle your face into his skin, breathing in his natural musk as you relax more into him. “I just can’t believe we did that, but I’m glad it did.”

“I can say the same.” He murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “Seriously, I gotta know, did you see this coming?”

You shift up, going to lay your arms across his chest only for you to rest on them. You look into his eyes and the need in them is still there, but not in the way they were before. They were searching, looking for any confirmation that what you both just did truly meant more. It makes him look vulnerable, something he rarely shows. It makes you smile at the prospect of him opening up even more. 

“Not until today. It’s strange now that I think about it.”

“And why is that?”

“I never saw you coming, I guess. Even when it is clear as day how you felt about me, I never got anything that told me it was real. I didn’t want to potentially screw anything up between us.”

He hums, a look of contemplation on his face before taking a hand and rubbing his face, a long sigh coming out in the process. “I suppose that’s my fault.”

You can’t help but look confused. His fault? “Why do you say that?”

“I haven’t been fully honest, but ever since I came here, no matter how welcomed and appreciated I am here, I have contemplated leaving.” His hand leaves his face to go behind your neck, lightly scratching the skin at the nape before continuing. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Having a family has never been in the books for me. It is easier to not let people in.”

“So, that’s why I couldn’t see you coming. You hadn’t made up your mind?”

“It’s possible, but it’s just a theory.”

“But, if that’s the case, have you made your mind up?” You start rubbing his chest with your palm, feeling his heart pulse slowly. You are confident you know the answer now, but you want to hear him say it.

He grunts in laughter, shaking his head slightly before letting his fingers curl around the back of your neck. “I think you know the answer, princess. But if you really want to know, come up here.”

You push yourself from him, moving so you are straddling his torso. He brings his hands to your face once more, pulling you down so you are face to face with him. He kisses you, slowly initiating intimacy with his lips. He isn’t saying anything, but you can feel what he is saying through the act alone. 

“I can’t close myself off from you,” he says between kisses. “And I don’t want to. Especially if you’ll have me.”

“I think you already know the answer to that, Lo.”

“Still, I wanna hear you say it.”

You pull away so you can look into his eyes, giving him all the sincerity you can muster. “I love you, and I want you to stand by me.”

He smiles teeth and all, and pulls you back down, kissing all over your face causing you to squeal. “Hmm I love you too, sweetheart. Always have.”

You both stay like that for a while, basking in each other's company in post-coital ecstasy by continuing to taste one another. Another thought came over you, and you can’t help but laugh again.

“If I had known sex would make you like this, I would have made a move a long time ago.” Logan jokes, breathing them in. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m laughing because it took me taking your cigars hostage to do it.”

Logan throws his head back, chuckling at what you presume is the same thing you are laughing about.

“Speaking of those cigars, can you grab them for me?”

You perk up, pushing away from him to lean over to your side of the bed. Your fingers stretch for the book, getting a grasp on it before getting settled back with Logan. He pulls you in quickly, hurdling you into his side. You see he has his lighter ready, which he must have grabbed while you were getting his cigars.

“You gonna smoke one?”

He hums, taking one out. “I only smoke these on special occasions. I think this qualifies.”

He carefully unsheathes a claw, cutting the end before it sinks back under his skin. He flickers the lighter, letting the bright flame linger on the end to get a good burn going. He then lays back, pulling you even closer into his side, before taking his first puff. 

You smile, laying your head against him as you let your eyes drift closed. You feel yourself drifting away, the smell of his cigar and the sound of his pulse lulling you to a deep sleep; a sleep with dreams that you hope feel like déjà vu in the near future.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

[curtins]

SALVATORE — jujutsu kaisen x reader minors dni

prologue. → going on summer vacations with the jjk men and things get a little...hotter?

pairings. satoru gojo x afab!reader / suguru geto x afab!reader / nanami kento x afab!reader / choso kamo x afab!reader / ryomen sukuna x afab!reader / toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings+. non-sorcerer/jujutsu au, from the back, exhíbitíonism, mild food play, ríding, máting press, creámpíe, against the wall, oral (f. receiving), fíngeríng, hey even in a cave! reader is called good girl, princess, baby, darling, my love.

word count. 4.1k! song inspiration. salvatore — lana del rey

a/n. update #1 writing this fic had me looking up shit on wikipedia pages abt cities around the world, had me checking meteorology maps...tried to choose cities i've been to but i was still racking my brains. update #2 btw whenever i write smut like this i'm filled with outstanding self awareness and minor shame but thats the fun of it 😭 this is day no.3 of me trying to rewrite this all from scratch update #3 day 4! fawkkkk i wanna go on holiday too now. lmao if i was in the sukuna one, i would have been mad as hell, istanbul is stunning <3

mp3. everything looks better from above my king, like aqua marine, ocean's blue

TOJI FUSHIGURO — all the lights in miami begin to gleam 📍 miami, america

"o-oh, fuck. think she's really tellin' me to keep going like this, don'tcha think?"

your boyfriend is mean when he's like this. sharp, jade eyes narrowed as they take in the sight of your puffy folds swallowing him up over and over as he's stuffing himself into your sticky walls. and if you turn your head away, from where you're smashed against the pillow, you can see the floor-to-wall ceilings of the high-rise penthouse that offers an uninterrupted view of miami's glittering skyline.

"how - how, did you even get this place, hah, toji?" it's a wonder you can even get a coherent sentence out right now, your guts are practically being stuffed with inches of your boyfriend's veiny cock, and it's leaving you, well, delirious.

but with humble credit and thanks to what you can assume is your own nasty grip, toji's not faring much better either. his brawny frame is practically shuddering, and while you can't see his face in this position, you're certain that a sharp canine has sunk into his lip, and his breath is coming out in hulking groans.

"heh, you're n-not meant to ask questions like that, princess? gotta, ohhh, gotta keep some business s-secrets up my sleeve, huh?" and he's practically a beast right now, handling you on all fours of this king-sized bed, draped in silk sheets the colour of red wine, "just a reward for a-, haah, a job well done."

any job well done from toji was most likely something illegal, but you can't even bring yourself to care, not when there's a bucket of chilled champagne on the glass table to your left, and certainly not when his fat cock is smearing right through you, leaving a coil in your abdomen that only he can unravel.

you whine, feeling the fat tip of his cock practically rummage and make a home in your cunt, "toji, wan' more," and you're pushing the plush of your ass against his pumping hips, and you hear his sharp intake of breath.

a rough hand has snaked underneath you, creating a small gap between you and the bunched-up fabric on the bed, and his callous fingertips are now circling sloppy, messy circles over your clit, leaving you bucking in his hold.

"n-now, stay still, princess. not done with you yet."

SUGURU GETO — ciao, amore. soft ice-creams. 📍 amalfi coast, italy

you're not sure how long you've been trembling under suguru's mouth, but it must have been an eternity under the ministrations of his tongue.

the sun has been blazing high, casting a golden glow over this part of the private beach, hidden away from the towns bustling with tourists like yourselves who had descended upon the coast for the summer.

soft waves lapped in ebbing waves, the rhythm breaking the perfect stillness of the afternoon, in this wooden cabana, separated from the terracotta villas.

and no, your mind was nowhere near admiring the turquoise waters of the ocean, but rather your lover's mouth practically exploring every inch of your cunt like this.

the tapered tip of his tongue had long been probing around your fluttering pussy, taking in every last drop of your pearlescent luster that was practically dripping over his chin.

not to mention the absolutely sticky and languid trails of melting ice-cream, each biting cream drop that fell on your hot swollen folds getting promptly cleaned up by the one who was enjoying this sweet game.

"shhh! don't wanna get kicked off this beach, do ya, pretty?"

and suguru looks positively devious, his violet eyes gleaming with crude intent. his black hair is a tangled mess, long locks falling victim to your clawing nails that tumble carelessly over his bare back, kissed by the sun and glowing with a soft, rosy pink hue.

and when he smiles, the sunlight catches onto his lips, making the slick on his mouth sparkle and wink up at you.

"been - it's been an entire hour by now, can't you just let me cum," you huff, closing the plush of your thighs around his ears, boxing him in.

geto flashes you a mischievous grin, running a slow finger through your sopping folds, and lightly brushing over your entrance as you mewl again.

"where would the fun in that be, pretty?" he murmurs, "love seeing how wet this cunt gets for me, need to let me have my fun."

what a devil. clearly, getting under your skin is a sport for him.

you're hardly given a moment to breathe before he's jostling two thick digits right into the thick of it once more, in and out, in and then out, as his thumb find its home on the slope of your bare mound again.

"besides, we can take it slow for 'nother hour, can't we?" and now suguru's toying with your clit, and his teeth lean down to graze the swollen, throbbing bud, "gotta see just how much you can beg for me."

NANAMI KENTO — catch me if you can, working on my tan 📍 gold coast, australia

"w-wait, darling," nanami shudders under your touch, under your fresh set of nails raking small patterns over his neck, "anyone could just walk past here, y'know."

you curl your lip, before pressing your mouth in an open mouthed kiss to his stretched neck, warm and flushed.

you can feel the galloping thrum of his pulse beneath your lips, the heat almost intoxicating, mingling with the faint tang of the pool water's chlorine, and the scent of banksia and frangipanis in the air.

you can also feel his thick cock dragging through your walls, as you ram the weight of your hips over and over again. it seems like the shimmering skyline of surfer's paradise was just what nanami needed, after months of work, and you're determined to make the most of your time here.

he's got you bouncing practically like a ragdoll, heavy balls swinging up and smacking your skin in what little space remains between the two of you, and he's panting into your chest, "whatd'ya gonna do if someone sees?"

"mhm, don' care, no-one's here, nanami."

his broad arms loop around you in the pool chair, as you straddle the sizeable bulge that's making a tent in his briefs, "nasty, sometimes, aren'tcha?"

you smile, as your husband's large hands roam over your back, making you arch your back into his touch — as he deftly pulls at the tight knot holding your damp bikini top together.

"ah, don't get shy now. let me see these," and you can only nod hazily as he lets your tits spill out, and press up against his bare, chiselled torso, "wanted this so bad, just a minute ago, yeah?"

"s-still want this," and for good measure, you grind your hips down over his cock with even more pressure, feeling him jolt with a quiet 'fuck!' underneath you.

"haah, that's not fair, darling," and he's crashing his weeping, curved tip so far into you, that you're certain you're seeing stars on the saltwater horizon, "what happened to playing nice?"

you know you should be weary of the flicker of challenge that glints in his stern brown eyes, softened by the haze of your squelching cunt, "do y-your worst, otherwise what? can't keep up?"

a cocky smile curves over his mouth, and that's the wave of satisfaction you were looking for, hoping that he'd take the bait.

he leans further back in the pool chair, now with an arm wrapped lazily around your gyrating hips, but you can feel his grip tighten, stealing the humid air right out from under you, "we'll see who can't play nice when you're begging for my cock to fill you up."

CHOSO KAMO — all the lights are sparkling for you, it seems 📍santorini, greece

"hey, shh, shhh..."

choso's voice is a low rumble as he glides his thick, leaking tip down your slick core, and you shiver as the cool ocean breeze mixes with the warm slick gathering between your bodies, "w-wow, you're doing so good, handling it so well, my love."

you must have made a good choice, choosing this suite. one carved seamlessly into the tan-rock of one of the island's famous caves. and well, your sweet boyfriend has been fucking you so incredibly that you feel your eyes start to water, blear away from the pretty blue and terracotta accents on the mantelpiece.

his girthy cock sinking into you send shivers to your pussy that leave you fluttering and squeezing around him tighter, clenching around the veins as he sinks even deeper, so the thickened head is practically kissing your cervix, and filling you in ways you didn’t know were possible.

"d-does it feel good for you too, cho?” you gasp, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the soft choppy strands that fall around his shoulders, "this...this is what you wanted, right, baby?"

the pale mauve of his lips curves into a faint smile, and despite the sharpness of his thrusts making a home in your gummy walls, there's a tenderness in his shadowed, hazel eyes as his palm glides down your torso, cupping your tits gently, "w-would go anywhere in the world, if it was with you."

and he's looking at you with such love that you just cannot help but believe him when he says, no, shudders out a "you're so beautiful."

the sound of the water lapping against the rocks below fills the room, mixing with your soft whimpers, as the slow roll of choso's hips leave your puffy folds weeping. the thick, throbbing head of his cock brushes against your g-spot, right there, and you moan, lost in the sensation.

"god, y-you’re so good at this," he breathes into your ear, his voice hoarse and strained, and suddenly far more shaky, "ah - could do this forever."

"w-will you?" you whisper, eyes fluttering as you lose yourself in what is surely ropes of stringy white cum painting you lovingly inside, "wan' feel you all the time, cho."

choso's misty, flushed gaze locks onto yours, filled with a heat that makes your heart race, and fireworks shoot through your abdomen, "think you're g-gonna be my wife someday, yeah?"

you bite your lip, a shy smile painting your face despite the way that he's practically jostling inch after inch into your pussy, pressing into you like a vice, "really mean t-that, cho?"

"ahh, 'course i do," he shudders, brushing a thumb down the swan-arch of your neck, "now, hold onto me."

