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tofuxtea · 7 months

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𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊 + “𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑” 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 | 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 + 𝙘𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dracule mihawk x fem!reader x shanks

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, threesome, cuckholding, fingering, praise (shanks), teasing + edging (mihawk), reader is shanks’ lover, shanks has both arms for the sake of the plot, porn with plot, “mama” and “sweetheart” are used by shanks, “darling” and “naughty girl” are used by mihawk, p in v sex, shanks watches mihawk fuck his girl and gets off to it!

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — 2.7k words. got this idea from the ending scene where mihawk brings shanks luffy’s wanted poster. they gave such divorced husbands energy and i fucking loved it so much. also what i wouldn’t kill to be in between these two anyways ??! [kinktober m.list]

“bring out the reserve booze, boys.”

your captain had loudly cheered upon discovering the bounty that had been set on an old apprentice of his. that was nearly four hours ago, a rowdy party slowly beginning to wind down.

a majority of your fellow crew-mates had passed out by now, strewn out around in the sand and drunkenly muttering incoherencies in their sleep. the rest were sharing stories by the fire they were lighting, seeing as the sun was giving its final fiery orange hue from the horizon. night would come not long after.

you were still among the living, slowly working on your third cup of the night while swinging in shanks’ hammock. the man himself was busy with the remnants of his crew while they started the nightly bonfire, laughing and celebrating with them.

you smiled towards the man before you broke out into a yawn, realizing you had partied pretty hard that night. it was starting to wind down anyways, who was going to miss you for the rest of it?

so you stumbled out of the hammock with your drink in your hand and started to where the red force had been docked for the week, pausing when you heard a familiar voice calling for you.

“where’re you off to, sweetheart?” shanks asked, playfully swatting at beckman and roux as they not-so-quietly shot suggestive jokes at their captain.

you only smiled back. “off to the ship. you can come join me in a few if you’d like.” you remarked before strutting off, shaking your head as you walked when you heard the boys’ whoops and shouts at the wink you’d given him.

you trekked through the sand for a while before you were aboard the red force, heading straight for yours and shanks sleeping quarters. yet once you ducked inside the dinette, you were stopped short with a shout.

mihawk, shanks’ old rival and the one who had informed them of one monkey d. luffy’s bounty, sat at the dining bench, yellow eyes piercing right through you the second you walked in. “good god, mihawk.” you clutched your chest. “what’re you doin’ in here?” you asked him, laughing lightly.

“the party’s out there, you know.” he replied lazily, swirling the glass he had definitely taken from the ship’s cupboard before taking a sip.

“i should be telling you that.” you squinted warily at his cup. “that better not be shanks’ stashed booze.”

oh, it most definitely was. you could tell by the color alone. how he’d even found it was a mystery, though. he never told anybody where he hid his special liquor. but you only rolled your eyes and took a seat beside him, slumping back with a sigh. “party’s almost over.” you replied softly. “i’m surprised you stayed for so long. figured you’d have a lotta marine work to tend to.”

“i don’t work for them.” mihawk quickly shot you a narrow glance. then he paused and his eyes lowered to his cup. “i’m surprised he asked me to stay.”

“ah.” you nodded understandingly as you took a sip of your own drink. “i was, too. it’s been a while since we’ve last seen you, you know.”

mihawk seemed to pick up on the little underlying suggestiveness in your voice and you noticed his eyebrows pinch together. but it wasn’t hardly the reaction you wanted.

truth was, you’d known him since he was shanks’ rival. the two engaged in battles constantly when they were younger, but over the years they grew farther and farther apart until they just stopped.

the two seemed to form a strange alliance a couple of years ago, which had unintentionally blossomed into something much more not long after that. with you being a key member of shanks’ crew and his lover, you often joined the two for drinks whenever they were together.

sometimes you guys would have too many. the first time it ever happened, it was completely unexpected. it was most definitely the alcohol that had you straddling mihawk’s lap, bucking into the hand between your legs while shanks watched the both of you, painfully hard in his pants.

the second time, however, was not the alcohol anymore. nor were the handful of times after that.

it went on for months. you were shared between the two men more times than you could count on your two hands. it had gotten to the point where you believed mihawk only wanted to pop up for drinks for that reason alone, seeing as the man would vanish not long after you and shanks would knock out. then, as his and shanks’ battles had been, he stopped coming by as often. and then he stopped completely.

the two of you tried to keep regular tabs on the man — not necessarily out of concern for his safety seeing as he had been deemed one of the seven warlords of the sea, but out of sheer curiosity — but eventually it became a second thought. while shanks was well aware that mihawk would never get off of his tail for any reason, you doubted that. at first you believed he was bored of the two of you. maybe he was looking for something new, which didn’t tie you into knots. maybe it was partly out of shame.

shame from having drunkenly fucked his old rival’s lover right in front of him. shame from having done it over and over for months. shame from having enjoyed it a little bit too much.

no matter the reason he once had, he was back now. he’d traveled from wherever he had once been to give shanks a piece of paper. a piece of paper that the crew would have stumbled onto regardless — seeing as the bounty that they were celebrating was the highest in all of the east blue. the kid would’ve become a ship-hold name in no time. and as you stared at the side of mihawk’s motionless face, you knew that he knew that, too.

“you’ve missed me, darling?” you knew he was baiting you the second that name left his mouth, and fortunately for him it was working. your lips slowly curled upwards into an impish smirk and you breathed out a weak laugh.

“you could say that.” you replied with a shrug. you weren’t planning on losing to his games so quickly. he’d made you wait so damn long, after all. “didn’t you?” feigning cluelessness, you leaned into him and slid your palm over his clothed leg.

mihawk didn’t flinch, glancing first at the hand that slowly started moving upwards and then into your eyes. for the first time that night, he stared at you. his eyes were squinted slightly like he was questioning your actions, even though he was well aware of what you were doing.

part of you had not an inkling of knowledge of what he was thinking about. he’d left his cup onto the table in front of him, letting you know you had his attention, but his expression was unreadable, as was his body. but all it took was one look into his yellow eyes that washed away all of your doubt. those never lied to you. you looked down at his lips, running your tongue over your own as you found yourself craving him. his touch, his lips, him.

he brought his hand up to your face, gently pinching your jaw between his fingers as he tilted your head back just a little bit. “i did.” he finally admitted after a long and tense silence. he spoke quietly now, like if he was even slightly too loud, the moment would end.

yet it still did. a noise coming from the entrance made both of your heads turn, and shanks froze as he shut the door behind him, eyeing the scene before him. then he broke out into a wide grin. “i see you got to her before i could.” he took his bottom lip between his teeth as he strode up to the table, eyeing you like a piece of meat. “how ‘bout we take this to bed before the others come lookin’ f’me, hm?”

you could smell the booze on his breath as he pulled you to your feet. you followed him to the room you shared with him, mihawk at your side with his hand pressed into the small of your back. you swore you could see a gentle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he walked, but you’d forgotten all about it once the door shut behind you and shanks pounced on you.

his lips crashed onto yours, wasting no time to push his tongue into your mouth. you moaned, all of the fight leaving your body as he guided you towards the bed. he had a tight grip on your wrist, his other hand squeezing your exposed hip with lust-fueled fervor. you could feel mihawk’s gaze on the both of you and soon you heard his coat hit the ground. your top was next, shanks releasing you only to peel the tight shirt from your torso and toss it aside.

both pairs of eyes shamelessly raked down your naked body, shanks wasting no time to get rid of your shorts next.

“don’t just stare now, mihawk.” you spoke with a devilish smile as you sat yourself on the edge of the bed. the man got the message and followed you, slotting himself between your legs and caging you between his arms. you gently squeezed his hips with your thighs with a giggle before pulling him down into a heated kiss, grasping the brim of his hat and throwing it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. mihawk groaned against your lips and he bucked into your clothed heat, drawing a whine from you.

your fingers raked through his hair, pulling at his dark ruffled curls each time he would rock his hips into yours. “mihawk,” you purred his name into his ear the moment he pulled away, enjoying the way his breath slightly hitched at the sound of your voice. your hand dove between your bodies and you desperately tugged at the waistband of his pants. “please. need you so badly.” you mindlessly babbled on.

“i’ve never seen her this desperate,” shanks whispered as he crept up behind you on the bed. “c’mon, mama, use your words. tell him where you want him.” the red-haired man looped his arms underneath your armpits, pulling you flush against his chest. he spoke tauntingly, a shit-eating smirk on his face as he looked down at you.

you whined, eyes squeezing shut with what felt like agonizing pain. “need you inside me, please.” you writhed in shanks’ hold, trying to rut up into mihawk’s clothed erection.

“you’ve already made her wait this long.” shanks now stared at mihawk with a lazy grin, waiting to see what he’d do next.

he shot shanks a narrow glance before turning back to you, eyeing the tears that were welling in your waterline because of him. “i suppose i have.” your eyes lit up at his confession and you waited for him to fulfill your wishes.

instead, he lifted himself off of you, completely deaf to your garbled protests, and lowered himself onto his knees beside the bed. you jumped when he pressed the pad of his finger against the damp spot on your panties, his eyes finding yours. “already so wet and i haven’t even touched you yet. naughty girl.” he spoke lowly as he hooked his slender fingers into the waistband of your panties and peeled them down your legs.

mihawk hooked your legs over his shoulders as he pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. you very poorly bit back a cry and let your head fall back onto shanks’ shoulder. he laughed softly.

“so noisy already, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

mihawk’s lips drew closer and closer to where you needed him most, drinking up every single noise you made because of him. his hand left your thigh and he started circling your clit with his thumb, watching your face morph with pleasure. you writhed around, wanting so desperately to squeeze your legs shut or card your fingers through his hair, but shanks had your arms restrained behind your back.

you bit your lip to keep your cries from spilling out each time mihawk brushed over your sensitive clit. the sensation was already winding up the coil in your gut and you could feel your orgasm building up fast.

“c’mon, sweetheart, let us hear those pretty noises. for us, hm?” shanks cooed into your ear, one of his arms releasing its hold on you to grasp your jaw, his thumb pushing past your lips and onto the flat of your tongue.

you gasped at the intrusion, and mihawk took your moment of weakness to slide his middle and ring fingers into your cunt. you choked against an obscene moan, and your walls clenched around his digits.

“there we go.” shanks mumbled, satisfied as more and more moans spilled from your mouth with each thrust of mihawk’s fingers. “ya sound so pretty for us, mama.”

mihawk was unrelenting, thrusting his fingers inside of you to the knuckle and keeping the pace he knew melted you every time. he could sense your orgasm nearing as your cries grew higher and your thighs started to tremble in his grasp.

he kept going until you were just about to come crashing down, your eyes squeezed shut with anticipation when he suddenly pulled his fingers out.

a sob tore from your throat. “no, nonono, mihawk!” you tried to chase after him as he lifted himself to his feet, but shanks held you securely in place.

it was pitiful, really.

“no need to cry, darling, you’ll get what you want.” mihawk towered over you, gently wiping the fat tear that had rolled down your temple. it was then that you became aware of the distance shanks had put between you and himself. your arms were freed from his grasp, but it wasn’t like you had the strength or mind to use them.

mihawk’s other hand swiftly nudged his pants down his hips, just enough to free his hard cock, before swooping down to catch you in a deep kiss. you moaned into his mouth, drinking in the taste of booze that still lingered on his tongue.

the man pushed himself inside of you, groaning softly into your ear as your velvety walls sucked him in. you cried out and grasped his arms to try to keep yourself grounded. “mihawk!” you moaned when he started thrusting, his pace already unrelenting.

you could hear shanks just beside you, groaning lowly at the sight before him while he jerked his aching cock in his fist. he stared at your face, which was twisted up with utter pleasure, through hooded lids.

a cry slipped from your lips with each of mihawk’s slow, deep thrusts. it was a feeling so familiar yet so foreign after so long of not having him. you’d almost forgotten how perfectly he filled you up, how he was able to hit every single blissful spot inside of you.

you clung to him, your nails gently digging into his skin while he planted sloppy kisses to your neck. you knew they would blossom into bruises that you wouldn’t be able to explain to the rest of the crew the next day.

it didn’t take much longer before you were close, barely able to warn mihawk of your quickly approaching orgasm. but he already knew. he could tell by the way your eyes squeezed shut and how your whines had gotten much higher than before.

“that’s it, darling. just let go.” his palm soothingly slid up and down the side of your waist while he fucked you through your orgasm. your knuckles went white with how tightly you held his biceps and your head lulled back as a string of incoherent curses and moans flew from your swollen lips.

shanks’ breath hitched at the unfolding scene. “fuck, you look so pretty when you come, sweetheart. just for us.” he spoke against gritted teeth as his own orgasm washed over him, thick ropes of cum painting his own hand.

mihawk pulled out moments later, his seed landing on your lower stomach with a groan. his hooded eyes lingered on your cunt, messy with your own cum as it started to drip out of you. the sight nearly made him hard again within seconds.

you laid still, taking a minute to catch your breath when a low laugh from shanks made you pick your head back up.

“don’t fall asleep on us now, mama, we ain’t done yet.”

something about shanks and the word “mama” has done something irreversible and irreparable to my brain chemistry.

#kinktober #one piece kinktober #one piece shanks #shanks #shanks op #shanks smut #shanks one piece smut #one piece smut #shanks op smut #op smut #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk smut #mihawk smut #shanks x reader #one piece mihawk #mihawk op smut #mihawk x shanks x reader #mihawk x shanks

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margowritesthings · 9 months

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A Job Well Done

pairing: Arthur Morgan x reader (f) word count: 4944 words warnings: 18+ minors dni, sexually explicit, oral (f giving), rough oral, a little choking, a touch of voyeurism, explicit language, it's pretty much a blowjob fic authors note: idk what to say... this started as a little drabble because me and my fiancé love having a little smoke together at night and.... well, here we are I guess?? i hope you enjoy you lovely lot, and if you've asked to be tagged and you're not please let me know!! I have a new system for keeping track of my taglist and I may have lost some requests in the transfer

taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes @mrsarthurmorgan7 @twola@the-marsh-harrier @wildfloweroutlaw @photo1030 @luvliewriting@pine4pple-b0i *if i've missed you please let me know!!!*

You pull Arthur’s jacket tighter around your shoulders, settling into the old wooden chair while it creaks beneath you. Thanks to being in the middle of the Lemoyne swamps, it isn’t too cold despite the moon hanging so high in the sky above you, the jacket is more for comfort. From where you sit, you can see near the whole camp, watching lanterns flicker off incrementally as each member of your makeshift family retires for the night. A few of the boys stay up, drinking by the fire, their voices muffled and distant in the thick air.

It’s been a week to the day since you last saw Arthur, before he left to track a rather sizable bounty down and attempt to cushion out the camp funds, and God do you miss him. The days feel so much longer, nights so lonely you’ve considered saddling up and finding the bastard yourself just to bring him home sooner. Comfort can be found, though, in the ways Arthur’s presence has bled so deeply into your life that his physical being doesn’t even need to be here.

His smell lingers on the jacket he left (the one he wore every day before he had to leave just so you could wear it when you missed him), that perfect mix of tobacco and whiskey and something so ineffably Arthur that you soak up every time you wrap it around your frame.

He’s there in the routines you've built your lives around, intertwined as they are, the ones you can’t shake even if he’s not beside you. The cup of coffee in a morning, his so much better tasting than yours but you try anyway. The first morning after he left, you made two, ending up giving the extra to a very grateful Abigail to save face.

There’s a nightly routine, too. The one where you get ready for bed, then climb through the window to meet him on your balcony. He’s always there waiting with a cigarette hanging from his lips, patting his lap ready for you to crawl on. He’ll drag a match across his boot, (or sometimes the bottom of yours, if you’re still wearing them) lighting up the smoke before handing it to you. You’ll pass it between each other, catching up on your days, limbs entangled just how they should be as you watch Shady Belle fall asleep around you.

Without him, those routines bring you comfort, grasping onto the remnants of your cowboy until his safe return. That’s why you’re sitting in this spot, pulling a cigar out of the little tin stash box Arthur left behind. Normally it’s just a cigarette, you could never survive a cigar a night and have the throat to tell the tale, but there’s something inexplicably Arthur about this brand of smokes, something you’re seeking tonight.

You pluck a match from the tin, striking it against the table beside you, never having gotten the knack of igniting the thing on your boot as effortlessly as Arthur does, and light the cigar between your lips. The all-familiar woody essence dances across your tongue, your tired muscles relaxing from the first few tokes.

It’s just you, the moon and the crickets as you sit on the balcony, Arthur’s smoke between your lips. You wonder what he’s doing. He should be sleeping, but knowing him he’s probably up planning, or doing exactly what you are right now. You pray he’s safe, hasn’t been gotten by the law or worse, gotten himself killed. You can’t let yourself even think about that, the very idea bringing a tremble to your limbs. To combat the sudden spike in anxiety, the next time you bring the cigar to your lips you drag in just that bit more smoke, letting it soak down your spine. Not nearly as experienced in smoking as Arthur, you cough a little, but you recover much quicker than you used to.

Memories of that first time, of Arthur offering you the little brown stick and you nervously nodding, bring a little smile to your face. Oh, how you spluttered, Arthur giving you his drink on instinct, only realising that the whiskey burn would do the opposite of help once it was too late. You’d have been in your right mind to be embarrassed as hell, but by the way he chuckled as he rubbed circles around your back told you that he found it nothing but adorable.

You sit there for a few minutes, basking in the precious peace so seldom found nowadays and taking a drag every now and then, the smoke riding a sigh from your lips. Your eyes slip closed, trying to shut off as many senses as you can to really connect with that smell and taste, imagining him emerging from your bedroom window to be here with you.

He’s much less graceful than you are, often catching some part of his person on the windowsill when he climbs out onto the balcony. So many nights spent patching up little holes in his pant legs, right where that out sticking nail used to be in the frame before he ‘bested it in combat’ (i.e. pulled it out with a hunting knife and threw it ceremoniously in the lake).

Manifestation is a powerful tool, you’ve always believed that, but you still nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a large hand grasp your shoulder just as you imagined, Arthur’s gruff, hushed whisper tickling the words “hey, sweetheart” into the skin of your neck. It takes you a second to catch your breath, heart racing from the shock before everything registers and reality sets in.

“Arthur?”

He’s here.

“C’mere, darlin’.”

You fly out of your seat, the rickety old thing nearly splintering under the force, launching yourself into his open arms to burrow yourself into him. Every part of him consumes your senses and you drink it all in like an addict. The smell, the real thing, much more of that Arthur essence than the whiskey or cigars, probably because he forewent breaks in his journey for those little pleasures to get back to you sooner.

He seems to be taking you in as much as you are him, inhaling long through his nose and sighing it out contentedly, feeling whole again after so long without you in his arms.

“I missed ya’, beautiful.” He says softly into your hair, holding you tight against him, his knuckles brushing up and down the small of your back through layers of clothes you’ve stolen from him.

“I missed you so much…” You mumble into his shirt, hardly able to breathe through the wall of hard chest muscle you’re pressed against, caring even less.

It’s only then do you remember the cigar, forgotten and abandoned, smoking away on the table propped up on a jar lid turned makeshift ashtray. Most of the boys don’t bother with one, and neither did Arthur, until a fateful night a few months before you started dating when you first handed him the jar and told him you read something about birds and rabbits eating the butts of cigarettes. He kept the little piece of junk right next to his bedside, waiting for you to find it after that first night together.

Arthur spots your momentary pull of attention, pulling his chest away to raise a brow down at you with a little chuckle rumbling his chest.

“Having a fancy smoke of a night, are we?”

A cheeky little smirk- Arthur’s favourite, actually- tugs at the corner of your lips, waiting patiently for him to kiss it away.

“The smell reminds me of you…” you play coy, earring yourself that kiss when Arthur lifts you up to his height, kissing you softly, letting his world and yours fall back into place together.

“Well I’m here now, angel. Wanna sit? Could do with a nice cigar with my girl to celebrate a job well done.”

You’re eager to nod, heart fluttering at the prospect of getting to sit with him and hear all about his trip. He untangles from you to sit down first, patting his lap for you to crawl into. You fit perfectly together (you should do, you were made for eachother), head resting on his shoulder, legs splayed over his thighs with your arm draped over his shoulder. The cigar has gone out, so Arthur strikes a match so expertly on his spurs before shaking it out and placing his hand on the small of your back for support. You lean into him, watching him take puffs of the cigar and feeling the tiniest bit of tension leave his joints. He looks so natural with a smoke between his teeth, commanding an air of power with each movement he makes. Smoking doesn’t suit just everyone, you think, but God, does it suit him.

“We’re celebrating? You got the bastard, then?”

“Sure did,” he says, smoke spilling from his lips with each syllable. Arthur looks you over again, drinking in the dearly missed view, before kissing you on the forehead and flipping the cigar between his fingers to offer it up, “Eventually found him up in Fort Brennand, but he weren’t alone. Nearly lost a damn eye, but luckily only Woffard had to be brought in alive, so I dropped the other bastards and ran.”

You hang on his every word, your hero. You know he’s downplaying the fight, the danger of it all, but he does it so that you don’t worry every time he’s gone. It never works, and you always do, but you love him for trying.

“Oh, Arthur, I’m so glad you’re alright…” You coo, pressing a hand to his cheek, feeling the weeks worth of stubble scratching against your palm. He nuzzles into your touch, not unlike a cat, and your find yourself keeping your hand there to mindlessly play with his hair, tipping his hat off to put on your own head. He chuckles, reaching to adjust it on you.

“Course I am, couldn’t leave you here all alone with this buncha’ fools, could I? Besides, someones gotta bring home the bacon around here, and you know Marston’s too trigger happy to bring a bounty in alive.”

“So you got the full price?” Your eyes gleam, the proudest smile on your features as Arthur nods and shifts both your weights for a moment to pull out a stack of bills and smack them on the table dramatically.

“You’re damn straight I did, baby.”

Of course he did. Arthur never fails, and God knows how much the camp needs this right now, freedoms diminishing by the day as Dutch makes more enemies and plans jobs that just seem to keep going wrong. But you don’t want to think about that right now. Right now, there is only you and Arthur, and the promise of a whole night spent with him uninterrupted. You hand him the cigar back, along with a stolen kiss, and he takes another mesmerising drag. The way he holds it, every so often tipping the ash into the first gift you ever gave him, it does things to you that you just can’t explain. It’s just a cigar, and yet you’re pressing your thighs together tight to futilely subdue the tightness coiling between them.

“I’m so proud of you… I always am.” Unkempt locks of hair are twisted between your fingers, your face so close to Arthur’s you can pepper his cheek, temple and lips, whenever not occupied, with little kisses, Arthur’s hat sometimes tipping up against his forehead on your head. The two of you are always like this after a few days apart, unable to get enough of each other or keep your hands off one another. You shift your weight to access him better, catching his bottom lip between your teeth to press a long, tender kiss there. He hums under you, hand splaying under your jacket to grasp at your shirt. It’s seconds before you feel it, that hardening that nudges up against your thigh, prodding and reminding you just how much Arthur has missed you.

You pull away from the kiss, just enough to raise a teasing brow at how sensitive your cowboy is to your touch. He shrugs, unashamed, with that cheeky grin and those glistening eyes directed right at you.

“What? I missed ya…” His words are accompanied with a pinch of your ass, which makes you writhe on top of his stiffness, the friction dragging a low growl from deep within his chest.

“I can see that, cowboy… I missed you too. I missed you more.” You emphasise, nipping at his lip again and splaying your fingers across his chest. He rises to your touch, and you feel him stiffen more so under you. It takes a second of manoeuvring, but you’re soon straddling him, hovering above him like the angel he sees you to be. From this angle, with the moon behind you, you’re glowing.

“You absolutely did not, you little siren…” He growls again, pulling at the flesh of your ass so that you’re grinding against him, the friction of denim against denim igniting you both and burning so wonderfully.

“Oh, yeah? I can prove it.” There’s a little cock of your head, a raise of one teasing brow as you start to slide off him. He looks confused, disappointed, even, until your knees rest on the planks of wood on the balcony floor and he instinctively spreads his legs to give you the space between them. Your fingers splay across his thick thighs, and they tense under your touch, as does Arthur’s jaw. He’s starved after a week without you, clearly trying to reign in a control he’s struggling to possess. There’s no wonder, having his girl knelt before him like this.

“You wanna take this to the bedroom?” He growls out, abandoning the still smoking cigar in the jar lid. You look up at him, peeking out from under the rim of his hat.

“No.” You reach for the cigar, taking a few drags yourself before flipping it in your fingers just like he did and placing it between his teeth, “Finish your smoke.”

A distant laugh captures Arthur’s attention for a second, reminding you both just how close you are to the other gang members. You’re somewhat hidden by the railing, but if they looked in your direction, Arthur is fully visible from the chest up. A simple bob of your head- and you’re planning on plenty- would bring you into view.

The look Arthur gives you when he quickly diverts his attention back from Marston and the others is downright feral, especially when your hands reach for his belt buckle. Nimble fingers make quick word of the obstruction, and you’re soon pulling Arthur’s thick, long length out from his jeans. He groans at your very touch, involuntarily bucking his hips up into your hand.

You laugh, the sound a tempting little giggle as you tell him “Patience, cowboy…”

He almost snarls in response, clearly having been goddamn patient enough over the last week where all he could do is fuck himself with your name on his lips and the thought of you knelt just like this between his legs at the forefront of his mind, always.