RYOMEN SUKUNA — dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily 📍istanbul, turkey

"huhh, oh my god! you're an animal," you huff at your fiancé, who's currently sprawled on the plush bed underneath your straddling thighs, under the sheer curtains that billow softly in the warm breeze from the open latticework windows.

and right now, sukuna looks like a mess.

and it brings you a great deal of satisfaction to see your usually composed and aloof fiancé so undone and disheveled, as he grins up at you — the black markings on his face creasing with the movement.

his rosy-pink hair is a tangled heap, but you can't resist running your fingers through the short, tousled spikes.

and his lips, which have been marking you up consistently for the past ten minutes, gleam glossy and full, as his crimson eyes lock onto yours with the smug satisfaction of a cat who's gotten its way.

he'd barely waited a mere minute after the two of you had arrived back to your hostel's room, from a whirlwind tour of the sultanahmet district, before he had pounced on you, and had practically tore your long skirt off.

you don't quite think it's worth mentioning that you've been pawing equally at your boyfriend in the same time as well, pulling his thick and lengthy shaft out of the confines of his boxers, and swiping a thumb over the angrily-gleaming tip.

"d-didn't even take a second to think about all the places we just saw? the history lessons, and - sukuna, were you even listening?"

by now, you're fighting back heaving shivers at the way the pads of his calloused fingers run under your top.

"hah! yeah, yeah. history and all that," he murmurs, low and amused, but his focus is clearly elsewhere, his lips now resuming their previous task of snapping at your torso, letting pretty berry-red marks beam.

you roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of your own glossy mouth, "y-you're impossible," and you try not to squirm as his forefinger and thumb on each hand pinch at a nipple under your top, "don' even know why i bothered bring this...this camera around. the guide said that these sights were o-once, oh fuck, sukuna, get a grip, said the sights were once-in-a-lifetime b-breathtaking."

"breathtaking, huh?" sukuna shifts closer to you, scooting you further over his wide lap, and his voice has dropped to a low and sultry whisper that sends a shiver down your spine, and leaves you aching, "i think you're breathtaking. wan' explore this," and here, he snaps at the elastic band of your lace panties, "instead."

"and besides, i was listening," and now, he's patting his sculpted, exposed thighs behind the plush of your ass on him, "the guide said that this city straddles two continents."

he's emphasising his words with a deliberate tap, clearly hoping you'd catch the awful word-play.

"say something like that again, and i'm booking the next flight home."

"hah, so now you hate it when i am cultured."

by now, his two rough hands kneading at you has left you...airless. thick heat has been pooling in your core, and you just can't help but let out a soft whimper, "sukuna…only wanted y-you to focus."

he shakes his messy head, laughter rumbling deep in his chest, under thick pectoral muscles, "no can do, brat. you’re my focus now. done enough sightseeing outside today, wanna do something inside."

"you’re impossible!" but you gasp as he skims a thumb over your cloying, dewy clit, making you jolt.

you know he must be in a rare, mellowed mood because he breathes, "impossibly in love with you," and it's quiet, teasing as the heat of his breath ghosts over your skin, "now tell me how much you want this, and maybe i'll think about giving you a different type of lesson."

franky, by now you want nothing more than to be filled with heavy, hot inches that curl into you, sloshing their way to the most sensitive spot of all, and sukuna must see that on your face.

"i -," you begin, but the words falter as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, and the weeping tip of his cock taps against the wet pool staining your underwear darkly translucent.

"just say it, brat. tell me how bad you want it, i'll even be nice this time," he urges, his voice a sultry purr, "just gon' give it to you as you ask, yeah?"

"wan' you in me, 'kuna," you finally admit, breathless, "i want you so much it hurts."

"good girl," he mutters, his eyes darkening with desire. "now you're getting the right idea."

you sigh, content, but then still your rocking hips suddenly, "but after this, we're still going out to the bazaar for dinner."

"for fuck's sake."

GOJO SATORU — like a boss, you sang jazz and blues 📍paris, france

you're not quite sure where exactly you should be training your ears, whether you should be listening to the sultry notes of a saxophone that wrap around the plush velvet booth where you and gojo are seated.

or the thick, clingy swish of his fingers practically bullying themselves in and out of your pussy. the air is thick with the scent of expensive cigars that make you wrinkle your nose, and fine whiskey (that makes gojo wrinkle his nose) and the sweet tang of your own slick, privately, just for the two of you.

your boyfriend sits close to you, his left hand tight on your waist, and the other working a fine instrument, bunching up underneath your ysl silk dress.

"baby, look at how your perfect cunt's talkin' to me," he's whispering, and you can hear the sheer glee in his voice, his breath hot against your ear.

meanwhile, your jaw is slack and you're doing your best to not meet his touch with a sultry, rhythmic grind of your own hips, but the knot is quickening and tightening within you.

but gojo just smiles, and you can see the blue in his eyes darken underneath his sunglasses that have slipped slightly down the slope of his nose, "but can't have everyone hearing this melody, can we? might think you were the main fuckin' attraction for the night and not -" he cocks his head to the quartet serenading the paris night sky, and the other patrons of this filthy wealthy club.

you just sink your teeth into your painted lip, suppressing a whine as he curls three fingers within you, reeling you entirely pliant and having you lean against his broad chest under his jacket, "b-but satoru, 'm getting close."

he's being awful, you think. and when he had pulled his hand out earlier, it had been entirely coated in a ribbon of your arousal, the slow syrup beginning to run down his slender digit, but he had parted his lips and let not a drop go to waste on his tongue.

the music is swelling, it's a jazzy crescendo that fills the air, and your gaze hazes and wonders, focusing on the open window where the eiffel tower stands ablaze in lights. soft gasps are escaping your lips, when gojo starts slamming his fingers up and up further, right up to his glossy knuckle, clearly searching for your g-spot.

and you are so glad that this booth is turned away from the rest of the club's patrons, for if they saw you, it would be no secret as to what exactly was going on underneath your gown.

"focus on me, love. just focus on how you're soaking me."

he's pressing his fingers impossibly deeper, stroking your walls in a way that make it impossible to think of anything else but him.

"gojo, please…" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice low, "what if someone sees?"

he laughs, pressing his mouth to your neck, and you know he's inhaling the new scent that you had picked up at the luxury flagship stores earlier, his treat.

"let them. paid good enough money to get in here," and now he's getting more insistent, practically ravishing your aching pussy now, "besides, they wanna say anything about it? i'll cut out their tongue."

"p-pretty sure that's, mmph, i'm sure that's i-illegal, 'toru."

"don't want your pretty head thinking about anything else right now, 'kay?" and god, it's one of life's greatest works, how he just knows how to work his magic like this, and the way that he's pinching, rolling and twirling his fingers has you convinced that the holy six-eyes technique, passed down in the sacred tradition of the gojo clan, is being put to nasty work.

sure enough, a little spark! there, and a bigger zap! against your clit practically confirms your suspicions, as does the unearthly glow you catch in gojo's wide eyes, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards a precipice, panting open-mouthed against him.

"dirty girl, you don’t want to make a scene, do you?" he says this like he was not the one who pulled you into this booth, and palmed his way up your slip-dress. like he's not the one who tore into your lace panties, and shoved them into his pocket.

"it feels so good, satoru,” you babble, barely able to contain yourself, as he scissors his fingers wide, nudging your walls apart, "i can’t — "

"then don't," he interrupted, his voice low and commanding, "just let it happen. i want to hear you, i wanna hear her too, but only if you can keep it down."

you nodded, breathless, watching as waiters in impeccable black-and-white attire glide between the tables, carrying trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres and glasses of dom pérignon.

"good girl," he murmured, his fingers curling just right, pushing you closer to that exquisite precipice, "now, be quiet and enjoy the moment."

just as he pinches your clit, you feel everything around fall away in shattering starfall. bolts of lightning shoot and splash through your lungs, stilling your heart, leaving your cunt pulsing with a life of its own, fluttering against satoru's fingers which still haven't stopped.

it's only then you realise that the band has stopped playing, and the other patrons of the clubs are leaning out of their seats, slapping their hands together in fervount applause.

but you can only stare, dazed and boneless from the remnants of an excellent fucking orgasm, as gojo leans in, just over the shell of your ear.

"how about we go back to the hotel room? wanna see an encore?"

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITAH for telling my wife no?

My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.

Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.

Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.

A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.

Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.

I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.

When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.

She told my parents the promotion included relocation.

I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.

What are these acronyms?

[bitchimasnake-sss]

hi lovely🥹 i'm sorry if i am being unreasonable, but may i ask, for more stories of stepbro!op monster trio? sorry to bother 🥹🫂

you guys are never unreasonable!!! unless, you like ask me to write actual incest cause frankly that goes beyond my (very lose) morals. but step-brothers? we love (fictional) step-brothers. you got it! like always, also adding ace and law!! hope you enjoy, pretty <3

☆thinkin' about: the monster trio, ace 'n law! vs familial relations, shh!

NOT PROOFREAD. JUST UTTERLY HORNY AND PERVERTED. tw: CONCEPT OF STEP-CEST, PORN LOGIC, DUB-CON. BIMBOFICATION. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. [i.e. if you do not feel okay reading such concepts, please scroll/click away. thankyou in advance.] cw: lots of porn logic. set in modern au. nsfw includes: a lot of overstimulation blowjob, cockwarming, penetration, cunnilingus, fingering, some bondage and use of toys and smex. lots of smex. MDNI OR I WILL ACTUALLY FIND YOU USING BLACK MAGIC. SIT THIS ONE OUT, KIDS. m.list

🍒monkey d. luffy: your favourite meal, 'nichan!

❤️monkey d. luffy is not quite sure which he loves more, you or food. because when he entered the kitchen in the dead of the night, he only really wanted to eat something to soothe his insatiable hunger. how lucky, he found you there instead! "l-luffy," you squirm under his tight grip on your thighs as his tongue swipes against your clit once more. when he looks up, his lips are drenched in everything you, "what?" "someone's gonna see." you mumble, trying feebly to pull at his hair and get him to part with your pretty pussy. but luffy just holds you down tighter on the kitchen counter, making sure your trembling cunt doesn't run away from him. he's still hungry, after all. he gives you a dopey smile, the kind that has you believing all of his false lies, "nobody's gonna come, pretty." he licks a soft stripe up your wet pussy, softly chuckling at his own joke, "i mean, you will." "nobody will?" you echo innocently, words falling down your wobbling lips so easily as he pulls your hips to himself and starts feasting like a man ravished. he moans against your folds, "nobody, i promise." his nose nudges against your clit so dangerously well, his tongue slides into your sickly sweet hole so easily and as he fucks up the muscle into you, you swear you feel his tongue stretch as if to hit you g-spot. "l-luffy, ohmygod," you practically feel yourself drip onto your step-mother's freakishly clean counter tops and half-heartedly try to think of a lie to tell her when she asks you about the stain. "tsk," you step-brother shakes his head so softly around your cunt, pulling back his drenched face just to nudge his digits into your hole instead, "don't worry about the mess, i'll clean it up all by myself." and from the way your step-brother was licking at you clit, drinking in every candied, syrupy essence out of you, you were sure he meant it. "just relax, and let me have my share." he husked into your bundle of nerves, right hand pumping and curling into your heat, "i got the rest, peach."

🍀roronoa zoro:

💚"zoro?" you ask so softly, and your voice echoes back towards you from the empty changing room. your step-brother had asked you to come see him once his practice was over. he claimed it was an emergency, and wouldn't you be a terrible younger step-sister if you ignored your brother in a dire situation like this? "in here." his voice echoes from the shower as you meekly find yourself walking to one of the closed stalls. calling out again, you stand in front of the stall, "zoro?" the door opens momentarily and you're pulled in by his sturdy hand on your wrist. as soon as your gain some semblance of sanity, you're face to face with your step-brother. the shower is still running in the background, and water droplets softly run down his ripped, naked body. "what's the emergency?" you ask softly but zoro brings his hands up to your lips, softly swiping his thumb across your pouty bottom lip before meeting your eyes. he rasps, "i had a shit match. 'm so angry right now, think you can make it better, pretty?" you nodded, knowing just what would cheer your brother up. after all, that's what a good step-sister should do! sinking down to your knees, you gaze up at him one last time before softly grabbing his aching, erect cock in your hands. zoro moans at your soft touches, and it spurs you to lick his tip leisurely. your hands move up and down over and over again as his tip slips past your lips. you taste his beading pre on your tongue and your thighs rub against each-other as you feel the wetness build up in your panties. "good girl." zoro husks, throwing his head back and guiding you to softly take more of him in. he tastes like he always does: sea-salt and something tangy, and you hum around the familiar taste, "jus' like that, so, so good for me." you hum around him again, gagging just a little bit as his tip kisses the back of throat, "r-really?" "of course." zoro hums, pulling you off his aching cock to let you breathe, "think ya can take it whole?" you nod with conviction and the green-haired jock smears his tip across your lips, smirking down at the way you part your mouth to let him line it easier, "cute." he guides you to take him past your glossy lips, "take it. take it whole."