Just as you lean in, when your soft lips trace over his rosy, swollen head, he pulls you back by plucking his hat from atop your head and throwing it to the side. He rests the cigar between the fingers of his free hand to free his mouth to speak to you.

“Need to see you while I fuck that pretty little moutha’ yours, angel…”

His words soak through you (and soak you through), and you just can’t wait a second longer, needy to have his cock deep down your throat, desperate for the burning of your lungs and the stinging in your eyes when he loses that control he so often vehemently clings to.

Unable to wait a second longer, you run your tongue from base to tip, feeling every vein pulsing under your muscle and eliciting a deep groan from Arthur. When you finally take him in your mouth, his hand reaches to cup your cheek, following you down as you take as much of him as you can.

“Fuck.” He groans, fingers reaching to tangle in your hair, scratching at your scalp. He’s probably louder than he should be, your eyes flickering to the general direction of the others as a warning, but they soon snap back to your cowboy, an intense eye contact burning at your skin as the head of his cock bumps the back of your throat. Arthur never takes his eyes off you, guiding you up and down his length and bringing the smoke to his lips. The tip of the cigar flares a deep, fiery orange, and smoke billows from his mouth with each laboured breath you coax from him. The way he’s sitting, fingers of one hand pulling at your hair, controlling your movements, and the other limply holding the smoke, he exudes a power many seek to master but never quite get. It makes your heart swell and your cunt throb for him, knowing on your knees before him is the only place you ever want to be, knowing only you inhabit it.

You can taste Arthur, his salty essence leaking from the pure ecstasy you’re providing and spit pools in your throat, mixing with it and dribbling down your chin. Arthur catches it with his thumb, guiding you off his cock to push the digit into your mouth and let you suckle from it. You do, hungrily, adjusting on your knees to better take Arthur deep down your throat and-

“Arthur! That you?”

Marston.

For eyes widen at each other, Arthur instinctively pushing you a little lower by your shoulder to keep you out of sight. John hasn’t seen you, and you’d like to keep it that way, being in the incriminating position you are between Arthur’s legs.

You spot the irritated sigh, the twitch of Arthur’s jaw as he plasters a fake friendliness onto his features and peers over the balcony to see his brother standing on the clearing below.

“Sure is. Whatchu’ want?”

Straight to the point.

“We didn’t hear you get back. How long’ve you been here?”

All that tension you’ve worked so hard to dissipate comes back to Arthur’s form with a crashing force. You can almost hear his plea for just one second a’ goddamn peace, merely by the way he sighs before answering.

“Not long, thought I’d try and sneak past you fools and get some shut eye.”

Subtle, cowboy.

Ever oblivious, or simply not caring, John continues, “How’d it go, then? You got the bastard?”

He has you pressed against his thigh to hide you from sight, cock standing to attention right beside your face. It’s too tempting, especially with a none the wiser Marston stood right below. When your tongue darts out, hovering above Arthur’s twitching, aching cock, his eyes flick down to you, warning residing deep in his eyes. You take it as less of a warning, more a challenge.

You wouldn’t.

Oh, but I would.

And you do. You lift up, just enough to fit the head of his throbbing cock past your lips and slide the whole length in. It bumps the back of your throat, but upon hearing Arthur’s strangled, poorly hidden groan, you can’t seem to stop yourself.

“Y-uh… Yeah, I got ‘em…”

It’s impressive, how he can just about hold a conversation despite his cock being so far down your throat his balls rest on your chin.

You can’t see John, but you can only imagine how his head must tilt and his brows must pull together at the strange response from Arthur.

“You alright, brother?”

He won’t be.

You blink up at Arthur, feigning an innocent, near angelic expression as you inhale through your nose and push him even further into you. You hum, low and quiet, letting the vibrations pass through him. Arthur whimpers, instantly knocking any and all sounds you’ve ever heard from top spot and replacing them as your favourite in the whole world.

“I-I’m fine. Just tired.” He tries to hint again, to no avail. His fingers are digging into your shoulder with a bruising force, that control slipping bit by bit with every passing second, every little movement. Tears prick at your eyes, that burning in your lungs you’ve been reaching for finally igniting. You’re stuffed with him, feeling so full that it’s hard to breathe. When you go to release him, to be able to gasp for precious air, you realise you can’t, Arthur’s huge hand holding you right in place with his palm flush against the back of your neck. Revenge.

“Where’s the Mrs?”

A raise of a brow. You’re not married, but everything is so naturally right between you and Arthur that the gang just seem to have defaulted to that. It makes you beam, wanting nothing more than to be this man’s wife, the kind of wife that makes him cum down your throat while he has a menial conversation.

“S-She’s- fuck…” When he grips harder at you, you gag around his length, tears now streaming down your cheeks and mixing with your spittle and the little bits of precum that leak out from Arthur. “She’s in bed. I-I better go check on her, a-actually.” He whimpers again, fingers now gripping into your hair to keep you in place. You’re not sure how much longer you can last like this, struggling to breathe, overflowing and, God, so wet for him.

John sounds unconvinced. You’d giggle, if you could.

“Alright… Well, g’night, brother.”

Arthur barely manages a grunt, and you can feel his thighs tensing and twitching from the sheer effort of not bucking his hips up into you and giving the pair of you away. He stills, most likely waiting for Marston to fuck off already, before he rips you away from him and pulls you to your feet, gripping your aching jaw with force enough force to keep it open.

“You goddamn siren.” He isn’t mad. He’s trying to be, but you know Arthur far too well, and he’s burning with a fire far hotter than mere anger. Need.

The mischievous glint in your eye is all you can offer for response, what with his iron grip on your face, but you do manage to slip your tongue out and lick the pad of his thumb, tasting the mixture of fluids still lingering.

It’s all getting too much, knowing what you just did and who you did it around, hearing Arthur unable to string a sentence together because of you. You don’t think you’ve ever been so turned on in your life, so desperate for a release that you’re pathetically writhing in Arthur’s hold. He notices, forced anger on his features replaced with a cockiness that only comes from knowing he’s regaining the power in the situation.

Your cheeks tingle when he releases you, sitting back in the seat and leaning back, one elbow resting on the arm of the old wooden chair and picking the cigar back up. God, you could ride him in that chair till morning, if you thought the wood wouldn’t splinter under the force.

“You gonna finish what you started, my little siren?” He asks, taking an especially long toke from the smoke while he waits for you to drop to your knees before him. Your cunt throbs, screaming out for his attention, but it would seem your antics have earned you punishment.

Your knees hit the wood with a force, though an involuntary whimper escapes you, hips grinding pathetically against nothing. Arthur notices, smirking like a goddamn cheshire cat at his little wanton whore.

“Patience, angel.” Your own words echo back to you like a slap in the face. You definitely deserve this.

The grip you had on the power in this game you’re playing with Arthur officially disappears when his hand snakes around the back of your neck, grasping at your hair and winding it around his wrist like a leash. You have to tilt your head so the tugging at your scalp is a mere burn rather than a sharp pain, but that’s just where he wants you.

“Now, little siren, I’m gonna teach ya’ some manners, and you’re gonna finish what you started, alright? And if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll think about getting that sweet little cunt of yours off…”

It’s all it takes, the promise of Arthur’s fingers deep inside you while he sucks on your clit just how you like it, lapping up your juices like a man starved, and the defiance in your eyes dissipates. Arthur bends you to his whim, messy, sloppy putty in his hands as he drags you onto his weeping cock. You’re all but drooling for him, leaking out of the corners of your mouth when he slips into you. Your scalp tingles with the pull, especially when Arthur involuntarily tightens his grip with a hiss of his breath. His tip bumps the back of your throat, but he doesn’t stop even when you’ve fit all of him in that you can.

“Fuck, good girl, just like that baby girl…” he groans, and when you open your eyes to look up to him, he is watching you with a gaze so intense you feel like it could tear you apart. The tension burns between you, coiling so tight the chirp of a nearby cricket could snap it.

There’s an unspoken question in your eyes when you start to nearly choke on his length of when you’ll be released, but his eyes darken, “Come on, baby, you can take more, can’t you?”

He seems to register your fear, but it phases him little. It seems more a challenge, really, coaxing him into rocking his hips into you, pushing you even further onto his cock until you feel it start to breach past your throat in a way you didn’t even know possible. You splutter, wriggling and writhing as you try your hardest to breathe through your nose.

“Shh… good girl,” he coos, a ravenous look taking over your usually so lovable cowboy. You’ve pushed him, and God do you live for it. “Not much further… wanna see you take all of my cock, alright? You gonna do that for me, angel?”

You can’t nod, but it isn’t much of a question, not much choice available with your limited movements and the way Arthur has completely commandeered your body. You’re irrevocably his, body and soul.

It doesn’t feel possible to fit more of him in, your throat burning for relief that won’t come until Arthur is satisfied, but when he bucks his hips into you, you feel his base press against your nose. He groans hard, the noise initially from the sensation of having your throat wrapped around his cock, but when he sees the sight of you, tear stained and gagging on him, the moan is pulled out into a noise of pure ecstasy.

“Good girl… my good fuckin’ girl.”

His thumb rubs lovingly over your wet cheek, a sensation you cling to as the corners of your vision get fuzzy. Fuck, you’re not sure how much longer you can hold out, but you’re so desperate to feel Arthur’s spend trickling down your throat, feel him lose control and moan just for you that you’d honestly be willing to die for it.

Your expression, complete with lust-fogged, watery eyes, and beautifully flushed skin, teases the last of Arthur’s restraint like a razor thin blade against that final thread. When it finally snaps, you’re allowed one gasp for air, before he’s thrusting back into you hard. You can feel him stiffen, even more so than before, as his hips splutter into your mouth and he starts to tumble over the precipice into that realm of pleasure that only the two of you share.

“F-Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna-” But he interrupts himself with a visceral, primal groan, the vibration of it shattering the both of you. You take advantage of his practically inebriated state to regain some of your own anatomy, managing to swirl your tongue around his pulsing head inside your mouth. The hot, salty spend blooms across your tongue at that, Arthur guiding you by the cheek to bob up and down on his cock while he paints your throat white. His moans are a melody you’ll never tire of, animalistic and vulnerable all the same.

It feels like it never stops, Arthur’s spend filling your mouth up and leaking out from the corners of your lip. You can hardly stay still, writhing your needy cunt against your own heel, desperate for a reward you’re earning when you look him in the eye and swallow it all down. Pride blooms across Arthur’s features, saturated with a love that warms you from the inside out. His thumb caresses your face softly, wiping the tear tracks as you finally release his cock from your mouth and he guides you to your feet, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then nose, then lips.

“My good girl…” He coos, barely above a whisper as you breathe each other in, both as breathless as the other. Your throat aches, your jaw burning, but you’d do it a thousand times over to experience what you just did all over again.

“Now…” He splits the sentence with another kiss, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Get on inside, sweetheart, I think you’ve earned yourself a reward.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redeption 2 #red dead 2

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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omg okay so today is like 4/20 so like dealer!polymarauders or dealer!remus getting super high with reader and ending up getting the muchies so they like eat reader out or fuck <33

my brain is so clouded w this thought i cannot argh

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+, minors dni.

The lesson you're learning tonight is that someone has to make sure the snack stash is properly stocked before anyone lights up. Only an hour into your smoke session, James had gotten the munchies, and you'd found only a dust patch where your collection of chips and candies had once been. You all reeked of weed, so sneaking off to the kitchens was a no-go.

James is a bright man, and he'd improvised. The remnants of his meal are still smeared over his chin, your release glistening against his skin, barely visible as he towers over you.

Your head is resting on the edge of his bed, Sirius and Remus's shoulders supporting your thighs as they huddle between them. They're feasting on James's leftovers, tongues eagerly lapping up any slick James had left behind after making you cum. They're desperate to lick up any new gushes that the swirling, suction-like motion of their tongues induce, and you're sure one single glance at the way they're devouring your cunt would make you cum on the spot.

Unfortunately, or very fortunately, you can't see them, because James's hips are in the way. He's standing right at the edge of his bed, straddling your face as his cock slides down your throat. After all, you've got the munchies too.

The position you're in will strain your muscles, you're sure of it, but you couldn't stop if you tried. Your hips buck into Remus and Sirius's faces, dragging your clit up to their noses as they groan gruffly into your cunt. Remus chases the sensitive bud, but Sirius stays below, tongue lapping just above your ass at the slick and spit that are beginning to drip down the curve of your flesh.

When Remus purses his lips around your clit, suckling lazily at the bundle of nerves, James strokes your cheek, wiping a gag-induced tear off of your skin.

Your hips jerk again and Sirius bites your thigh, "Stay still, pet."

"She can't help it," James drawls, rolling his hips further towards your face, cock stuffed that much more into your mouth, "Poor thing probably can't even breathe with my dick down her throat."

"She's wet," Remus gushes, tongue dipping once more below your clit to mesh with Sirius's as the two men drool into your cunt, "God, fuckin'- dripping, she's staining Sirius's pants."