🫐vinsmoke sanji:

💙"and how does this one taste?" sanji asks innocently, feeding you a bite from the cake he had baked, "good?" you nod, words wobbling, "'s r-eally good, sanji." "awh," your step-mother claps, "'m so glad you both are working hard together for the bake sale! alright, i'm off to the market. be good, both of you." "of course." sanji nods and you feel him press his erection onto you from behind. teasing you. telling you just what was waiting for you. you were lucky that your lower halves were hidden by the kitchen island otherwise your step-mother would have seen that sanji had his hands down your shorts, teasing your clit while pretending he was such a saint. as soon as you both hear the woman slam the front-door and leave, sanji drops his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent like a man crazed. his forefinger and thumb pinch your clit so meanly and you buck into him as a result, "s-sanji." "don't you think you should thank me?" your step-brother rasps, pulling your folds apart so he could thumb your clit better, "i helped you bake for your sale." "th-thankyou." you stutter at the way his fingers keep circling your sensitive nub, "how should i... thank you?" "let me make you cum." he hums definitively, slipping his hand further to let one finger inside you, "ah, you always feel this good. 's almost addictive." "it... it is?" you buck into his hand, desperately rutting to get the friction on your clit from him. but sanji never let you beg, ofcourse. he riles you up instead, "what's that, baby? want more?" and the blonde shoves another finger without you nodding. curling his digits, he moans at the way your gummy walls clench around him, how your wetness was dripping down his hand and wetting your short, how you brought your own up hand to your tits to play with your perky nipples. "you're so cute." sanji hums, pumping into you without faltering, "come on, pretty girl. cum all over me. let me taste you."

🦋portgas d. ace:

🧡"tsk, wrong again?" your older step-brother softly shakes his head. if it weren't for the slight smirk in his tone, you would have thought he was seriously disappointed in you. "'m sorry." you mumble, hips squirming as as he wraps his muscled arms around your waist to hold you still. he rests his head in the crook of your neck, softly whispering to you, "y'know i had to skip hanging out with my friends to help you do this assignment. and now? you're getting all of them wrong." "i cannot focus..." your voice trembles and he laughs in return, "really? why not?" he hums, "you know how busy i am, right?" and you did! you knew he was busy with his own things and asking for his help over this uni assignment was stupid... but, he was always so good at teaching, that you had to ask him. "tell me..." he wonders aloud, "why cannot you focus?" but how could you? you were stuffed full of your step-brothers cock. his length stayed unmoving inside you, and the way you could feel every little vein against your velvety walls. he was so mean! he said he would fuck you once you finished your assignment, until them let him cockwarm in you. but it had been so long and he was still unmoving!! "ah, well... you know the punishment." he whispers in mock distress, and your pussy trembles against his length in anticipation. his hand comes down on your clit. a harsh, little slap that has you dripping down his length and wet both your clothes. "try again." ace says definitively, "c'mon, you're surely not as dumb as you're acting." and then, something clicks. "hah, unless..." your step-brother's fingers come down to tease your exposed, overstimulated clit again, "you're purposefully getting them wrong because you want me to do..." he slaps your cunt again, "this?" "no!" you shake your head, voice growing even weaker, "i- i didn't. promise." but he just grins, "shit. if you liked that so much, should've told me sooner, princess."

🪻trafalgar d. water law:

💜"you know i need to practice, right?" your step-brother repeats and you nod in return, "i... i know. don't worry, law." you knew he was a med student, and you knew how important it was for him to be able to understand the human body from a close, physical point of view! and especially, for him to better examine women, he needed to understand them well, didn't he? and well, that's where you came in. you lay in his bed, your arms and legs tied to the leg posts as law peers down at you, "let me just see how you react, okay?" you nod and law brings the buzzing toy to your glistening cunt. as the vibrator comes in contact with your exposed clit, you involuntarily jerk your hips away, eyes clenching shut in delight. your hips stutter all-too-pathetically and law takes the toy away to note something down. your tattooed doctor looks down at you as if scrutinizing you, "hm, feel good?" and you can't help but nod desperately, "y-yes." "then, tell me." there's this sadistic glint in his eyes, "i told you, talk to me through it. how else would i know how you react, right?" "i-i'm sorry." you catch your wobbling lips under your teeth, a sorry expression plastered to your face as law slowly brings the toy back to your anticipating body. "f-feels good, law." you stutter as the toy constantly nags against your sensitive nub, and law nods as if he's serious, "does it? describe it better for me, could you?" "it feels..." your words get stuck in your throat, eyes widening at the lewd things you're about to say. you avert your gaze, "i- don't wanna say such things." "oh?" law quirks an eyebrow, his lips pressed into a thin line as if unveiling his disappointment. your stomach drops at his reaction. after all, what kind of step-sister were you?! he mumbles gravely, "but it's for my study, y'know that. there's no shame in helping your older step-brother, right?" "i-" your step-brother gives you a re-assuring nod, and your voice trembles as he teases you, "it f-feels good... like my body's gonna explode, an-and it's good." "it's good?" he repeats and you nod, trying to rest your eyes on him despite your squirming body, "y-yes." "that's a relief." he huffs, pressing the toy against your clit harshly now, "i'm glad my girl's having fun." law exchanges the toy for his thumb instead, giving you a soft smile, "let me see how this feels for you."

a/n: hahahaha I SWEAR IM SANE!!! I SWEAR!!! yes, my digital footprint goes crazy, thanks for asking. don't ask again. also. the feminine urge to write the all of these drabbles longer and without step-cest... hm, anyone on board?? anyways, glad to see you having fun you filthy, filthy person :// m.list

[jesuistrestriste]

♡ Cooking & Cleaning; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw! (18+) cw: service sub!art donaldson, dom!reader, afab/fem reader, use of ma'am as an honorific, brief food play, oral sex (reader receiving), begging, handjob, brief edging, praise, degradation, multiple orgasms (character receiving), dry orgasm

wc: 6.3 k (whoops)

note: this was pulled from the most depraved parts of my brain. i refuse to be held accountable for the absolute filth this contains ! :)

⋆ ��｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆.

The very second that your key is in the apartment door and you're finally home, you find your legs nearly collapsing underneath you as you step inside and kick off your black kitten heels.

"God," you groan, shutting the door behind you before you move to peel your chic new blazer off of your shoulders. You toss it onto the coatrack nearby and bring a handful of your fingers up to your forehead to rub at it tensely, sighing deeply.

It had been a long day at the USTA (United States Tennis Association) office, and all you wanted to do was come home and see your husband.

-

After Art had lost several important and consecutive tennis matches, as well as his confidence on the court (despite his actual tennis skills still being phenomenal -- he just psyched himself out too much), he had decided to give up his life as a professional athlete.

At first, this devastated you. Not only did you love your partner and believe in him throughout his career, as well as believing in his very real ability to eventually win the US Open, but this decision of his also meant that your position as his coach would become obsolete..

You actually became quite anxious about you and Art's future at the time.. you had needed a purpose, and so did he. You both were just those kinds of people; you and him both wanted to feel that you were contributing to something bigger than just yourselves, and that you were being useful to someone or something.

Luckily, his many previous years of successful tennis playing had scored you and him a shit ton of wealth. Like, genuinely a lot. You were beyond grateful, but you still wanted a life of your own. You didn't dare to think about the idea of becoming a stay-at-home wife while he went out and did whatever he wanted. Yuck. It just wasn't for you.

Your fears and inner turmoil about this change in your lives were quickly eased once Art had sat you down about two weeks after he had left his tennis career behind. He had taken your hands in his, smiled softly like he always did, and told you that he wanted to stay at home and take care of everything in it while you went out and continued your career in the field of professional athletics.

Of course, you immediately and excitedly agreed with the idea of this new plan, and then that was that!

You two developed new lives and new roles as people over a short period of time, but it didn't take away from the love you two shared. That always stayed consistent and at the center of everything.

Eventually, after a month or so of coming home from your new job to Art doing things like vacuuming the wooden floors of your guys' expensive New York apartment, or making elaborate protein-packed smoothies for the gym sessions that you two still did together, you came to realize that the whole "house husband" persona was actually kinda hot.

He had realized it too. Quicker than you had, actually. In fact, he can distinctly remember the overwhelming feeling of heat that had pooled deep in his gut the first time he had ever served you a home-cooked meal after you came home from a long day at your new job. He had gently rubbed your sore feet that night while you ate, and then suddenly couldn't find a way to deny how this new practice of.. servicing you.. made him feel.

I mean, God, he loved doing that stuff for you.. cooking.. tidying.. pampering.. washing.. he would do it all. You knew that he worshipped the ground that you walked on—reminding yourself constantly of the time he had admitted to you during sex that he believed he would be "nowhere without you"—and you devoured the increased sense of power that came with it every. single. time. It eventually became very easy and comfortable for you to let him take care of you. You grew hungry for it.

And then this persona of his, over time, dissolved into something much more intimate..

-

After tossing your blazer on the rack and rubbing at your temples, you drag your pantyhose-covered feet across the floor and into the kitchen.

Your nose is instantly filled with the aroma of fluffy, vanilla sweetness and a bit of nutmeg. you sigh happily as you turn the corner and see Art standing over a mess of what appears to be flour and sugar in a large bowl on the kitchen counter. He looks over his shoulder briefly with a smile as he mixes the dry ingredients together with a whisk.

“Hey, hon,” he grins, before turning back to look down at his current baking project.

you shuffle up behind him and hug him, your cheek pressing against his warm upper back as your arms reach to wrap gently around his abdomen. You sigh deeply.

“Hey, babe.. ‘m so tired. It was such a long day.”

He laughs softly, which shakes you a bit as you hold him.

“What’d your colleagues do now?”

You shake your head against him, groaning dramatically.

“I don’t want to talk about it.. what are you baking? It smells good in here.”

“Nothing crazy, it’s just some holiday cookies. I found the recipe online this morning after you left.”

“How many are you planning to make? There’s already some in the oven,” you ask, peeking around his frame from behind to see him set the bowl aside and wipe his hands on the apron he’s wearing. (It was white with small pink hearts by the pockets. You got it for him when he started cooking for you everyday, and he used to feel weird about it. He said it made him feel “slightly emasculated”, but he quickly grew to absolutely adore it. It was just another way for you to claim him as your personal chef. One night before you got home, he jerked off while wearing it, but he would never tell you that.)

“I don’t really know,” he shrugs and chuckles sheepishly, “there are twelve baking right now, but I thought that maybe I could make some for our neighbors.”

You chuckle softly, your hands disconnecting from their place on his stomach to reach down and give his ass a small squeeze. He jumps a little at the feeling, embarrassed laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“Where’d all this holiday cheer come from?” you smirk, pulling back from your position against his back to lean your hip against the counter. You just wanted to look at his pretty face. Your eyes quickly fixate on the fact that he’s got a bit of flour on his flushed cheek.. It’s only a small puff and smear of the white substance near his jaw, but for some reason it starts a flame in your lower stomach. There was just something about the way he got a little messy when he cooked or baked for you.

His cheeks plump up in shape ever-so-slightly as he grins at you.

“I don’t know.. I had time before you got home- I mean, well, before i thought you’d get home, and so i thought I’d just-”

You take a step forward, nodding at his words while your body is now only inches from his. You look up into his glassy blue eyes.

“You thought you’d just.. what?” you purr, your hand coming up to caress his lower back.

He swallows thickly, briefly looking down at the mess on the counter before he looks back to you. His body temperature is steadily rising as he feels your fingertips caress him over his loose t-shirt.

“I just thought I’d make some more,” he whispers.

You lean in, reaching your other hand up to gingerly hold the side of his neck while you press a kiss to it.

“You’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

He nods, slowly, his eyelids fluttering slightly at the feeling of your mouth on him.

“I..I mean, yeah, I guess.”

You lean in a bit more, sucking softly at his neck. His head lolls a bit forward, and you nip at him when the sound of his shaky breathing reaches your ears.

You pull back, a small smirk covering your face as you look up at him.

His focus darts from your eyes to your lips as he reaches both of his hands out for your waist, but he’s rudely interrupted when the timer for the oven goes off— cookies are done.

You both nearly jump out of your skin at the sound; the incessant beeping pulling you both out of the thick fog of tension between your bodies and minds.

“Shit,” he mumbles, flushing pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns off the timer at the top of the oven and moves to hastily grab an oven mitt from the lower drawer.

He pulls open the oven door, and you step back to watch him pull the tray out and set it on top of the stove area.

He sighs, pulling off the mitt and setting it aside as he leans over the cookies. His eyes are inspecting each one, and he has a very focused expression plastered on his face. He was as much of a perfectionist in the kitchen as he used to be on the court, that was for sure.

Your body moves in to stand beside him, also peering down at the tray of gorgeous golden-brown cookies. You place a hand on his upper back, rubbing it encouragingly.

“These look incredible,” you say, smiling at him.

He nods, still inspecting them, “They look better than I thought they would.. I actually messed up earlier and accidentally added three-fourths of a cup of sugar instead of two-thirds..”

“They look perfect, don’t stress.”

He looks to you, his gaze meeting yours and then suddenly everything was back to how it was before the timer went off. His hands reach for your waist, squeezing at your hips as he looks lovingly down at you.

“Be proud of yourself, Art.. you did a good job,” you laugh softly, your hands reaching up to cup his face. He pulls you closer.

“I am.”

“Are you?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

You suddenly get a very filthy idea.

“Can.. can you tell me what the recipe called for?”

His brows furrow slightly as he seems taken aback by your request, his cock already starting to stir to life in his sweatpants just from holding your body. He didn’t want to talk about the damn cookies anymore.

“What?”

You roll your eyes, one of your hands dropping from his face to reach around the fabric of the front of his apron and grope him over his sweats. Your other hand moves down too, but just to gently hold the side of his torso. His whole body jolts forward and his lips part instantly.

“You’ll like where this is headed, trust me. Just talk to me.. tell me what you did to make the cookies look so perfect..”

He breathes unsteadily, his fingers digging into your waist as he feels your hand start to work his cock up to a full-blown, hot, twitchy erection.

“I.. uhm.. I just..” he breathes out, his eyes growing lidded as he absentmindedly bucks up against your touch, still trying to maintain eye contact as pleasure starts to flood his senses, “one cup of b-butter.. ngh-!.. two cups.. two cups of flour… and then- ugh!- two.. two-thir-r-ds.. of..”

His voice trails off, shaky and low and broken as he hangs his head a bit, leaking incessantly into his boxers. It was that easy for you to work him up.

You frown, “Uh oh.. come on, baby, don’t go nonverbal on me that quick.. we’ve just barely gotten started…”

A small whimper leaves his chest as he tries to finish his words, “Two-thirds, I m-mean- three-f-fourths of a c-cup of.. s-su.. sugar… one teasp’of vanilla.. and.. o-one.. teaspoon of nutm-eg.”

You smile, stroking his cock over the fabric of his pants, “Good boy.. God, you’re so pretty when you’re slurring for me..”

He moans obscenely, melting at the praise while he feels his length grow suddenly intensely hot. A certain kind of numbness starts to creep over his crotch before his hands are flying from your hips to your wrist.

“Wait! W-Wait!” he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he blows a concentrated shaky breath from his lips, his fingertips digging into your arm.

Your eyebrow lifts and you smile as you take in the way his body shakes and shudders as he holds it in for you. He knows how to behave.. what would make you happy.. what would make you disappointed.. After all, he’s been trained by you in more than just tennis.

“Close?” you whisper.

His body starts to slowly relax again as he regains some of his composure. He blinks his eyes back open slowly, looking into yours.

“Very,” he groans.

You pull your hands from his body, and he whines softly.

“Take off the apron. Put it on the floor.”

You’re sure you’ve never seen him move so fast— his hands reaching behind his back and undoing the tied string. Then, he pulls the apron off over his head, tossing it off to the side. He watches you study him with parted lips, and he bites onto his own.

“Now take your sweats off for me.”

He does as he’s told; his shaky fingers reaching down to slip his pants down to his lower thighs, and then down to his knees and ankles, and then he steps out of them. He kicks them gently next to where the apron was thrown, now making a mess of grey and white fabric where both items pooled on the kitchen floor.

You step close to his body, cupping his face before running a hand through his messy strawberry-blonde locks. But it doesn’t take long for your eyes to travel solely down to the bulge prominently pressing against the inside of his navy boxer briefs. You run a fingertip up and over the outline of his dick, relishing in the way it makes him shake. He was now just in his tee shirt, boxers, and white socks, while you stayed fully clothed. But not for too much longer.

"My pretty husband.." you coo to him, making his lips part to let out a few uneven breaths. You glance around his frame and notice a bowl off to the side that had remnants of the soft cookie dough from the first batch of the cookies. You smirk.

You lean forward and swipe your thumb along the inside of the bowl, gathering some of the sugary, buttery mixture on your digit. His gaze remains lidded and locked onto your face, not finding any importance in your hand's movements at the kitchen counter. You bring your thumb back in, showing him what you did.

He spares your thumb a quick glance, but then his eyes are back on yours, and then your lips, and then the way that your breasts are peeking out from the low-cut collar of your work top. You bring your thumb up to his mouth.

"Open," you whisper.

He does as he's told, parting his lips further and leaning in to encourage your finger to slip past them.

You push your cookie dough-covered thumb into his mouth, feeling him immediately begin to suckle on it; his tongue swirled over it, and his eyes fluttered shut right after they began to roll back. His brows furrow, and a couple of faint whines bubble up out of him as the taste of his homemade sweetness melts seamlessly on his palate.

While your thumb is in his mouth, you push it down softly on his tongue.

"Knees, baby," you say breathlessly.

Art knew this command like the back of his hand.

Effortlessly and steadily, he dropped down to his knees one after the other, keeping your digit in his mouth the entire time. He didn't dare let it go. He moved to sit on his calves.

"Good job.. good boy..."

He whimpered, the vibrations of his pathetic sounds causing your hand to buzz slightly.

"I want your mouth on my cunt.. can you do that for me, darling?" you purr, running your hand through his hair for a moment. He nods around you.

"Y'sh, m'm.." he mumbled, trying his best to speak while still relishing your touch with enough attention.

You pull your thumb from the heat of his wet mouth, and smirk as you watch his lips chase after it.

"What was that?"

You already had a good idea about what he had murmured, but it was just.. best to be sure.

"Yes, ma'am," he gasps out softly, his eyes glazed over.

He reaches up and pulls at your skirt, shimmying it down and over your ass and thighs, letting it fall to your ankles. You kick it aside, and lean your back against the countertop. Art positions himself on his knees so that he's on the floor in front of you, looking up at you. His hands shakily reach up to the sides of your pantyhose, his tongue licking out over his bottom lip. He digs his fingers into the taut fabric and looks up at you once more, beginning to pull them down.

Immediately you grab his wrists, halting his movements. His eyes look up into yours, worried that he had made a wrong move, but you shake your head with a soft smile.

"You can rip them."

He doesn't even mean to, but he moans when you give him permission to be a little desperate right now.

In an instant, his strong hands are pulling needily at your tights, causing them to rip from your crotch to your lower thighs. He hooks one of his index fingers into the inside of your panties, his thighs tensing up at the feeling of your wetness, and then he's pushing them to the side. His tongue rests out over his bottom lip as he leans in, holding the back of your leg with his free hand as his eyes flutter shut and he engulfs your heat with his mouth.

"Oh, fuck-!" you yelp, reaching down to tangle your hands in his soft curls, "fuck, fuck, that feels good, Art, don't stop.."

He moans, his eyes squeezed shut as he lathes his tongue up and down and over your wet hole. He lewdly sucks and swallows your slick that's quickly spilling over his tongue, trying to focus harder on your pleasure (and less on the feeling of his cock throbbing rapidly in his boxers.. he can feel himself leaking).

You remove your hands from his hair and move to unsteadily grip the countertop, your back pressing hard against it. Art hums around you in his mouth, moving his tongue up to lick sloppily at your clit. He opens his eyes, his brows furrowed, and looks up at you.

"God, you're so good at this.. you're doing so well.. i'm getting.. close.." you breathe out, studying the upper half of his face while the lower half remains buried in your pussy.

He doubles his efforts, smushing his face deeper against you, his lips pursing to suckle against your sensitive nub as his grip on your leg tightens. Art has half a mind at that moment to just scoot forward a bit and slot your ankle between his thighs, but he won't. You came first, in his mind. Literally, and figuratively.

You sling the leg that he's holding over his shoulder, giving him more access, and then you begin to feel an overwhelming, hot numbness creep over your lower half..

"ANGH!" you moan loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as your body begins to shake. Your fingers grip the kitchen counter so hard that you're afraid you'll break a nail.

"I'm going to cum, Art..!"

"Mm! Mm-mm!"

"I'm.. oh my god.... I'm... I'm-! Cumming-!" you whine, feeling your orgasm crash over you.

"MM-!" he laps at your pulsing cunt, squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them open so that he can watch the way your beautiful face moves to contort in ecstasy.

You groan and whine as your orgasm's aftershocks are uncomfortably prolonged by Art's relentless tongue, and your hands release the marble countertop to reach down and grab two soft fistfuls of his hair. You try to tug his head back from your cunt, but he just closes his eyes and presses his nose and mouth further against your core. The repetitive movements of his tongue over your folds cause lewd, wet noises to fill the kitchen.

"Art... A-Art..! Enough!" you slur out as the pleasure from before starts to melt into a prickly sting of oversensitivity.

His eyes flutter open and you shoot him a warning glance as he peers up at you.

"I said enough, yeah?" you snap, "stand up."

He immediately pulls his mouth away from your sticky body and stands up on shaky legs. His eyes look downward, guiltily avoiding your gaze, as he wipes at the clear slick covering his chin with the back of his hand.

You try to catch your breath for a moment, studying his chest as it heaves up and down -- him trying to catch his breath all the same. You reach out and take his lower jaw softly in one hand, forcing him to look at you properly.

"You got a little fucking greedy there for a minute.. didn't you?"

He bites his bottom lip for a second, nervously chewing on the inside of it as he debates what answer he could give that would result in the least amount of punishment from you.

"Did you hear what I said?" you whisper coldly, taking a step closer to him as your hand grazes against the erection standing proudly in his underwear.

His body automatically jolts forward, and he lets out a shaky breath as his brow twitches. "Yeah.. I did.." he huffs out.

You smirk, wrapping your hand around him over the dark blue fabric, "And what do you think, hm? Were you being greedy?"

He looks deep into your eyes, his lips parting as he feels you start to stroke him. He tries to stop it, but his hips start to shallowly buck against your grasp, and now he can't get any words out. He wants to, but he just.. he really can't.

You roll your eyes.

"You know what I want you to say, honey. Use that big brain of yours."

He moans softly, his hands coming up to hold the sides of your upper arms as his eyes grow lidded.

"I'm.. I was being greedy.. I'm greedy," he moans lowly, thrusting into your hand a bit quicker and with a tad bit more abandon.

"Yeah, yeah you are. You're a greedy little whore for this, aren't you?"

He nods slowly but repeatedly as his brows pinch together and his breathing picks up.

"Yesss," he says brokenly, his voice straining a little as his moans start to become whimpers and whines, "I'm.. s' greedy for you.. jus' for you.. mm..!"

You nod and smirk up at him as his face becomes pinker and pinker, "That's it, pretty boy.. good job. You like when I stroke your pretty cock?"

He lets out an obscenely loud moan as his abdomen curls in over itself a bit, his hands gripping the sleeves of your work top and pulling helplessly at the fabric as he feels a spurt of precome burst into the inside of his boxers.

You chuckle a little as you watch him visibly get closer to his climax, but then he suddenly releases the hold on one of your sleeves and urgently grabs the hand that's moving over his clothed length.

You look down to where his hand holds yours, and he lets out a filthy whimper as he pulls your touch off of him and then urgently pushes your hand past his waistband and down into the front of his boxers. You gasp at his seemingly impulsive actions, feeling your fingers finally come into contact with his slicked-up cockhead. Your fingertips just barely brush over his hot, leaking slit.. sliding over a thick glob of pre.. and then he's being sent over the edge. To the average person, the touch would be essentially imperceptible, but not to him.. not to Art. He was just far too sensitive.

Your husband lets out a startled cry as he doubles over your frame in front of him and frantically moans, his whole body trembling and tensing as his balls draw up, "I'm cumming!"

You don't even have time to really process what's happening until you feel your hand being covered in warm fluid, the substance dripping down your fingertips as Art basically comes untouched. You look up at him, dumbfounded, before you feel your abdomen grow warm and tingly. That was kinda.. hot?

"Jesus, baby," you whisper breathlessly as his hips jolt a few more times before stilling as he gulps air down into his lungs, "didn't realize you were that worked up.. that was a little quick, no?"

He moans softly, still feeling your fingers graze him inside of his boxers.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.." he says, his breathing hitching in his throat as he tries to get the words out in spite of the pleasure still thrumming through his veins. He was still rock hard.

You smile, quickly using your clean, opposite hand to pull his boxers down to his lower thighs. His length slaps up lightly against his stomach before bobbing out in front of him, a tiny pearl-like bead of cum still leaking from his tip. He sighs shakily as he looks down at himself, and then up at you. You wrap your cum-covered hand around the base of his shaft, causing Art to jerk forward from sensitivity. He pulls a sharp breath in, his face scrunching up a little as he tries to control his body.

"I'll let you cum again," you start, watching his eyes light up, "but! you need to give me a warning this next time, okay? I want a clear warning, love."

He nods at your words, a more serious expression plastering over his face, "I will, I promise.. I.. I can give you a proper warning, ma'am.." he whispers.

And with that, you slide your hand from his base to his tip in one smooth motion, your thumb gliding over the head.

"GAH-!" he shudders forward, hissing in pain for a moment before he starts to moan again.

"You okay? Can you handle this?" you ask, your tone soft but seductive as you try to tease him but also legitimately check in. You two were always good at looking out for the other's wellbeing during your sessions together; the exchange of love and tender-care came easily to you both-- it was never something either of you had to question.

He nods, "Yeah, yes-ss, I can t-take it.." he slurs a little, watching your hand move up and down over his throbbing length.

"Look up into my eyes, darling," you purr, your hand starting to pick up speed, "does it feel good?"

He meets your eyes, his blue ones swimming with lust and desperation as he felt the beginnings of his second orgasm start to creep in, "Yes, fuck-! Yes! It feels so fucking good--!" he whines.

"Remember what we just talked about?"

He nods fervently, sucking his plump bottom lip in between his teeth as his focus darts from one of your eyes to the other. You speed up your hand, squeezing his shaft a little more to give him some pressure that you assume he needs.

He keens instantly, a loud moan rumbling from his chest as his thighs start to shake and his eyes squeeze shut.

"Art," you murmur in a seductive but warning tone.

He shakes all over, nodding his head, before his back stiffens up and he becomes incredibly tense. You keep your hand moving at the same fast pace, hoping his memory today is as good as his stamina.

"I'm going to cum," he whispers quickly, bringing his hands up to hold onto your shoulders as he pulls you closer.