"Nah," The man shakes his head, and he doesn't have to glance down at the wet spot on his jeans to know it's not your drool, "Came in m'pants, Moony. Couldn't help it, s'too good."

Remus reaches over to fit his hand over the stain, squeezing experimentally at Sirius's still-present bulge. The man lets out a groan and mashes his face into your cunt as a response, tongue driving you crazy as it presses into your cunt. Remus chuckles, turning his attention to Sirius and giving the man more room to devour your cunt, "Pants off, Pads, m'gettin' a new craving."

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thisreadswhatever · 6 months

Text

Only Mine: Part Two

find part one here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.2k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, smut and more smut. unprotected p in v sex, oral m receiving, some almost getting caught tropes (kinda) and just jax having his way with you

[authors note]: so I wasn’t planning on making this a two part series but here we are! this is basically just pure smut but I owed it to you guys after that cliffhanger. thank you again to THAT anon for the fantasy that inspired this second part! it was too good not to write.

Your hands dug into the front of his leather cutte, weaving your fingers in between the cotton of his shirt. The only sound was the roaring of the bike beneath you, and the wind as it thrashed your hair into chaos against your helmet. You weren’t sure where you were going, but at this point you didn’t care. You squeezed your arms as they wrapped snug around him, tightening as he sped faster into the unknown.

Chibs followed just behind. They had been on their way to a Mayan warehouse earlier that night, before Jax decided to make a detour when he saw your car parked at the bar. When it was clear they had to go, you had begged Jax to bring you along. To your surprise, you had somehow convinced him. His dick was clouding his judgement, but you were both desperate to find an end to what you had started in the backseat of your car.

They parked the bikes in the back of a desolate warehouse, alongside a large empty truck. The building was fenced in with metal chain links and surrounded by broken security lights. From what you could see through the darkness, it was completely deserted.

Jax approached Chib as he rocked the kickstand on his bike as you waited patiently alongside his.

“Bobby and Juice on their way to the Clubhouse?”

Chib’s placed his helmet on the bike, “aye. Everything according to plan.”

“Alright, let’s get this done.”

Chibs placed his hand on Jax’s chest, “ye sure about bringing her? Could be here awhile pal.”

He knew he was right, bringing you with them wasn’t the smartest decision Jax had made tonight. He lit a cigarette between his lips as he walked back to you, “Just a straight forward drop off, Chibs. Stash the shit and get in the truck.”

Jax pulled you into him by the waist as you fumbled to undo the clasp of your helmet. His mouth pressed firmly against you, kissing you intently as his hands held your face to his. He watched you for a brief moment under him, your eyes staring up at him as he held your lip between his teeth. He broke only to smile widely down at you as he spoke, “c’mon, I got an idea.”

“We’ll be inside.” he called out, collecting a black satchel from the back of his bike. Chibs didn’t respond, only chuckling to himself as he watched Jax lead you away. “Kids.”

He pulled you through the warehouse by hand, obviously familiar with the surroundings. The building was dimly lit by a single light that shined from the entrance, just enough that you could see your feet beneath you as you walked.

You didn’t ask questions, just followed as he weaved his way through a thick maze of tall empty shelving units. He gripped your hand tighter as he pulled you into a small room cordoned off in the back of the building, housing the now derelict security unit and remnants of old office supplies.

There was a large display window that overlooked the majority of the warehouse, which would’ve been used to watch the ongoings of the building when it was up and running.

“Wait here.”

You obeyed his order, sitting on an old computer console that towered from the floor. It was just large enough that you could sit with your legs bent alongside it, straddling it beneath you.

The distant light was too far to aid in your sight as you attempted to watch him through the display window. Jax disappeared into the darkness of the warehouse. You could hear the sound of a door opening and closing from the opposite end of the building.

It felt like he was gone for eternity as you sat in silence, waiting for his return.

Suddenly an external door into the office opened, making you jump, and Jax re-entered, this time empty handed as the satchel he carried in with him was gone. He locked the door behind him. He moved toward you, now standing with his waistline parallel to your face. He was looking out into the warehouse from the side of the display window. “Just gotta wait for the pick up and then we’re out of here.”

“How long will we be? This place gives me the creeps.”

“Shouldn’t be long. Then I’m taking you home. We got unfinished buisness of our own, darlin’.”

Jax laid his hands to your cheeks, cupping your face upward to look at him. His thumb stroked your skin gently, as he peered down at you with hungry, desperate eyes.

“How ‘bout you just swallow my cock now to pass the time.”

You chuckled at his adavance, raising your eyebrows at the suggestion. “Here? What if someone comes in?”

Jax lowered himself down, forcing your head to turn on its side, as his lips pressed to your ear. He spoke slowly, unravelling you with every word. “Let them watch. I don’t give a shit. Your instructions earlier were very clear darlin’, you told me to take what’s mine. I’m going to take you, here and now. I’m going to have you where I want you, when I want you. You are mine to take, however the fuck I want.”

You nodded as he turned your face to his, your eyelids batting against your cheeks that were smushed beneath his hands. His thumb found entry between your lips and you instinctively opened your mouth wide for him. He smiled contently at how quickly you obeyed his silent demand. You held your tongue out, and he grasped at your jaw in response, turning your head side to side as he observed every inch of your face. “You are so fucking perfect. So fucking mine.”

You had never wanted him more than you did in this moment. You were prepared to beg and plead on your knees for his cock, you would do anything for it, and he knew it.

“Fill my mouth, Jax. Please.”

He leaned down to you as he unclamped the buckle to his belt, smirking against your lips as he placed them on yours.

He released his long length against your face, and you immediately took it into your hands. His head fell back as you stroked him intently, pressing the tip of his cock against your lips. You planted small, wet kisses against his shaft, as your hands caressed his erection. Once you’d kissed every inch, you took him into your mouth, forcing him in deeper as you pulled him in you by his unbuttoned jeans.

He groaned at the sensation of your wet tongue, circling his length before you choked at the fullness of him inside your mouth. There was nothing quite like gagging on Jax’s cock.

“Look at me when you take me”, he demanded. Your eyes trailed up to him as you swallowed his cock, drool dripping from your chin and down your neck. Moans escaped his gritted teeth and his hands entangled in your hair, collecting the strands into a ponytail behind your head. He tugged at the root to push you in closer, as he used your mouth over and over again.

“Get on the floor.”

You knew better than to question the order. You did exactly what he said, laying against the cold concrete floor that laid beneath you. He stroked his length as he stood above you, instructing you on every move to make.

“Take off your shirt and lay down.”

Once you were half naked on the floor, Jax lowered himself into you. His cock pressed against your waist, as he pulled down your jeans and panties.

“Spread your legs wide for me.”

Jax didn’t wait any longer. He encapsulated himself into your mound, opening your wet folds as he thrusted into you. A gasp escaped your throat as he entered, relief filtering through every inch of your core.

“Oh you’re still fucking soaked for me, babe.”

You couldn’t help but whine at the immediate pressure building between your thighs, desperately trying to hush your voice. It was near impossible to keep from screaming as the heat from your groin was burning to be released. You’d waited for what felt like forever since Jax had you in the same position in the backseat of your car, and the anticipation of being relieved was a feeling you revelled in. He grabbed your throat with his hand as you laid beneath him, your ass crushing repeatedly into the cold tile as he pounded into you.

“Remember what I told you earlier? While my face was covered in this perfect pussy?”

You couldn’t respond, let alone think of anything that happened earlier tonight. You groaned out as the length of his cock engulfed your insides, and hearing him talk this way was sending you over the edge. How the hell were you supposed to think?

“What’s wrong, darlin’? Can’t remember?”

“I can’t think straight- like t-this, Jax,” you admitted. You were staring into his eyes as he pounded into you, fighting the need for yours to roll in the back of your head.

“Let me help you.”

He sat you upright, his dick still embedded in your mound, as he lifted your legs, bending them against him. He pulled at your ass, bringing himself even further inside, the feeling of fullness overwhelming you. Your back was now arched against him, giving him full access to your clit.

“Fuck- not helping-“, you cried.

His hands travelled from your ass to your cunt, circling his fingers over the swollen nub, while he fucked you into oblivion.

“Jax- oh my go-“

He smiled as he watched you lose yourself in your climax, succumbing to his cock. His head fell back in pure bliss as he felt your orgasm squeezing him.

“I told you, you’re mine.” His cock pushed further into you as his hand tightening around your neck, the skin turning a shade of red at the force.

Your head nodded violently, “I’m yours-“ you somehow managed to muster out, your voice cracking under the pressure of your orgasm and his hand around your throat.

Just as Jax was going to unravel with you, you were interrupted by the sound of the main entrance door opening, followed by footsteps. “Did you hear that?”, you whispered.

Jax leant backward enough for him to peer over the display window. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness to realise who the intruders were. It was Bobby and Juice.

“Is it Chibs? Do we need to go?”

Jax looked back down at you, sprawled half naked against the floor and completely, totally his. Seeing you this way, he couldn’t of cared who entered the warehouse, he was going to finish claiming you no matter who watched. He gleamed at the sight of your flushed pink cheeks and hair utterly strung awry, all the result of his doing. “Oh no, darlin’. I’m not finished with you yet.”

His cock found your entrance again, sliding into your dripping mound as he bit back a groan. “You feel so fucking good- taking me so well-“

You tried desperately to suppress your scream, failing as a squeal slipped through your lips.

Jax quickly placed his hand over your mouth, and you were thankful for the aid in silencing your whimpers. He roamed over your body and face, watching as pleas left your eyes, begging in desperation for another release. His lips pulled into a devilish smirk as he lowered himself completely into you, forcing his cock to push even deeper into your mound.

You groaned into his hand, his hips finding a way to submerge even further into your core. Jax was enjoying every moment of this, watching as your composure expired around his cock, while he never wavered, just holding himself there within you.

“You gotta be quiet for me now, darlin’,” he murmured slowly into your ear. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded at his request, struggling to move from the weight of his body pressing against you. His hand tightened around your mouth as tears began to stream from your eyes, overwhelmed by the urge to stay silent against the extreme fullness you were enduring.

The footsteps grew closer, as Jax pushed deeper and deeper into you with each thrust.

You could hear Bobby lowly calling out, “Jax, where you at?”

He ignored his calls, focused entirely on you beneath him. Nothing else mattered to him but the way you felt wrapped around his cock.

He was relentless, repeatedly finding a new depth with each thrust into you. His hand stayed out against your mouth, and you bit at the skin to suppress the groans that couldn’t be muffled. He quickened his pace, and your fingers squeezed at the leather of his cutte as you found your final climax. Jax hunched his back, bringing his face to yours as he found his release with you, filling your aching cunt with his seed.

When he recovered from his end, he began to trail plentiful kisses from your chest, and up your neck. He paused at your jawline as he pressed a tight smile against your skin, nibbling at the flesh.

“You’re only mine.”

find my masterlist here

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller fiction #jax teller smut #reads writes #sons of anarchy #soa #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #jax teller morrow #jax teller fic #jax teller boyfriend #jax x reader #jax teller imagine #jax teller dom #sons of anarchy smut #sons of anarchy one shot

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astralnymphh · 20 days

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Wait expanding on Ellie looking out for you but not for herself…thinking abt her sternly telling you to drink water as if she’s had anything but random sips of coffee throughout the day or reminding you to take your makeup off meanwhile she keeps getting distracted by random tasks and keeps procrastinating taking a shower…thinking many thoughts

♯.♱┆mhm, mhm, that is very ellie. I think ellie is so aware and acquainted with you being a welcomed presence in her space 24/7 that she has an eye on you— peripherally and straight-on. sat at a desk? glances here and there, sometimes a surprise kiss on the head for a bonus (checks to see if you're genuinely working on your coursework or not). taking a nap? preps a cup of water, switches the TV on for background noise (and for herself), covers you with a freshly laundered blanket, and lies near. stashes a mental checklist of certain things you have or haven't done, yet involuntarily disregards her own needs because you clog each pocket of her noggin known to craze over some fixation; such as a comic series, a video game, ideas on how to begin her latest pièce de résistance, or woodland muses that prance about the encompassing afternoon light and leap right into said pièce de résistance— but now, you've dethroned most fixations, and eclipsed an amassing portion of her life. routine dedication, she precautions; a human-sized, human-voiced, reminder alarm. like literally. "hey, did you wipe your makeup off?" but once she gets a good glimpse of your sleepy face in bed— stained by the remnants of makeup that managed to cling to your features– she just chuckles and gives you that "really?" expression, but it's delicate and kindhearted when her face wears it. "here— I kept a pack near, just because.." twists her head and reaches an arm to the nightstand nearest, hand then returning with a wipe softly clamped in two fingers and takes it upon herself to clean your eyelids first; pad of her thumb wrapped in the damp tissue lining a stroke along the bottom one. such a sweetheart, clad by such a focus-scrunched face whilst doing it, "it's okay, I got it. just means I get to look at your really, really pretty face longer before sleeping," piebald freckles tugging toward the center of her concentrated features, and lips softly hung in a grin. a steadying hand curls around the flank of your shoulder, just massaging; fingerprints soothing you in little circles. "ts' not like I don't when you are but— oh, I sound like a creep now, don't I?" her face awkwardly cringing a bit, prompting you to remind her, croaky-voiced, "you sound like my girlfriend who can't sleep at a proper time and spends it admiring her girlfriend with a healthy sleep schedule instead. nothing odd there." and ellie, mimicking a grinned offense, lets air spout against her shut teeth, "tch— you're the worst."

MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . READ THIS . PALESTINE MP

i would write out more scenarios but my cramps have a genuine chokehold on my uterus. (can add a large text document version if needed)

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magezy · 1 year

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Remnants of a Stash (Rogue 2/5)

A warlock rogue, this time! Including a little sneaky preview of some of the upcoming warlock subclasses I’ll be pushing out eventually (which includes a revamp of The Raven Queen UA warlock!)

#dnd #d&d #Dungeons and Dragons #5e #homebrew #my homebrew #subclass #rogue #stash remnants

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spockandawe · 1 month

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So. I know I just did a binding of The Disabled Tyrant's Pet Palm Fish, but that was a lectern book, and it's been tough to get a lectern binding that I'm completely and unreservedly happy with. If more practice is what it takes, then I'm game! But in the meantime.... this is the fish book. The romancing a fish book. The impatiently waiting for a fish demon to..... devour my essence book. The 'my servant thinks I'm fucking my fish' book. The fishpreg book. The fish themed wedding book. What, was I supposed to NOT use my exciting new fish leather??

Now, the struggle with fish leather is thst it comes in very irregular oval-y shapes. I wanted the spine to have the right weight, so I cut the biggest rectangle I could wrangle from the hide, and belatedly realized my remnants weren't large enough to get good corner pieces. So that's something to consider in the future! But despite that, the fish handled like a dream, the gold and brown aligned BEAUTIFULLY with a wave fabric I had in my stash, and I shamelessly went back to the scale themed endpaper well. I usually don't like repeating myself so quickly, but I had a lot of fun designing this typeset, and this story is just a delight on every level!

#crafts #bookbinding #binderary #the disabled tyrant's pet palm fish #the disabled tyrant's beloved pet fish #dtppf #ahhhh should i go back and align my tags with the new title #question for future spock #dtppf is an acronym with such good rhythm #dtbpf hits different #either way im delighted to compare the new translation to the old one!

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 7 months

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pairing: wanda maximoff x scarlet witch

summary: wanda meets herself while opening a portal for another bottle of wine, decides "fuck it" and has sex with her other multiversal self

content warnings: wanda fucking herself, and then being fucked... by herself. cunnilingus, fingering, restraints, nipple clamps, vibrator, strap-on sex, mirror sex, subtle choking, begging, overstimulation

word count: 10.6k+

this was requested by a lovely anon!

masterlist

Seeing Double

The walls flicker, the flashing scenes on the television spreading across the room, creating a harsh shadow on the figure seated on the couch. The sounds of nonsensical chattering from the characters on screen fill the silent room, a theme song ringing out as another episode starts playing.

Long fingers reach for the empty glass sitting on the coffee table, grazing the cup before reaching past it and grabbing the wine bottle directly. A few swallows later and Wanda finishes the entire bottle, staring down at it as she processes. The last remnants of the slightly sugary wine slide down her throat, warming her belly as she unfurls her magic throughout the house.

Green eyes turn scarlet as wisps of magic search the different cabinets of the small kitchen. They wrap around each shelf, and Wanda lets a small frown onto her face when she realizes that she’d gone through her last bottle of wine. She calls her magic back, admiring the way it twists around her fingers as she sinks further into the couch.

Picking at a loose thread on her sweater, she realizes that she’s wearing her old Avengers crewneck. Wanda lets the wine bottle slip from her fingers as she remembers the day she received it. Natasha had been the one to give it to her, presenting it all nice and folded and giving her a rare smile. She’d finally understood what it meant to have a team, to have a family, and Wanda blinks when realizes that she’s smiling slightly as she reminisces.

Shaking those melancholic thoughts away, Wanda feels the wine she’d consumed spread throughout her body, warming her up to the very tips of her fingers. It was rather unfortunate that she’d finished that wine, it was one-of-a-kind. Thor himself had brought it to her, after Vision had died, saying something about celebrating life as she’d taken the bottle with trembling hands. She’d stashed it deep in her cellar, behind some random boxes, but had recently found it and decided, why not?

In her tipsy state, Wanda let her magic roam freely, taking a deep breath as the restricting feeling of reigning in her magic disappeared. She sends out a mental apology to Stephen, knowing that she was breaking his strict rules about her magic use.

Honestly, you try to take power from one teenage girl, and all of a sudden you’re a villain?

Wanda scoffs to herself, absentmindedly opening a portal in search of some more wine. Preferably something strong enough to send her to bed early, as the night was still young and her thoughts too raw to handle. She searches for a few moments, before a tug at her magic causes her to halt.

Pausing, Wanda forces herself to focus as she feels yet another tug at her magic. It felt almost… familiar? Her brows furrow, her back straightening as she sits up on the couch, watching the portal spark in front of her.

It seemed to be leading into a kitchen of some sorts, one that looked well decorated, similar to her own, yet significantly larger. Wanda tilts her head, feeling that same strong sensation pull at her magic, something soft yet commanding. She narrows her eyes, finally pinpointing the strand of her magic that was connected to the familiar pull, and tugs.

Something in the portal shifted, and Wanda tenses in anticipation, her heart thudding as her gaze sharpens. A figure moves closer, and Wanda’s eyes meet a very familiar pair of green eyes as a woman walks through the portal. With an absentminded flick of her fingers, the strange woman closes the portal, and Wanda feels yet another tug at her magic.

“Who…?” The words die in Wanda’s throat as the woman turns to face her head-on.

No fucking way.

Wanda feels as though she is trapped in a trance, her eyes raking over the other woman standing in her living room. It was like looking into a mirror, except this version of her had brown hair, and not quite as many wrinkles around her eyes. She is wearing a similar crewneck, hers a faded green color, instead of the red one currently hugging Wanda’s frame.

The only thought running through Wanda’s slightly-tipsy, definitely-not-thinking-clearly brain was that the other woman looked rather hot. One might even say, stunning. She couldn’t help staring at the woman’s chest, having seen that chest in the mirror a thousand times. Except, it was different somehow, seeing her chest on another person.

Fuck, was she attracted to this?

“Hi,” The smooth voice startles Wanda out of whatever trance she’s lost herself in, and she hurriedly moves her eyes away from the other woman’s chest, meeting sparkling green eyes. The shade was familiar, and Wanda couldn't help but match the soft smile the other woman wore.

Those green eyes slowly trace a path down Wanda’s body, leaving trails of fire that ricochet under her skin. She squirms, feeling slightly hot all of a sudden, unused to someone's attention being solely focused on her.

“I apologize,” The woman starts, holding up her hand. In it, is a bottle of wine, and Wanda feels her eyes light up as she subconsciously uses her magic to bring another glass over. “You must be wondering who I am.”

Wanda snorts, feeling her limbs loosen as she slides the glasses over towards her counterpart. “I think I have a pretty good idea who you are.”

Pointedly looking the other woman up and down, Wanda matches the smirk on the brunette’s face, before blinking at the absurdity of her own face staring back at her. She watches her grab the glasses, her long fingers wrapping around the stem as a wisp of scarlet magic pops the cork off of the wine she’d brought.

“Well,” The woman begins, pouring two glasses. The wine is dark, and Wanda couldn’t wait to have a taste, her tongue quickly swiping over her bottom lip. “My name is Wanda, but you knew that already.”

She pauses, taking a step closer to Wanda, who fidgets slightly on the couch. Handing her one of the now-filled glasses of wine, the brunette feels her counterpart's soft fingers graze her own as she accepts the glass. A spark runs down both their arms, and they both raise their eyebrows at the same time, the movement mirrored exactly on the other’s face in a slightly eerie fashion.

“I heard your call, although it rather felt like a strong tug on my magic.” The other Wanda begins, sitting down next to Wanda. She tries not to think about how their legs brush, the heat of the other woman’s thigh sending a different kind of heat racing towards her core.

The other woman shifts again, and Wanda belatedly realizes that her eyes are locked on the same lips as her own. She’d never noticed just how kissable they seemed, it seemed that this night was full of self discovery and pleasant surprises.

At the sound of a throat clearing, Wanda snaps out of her daze, her eyes locking with a matching pair of green ones. A familiar looking smirk plays on her counterpart's lips, and Wanda blinks rapidly as she distracts herself by sipping from her glass.

The wine tastes smooth, rich but not too heavy. Wanda feels her eyebrows steadily rising as she savored the taste of her first sip. She pointedly avoids eye contact with the other woman, feeling slightly intimidated by this other version of herself. She seems a lot more confident in herself, all grace and power with each movement, and Wanda tries not to think about the old crewneck she was wearing, or the comfortable joggers she wears that brush gently against the other woman’s expensive looking slacks.

“Good?” The voice is low, and Wanda can hear traces of her own Sokovian accent as the woman speaks.

Strengthening her resolve, Wanda raises her eyes, feeling as though she was having a slightly out-of-body experience as she meets those eyes. The same ones that look back at her when she dared look in a mirror, green and tired. So very tired, but still sparkling. She wonders what the other version of herself had been through.

“Yes, thank you.” Wanda falters then, not quite knowing what to say. Her counterpart also looks at quite a loss for words, but stretches out slightly on the couch, her posture relaxed. Her arm reaches out, her fingers tentatively splaying on Wanda’s forearm as her eyes search the other’s for permission.

Wanda licks her lips, tasting the remnants of her last sip of wine, before taking a bigger gulp and leaning fully towards the other woman. She smiles, but just with her eyes, her lips parted slightly as she felt her heart race. Fuck, she was actually really attractive. She wonders if her counterpart was different from herself, or if she just didn’t see her own body the way she was seeing it now.

Shaking her head, Wanda brushes the confusion aside, wanting to focus solely on her counterpart. The other woman rests her own glass on her thigh, her hand firmer against Wanda’s forearm as her fingers trace nonsensical patterns into the soft fabric. Her eyes seem slightly unfocused, an adorable crinkle between her eyebrows as she slides her gaze over Wanda’s form.

“So,” Wanda begins, feeling her nerves start to dissipate at the soft glow in her counterpart’s eyes. She leans in, putting her own hand against the other woman’s shoulder, feeling grounded slightly at her other self’s solid form beneath her fingertips. “Tell me all about your timeline, and I’ll share about mine?”

They share a smile, and Wanda relaxes fully as her counterpart begins speaking. She enjoys the sound of her voice, similar to her own but lower, with a slightly raspy undertone. She resolves to practice that voice later, when nobody can hear her. For now, she’s content to listen and learn about the other Wanda’s timeline.

—

‘Holy shit, I’m actually really cool.’

Wanda’s glass is empty, her other self’s glass having been discarded to the floor a long time ago. They’re seated so close to each other that an outsider would have called it cuddling, their hands wandering over each other absentmindedly as they speak. It was nice, having someone touch her, even if it was just gentle fingers tracing every inch of her as eyes filled with wonder take her in.

A hand makes its way around her waist, tracing the gentle curve there as Wanda watches those green eyes linger around the waistband of her joggers. A few fingers slip softly under the slight crop of her crewneck, warm against her skin, and Wanda feels herself flush under the sudden intense focus.

Suddenly needing a distraction, Wanda clears her throat, feeling as though a spotlight was thrust upon her when the other woman’s dark green eyes snap towards hers. “So, I don’t really know what to call you…”

Trailing off, Wanda watches her counterpart tilt her head, a look of confusion in her eyes.

“Just call me my name.” The woman says, and holy fuck that demanding tone did something to Wanda. Her gaze is stifling, her eyes hot as she watches Wanda open her mouth a few times, her fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles against the soft skin of her waist.

“But… I’m Wanda.” She knows her voice has a slight whine to it, but Wanda can’t bring herself to care. Her brain is starting to hurt, the lines blurring slightly in her mind as she attempts to categorize herself and the other version of herself that stepped through her portal.

Firm fingers stroke her cheek, resting on her temple as Wanda’s brain halts at the touch. The other woman watches her, feeling Wanda’s breaths slow down as her green eyes start to look less panicked. “You can call me…” She thinks for a moment, her eyes unfocusing as she looks somewhere over Wanda’s left shoulder.

“Scarlet?” Wanda’s voice is soft, a single eyebrow raised as she waits for a response.