You smile in approval, leaning in close to his ear and breathing warmly against his skin as you speak softly, "thank you for telling me, angel. do you want to cum for me?"

He nods, whining out a hasty "mhm". He lets out a breathy moan as he feels your hot words against his upper neck.

You press a chaste kiss there, and then you slide your hand up to gently grip his shaft while your thumb moves to rapidly swipe over his frenulum.

"Come."

And he does just that.

Art's back arches as soon as your one commanding word reaches his ears, cumming uncontrollably with an abrupt cry of pleasure. At first, his body is incredibly rigid as he lets go, his brows pinched up together as he feels the first, pulsing waves of his orgasm hit him, but then the full sensation of his release hits him and his whole body shudders deeply. He lets out little breathy moans and gasps as he relishes in the bursts of pleasure rolling over his cock. You slow your thumb down a bit as you watch him spurt rope after rope over your hand and onto the kitchen floor as he comes undone for you a second time.

"Fucking hell," you moan, now going back to stroking him fully instead of just rubbing a digit against his tip.

He grits his teeth in an instant, being pulled from his afterglow by the feeling of your hand forcing him back into a feeling of overstimulation. "Ah-! Ah!.. T-Too much, too much," he whimpers, his hands instinctively reaching down from your shoulders to push at your hand that's currently working him towards a third, uncomfortable orgasm that he's not even sure he wants anymore.

You use the hand that's not stroking him to move his hands away from your occupied one, giving him a small shake of your head.

"Hands behind your back, please. We're not done yet, okay?" you coo.

He quickly follows orders, moving both of his hands behind his back and away from his aching length, although not without letting out a sniffly whine of protest first.

"Please, ma'am.. I'm.. I can't do it I can't do it-- I'm-- AH!"

You cut off his soft moans of agony with a brief squeeze to the base of his dick, looking intently up into his eyes through your lashes.

"If you really want to stop, baby," you tilt your head teasingly, "you can always use the safeword, yeah?"

He bites his lip before he lets out a warped cry, his head lolling backwards in the same instant. You stop moving your hand.

"Art, darling," you whisper to him comfortingly.

He brings his head back upright to look down into your eyes, his face blank with pleasure; he almost looked drunk. His eyes were glazed over, his cheeks were pink, his hair was a mess, and his lips were parted to let out harsh little breaths of air as he tried to regain some semblance of being grounded in his own, ruined body.

You reach your free hand up to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over the side of his face.

"Does it really hurt that bad? You know that you can be honest," you whisper, now a little concerned that maybe you pushed him too far.

He thinks for a moment before shaking his head slowly and swallowing a bit of drool that he realized has been collecting in his mouth for the past minute or so, "N-Just a little.." he breathes out.

You nod, giving him one soft stroke of his come-covered cock. He gasps and his torso jolts at the sensation, faint tears springing to his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," you hum, "should we stop here then? I think maybe that would be best for you.. you've already done so well for me.."

The latter half of your sentence, that subtle bit of praise, gives him all the motivation he needs to want to unravel again.

He looks down at his still-hard cock, and then back up at you, and shakes his head. His tongue pokes out over his bottom lip and wets it as he tries to collect his thoughts.

"No.. no, I can do- I can go again, ma'am.. I pro-promise.." he slurs out, thrusting up into your hand.

You raise a skeptical brow at him and his movements, keeping your hand still.

"Are you sure? You know that I won't be upset with you if you want to stop, Art."

He shakes his head again, his lip trembling, "Please."

You smile softly and start to move your hand up and down over his cock again. Despite his previous indications that it was painful, the feeling has now seemed to morph back into unfiltered pleasure as he lets out a high-pitched moan of your name. He babbles endlessly, a mixture of pleas for more, letting out repetitive mumblings of "feels good", and "yes", and an assortment of stuttered expletives.

It doesn't take long for Art to get close again.

"I think 'm gonna come again," he mumbles, letting his eyes fall shut as his head slumps forward against your shoulder. You stroke him quicker, focusing on his hypersensitive tip as you feel a drip of precome come out.

"Oh? You want to come again?" you tease coyly.

You could be cruel sometimes. He had known that this part was coming eventually.

He shakes his head against the crook of your neck with a whine, "don't do this, please.."

You stop your hand at the base of his cock, halting his orgasm just as his load started to rise up his length. Art bites back an obscenely loud moan of protest that is dying to be let out..

"No, no no noo," he squirms against you, repetitively shaking his head as his face remains buried in your neck.

"You know what you need to do, darling."

"Please," he moans, "let me come.."

"You want to come?"

"Yes."

"You do?"

"YES..!"

"How should I make you come?"

"Can y- keep stroking my- I want my cock to be- I-" he mumbles incoherently.

You place your free hand on the back of his head, pushing your fingers pleasurably into his hair as he trembles against you.

"You want me to keep jerking you off? Hm?"

"Y-Yes-ss!" he moans out brokenly, using every bit of restraint within himself to resist the urge to move his hands from behind his back and relieve his aching parts.

He would never do that, though.. no matter how much he wanted to. He would always follow your wants and needs first. Those were most important to him.

"Ask me for what you need again. Nicely; just the way I like it."

"Please, can I come?"

"Again."

He whines, his hips involuntarily bucking up against your stilled hand wrapped around him.

"Please," he sobs, "can I please come for you?"

"Yes, honey, you can come."

You start to stroke his cock once again, and within just a few pumps Art is releasing again. Even though you can't see them because his face is still in your shoulder, his eyes roll all the way to the back of his head as he lets out a couple pitiful squirts of white, sticky liquid over your hand. "Ooh, that's it.. good boy.. are you my pretty little slut?"

When Art hears this, he isn't exactly sure what happens, but it's like the orgasm that's already halfway finished just completely starts over.

"Ohh my fucking- oh my god-dd-! Ugh! HNGH-!"

It's like every single nerve ending in his body is lighting up at once, and he can't do a damn thing about it.. he can't stop it...

His legs nearly go limp underneath him, and he has to lean further into you to prevent himself from collapsing.

Art then releases the most pornographic moans you've ever heard and tenses up in your hold all over again. You're not really sure what's happening until he--

"I'm cumming again! I'm cumm-m-ing-! Again! Ohmyfucking--! GOD!"

He whines and sobs against your body, his arms still held behind his back as you feel his cock jump and pulse in your hand again. This time, nothing comes out. It's odd because it's clear that he's cumming for a fourth time, but there's nothing to show for it.

You slow your hand but continue to stroke his length which is now covered in the creamy-white filth of his previous loads. His cock softens a little, but you're unsure when his orgasm ends because, again, nothing is coming out.

Art's frame suddenly begins to jerk around every time your hand brushes over his tip, and he lets out a hiss of discomfort through his gritted teeth and a sniffle afterwards. As soon as you hear that, you know he's done and you quickly remove your hand. Any extra stimulation and he'd genuinely start to cry. You could save that for another time.. if he wanted you to.

You move your other hand from his hair to his clothed upper back and rub small, comforting circles over it.

"I've got you," you whisper, "you did such a good job, baby. You just came dry for me."

He nods, sniffling wetly and exhaustedly.

You continue to rub his back for a minute or so in silence as he comes back down to earth; the pleasurable waves of his release's aftershocks allowing him to bask in the ebb and flow of it all as he tries to calm his ragged breathing.

"I feel weak," he groans softly.

You nod, "I'm right here, you're okay.. take some deep breaths for me, honey."

He nuzzles deeper against your neck and sighs contentedly, the fuzziness in his head starting to dissipate with your caring words and gentle touch.

"You're my good boy," you whisper, pressing your cheek against the side of his head.

"Mhmm," he hums, "always for you."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆.

notes; WOAH. ok. so this has been like months in the making by now i think..? but i finally finished it :D thank u so much to everyone who has been patiently/loyally waiting for this one after i teased it for over a month on this blog 😭 + thank u to anyone who gave me some kind words of encouragement when i had to put this aside for a while. i luv u guys !! <3

reblogs are always allowed + appreciated!

[scarlethexelove]

I’d love to see a Wanda x Reader fic where Wanda is practicing a new duplication spell, and she asks reader to help spot any differences between her and her new “clone”. The game turns flirty and then cue a Wanda/Reader/Wanda threeway :)

Seeing Double

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 3569

Warnings: Smut, Spell gone wrong (Or oh so right), Strap-on (R receiving), Oral on Strap-on (Wanda receiving), light bondage (Only a split second), Enchanted Straps, Cum filled Straps, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Two Wanda's, Anal, Double Penetration, Plugs, Anal fingering, Mommy Kink, Mistress Kink, Slight selfcest (Just making out), Squirting, A bit of Cock warming

A/n: I was so excited to write this. Hopefully it doesn't get too confusing with the double Wanda's. I tried my best to tell who was who when doing anything. Thank you for the request and I really hope you like it.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

“Wands?” You call out as you open the door to the study. Wanda likes to use it to practice her magic. You would normally never disturb her while doing so, but she has been in there awhile and you just wanted to make sure she was ok and to bring her something to eat and drink. She warns you that it is dangerous and she would never want to hurt you. So you normally stay away like she said but your nerves got the best of you so you made your way inside. 

The tray clatters to the ground. The cup of tea shattering on impact. Your stunned, mouth hanging agape. There in front of you is your girlfriend and also your girlfriend. You rub your eyes thinking something is wrong with you but when you blink there are still two Wanda’s standing in front of you. “I- What? Why are there two of you?” You stammer out. 

Both Wanda’s stare at you in a bit of shock. They never expect you to come in here and to see this. It’s like watching a mirror as both of them gain their composure at the same exact time. Their expressions are the same as they soften, seeing you and the fact that you had dropped what seems to be food and water for them, albeit there is only supposed to be one of them. 

“Detka a spell didn’t go quite as planned.” One of them speaks. “I didn’t mean to copy myself; it was an unexpected result of a spell.” The other one finishes. Which causes a different confusion now. “Which one of you is the real Wanda?” You question looking between them. They share a look that you don’t quite understand until the first one speaks. “Well we both are real Milaya. But since you're here now why don’t you try and figure out which one of us cast the spell.” The second one purrs in your ear with the last part. Both of them circling you like prey. You gulp both women making you squirm with their intense gaze. It doesn’t take much for your girlfriend to make you squirm like this but now that there are two of them it’s even easier. You nod your head at their words when you grow confident enough to look up into their eyes. 

The first thing you try doing is asking questions to both of them, but both of them answer all the questions correctly. You're getting frustrated with asking questions to the women. You feel as if you're a bad girlfriend for not being able to tell but the one is pretty much a carbon copy of your girlfriend. So you moved to a different tactic but you’re not so sure if it was the worst idea or the best idea you have ever had in your life. Both women are standing in front of you naked. You wanted to see if there were any differences such as marks or scars but both of them were the same. But now your mind is wondering.

You let out a noise of frustration and upset, almost sounding like a whine as you stand behind one of them. You haven’t noticed the swirl of red in their eyes as they have followed you. You're taken by surprise when the Wanda in front of you whirls around and grabs your waist tightly. You let out a gasp looking up at her. “Mommy.” You whimper. There is a proud smirk on her face. “Good girl.” She purrs, you can feel a gush of arousal at the praise. “But that pretty little head of yours has been very loud and very naughty. We have been listening to you for a while now. Do you want to be our pretty little slut? For Mommy and her duplicate to use you.” Her eyes darken as your eyes grow with surprise and need. You let out a whimper as you nod. 

Another body presses against you from behind. You can feel her hardened nipples in your back as her lips meet your neck sucking harsh red and purple marks on your skin. “You're such a dirty girl. Wanting to be used by us.” The second one mumbles nipping at your skin. “Fuck Wanda you should have made two of us a long time ago if it was going to turn her on this much.” She lets out a hum continuing to attack your neck leaving marks behind. Another whine escaping your lips as your head drops back onto her shoulder giving her more access. 

But as quickly as they started they both pulled away from you. “Whyyyy?” You whine, your mind already feeling fuzzy and needy for both the women from their touches. “Patience detka. I want you to go and sit on the couch.” Your Wanda demands. You obediently and quickly head over to the couch sitting down. “How about to keep things simple you can call me Mistress.” The other Wanda states. You nod. “Yes Mistress.” They both smile at how obedient you’re being. “Such a good girl we have. So pretty and obedient.” The second Wanda says. With a wave of her hand you feel the cold air on your skin. Your nipples are pebbling at the cool air now surrounding your body. 

“Mommy? Mistress?” You want them so badly to touch you already. “Patience. Do you want a punishment?” Your Wanda speaks. “No Mommy.” You shake your head and look down. You don’t hear anything for a second so you look back up and that is when you see it. The other Wanda gripping your Wanda’s hips kissing her harshly. The two are making out holding onto one another which is turning you on even more. Wanting nothing more than to be touched by them but you don’t want a punishment so you swallow the whimper threatening to escape. Your body squirms as your thighs become coated in your arousal. You're rubbing your legs together in any hopes of relief. But that is ripped away from you quickly. Red tendrils wrap around your ankles forcing them apart. Biting your tongue not to make a noise. You catch both women's eyes glancing over at you as they continue their actions. 

You're fighting everything inside of you that tells you to plead and beg for them to touch you. Your squirm in your seat as your arousal begins to soak the cushion under you. A small whimper that you weren’t able to hold back escapes your lips. Both women pull away and their eyes land on you. You quickly look down not wanting to meet their gaze. “I-I’m sorry.” You stutter out. 

A finger hooks under your chin. You hadn’t even noticed that they had crossed the room joining you both standing looking down upon you. Gently she pulls you to look up at her. The green in her eyes is barely visible as the blacks of her eyes overtake them with desire. “Tell Mommy what you want detka.” Her voice low, sending another wave of arousal. You try so desperately to close your legs forgetting the binds keeping them apart. “Want Mommy and Mistress to touch me.” Your voice barely above a whisper as both women chuckle. “I am touching you Milaya” You let out a  whine before a rush of words. “Please Mommy want you to fuck me. Want you and Mistress to fuck me till I can’t walk. Use me however you please. Just please fuck me.” 

Your Wanda is leaning down, lips hovering just out of reach. “I love it when you beg.” Her lips crash into yours, as your hands move to her waist gripping onto her. She asserts her dominance quickly as you open your mouth to let her in. Her tongue is searching for yours. You can feel Wanda’s need in the hungry way that she is kissing you. Still gripping your chin, keeping you exactly how she wants you. 

You're so caught up in the kiss you don’t even notice the magic swirling around until you feel a weight on your thigh and one that has slapped against your arm. You pull back quickly panting as you look down slightly. There around your Wanda’s hips is a red large strap with ample girth. A gasp leaving your lips at the sheer size of it. You quickly look beside you and see the other Wanda sitting there. You hadn’t noticed her even sitting at all. She is adorning an identical strap to your Wanda. 

In your shocked state the other Wanda’s hand snakes between your thighs swiping through your wet folds. “Fuck you’re so wet Kotenok.” She groans. “M-Mistress.” You whimper. Your Wanda sits down next to you and turns your face back to her and attacks your lips. The other Wanda plunges two of her fingers into your heat. Your moaning in your Wanda’s mouth as the other fucks her fingers into you. Your Wanda’s hands moving to your breast pinching and twisting your hardened peaks. Swallowing all the noises that escape your pretty little mouth. 

It doesn’t take long to have you on edge. Your walls clenching desperately around the other Wanda’s fingers, your hands gripping anywhere on your Wanda that you can, digging your nails in harshly to her skin. It all stops on a dime. Both women pull away from you causing you to let out another whine in frustration. Your wall quivering asking for their release. 

“Hands and knees Kotenok.” The other Wanda says. They both move to give you room as you scramble to get on your hands and knees. Your Wanda is positioned in front of you sitting up on her knees, the strap mer inches from your lips. The other Wanda is behind you and you can already feel her shuffling closer to you. She swipes the tip through your folds causing you both to moan. As your mouth opens to moan you Wanda shoving her cock into your throat causing her to let out a moan. You know now that both straps are enchanted and can feel everything. You can’t help but let out a moan at that which causes your Wanda to moan again. Feeling the vibrations from your throat on her cock.

“Mommy is going to use your throat while Mistress takes you from behind. You like that little whore?” You do your best to nod with her strap bobbing in and out of your mouth. “Fuck! This pussy is always so good.” The second Wanda says sinking further into you the stretch is slightly painful but oh so delicious. “Maybe Mistress will use this other pretty little hole back here.” Her hands spread your cheeks admiring as you clench. You try to speak but all that can be heard is gurgles as Wanda slowly fucks your mouth. The women don’t need to hear what you say and they don’t even need to read your mind, all they have to do is read your body's reactions. “By the way you're clenching I’m betting you want me to use this tight hole.” A finger presses against your ass and all you can do is whimper and press back.

“If I had known all it would take for me to be able to take that little ass of yours was to have two of me I would have done this a long time ago. I’ve been dying to sink my strap deep in your ass detka.” You look up at your Wanda tears in your eyes as she smiles down at you. But you’re caught off guard when she thrusts hard into your throat causing you to gag and for the tears to start spilling down your cheeks. Her hand cups your face as she wipes the tears. “So pretty when you cry for me. Such a good girl taking my strap down your throat.” She punctuates each word with a thrust of her hips. This sends your body back onto the other Wanda’s cock. Her lubed finger slipped into your ass, you don’t even remember her getting any lube but then you realize that she has magic just the same. Already feeling so full with just one finger you don’t know how you will take any more. 

The women start on a brutal pace of fucking your throat and pussy. As the other Wanda fucks into your pussy it pushes your further onto your Wanda’s strap causing you to gag. As she thrusts forward it sends you back further on the other strap while the other Wanda is still slowly fingering your ass. All that can be hard in the room is the sounds of moans, your gaging, and the wet sounds of your pussy. 

The finger in your ass is removed before feeling a cold metal pressing against your tight ring. The coldness makes your jumps slightly but neither of them seem to care as the other Wanda starts to press a metal plug into your ass. You let out a whine as it presses in stretching further than you have ever gone. The women taking pity on you and slowing down to take their time. The other Wanda uses her other hand to gently caress your hips. “Shhh it will feel so good when it’s all in.” She tells you as she slowly works it in. Your Wanda pulls back to give you a chance to breathe as it sinks in. You let out a groan when you feel it pop into place the slight fullness, a new and exciting feeling. 

“You like that detka?” Your Wanda asks you. You look up at her and see a gentle smile on her face still having concern for your pleasure. “Y-Yes Mommy.” You give her a small smile back. Once they both know that you are ok they quickly flip the switch back. Your Wanda shoving you so far down on her cock making you gag as your nose pressed against her stomach. The other Wanda pressing on the plug as she jackhammers her hips into you. Your Wanda holds you there as you keep getting presses further into her. Their moans bouncing off the walls of the room. Tears are steadily streaming down your face as they fuck into you roughly. 

Right now they are chasing their own pleasure you can feel their hips stuttering as they both fuck into you. The other Wanda has a harsh grip on your hips as she thrust hard and deep each time. Your Wanda has pulled you back slightly so she can fuck your throat enjoying as she watches the tears roll down your cheeks. Their moans turn you on, causing your thoughts to only be of giving them pleasure. Your walls are clenching tightly around the other Wanda signaling that you are all close to your impending orgasms. If it was even possible they seemed to have picked up their pace. The other Wanda hits your spongy wall perfectly with each thrust. You want to tell them you are close but they already know. 

“Fuck. Cum with us Kotenok.” The other Wanda moans. “Got a nice surprise for you detka.” You Wanda adds. Her hips jerked as you felt a warm sticky liquid sliding down your throat. You moan around her doing your best to swallow. The other Wanda’s load fills your pussy as your walls clamp hard around her as you cum with her. Your cum coating her cock as she continues to thrust, riding you both through your highs. Your Wanda is still lightly thrusting, filling your throat with her white sticky substance. As all of you come down your Wanda pulls out of your mouth and gently kisses your lips. The other Wanda staying buried inside of you. “So good.” You mumble causing both women to smile. “You didn’t think we were done with you yet, did you detka?” Your Wanda says as the other pulls back and thrust hard into you again. 

You have lost count of how many orgasms you have had now. They weren’t kidding about making sure you can’t walk. They have had you in all different positions as they fuck and fill you. Your body is weak and exhausted as you're now hovering over the other Wanda's cock. She is tugging on the plug as she removes it from your ass causing you to whimper. “One more detka. Hmm be a good girl for Mommy and Mistress.” Your Wanda smiles in front of you. Your brain is too fuzzy to fight it so you nod. “Okay Mommy.”

The other Wanda is laying back on the couch as they both help guide you onto her strap. She presses it against your ass as you start to sink down. Your eyes widened, your brain hadn’t put together that this is what they were going to do. “Mommy.” You whimper. “Shhh detka you can take. Be a good girl like we said.” She kisses you to distract you. Your body is being guided down on the strap as it slowly fills your ass up. Wanda swallows your sounds the further you sink down. She pulls away when you're fully seated on the other Wanda’s lap. “Fuck so fucking tight.” The other Wanda moans grinding into your ass which causes you to moan. 

Your Wanda moves and positions herself in front of you. The other Wanda leaning you back presenting your leaky abused cunt to your Wanda. She groans as the cum leaks from you but as much as she wants to taste you it will have to wait for another time. She positions her cock at your entrance slamming her cock into you in one swift motion. “Ahhhh fuck Mommy.” You cry out. The other Wanda is kissing and whispering praises in your ear as you adjust to fullness. They both wait for you to adjust before they start. Your Wanda circling your clit lightly to help your body relax more. 

Once they have given you time and they notice your hips grinding they start to slowly thrust into you. Your Wanda keeps her fingers on your clit as their paces pick up. They are now both pounding into you hard. With each thrust of their hips and filling you perfectly to the brim has you gasping for air. You're so full and the pleasure is becoming overwhelming as they stretch you to your max. They have both turned to praising you as they continue to fuck and fill you. Giving you gentle kisses all over your body helps to keep you grounded. “S-so full.” You’re able to mumble out. The women picked up their paces if that was even possible. 

You're all so sensitive already that it doesn’t take long for your orgasms to build. You're already teetering on the edge as your Wanda starts to pinch your engorged bundle of nerves. All of your moans are bouncing off the walls. Your whole body is shaking with pleasure as more tears run down your face. All that can come out of your mouth is incoherent words along with moans. “Fuck I’m going to cum.” The other Wanda says under you. You nod along as they continue to use your body. “Cum then.” Your Wanda moans above both of you. 

White hot sticky liquid fills both your holes as both Wanda’s cum hard. Your walls are able to clench around both of them as you cum harder than you ever have before. Squirting all over your Wanda’s lower abdomen while some gushes down onto the other Wanda below you. You see stars as your eyes roll back into your head. Your body goes rigid before relaxing completely between the women. They slowly fuck you through all of your orgasms before coming to a hault. 

You're so thankful that Wanda had bought the larger couch as they both rotate you on your side staying inside of you. You nuzzle into your Wanda’s neck exhaustion taking over your body. They want to give your body a chance to recover a little before pulling out completely so they both stay inside you not wanting to hurt you. They both are whispering praises into your ear gently kissing you and making sure you know that they love you and you did so good in such a vulnerable state that you are in. 

“You did so good for us, Milaya.” Your Wanda kisses your head. “Such a good girl” The other Wanda says, kissing your shoulder. Your eyes close as your body starts to get heavy between them. You want to ask questions like how long does the spell last and could it ever happen again? But your too exhausted and your throat is pretty raw from the throat fucking and all the moaning so you opt to ask later. Right now you will enjoy the comfort from the two women. They know they need to clean you up but they can see you need time to recover a bit before they can move you. So they give you some time to rest. Taking some time to admire all the marks that they left behind on your skin.

This isn’t what you expected today to come to when you stepped into that room but you are so glad that you did. Both Wanda’s thinking the same thing as they hold you closer to them. This was the best spell gone wrong that has ever happened and both of them communicating that it will happen again. 

[cheeseceli]

Petnames with stray Kids

Pairing: skz!ot8 × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, headcanons

Synopsis: which pet name would the stray kids boys use when referring to you

Warnings: mentions of food in Seungmin and Lee Know's, I think that's it

A/n: I had this idea for a while but only wrote it now. Hope you all like it <3 | 1k event

Chan

I've said it before and I'll say it again, he would call you by a pet name in your language. However, if he had to choose an English one, it would probably be "baby". It's something that he finds endearing and at the same time it shows his protective side.

"I miss you [ ]. Just a few more months and I will be back home."

Lee Know

I believe he would call you something in his language. It's the idiom he learnt first, the one he carries more meaning. He might not be the best with words but he wants you to be sure that he loves you, so he always tries to call you something that comes deep for him

"Have you eaten already yeobo? I just cooked some lunch, I can bring it to you."

Changbin

"Babe." I am a firm believer that he has thousands of pet names for you, going from the sweetest to the cringiest ones in a matter of seconds, but babe would probably be his favourite. It's neutral to anyone who listens to it, however it seems special every time it's between the two of you. It's perfect.

"Babe, are you free tonight? I thought we could go on a date."

Hyunjin

He has a big vocabulary of petnames, but they all start with "my". My love, my angel, my dearest and the list goes on. He doesn't even want to be possessive about it, it's just that this was the way he found to express how important you are to him.

"My love, are you coming to practice today? I really wanted you to see our rehearsal, I think you will like it."

Han

"Darling". I know it's kinda a consensus that he would call you "baby" but bro calls everyone that 😭 I believe he would like you to be different. Darling is something that still sounds like him but also has a greater meaning (you).

"I'm almost finishing this track. Would you like to listen to it darling?"

Felix

Calls you "angel". He thinks it's only fair that he portrays you well, and no other word could do you justice. Besides that, I think he would also call you a nickname, a variant from your own name that no one has ever called you before. Nothing else could be more you than that, but it's also something that would be exclusive to the two of you.

"Angel, my mom is on the phone. She said she misses you."

Seungmin

"Honey". It's just so sweet and light, so he thinks that it matches you very well. I don't think he would be the type to say petnames all the time but when it does happen, it's always the cutest things that leave his mouth.

"Honey, I'm on my way home. Do you want me to bring dinner?"

I.N

He's another one who I think would call you a Korean pet name, but for different reasons than Lee Know. It's probably because Korean is his mother language, so it feels more like home. And at this point, you are his home.

"Jagi have you seen my silver ring? The big one?"