“Because I’m the truest version of the Scarlet Witch?” The other woman’s tone is dry, her eyebrows raised in an unimpressed manner as she watches Wanda’s expression mirror her own. “How original.”

Gently shoving at the hand still pressed against her cheek, Wanda lets a small smile onto her lips as she looks around for her glass of wine. Scarlet stretches, her hand still wrapped around Wanda’s waist, her fingers twitching as she lets out a large sigh. Wanda tries to ignore the slight blush she knows is creeping up onto her face, and picks up the now-empty bottle of wine.

Raising the bottle up so Scarlet can see, she lets it dangle loosely from her fingers before she drops it back onto the floor. Green eyes find hers, and Wanda decides that she will not lose whatever game they’re playing. This is her own fucking universe, she will not be bested at mere flirting.

Reaching a hand out as casually as she can, Wanda tucks some of the silky, reddish-brown hair behind Scarlet’s ear, smirking when she sees the slight flush in the tips of her ears. Pietro had always made fun of her for that, telling her that her blush always started in her ears. It was nice to see that didn’t change even in other universes.

They sit in the moment for a beat, before Scarlet’s eyes light up, and Wanda can’t remember the last time she saw such an excited expression on her own face. It was refreshing to see. The woman turns to her, her fingers wrapping around Wanda’s wrists in excitement as she pulls her into a standing position.

“Let’s go out. It’s a big city right? There must be something we can do for fun.” Her voice is still deep, her tone raspier than ever as her accent bleeds through, and Wanda doesn’t think she’s ever heard a lovelier sound.

“I don’t have many outfits for a night out,” Wanda’s tone is regretful, as images of dancing in some dark club flash through her mind. She finds herself wishing that she could spend more time with… herself? What an interesting thought.

A chuckle sounds out, and Wanda huffs slightly as Scarlet grips her forearms for support as she laughs. She shifts her weight, leaning on one hip as she raises a single eyebrow, waiting for the other woman to cease her laughter.

“Darling,” Wanda flushes at the nickname. “We’re the Scarlet Witch, we have magic.”

The dots connect, and Wanda lets an upside-down grin onto her face as she shakes her head. Of course, how could she have forgotten? Magic was what got her into this situation in the first place, not that she was complaining. Scarlet’s green eyes meet hers, sparkling with laughter, and Wanda rolls her eyes slightly as she twists her fingers.

Scarlet tendrils erupt around them as Wanda changes their outfits, Scarlet closing her eyes at the feel of familiar magic brushing her skin. She opens them after the tendrils dissipate, looking down at herself briefly before taking in Wanda. Her eyes widen fractionally, and she feels her next breath shake slightly as she takes in the short hemline of the dress Wanda wore.

Looking down, she realizes that she is dressed in a similar fashion, except her dress is longer, with a slit running up one of the sides. Wanda’s eyes are hot and locked on that small strip of skin, following the slit as high as it would go before she seems to shake herself out of a daze.

Smirking, Wanda finds her own expression mirrored on Scarlet’s face. She doesn’t think she will ever get used to that. Reaching out a hand, she lets herself enjoy the feeling of Scarlet’s waist as she pulls her close, not minding when the woman’s hand rests dangerously low on her back. She leans in, a teasing smile on her lips as red tendrils erupt around them, creating a portal.

“How do you feel about clubbing?”

—

Wanda can’t remember the last time she had gone out drinking, let alone clubbing. It was probably back before her Avenger days, when Pietro would sneak them into a dingy club and steal some alcohol before twirling her around and making her forget about their lives, even if just for a moment. The security in Sakovian nightclubs was minimal, and Wanda smiles fondly at the memory as she and Scarlet step into the crowded room.

Bodies swarm around them, hands flying through the air as the music swirled around the mass of people. Different colored lights flash, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat soaked skin. Wanda feels happier than she has in the past year, and her eyes sparkle as she pulls Scarlet close and makes her way towards the bar.

“What’s your favorite drink?” The words are yelled into Scarlet’s ear, and the woman just stares in confusion, her head tilting slightly. Wanda rolls her eyes, realizing that the woman probably can’t hear her over the thumping beat and blaring music.

Pulling Scarlet in by the waist, Wanda smirks at the way those green eyes flick down to her lips before she moves those lips directly next to the woman’s ear. “I asked, what’s your favorite drink?”

Wanda doesn’t have to yell as loud this time, and she feels Scarlet’s lips graze her neck slightly before she gets a response. She shudders, almost missing the drink order, and judging by the way Scarlet was smirking at her, the woman had definitely felt her reaction.

Pulling away, Wanda subtly uses her magic to keep the swarms of people away from them as she orders two drinks. The bartender looks slightly confused, glancing between them briefly before he seems to shrug, making their drinks in record time as he nods towards another drunk man screaming his order.

Scarlet pulls incessantly at Wanda’s waist, her fingers firm as she leads them away from the over-crowded bar. Wanda tries not to think too hard about the pleasurable heat spreading from that point of contact, but can’t help the way her body presses slightly against Scarlet’s as they lean against a wall.

A glass of some red colored drink is raised to Scarlet’s lips, and Wanda lets her eyes rest on them as they greedily swallow the contents. She feels almost as if she were in a trace, Scarlet’s hand dancing along the hem of her dress as her tongue slowly runs over her bottom lip. She seems to savor the taste, and Wanda slowly raises her own glass, a spike of pride racing through her when Scarlet’s green eyes lock on the way the rim of her cup rests against her lips.

Taking a sip, Wanda’s eyes shoot up in surprise at the sweet cherry flavor. She licks her lips, smiling slightly as she feels Scarlet’s breath hitch, her chest rising rapidly as her eyes flick upwards. Wanda steps in closer, feeling Scarlet’s hand wrap firmly around her waist, pressing their bodies together. She leisurely finishes the rest of her drink, before gently pressing her thigh against Scarlet’s pelvis and feeling herself throb at the woman’s low moan.

“Time to dance.” Wanda murmurs, and she feels Scarlet’s fingers flex slightly as she attempts to keep their bodies pressed together. Feeling a spike of pleasure run through her at the way the other woman’s hips roll slightly against her leg, Wanda reluctantly tears herself away. She slips a soft hand into Scarlet’s slightly callused one, and pulls her towards the center of the club.

Setting their empty glasses down, Wanda turns to face Scarlet, the woman already pulling her close again. The hands around her waist feel hot, and Wanda has to hold in a whimper when those long fingers splay out across her lower back, pressing their bodies together once again.

“Turn around for me.” The words are low, and Wanda blames the red-hot flush to her cheeks on the alcohol she’d just gulped down. Scarlet’s eyes are intense, the green almost viridescent as her pupils dilate slightly.

Nodding slightly, Wanda bites her lower lip nervously, smiling when Scarlet's eyes drop to it. She turns around, her hands coming to rest on top of the ones around her waist. She feels Scarlet’s pelvis press against her, and she experimentally rolls her own hips backwards, reveling in the low groan the other woman lets out. She feels small puffs of air against her neck, and uses one of her hands to move her hair out of the way, tilting her head slightly to give the other woman access.

At the feeling of Scarlet’s soft lips against the sensitive skin of her neck, Wanda’s breath hitches. The soft kisses quickly morph into wet, hot hickeys that turn her pale skin red. Wanda dances to the music, feeling the alcohol take over her mind as she’s thrust into a fuzzy headspace. Her movements feel fluid, and she feels like she can finally breathe properly, sucking in the humid air of the club, the scent of alcohol mixing with a very familiar vanilla perfume.

Letting one of her hands wander upwards, Wanda buries it in the soft hair of the woman behind her, tugging slightly as she tilts her face towards her. She feels her lips detach, the warm air of the club hitting her dampened skin as she turns towards Scarlet.

Pressing her lips against the other woman’s feels like coming home. They feel impossibly soft and urgent against her own as they sway to the beat and press their scantily clad bodies together. Wanda feels her dress riding up slightly, Scarlet’s hand insistent against the bare skin of her upper thigh. She lets her own hand drift from the woman’s hair downwards, resting it against her throat as she silently asks for permission.

Scarlet pulls away, her eyes dark as she slowly moves them towards the backrooms of the club. Upon reaching the doorway, she pushes through, pressing Wanda’s body against the wall of a dimly lit hallway as the door shuts solidly behind them. It was quieter here, more intimate somehow as the thumping music dampened behind the solid wood of the door.

Two pairs of green eyes stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Wanda flexes her hand slightly, pressing softly against Scarlet’s throat, and smiles when she feels the woman’s breath hitch beneath her hand.

She squeezes. Scarlet moans, and Wanda feels something almost animalistic take over her.

Pulling the woman closer by her throat, Wanda crashes their lips together, feeling the desperate fingers against her waist squeezing tightly. Scarlet’s entire body is flush against hers, and their chests rise and fall in sync as they fight for dominance. Wanda’s other hand is pinned to the wall, her other squeezing tightly on the sides of Scarlet’s neck as the woman gasps into her mouth. Scarlet manages to maneuver her thigh between Wanda’s legs, and upon feeling the sturdy muscles against her aching core, Wanda moans freely into the other woman’s mouth.

The sound of Wanda’s breathy moan snaps something inside Scarlet, and she pulls away to look directly into the other woman’s eyes. Her pupils are blown, the faintest bits of green around them as Wanda stares back with wide eyes and swollen lips.

“Portal us back.” Scarlet manages to get out, grinding her hips slightly against Wanda’s pelvis, needing to feel some sort of relief. “I want you.”

Wanda smirks at the desperate note in the other woman’s voice. Who knew that hearing your own voice pleading and whining was so attractive? Scarlet lets out a choked noise from the back of her throat, her hips jerking as Wanda’s hand squeezes tightly in warning.

“You want me?” Wanda makes her voice low, letting her accent wrap around the words as Scarlet’s eyes close briefly. “Are you sure it’s just that?”

Tilting her head, Wanda waits for a response. The other woman seems to be grounding herself, her hips slowing as she trails her hands up Wanda’s body, resting them just beneath her breasts as she opens her eyes.

“I need you.” She practically purrs, her voice raspy and her eyes narrowed. Wanda blinks, the words sending her further into the haze taking over her brain. She feels Scarlet’s fingers ghost the underside of her breasts, the barest sensation sending bolts of pleasure shooting towards her throbbing clit. Her whole body feels like it's on fire, and she nods quickly as Scarlet sends her a familiar smirk.

“My place.” Scarlet’s words are demanding, and Wanda starts to nod before her eyebrows thread together in confusion.

Upon seeing Wanda’s expression, Scarlet clarifies, “If I’m going to fuck you, darling, I’m going to do it right.” She leaned in, letting her tongue softly trail up Wanda’s neck as the woman shudders beneath her. “You can’t even begin to imagine the special types of toys I own.”

“Stephen will be upset,” Wanda protests, and Scarlet rolls her eyes as she remembers the pitiful restrictions put on her.

“Fine.” Scarlet reluctantly removes her hands from Wanda’s soft body, licking her lips before twisting her fingers and opening a portal in the narrow hallway. Green eyes peer around excitedly as Scarlet pulls her through the scarlet tendrils opening the multiverse.

Wanda feels the incessant squeezing of Scarlet’s fingers against her waist, her eyes glued to the strip of skin where her dress is riding up her thighs. She lets her own gaze wander down to the faint bruises around Scarlet’s neck, her lips turning up as she spots the bed behind her.

Pushing backwards, Wanda presses her body fully against the other woman’s warm figure. Her eyes take in the dark bedroom, her fingers grasping the woman’s shoulders tightly. Pushing gently, she smiles at Scarlet's gasp when the back of her knees hit the bed, and pushes her into a seated position.

“You seem really desperate, I can smell your arousal.” The words make their way into Scarlet’s brain, the desperate aching of her core clouding her senses as she feels Wanda’s presence overtake her. She grips the dark comforter below her, her knuckles whitening almost instantly, spreading her legs slightly as her hips roll eagerly.

“Let me help with that.” Wanda whispers, before slowly dragging her tongue down Scarlet’s neck and kneeling before her. Her hands wander from the woman’s breasts and over her taut stomach, nails scratching slightly over the muscles she knows are hidden beneath her dress.

Twisting her fingers, Wanda watches with wide eyes as the conjured dress disappears. Her gaze roams over Scarlet's body, a voice in the back of her mind telling her that this is also her body. Fuck, Scarlet was attractive. Was she also this hot?

“You’re beautiful.” The words are soft, and Wanda looks up quickly, her eyes shining in the low lighting of the room. Scarlet has a knowing smile on her face, and she twists her fingers slightly as she reminds Wanda that they share the same magic. The same mind reading powers, too.

“Oh, I…” Wanda doesn’t quite know what to say, and Scarlet seems to understand. She reaches out, her fingers ghosting over Wanda’s cheek as she moves her hand into the woman’s scarlet hair.