Masterlist | you'll probably like: first relationships with skz

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Taglist: @yuyubeans

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated <3

[probablyintensemuses]

how wwould armando react if he is in love with the reader, but she shows no sign of feeling the same way, (he's so devoted when it comes to the reader) And he'd like to know if she feels the same way, I wish it would end in a passionate way (you know what I mean) 🔥

Te amo 🌸💗

Wait For Your Love-

Armando Aretas

summary: Armando doesn’t wish you a happy birthday so you’re day is basically ruined, up until it isn’t.

themes: angst, fluff, smut.

warnings: smut 18+

authors note: I know this isn’t exactly like the request, but genuinely I tried. I hope y’all like it 🥹. Not edited btw, I wrote this on my lunch break.

Happy birthday to you,’ kelly sang, walking a candlelight cupcake over to your desk, Dorn, Mike, and Marcus following behind her. “Happy birthday to you.”

“Happy birthday, our sweet girl, happy birthday to you.” Kelly gives you a hug from behind and you lean into her.

“Thanks guys,’ you smile big, blowing out the candle on your cupcake.

“What your young ass wish for?” Mike asks, slinging a birthday girl sash over your shoulders.

Marcus slaps his chest. “You know she can’t tell you, that’ll ruin it.”

Mike smacks his lips. “Man, shut your superstitious ass up. Seriously, what you wish for.”

You laugh. “I wished for the second day at my cafe to run smoothly for my employees.’ Everyone shakes their heads, happily, saying your wish was a great one.

“Speaking of,” you dig into your bag, pulling out pink envelopes with hearts on their seals. “If you guys can make time I’d love to have you over there for small party. It’s nothing big, just a new cake recipe I was working on, some drinks, and food if you guys want to bring any.”

They all accept your invite, taking their cards with them and back to their desks.

You sit back down with a smile and continue to unencrypte the harddrive they’d found at a crime scene. Mike had told you it was very important they get it open with everything on it.

So that was the goal today before your party, so you could get as drunk as you wanted to and cry as much as you wanted too.

Hopefully not the latter, though.

The compound door swings open with a shriek before slamming shut, echoing through the whole place.

You turn and your heart stops in your chest as Armando Aretas makes his way through.

It was no secret, to the team anyway, that you had a mild crush on Armando. Despite knowing the things of his past, some desperate part of your self truly liked him. And corny enough, you saw the goodness and potential within him.

It’s why you went with Mike to the D.A’s office and fought for him to serve out his tenured in AMMO instead of prison. You knew he wasn’t all bad, he could be reformed, you’d seen it multiple times.

Like when he took all those stab wounds for Callie, the daughter of the woman actively hunting him. Or how he tried constantly, despite his past and his own convictions, to have a relationship with Mike. Even how kind he was to you at times, especially when you know it’s hard for him, training his mind to know that kindness isn’t a weakness after years of being a product to the cartel.

So you couldn’t help but smile when you see him walk down the stairs and take a seat at his desk across from yours.

“Armando,’ Mike says. “You’re late, we’re about to start debriefing in ten.”

Armando shrugs, slinging off his leather jacket and exposing his bulging, biceps and veiny forearms.

You check the glare in your computer, checking for drool, before eyeing his torso, the skin tight black shirt doing nothing for your unquenched thirst.

“Had to pick something up.” He says, eyeing you.

You turn, looking over your shoulder. Was he actually staring at you?

Everyone else must have noticed too, because before you know it, you have eight pairs of hungry eyes watching you both.

“Anything you want to say to her?” Kelly practically nudges Armando with her voice.

Armando eyes you up in down, taking in your typical appearance of a cardigan and jeans, your curls pulled high in a puff on your head.

His eyes pull away from you as he stands and walks over to the room where the team debriefs. “Nah,” he says.

You fell your heart crash to your feet.

Did he just?

Now, you could understand if he forgot it was your birthday, but you have a cupcake with a candle on it sitting on your desk not to mention the fucking sash that says “birthday girl,” no way he thought you were just wearing it for convenience.

You thought, just for once, Armando would show you even a slither of the same kind of affections you held for him…especially on your birthday.

But you were wrong.

Your heart chips a little at that realization, you feel pathetic like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles as you ball up the invitation you had stored away for Armando, it yellow and bright unlike the others.

You were pathetic to think the man you liked would even consider you an option, let alone come to some dumb birthday party of yours. He was too busy for that, and you were too desperate.

Another year older, yet never wiser. It was clear in your delusions of Armando as you wait for his love.

###

You’re careful to not drop your cake as you push it through the swinging doors of your new cafe.

You decided to get this cafe as a side shop because you always loved pastries, and making cakes and sweet treats got you through the stress of school and the police force.

So now that you’re older, why not have a cafe for fun and passive income? Was it more stress, yes, but it was totally worth it.

“Wow, that looks amazing!” Dorn’s eyes light up as your bring the cake over to the booths and tables your friends occupy.

“You think so?” You smile.

“Oh hell yeah,’ Marcus likes his lips, clapping his hands together. “You know I’m for anything sweet so.”

You chuckle. “Forewarning. It’s a teramassu cake, so you old dogs might be up all night if you eat too much.”

“Damn! It’s like that!” Mike laughs.

You smile and begin cutting into the cake and passing out pieces. “Yeah, it’s like that.”

“And to think we basically raised you.” Marcus says. “I’m going to let you slide though. One because it’s your birthday. And two, because this cake is fire.”

You clap and squeal. “I’m so glad you like it. I didn’t want to mess it up, but it’s pretty difficult.”

“Mhm,’ kelly says, taking a sip of her wine. “So what’s harder, cake baking? Or admitting your crush to Armando?”

Your smile drops in an instant and you send an icy glare Kelly’s way. “Seriously?”

Kelly hiccups. “I’m sorry, but the way your face looked when he didn’t tell you happy birthday, I mean how can you like a guy like that? No offense, Mike.”

Mikes eyebrows rise. “I mean, it was a jerk move. But it’s Armando. Who knows, he might say happy birthday tomorrow.”

You shake your head. “Yeah, but it won’t be worth anything tomorrow when he knew today. I mean, I’m really pathetic to wish he was here when he couldn’t even do the bare minimum for me.” Your eyes well with tears.

“Hey, no.’ Dorn wipes your eyes. “Don’t cry on your birthday about him. Cry tomorrow, and then come see my therapist.”

You sniffle. “What?”

“Sorry, she’s just amazing, I always like to shout her out.”

You sigh. “Thanks, Dorn.”

Even with all this smiling faces around you, you couldn’t shake the anchor pulling at your ankle. You wished Armando would have just told you happy birthday, even pretended to care. That would have meant more to you than what you got.

But here you were, with all your friends who actually cared about you, about to cry over a guy who couldn’t even be bothered.

A tear streaks down your face and you look away. “You guys should go,’ you say. “I’m sorry.”

Mike pats your shoulder. “I’ll try talking to him.”

You grip his wrist. “Don’t. I don’t want him to know about this, he’ll think I’m insane.”

“Don’t sweat it too hard,’ kelly kisses your head. “I know plenty of guys at the department that would fall to their knees right now over you.”

“Thanks,’ you half smile, watching as your friends leave before you break down completely.

Tears streaked into your palm as you cried out. It didn’t hit you until this morning just how deeply you cared for Armando.

You truly liked him, and his blatant rejection had set all your emotions flaring.

Sniffling into your hands, the soft chime of your cafes door catches your attention.

“We’re closed.” You grumble, not bothering to look up.

“Even for me, ¿dulce niña?” Armando says.

Your head shoots up and the air is nearly knocked out of your lungs as you take him in.

He’s dapper in a black button up not all the way buttoned, exposing some of his tone chest and a silver St. Christopher necklace. His pants are the right amount of tightness, highlighting his muscular thighs, and his hair is dark and trimmed, just like his beard.

Armando, as always, is hard to look away from. But still, resist and play it cool, wiping the tears away from your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, crossing your hands over your small chest.

Armando walks towards you, hands behind his back as he observes your cafe, like some kind of museum tourist. “The cafe came together nice.” He says, stepping a bit too close to you.

For air, you take a step back, Armando notices and smirks. “Stop avoiding the question. What are you doing here?”

“I heard you had a party I wasn’t invited to. That’s not very nice, bebita.” He smirks.

“Yeah, it was invite only.”

“I don’t qualify?”

You scoff. “You didn’t even know it was my birthday.”

“I knew.”

“Oh, you knew, so you just didn’t care.”

“I cared.’ Armando gets close, pulling at the tule fabric of your pink mini dress. He lets out a shaky breath. “This is beautiful on you, by the way.”

You push him away at the chest, he hardly moves. “Stop it.” You whine.

“Stop what?”

“Stop acting like you like me!” You shout. “You don’t! And it’s fucking embarrassing, Armando!”

Armando swallows, and even in the darkness you can see the shame painted into the little creases of his face and the fast lifts of his chest.

Armando’s hands finally fall to his sides and you see now what he has done. In his hands are a large bouquet of flowers and a blue bag.

“No,” You say.

He steps forward. “This is why I was late to work, princesa, because I got this for you.”

“Armando.”

“Open it.” He says.

Reluctantly you take the bag from his hands, sharp rods of electricity swirling up your arm when your fingers meet.

Slowly, you open the bag and look inside. There, a small velvet box awaits you. Hesitant, you pick it up and open it.

You gasp at what you see. A necklace, tiny diamonds all the way around. It shimmers in the moonlight that peaks into the cafe as you hold it up.

“You bought this for me?’ You gasp. “How can you even afford this?”

Armando rolls his eyes. “I use to be a drug dealer, baby.”

You sigh and put the necklace, as pretty as it is, back into the box. “I can’t take this.” You hand it back.

Armando frowns. “Why not?”

You turn, holding yourself. “Because how do I know if you even like me?”

Armando’s eyes hidden and he holds the bag on display. “Baby, I just dropped bands on this necklace for you. I think that shows alot.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You step back, walking away from him.

He catches your arm, gently pulling you back. “Maybe?” He scoffs offended. “You didn’t even invite me tonight, yet I got you a gift, and you say maybe.”

You snatch out of his grip. “I didn’t invite you tonight because you’re an asshole!”

“I’m not!” Armando shouts back.

“Then prove it,’ you square into his space. “Stop making me wait for your love and tell me what you know I want to hear.”

Armando opens his mouth to speak, but the words are lost when he leans in, his mouth crashing onto yours.

Your shocked, your lips are still against his until something burst inside of you, everything you’ve been craving sealed in this one kiss.

This causes you to moan against his lips. Armando swallows it, slipping his hands into your curls and tilting your head to the side, turning the kiss hot and fierce.

You wrap your arms around the nape of his neck, scratching at his faded low cut, deepening your kiss.

Armando’s hands trail down the fluff of your dress until they reach the hem. He flips it upward and finds your underwear, growling as he feels the thin layer of cotton. You shudder at his touch, your pussy throbbing at the thought of him making contact.

“Fuck,’ he moans, slipping two fingers into your thongs, rolling his thick fingers over your clit.

Your head falls back as you let out a low, moan. “Fuck, baby.”

“You like that?’ He strokes his fingers up and down your soaking wet slit. “Tan mojado, maldita sea.” He growls in your ear.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Oh, yes.”

Armando grabs you by your waist flipping you around, the rounds of your ass pressed against the swells of his cock.

You gasp as Armando pushes you against his hard on, you imagine how it will feel once he’s deep inside your soaking, needy cunt.

Armando nibbles at the bottom of your ear. “You feel that baby. You feel what you do to me?”

“Y—yes,” you sputter.

He grinds against you, his face deep in your hair, taking a whiff.

“God I need to be inside you.” Armando whines. “I’ve always needed it.”

“Then do it. Stop holding back.” You moan out.

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say because in a flash Armando’s got your dress up, your thong to the side, and you bent over the counter of your cafe.

God you hoped no one walked past, because if they did, they get an eyeful of your ass and Armando’s bulging cock.

“Fuck,” Armando moans, rubbing the leaking pink tip of his cock against you sleek folds, shuddering as he pulls back, your slick dripping off his tip. “You ready, baby?”

“Yes, oh yes.” You moan, digging your head into the cold marble of the counter.

Armando strokes your entrance one last time before pushing into slowly. You both let out loud, pornagraphic moans finally being full of each other.

The strokes start of slow and deep, each smack creating friction between the top of your dress and your skin. The deeper and harder Armando fucks you, the lower your dress falls until eventually your boobs spill out.

Armando’s pace picks up and he begins to fuck you with speed that causes you to cry out. He reaches in front of you, grabbing your boobs and holding onto them, circling your nipples between his fingers, pounding deeper and harder into you.

“God, mama, you’re incredible.’ Armando growls. “I’ve dreamt of this moment.”

“More!” You moan.

Armando flips you over, lifting you up by your ass and slamming you onto the counter. He waste no time shoving into you and fucking you, your boobs bouncing up and down equivalent to his rhythm.

You reach down, rubbing your clit in circles, you’re desperate to come on Armando’s cock and have him come inside of you.

You can feel the knot in your stomach build and you know you’re close. The sounds of skin slapping and heavy moans echos off the walls of the cafe.

Your pussy leaks, leaving a white ring Armando’s cock as he drills into you, using one lifted leg as leverage.

Your knot builds, expanding, and you know you’re close to the edge.

You pull Armando close. “I want you to finish me, then I need your come inside of me.” You cry out.