“You look so pretty on your knees for me.” Scarlet’s words flow between them, and Wanda licks her lips as she lets her eyes drop back to the rapidly forming damp spot in the woman’s underwear. She feels her face burning, certain that a blush is spreading across her cheeks at the praise.

Choosing to forgo words altogether, Wanda allows her head to be pulled closer to Scarlet’s core, the smell of her dripping arousal hitting her nose and filling her senses. She tentatively flattens her tongue, licking a long stripe over the woman’s soaked underwear.

Fuck.

Wanda doesn’t think she’s ever tasted anything as sweet as Scarlet before. She doesn’t think she’s ever heard such pretty sounds, breathy moans leaving those sinful lips and shooting straight to her core.

“God, you’re so needy.” Wanda murmurs, her lips teasing against the woman’s underwear. She has her hands pressed tightly against Scarlet’s hips, attempting to still them as she places feather light kisses against the damp fabric.

A broken whine leaves Scarlet's throat, and Wanda feels her own arousal dampen her already-soaked underwear. The long fingers in her hair tighten, and Wanda has to stop a moan from leaving her lips. Scarlet’s next words are whined and desperate. “Please, stop teasing.”

The sound of Scarlet’s soft voice sends white hot pleasure racing through Wanda’s body. And really, who is she to deny herself?

Twisting her fingers, scarlet wisps appear and dissolve the thin fabric barrier between Wanda’s lips and Scarlet's glistening pussy. At the first stroke of her tongue, Wanda is hooked. She moves her arms under the woman’s trembling thighs, swapping her tongue through the slick arousal and savoring the taste. At the feeling of Scarlet’s clit throbbing beneath her tongue, Wanda flicks it experimentally. Scarlet’s hand tightens painfully in her hair, her hips grinding against her face.

Wanda moans, the vibrations sending acute pleasure through Scarlet’s aching clit. She tries to stop her hips from moving too much, but can’t help the way they move as Wanda begins licking and sucking with earnestness.

The vigor in which Wanda eats her out nearly sends Scarlet over the edge. Almost as if Wanda can sense this, she pulls away briefly while Scarlet’s hips stutter against her tongue. “Grind harder against my face, it's okay. I want you to.”

Scarlet looks down at her, having thrown her head back at some point. Wanda’s glassy eyes are staring back up at her, wide and dark as her tongue teasingly swipes through her folds. She creates a suction with her lips, wrapping them around her clit as her tongue flicks quickly against it. She jerks her hips, whimpering as she holds herself back from grinding all over Wanda’s pretty face, and the redhead pulls away once more.

“Do whatever you want to make yourself come, I can take it.” Wanda’s words are firm, her eyes honest. Scarlet nods, her breath feeling ragged as a moan rips through her throat when Wanda’s hot mouth resumes its ministrations. She feels the wet muscle of her tongue flicking quickly against her clit, her lips creating a delicious suction that sends her hurtling towards an orgasm.

Using both hands to grip Wanda’s hair, Scarlet pulls her face flush against her core, grinding her hips against her chin as her back hits the bed. She can feel her thighs closing, the pressure building as her legs lock around Wanda’s head. The vibrations from Wanda’s moans only add fuel to the fire of her rising arousal, and Scarlet finally falls over the long-awaited edge.

When she comes, it's almost violent. Her thighs squeeze tightly around Wanda’s head, her fingers seizing painfully as they tangle with locks of red hair. Her hips jerk and stutter, waves of arousal coating the smooth skin of Wanda’s face as she releases the overstimulating suction of her lips. Scarlet’s chest rises and falls rapidly, her muscles turning to goo as she relaxes against the mattress, a slow smile spreading on her face.

“That good, huh?” A smug voice sounds, and Scarlet can barely hear it over the pleasant ringing in her ears. She feels strong hands spread her thighs apart, a gentle tongue licking her clean while avoiding her still-sensitive clit. She thinks she could cry from the softness of it all, and finally regains her senses when Wanda begins stroking her face with featherlight fingers.

“Yes,” Scarlet begins, grabbing one of Wanda’s hands and kissing it softly, maintaining eye contact with the other woman as her eyebrows raise in surprise. “You are very good, Wanda.”

Green eyes soften slightly, and Scarlet sits up, feeling her strength return as she takes in the state of the woman standing before her. The bottom half of Wanda’s face is absolutely coated with her juices, the slick arousal shining as she takes the back of her hand and swipes it away. Her lips are swollen, and Scarlet has the strongest urge to kiss them.

So, she does.

Pulling Wanda in, she sucks her bottom lips between her teeth, reveling in the surprised gasp that the redhead lets out. Twisting her fingers, Scarlet removes the rest of Wanda’s clothing, feeling goosebumps erupt on her soft skin as she traces a hand down her spine.

“Kneel on the bed for me, alright?” Scarlet whispers, pulling away and placing a firm hand against Wanda’s sternum when she tries to chase her lips. She waits until Wanda has positioned herself in the center of the bed, resting on her knees. She gives her a quick peck on the lips as a reward, grabbing her wrists and holding them against her thighs with a silent command to keep them there.

Standing, Scarlet takes in the steady rise and fall of Wanda’s perfect chest, feeling quite conceited as she does so. After all, it was practically the same chest as hers. But, semantics. With a smirk, Scarlet makes her way towards the walk-in closet, her voice teasing as she throws a few words over her shoulder, “It’s my turn to make you feel good.”

Knowing that Wanda wouldn’t move an inch, Scarlet takes her time in gathering the few items she needs. By the time she walks back into the bedroom, she knows that Wanda is practically dripping with need, the anticipation driving her practically insane.

“We’re the same, you know.” Scarlet begins, purposefully lowering her voice and letting her accent bleed through. She loves the way Wanda shudders whenever she speaks, the slight power she holds over the redhead shooting straight to her core.

Scarlet lays the items out on the bed in front of Wanda, relishing in the way her eyes widen as they roam over the few toys she’d selected. She chooses to ignore the toys, for now. Instead, she makes her way behind Wanda’s kneeling form, grazing her fingers across the tops of her thighs and over her arms, resting them on her lower back before trailing them up her spine.

Grabbing her hair gently, Scarlet maneuvers Wanda’s head to the side, tilting it slightly as she lets her lips graze where her neck meets her collarbone. “We both have this specific spot on our neck that drives us crazy.”

Wanda lets out a low noise, leaning back as Scarlet shuffles closer until her front is flush against the other woman’s back. She grazes her teeth gently against the very spot she’d been talking about, and feels her own arousal rise again at the soft sounds Wanda is making. She places her lips against the spot, leaving hot, openmouthed kisses against it as Wanda squirms.

Fingers twitch against her thighs, and Scarlet has to commend the redhead for staying still. She knows just how desperate she gets whenever someone teases that spot on her neck, and decides to reward Wanda.

Sinking her teeth in, Scarlet smiles at the drawn out moan that escapes those swollen lips, Wanda’s head dropping back against her shoulder as she sucks a dark hickey into her neck. Once she’s sure that the redhead is properly distracted, she lets her hands slowly make their way from her waist to her breasts.

Detaching her lips, and chuckling at the high whine that Wanda lets out, Scarlet moves her fingers until they gently graze the woman’s hardened nipples. Wanda’s body jolts, and her eyes close when Scarlet’s mouth returns to her ear. “And most importantly, our nipples are sensative as fuck.”

Wanda moans freely at that, the sounds becoming more high pitched and breathy when Scarlet’s nimble fingers begin twisting and pinching her nipples. Her body presses further against the woman behind her, leaning against her for support as her hips rut helplessly into the air.

“So desperate for me,” Scarlet’s voice is in her ear again, and Wanda thinks she might come just from the sound of it. Then, she feels those soft lips and talented tongue stimulate that spot on her neck, and she practically melts against the woman behind her.

Rolling her hips, Wanda presses herself against the woman behind her, wanting… no, needing Scarlet to stimulate her soon. The growing pressure was quickly becoming unbearable, and the added sensations from those talented fingers against her breasts was causing her to pant and moan in a very undignified manner.

“Please,” Wanda begins, before quickly closing her mouth at Scarlet's low chuckle against her neck.

“Begging already?” Her hands disappear from her breasts, one moving down towards her thighs while the other trails up towards her neck. “How pathetic, I haven’t even properly touched you yet.”

A firm hand wraps around Wanda’s throat, and her eyes roll backwards. She’s truly never felt this many sensations before, and she’s definitely never begged for anything. Of course it would only be a version of herself that manages to reduce her to a submissive puddle of need.

Scarlet wisps emerge from the hand near her thighs, and Wanda watches as they float teasingly towards one of the objects spread before her on the bed. She bites back a whimper at the chosen object, hearing the delicate metal chain clink softly as it's dropped into Scarlet’s waiting hand.

“I can tell by your reaction that you’ve experienced the wonderful pleasure that nipple clamps have to offer.” Scarlet’s voice holds a teasing tone, and Wanda presses her lips together and nods.

“Really… with who?” The question hangs in the air, and Wanda swallows the thick embarrassment in her throat as she tries to form some words. The woman behind her lets out a soft sigh, before taking mercy on the flustered redhead.

“For me, it was Natasha that introduced me to the kinkier side of sex.” Scarlet sounds almost wistful, and Wanda twists her head in surprise.

“Natasha?”

Gentle fingers grip Wanda’s chin, moving her head back to its original position. She catches a glimpse of Scarlet’s smirking lips, and jumps slightly when the woman teasingly drags the cold metal of the nipple clamps across each breast.

“Yes, darling. Natasha.” Wanda can hear the teasing tone in Scarlet’s voice, and attempts to twist her head to the side to ask for more information. The fingers against her jaw tighten, the blunt fingernails digging into her skin as Scarlet holds her head in place.

“If you’re good, maybe I’ll tell you the stories later.”

“Stories? As in plural?” Wanda knows that there's a hint of hysteria in her voice, and Scarlet wraps her hand around her throat, soothing her instantly. She can feel the woman smiling against her ear and tries not to move when her hand tightens.

“Don’t think too hard about it, you’ll hurt that pretty little head of yours.” The words send Wanda spiraling straight into a vanilla-scented haze, and she nods dumbly in response. She lets herself get wrapped up in the comforting touches of Scarlet's hand and the soft kisses being placed against her neck as the hand wrapped around her throat moves down and begins attaching the nipple clamps.

Wanda’s body feels like it’s on fire, the nipple clamps shooting white-hot bolts of pleasure straight to her throbbing clit as Scarlet tightens them. Her moans reverberate around the room, her hips twitching aimlessly as she searches for a source of friction. Anything to ease the pressure at her core.

“You never answered my question.” The words reach Wanda’s ears, and she thinks she might cry. Her brain is not working the best right now, and it's absolutely cruel of Scarlet to ask her questions while she’s in this state.

“Um, I…” Wanda can’t quite seem to wrap her head around the previous question, her mind blank as she searches for an answer.

“Did you forget already? That’s alright, maybe this will help you remember.” Scarlet murmurs in her ear, before grabbing the delicate chain swinging between Wanda’s breasts that connected to the nipple clamps. Tugging, she relishes in the broken moans leaving those sinfully plump lips, her eyes locked on Wanda’s painfully hard nipples as they stretch slightly under the force of the chain.

“It was, fuck… Agatha.” Wanda manages, and Scarlet pauses. Taking in small breaths, so she doesn’t stretch her nipples further than pleasantly painful, Wanda tilts her head slightly, trying to guess why the woman had stopped.

“Agatha, as in… the one who tried to battle you in Westview? The one who nearly stole my power in my universe? The one with the rabbit?” Scarlet’s voice is disbelieving, and she shakes her head as she processes. A proud chuckle escapes her lips, and she presses a kiss softly against Wanda’s cheek before tugging sharply against the chain.

A strangled yelp leaves Wanda’s lips, and Scarlet moves her other hand towards the glistening mound between the redhead’s thighs. “I didn’t know you had it in you, darling. Very well done.”

Pride blooms in Wanda’s chest, and she lets a slow smile onto her face as Scarlet begins circling her clit. Those talented fingers avoid the one spot that needs the most attention, instead dipping down and collecting the leaking wetness from her leaking pussy, before smearing it over her inner thighs.

“Fuck, darling. You’re absolutely soaked, I didn’t realize that fucking yourself, in a manner, would get you this hot and bothered.” Scarlet’s voice is teasing, and Wanda groans as she dips the tips of her fingers into her entrance, before pulling away and smearing it onto her other thigh.

“Well,” Wanda begins, feeling her thighs tremble from the effort of staying still, “What can I say? We’re attractive, don’t even try to deny it.”

Scarlet hums approvingly, and without any warning, thrusts two fingers knuckle deep into the wet heat of Wanda’s pussy. A moan sounds out, and Scarlet relishes in the way the woman’s walls are clamping around her fingers, before beginning to thrust them quickly.