Armando doesn’t even question your requests before obliterating you with speed and strokes.

Your knot unfurls and you moan out, shuttering as you

Come on his cock. Armando does the same, pumping all of him inside of you.

Sweaty and breathing hard, he pulls out, lifting you up bridal style.

He carries you to one of the larger booths at the back of the cafe, using his jacket as a blanket for you both.

“Are you on birth control?” He asks.

You shake your head no. “It’s okay. We’re fine. I’ll just get a plan B.”

Armando nods kissing your forehead. “And by the way,’ he pulls you into his strong arms. “Happy birthday.”

You snicker, eyelids heavy. “Thank you.”

[visual-freak]

Saiki Kusuo Headcanons

Note: doing this because I need a way to let these thoughts out of my head

- he’s definitely the type to eat & drink your own food the second you turn your head away and will pretend as if your piece of cake missing a bite wasn’t his doing

- he’ll buy you a new one don’t worry (and proceed to take a bite out of that one too) (yall he literally drank teruhashis smoothie while invisible simply because😭)

- DO NOOOOOT try to engage in PDA with him. He will find and try every way to avoid it at any cost. It creates to much attention towards him.

- he’ll make up to you later in private

- the type to teleport to your room at random times when he “needs your help” with something

- he wanted an excuse to be around you, though if you try and say that to him he’ll leave to try and prove a point. (He’s gonna come back eventually)

- He will stalk you

- this is canon, and if you say otherwise..you’re lying

- he literally stalks his friends all the time in the series to make sure they’re okay. Though he claims it’s because if he doesn’t then it’ll inconvenience him in some way

- but yeah, you’re not at school one day? Using clairvoyance to figure out where you at

- decide to take a walk alone at night for some reason? He’s using invisibility and is lowkey right behind you

- He practically has your entire routine memorized to the beat

-How’d he know you love coming to this corner store afterschool to get this specific snack? Lucky guess🤷🏾‍♀️

- He was most definitely not the one to confess

- how you got him to actually commit to being with you is beyond my abilities as a writer ✋🏾😔

-but he is extremely loyal

-buddy does not play about his partner

- teruhashi? Now he’s definitely working overtime to get her to get OVER him, avoiding her like the black plague

- might even use his annoyed face (jkjk he knows that her minions might actually murder him somehow someway)

- it’s going to take him a LOONG time for him to tell you about his powers.

- like he would need to trust you A TON

-but when you do find out and you’re cool with it, it’s definitely a lot of weight off his shoulders

- someone he can actually talk to about his problems openly

- speaking of his powers he’s not letting kusuke ANYWHERE NEAR YOU

-ABSOLUTELY NOT

- his brother as shown in the series will use anything and ANYONE to get to kusuo just so he can beat him at SOMETHING

-God forbid his brother tries bringing you into his sadistic little game of his, who knows what kusuo will do

- also his parents adore you. Especially his mother

- she invite you over a lot, whether it’s for tea, cooking lessons or a special event

- his grandparents are waiting for your wedding (to kusuo’s displeasure, he’s sick of hearing them saying that)

-there’s been multiple times kusuo will simply just drag you to his room for some privacy or just go somewhere outside the house.

- but that would usually mean bumping into your others nuisances friends.

- which he will ever so slightly lean into your side as a way of telling you he wants to leave

- ok my brain has stopped functioning. Good night and enjoy!

[bbyobbyo]

Everyone thinks Vernon is always at your place because you feed him. While you can agree it's mostly true, there might be more to it than meets the eye.

content: fluff, f2l, mentions of food

wc: 1.6k

notes: me taking a stab at writing lol. i also don't know how tumblr works. inspired by the fact that this man will eat everything in sight regardless if its someone else's food or not. i'd love to cook for him someday ❤

6pm on the dot. You don't even have to check to know who it is.

"Hey, Sol." You look up from the pot you've been stirring to greet your visitor who let himself in. Your apartment's passcode was practically muscle memory at this point.

"Hey, smells good in here," he comments while taking off his shoes, "I mean — it always does but you get it." You give him a little chuckle in response.

You hadn't been friends with Hansol for very long, but when a mutual friend decided to introduce you two to each other, you instantly hit it off. The whirlwind of a friend group you now shared was filled with strong personalities and quirks: Seungcheol was the self-proclaimed "dad" of the group but you'd swear he would whine and complained more than the rest of them combined. Seungkwan, the one who always had a sassy quip to share, but would be the first to cry at Disney movie nights. There was Jihoon, who showed his love exclusively with acts of service but is so tsundere he would rather die to admit he had any kind of emotions besides annoyance. Not to mention Soonyoung, who made it his mission to convince everyone that he was a tiger. No one knew how this bit started but everyone finds it entertaining nonetheless.

Amongst them all, Hansol was just a dude. A normal guy. As funny as it sounds, that's what made you two click so well. Not that he didn't have his own aspirations (and his own fair share of quirks!), but he had always been the sort of person that was along for the ride. Although a little bit clueless at times, you could tell his heart was in the right place.

"I brought dessert, by the way," He plops a plastic bag onto the kitchen counter, his cheekbones pushed all the way out in a smug grin, "hope you like it."

"Aww, Sol you didn't have to!" delight in your eyes as you wipe your freshly washed but still wet hands on your pants and scurry over to peek inside the bag. "Oh my god, this is that tiramisu from that bougie place, isn't it?! I heard the wait times were, like, over an hour. You're insane for this, thank you so much!" You're practically beaming as you put the dessert in refrigerator, promptly turning around to give him a hug. His hands automatically reach around your back as you bury your face into his chest. Man, he will never get tired of the way you smile at him over the smallest things.

"You're always feeding me, so it's like, the least I can do really" he murmurs as you let go, his own smile spreading across his face when you look up at him.

Right. Your relationship with Hansol was rooted in the fact that you both loved food. Cooking food in your case, and eating it for him. It was a match made in heaven, really. In the beginning stages of your friendship, you always noticed how he would always ask for bites of other peoples' food, the way he would eye a bag of snacks if anyone dared to bring them out, the "you gonna finish that..?" that would inevitably follow the conclusion of every meal. The guy was a human trash can with a black hole in place of his stomach. So really, was anyone surprised when Hansol practically attached himself to you that day you brought in those homemade baked goods for the friend group?

After that day, the rest was history. His insatiable hunger and the lack of his own cooking skills (poor dude would be consuming toast everyday if he didn't eat out) made him worship the ground you walked on whenever you fed him. In turn, his enthusiasm for your cooking and willingness to give honest feedback on your experimental recipes made him a regular guest at your apartment, much like today.

Hansol would be lying if he said he didn't feel like he was taking advantage of you sometimes, no matter how much you insisted that it wasn't the case. He always tried his best to chip in for your groceries or pick up ingredients when you didn't have time. He didn't even mind the way his friends teased him for being at your place more often than his own or the fact that you gained your own nickname among the guys as his personal chef. He was happy with your little arrangement, and it also helped that you were so easy to be around.

"Hey, can you help me set the table?" you say as you push a stack of plates and tableware toward him. Your attention is quickly pulled away again as you go to plate the food you've been laboring over the past hour.

The routine is a familiar one: sitting down across from each other with a wide array of dishes and sides in between. You always make him take the first bites; "I already taste tested everything as I was cooking, silly!" you would say, eyes focused and hands tucked under your chin eagerly awaiting his reactions and thoughts.

Today's meal was a hit, as it usually is. Hansol could count less than a handful of times that he didn't love your food, and even then he still ate everything despite you telling him that it was okay if he didn't finish it.

The next part of the routine, however, rivals even the food in his eyes. Both of you are glued to the chairs chatting away, even when all the food is long gone and empty plates remain on the table. Between you two, there was always something to talk about. Tangents turn to into more tangents turn into "remember when we…" turn into "we should totally do…" Hours can pass by before one of you even remembers that there was dessert in the fridge, and even more hours before either of you get up again to go wash the dishes. When that happens, you simply carry the conversation to the kitchen except this time with the gentle running of sink as background noise.

You were like a breath of fresh air from the chaos of his main friend group and someone he felt entirely comfortable with. Except lately he's been wanting to see you more and more. He would catch himself staring at his phone hoping a text from you would pop up, asking him to come over again.

He's embarrassed to admit that you have never hung out one-on-one outside of the walls of your apartment. It was an unspoken boundary that you two saw each other under the pretense of food, a boundary that he increasingly would like to cross.

You're not even looking at him, attention focused on scrubbing away at the pot in your hand, still talking about that awkward encounter with your neighbor yesterday. But the longer he stares at you, Hansol thinks to himself — have you always been this pretty? He traces every part of your form, from the micro expressions you make with your eyebrows as you talk, to noticing the little strands of hair by your face that escaped the ponytail you put it in, and the way your left sleeve is slowly slipping down your arm and in danger of getting soaked.

"...so screw me if I thought that it was none of his busine— Sol...?"

Before he even knew what he was doing he found himself abandoning his plate drying duty and sliding behind you at the sink, your back pressed against his chest as he grabbed your sleeve and gingerly rolled it up your arm once again. Just as he thinks you can't get any more gorgeous, his world stops when you turn your head around and he finds your face inches from his. The way your eyes glisten into his own makes the split second feel like an eternity before pulling away.

"S-sorry if I scared you, just didn't want your sleeve to get wet." adding a nervous chuckle to the end as he returns to the stack of tableware he has yet to dry.

"N-no! It's okay! Thank you for that!" you stammer back, trying not to look him in the eyes to hide the very obvious blush that spread on your cheeks. "Ahaha... yeah so anyways, what was I saying again?" Without missing a beat, he replies "you were talking about how your nosy neighbor thinks we're dating because I come over so often."

"Oh, haha, right..." your voice is barely above a whisper, a chuckle dies in your throat as you realize you've been scrubbing an already clean pot for 5 minutes now. You sigh as you turn off the water and start drying off your hands to put the dishes back in their places.

"I don't mind," he says after a thoughtful pause. It takes a second for you to register the words. "Sorry, what?"

"I don't mind if he thinks we're dating."

You feel like the hearing comprehension part of your brain just reset. "Wait, wha-"

"I think it would be kinda nice actually... if we dated."

After a second too long of silence from you, he was the one with panic with his eyes this time. "B-but only if you want to! Shit, uh, sorry I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. Just forget I said anyth-"

He's interrupted by your arms snaking around his neck. "You're hopeless, Sol", you say as you press a light kiss to his lips. "I think it would be nice if we dated, too."

[fluffiematcha]

woozi x fem. reader ( husband & wife ) fluff, pregnancy au

warnings : food, english isn't my mothertongue

“how is it?”

“it’s so so good! the richness of the taste, the spices which combine perfectly and...” jihoon smiles proudly but tenderly seeing you eat with such enthusiasm.

cooking for you was quite difficult during the early stages of your pregnancy. the smell was either too strong for your sense of smell or you had no appetite at all due to morning sickness.

but that was before. cooking meals for you is now his favorite hobby, even if sometimes your ideas are a little crazy. seeing you happily ramble while you eat about how good the foods are pleases him. seeing your cute smile and hearing the noises you make brings him an inexplicable amount of joy.

jihoon starts doing the dishes and cleaning the worktop and counter while you finish your plate.

“do you think it will be a girl or a boy?” you ask out of nowhere.

“i don’t know. but does that matter? the important thing is that the baby is born healthy.”

“i was just asking.” he can hear you chewing loudly, a sign that you are eating well.

it was difficult to see you without an appetite and without the happy glow that adorned your eyes. jihoon can now sleep peacefully, no longer having to worry if you and the baby are eating properly.

“if you really want to know, we can always do the ultrasound.”

once the dishes are finished, he wipes his hands with a cloth and then turns around to face you.

“no need, i can wait until i give birth.”

you decided to keep the baby’s gender a surprise to discover since it doesn’t matter. whether it’s a boy or a girl, you will always love him or her no matter what.

jihoon takes a napkin and gently wipes the crumbs off your cheek. you murmur a small thank you and return to eat your food. ‘you’re cute’ he thinks to himself. he places an affectionate kiss on your temple and then tenderly strokes your hair.

a smile forms on his face, and jihoon feels complete and happy. his soul feels at peace in the comfort of your home.

later, you two are sitting on the couch, snuggled together and wrapped in a thick duvet. you don’t do anything in particular, just cuddle, seeking each other’s warmth and comfort.

“you know you’ve changed.”

“eh? how so?”

“i mean, you're still the same person, just something’s changed. you became more soft, more affectionate, more... you know what i mean right?”

you have a little trouble expressing what you want to say, jihoon giggles, making you laugh too.

he inwardly melts at your cuteness. your eyes practically glow with joy and excitement but hold a soothing softness at the same time. the smile on your face depicts the happiness and joy of the world for him. jihoon can’t help but smile lovingly.

“yeah, i know.”

he has indeed become more affectionate since the announcement of your pregnancy. he already loved giving you hugs and kisses before but it has increased three times more when he knew you were going to become parents.

he's also not afraid to initiate these gestures of affection even in public when he knows you really need them.

perhaps the idea that he is going to become a dad and start his own family with the woman of his life has made him softer than before.

he hugs you tighter and kisses your forehead affectionately. he sighs in pure happiness.

it’s far from the life he imagined he would spend, he who thought he would spend his life in his office only returning very late at night with no one to welcome him home.

now, he has you to come home to and soon a beautiful little being will be added to the family.