The sound of Wanda’s arousal sloshing around her fingers nearly sends Scarlet over the edge, and she grinds her pelvis firmly against Wanda’s backside. Working herself up, Scarlet thrusts quickly, her fingers hitting that sweet spongy spot that has Wanda seeing stars. The gasped moans sound like music to her ears, and she lets out her own moan into Wanda’s ear, pleased with the way the redhead rolls her hips against her fingers.

Moving her thumb up to apply pressure against her protruding clit, Scarlet tugs sharply at the nipple clamps, before moving her mouth close to Wanda’s ear and muttering, “Cum.”

All it takes is a few more deep thrusts, and Scarlet’s teeth biting into that sensitive spot of Wanda’s neck to bring her orgasm to the surface. She shudders, her walls clamping down on Scarlet’s fingers as they pulsate, the muscles contracting and expanding rapidly. Her clit throbs under the woman’s thumb, each wave of her orgasm feeling just as strong as the last as Scarlet fucks her through it.

Breathing deeply, Wanda attempts to calm herself down, her clit already overstimulated and painfully sensitive. She pushes Scarlet’s hand away, ignoring the huff from behind her as she turns around and faces the woman fully.

“You also did very well.” Wanda says cheekily, electing to ignore the eye roll she receives. She places a hand against Scarlet’s flushed cheek, her fingers still trembling from the force of her orgasm as they stroke her skin softly.

Green eyes stare back at her, flicking to her lips as Wanda pants, regaining her ability to breathe. As soon as her breaths have evened out, she pulls Scarlet closer, their lips colliding gently. Wanda thinks that Scarlet has the softest lips she’d ever had the pleasure of kissing, and moves her own smoothly against hers.

A strong tongue licks at her bottom lip, and Wanda allows it, enjoying the feel of Scarlet’s tongue against hers as she slowly pushes her down until her shoulder blades hit the mattress. Twisting her fingers, Wanda brings one of the objects to her waiting palm, smirking against the other woman’s lips when it hits her hand.

Pulling away, Wanda sits up, moving her thighs to either side of Scarlet's waist. She eargerly takes in the halo of reddish-brown hair around her and the way her eyes sparkle as they curiously look at the item in her hand.

“And what’s that for?” Scarlet asks, her hand already twitching as she reaches for the vibrator.

Wanda pulls it away, outside of her reach, and chuckles at the crinkle that appears between her eyebrows. She twists her fingers again, causing scarlet tendrils to wrap around the woman’s wrists and pull them towards the headboard.

“How creative.” Scarlet’s tone is flat, her face unimpressed.

“I’m not finished yet.” The words are murmured, and Scarlet feels slightly embarrassed at the wave of wetness she feels leak out of her at the sound of Wanda’s low voice. Watching with slightly widened eyes, Scarlet’s mouth falls open at the mirror that appears on the ceiling, showing the two of them perfectly.

Looking up, Wanda grins at the placement of the mirror. She smirks at Scarlet, hearing the woman’s thoughts running wild as she takes in their forms through the reflective glass. Moving herself back slightly, she traps the woman’s legs between her thighs as she sets the vibrator on the puffy flesh of Scarlet’s mound.

“I haven’t even turned it on, and you’re already rutting against the toy.” Wanda says, her voice still teasing as Scarlet attempts to still her hips. At the slight glare she receives, Wanda pulls the toy away before delivering a sharp slap to the glistening pussy in front of her. Her fingers hit the woman’s clit perfectly, and she enjoys the jolt that makes its way through Scarlet’s body.

If the resounding moan is anything to go by, Scarlet loves it. She muffles the moan that attempts to escape her, and Wanda raises a single eyebrow.

“Don’t quiet yourself, I want to hear every sound I can pull out of you.” Her words are firm, demanding even, and Scarlet nods quickly as she glances towards the toy through the mirror. She would give just about anything to feel its vibrations against her now-aching pussy.

Almost as if she can read her thoughts (oh wait), Wanda turns the toy on, pressing it deliciously against Scarlet’s protruding clit. Jolts of pleasure rush through her, and she throws her head back while squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

As soon as she does so, Wanda pulls the toy away, tilting her head when Scarlet looks at her with betrayal in her eyes, asking in a whiny tone, “Why?”

“I want you to look at yourself when I make you cum from a single toy.” Wanda’s tone is smug, almost too smug for Scarlet’s liking, but any protests she has fade away when the redhead turns the toy back on, bumping up the strength slightly.

A string of curse words leaves her lips, her eyes locked on the toy through the mirror. Eventually, they wander towards her slightly squirming hips, and she moans at the sight. Tugging at her restraints, Scarlet watches the way her muscles flex as she attempts to escape their tight hold, and for a moment, she thinks she sees Wanda’s body instead of her own.

That would make sense, seeing as they were literally the same person, and Scarlet feels the lines between them start to blur as her orgasm rises. She sneaks a glance down, watching as Wanda’s eyes greedily take in the sight of her squirming body. That scene alone makes her gush around the toy, the vibrations increasing in sound as the liquid vibrates between her pussy and the toy.

“Do you want to cum?” Wanda asks, not giving her the chance to respond before she continues. “You know, I’m never able to keep still either when I touch myself at home. A vibrator practically makes me move all over the bed, and I have to restrain my hips against the bed whenever I use it.”

Scarlet’s lips fall open, and Wanda smirks when she reads the thoughts running through her hazy mind. “Ah, you do the same thing, huh? I guess we really aren’t that different from each other, even though we’re from different universes.”

The thought of Wanda getting off to a vibrator while restraining herself plays on repeat in Scarlet’s mind, and she cants her own hips upwards as she feels her orgasm close in. Streams of pleas leave her lips, the woman too far gone to feel much shame about it.

“Please, let me… fuck. I’m so- I’m. Fuck. Close, I’m close. Please, I need to… let me. I need to cum. Please.” Scarlet writhes against her restraints, feeling Wanda’s thighs tighten around her own thighs as she minimizes the movements of her legs.

“Wanda, please.” At the sound of her own name falling from those familiar lips, Wanda turns the vibrations up a few levels, pressing the toy firmly against Scarlet’s spasming pussy. Loud moans reverberate around the dim room, the scent of arousal filling Wanda’s nose as she watches the woman below her with intense focus.

“Cum for me, darling.” The words are soft, but the second they leave Wanda’s lips, Scarlet feels her orgasm crash over her.

White hot tendrils of pleasure course through her, her hips jolting against the toy as she feels another wave of wetness coat the head of the vibrator. Wanda’s thighs are firm against hers, limiting the effect of her convulsions as her orgasm hits her with wave after wave of pleasure cascades through her body.

Feeling like her nerves are quite shot, Scarlet whimpers when the vibrations against her clit become painful, her pussy clenching around nothing as wetness leaks all over her inner thighs and down to the comforter. Wanda turns down the settings on the toy to the lowest level, helping Scarlet ride out the aftershocks and prolonging the pleasure as long as possible.

After a minute or two, Scarlet’s eyes plead with Wanda to turn off the toy, her throat feeling hoarse from the ragged moans that ripped through it. The only thing she can manage is a whispered, “Please.”

Wanda turns off the toy, discarding it somewhere behind her as she leans down to kiss the trembling lips on the woman below her. Her shift of position causes Scarlet to feel the pool of wetness that had leaked from the redhead’s own throbbing center against her thighs, and she moans into her mouth.

Twisting her fingers again, Wanda releases Scarlet from the tendrils of magic restraining her wrists. Feeling those hands come down and wrap themselves in her hair, she hums pleasantly against the woman’s mouth, gasping at the sharp tug that follows.

A strong tongue snakes into her mouth, sliding pleasantly against her own as Scarlet practically devours her lips and tongue. Her teeth graze Wanda’s bottom lip lightly, almost teasingly, before biting down and pulling.

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Wanda grinds her overheated core against the hard muscles of Scarlet's now-soaked thighs. She kisses away the smirk that appears on the woman’s face, using her magic to bring another toy to her hand.

“I want to ride you.” Wanda is pleased with the groan her words draw from Scarlet’s throat, the woman’s eyes widening with anticipation at the strap on clenched in Wanda’s hand. Her hands gesture urgently, fingers trembling as she clenches the comforter below her.

Waving her hand, Wanda watches scarlet wisps attach the strap to Scarlet’s pelvis. This toy was different from the strap she had in her own universe, as it didn’t have a harness. Instead, there was a smaller dildo attached that slipped inside the person wearing it, creating the illusion that the toy was genuinely attached to the woman.

A groan leaves Scarlet’s swollen lips, Wanda’s hand tugging against the toy as she makes sure it’s attached correctly. The smaller part of the toy buried in Scarlet's pussy hits her g-spot perfectly, the larger dildo on the outside pressing snugly against her clit.

Grasping at Wanda’s waist, Scarlet’s hands impatiently position the redhead over the strap. Scarlet positions herself against the headboard slightly, just enough so that she can still watch their movements through the mirror while also looking directly at Wanda’s face.

“Go on.” The raspy quality of Scarlet’s voice causes another wave of wetness to escape Wanda’s core, and she slowly sinks down on the strap, giving herself time to adjust. The hands around her waist move down until they grip her hips, helping her take the last inch of the toy, both of them sighing in sync when the strap bottoms out.

Wanda experimentally moves her hips, just slightly, as a strangled moan escapes her when the tip of the toy drags over that spongy spot inside her. She begins fucking herself on the strap, Scarlet’s hands resting against her hips, the woman’s eyes eagerly taking in the sight before her.

“You look absolutely beautiful like this.” Scarlet’s voice is almost reverent, her eyes unblinking as she watches the glistening strap when Wanda sinks down on it over and over again. She lets her eyes wander up Wanda’s body, taking in her breasts as they bounce slightly with each thrust of Wanda’s hips.

“That’s a bit conceited, don’t you think?” Wanda has a single eyebrow raised, her voice breathless as she focuses on the building pleasure coursing through her. She grinds herself against Scarlet's pelvis, the strap hitting her g-spot perfectly as the strap is buried inside her overheating pussy.

Scarlet chuckles, her fingers gripping Wanda’s hips tighter and urging her hips to move faster. She moves her lips closer to Wanda’s grazing them as she speaks, “Well, its like you said earlier, we’re both hot as fuck, darling.”

Wanda doesn’t respond, choosing instead to capture her other self’s lips in a searing kiss. Her teeth clack against Scarlet’s, her lips desperate as she sucks and bites at the woman’s already swollen lips. She feels the fingers around her hips dig in, and she’s positive that she’ll find multiple bruises in the morning.

Breaking the kiss, Scarlet enjoys the whimper that escapes Wanda as she lifts her hips and slams her back on the strap. “Fuck yourself, Wanda.”

A few broken moans ring out, and Wanda uses all the strength she has left to lift her hips repeatedly. White hot pleasure builds, the pressure in her core becoming unbearable as Scarlet begins thrusting her hips as well.

“I’m going to cum.” Wanda’s voice is strained, her head thrown back as her eyes close of their own accord. Scarlet can’t blame her, knowing how desperate she also becomes when a strap on is involved. Using a single hand, she begins applying pressure against Wanda’s throbbing clit.

The hard nub pulsates beneath her fingers, and Wanda’s movements become uncoordinated and jerky, a sign that means she’s close to an orgasm. Scarlet feels a rush of power, and she leans her own head back, watching both of them through the mirror on the ceiling. Her fingers slip over Wanda’s clit, arousal coating them as she circles it quickly.

“Let go, Wanda. Cum for me, you can do it.” Scarlet urges, watching as the redhead comes undone. She shakes, her hips rutting against the toy as she lets out a few strained moans. Her orgasm is quick, the aftershocks holting through her until she’s almost dizzy from the stimulation. Still, it's not enough.

“More,” Wanda chokes out, her chest heaving and mind hazy as she feels pleasure build once more. “I need more, please.”

In one quick movement, Scarlet moves forwards, maneuvering them until Wanda’s back is pressed against the mattress, her eyes looking directly at the mirror on the ceiling. From this angle, she can watch as Scarlet’s back muscles flex while her hips thrust roughly into her. It's a mesmerizing sight, and only causes her orgasm to race towards the edge once more.

The sound of a metal chain clinking shocks Wanda out of her daze, and she suddenly remembers the nipple clamps still attached to her. From the look on Scarlet’s face, she’s immensely pleased with this, and her fingers wrap around the chain as she moves into a kneeling position.

“Keep watching in the mirror, you’re going to enjoy this.”

“Fuck.” That’s the only word that Wanda can manage, her eyes glued to Scarlet’s form in the mirror. She watches her hand gently tug at the chain, her nipples stretching slightly. She sighs at the pleasurable jolts of pain that shoot through her at the action, her hips jerking as she attempts to fuck herself against the strap.

She needs more.

A smirk appears on Scarlet’s face as soon as the thought runs through Wanda’s mind, and she snaps her hips sharply. Pulling the length of the toy almost completely out of the poor redhead’s soaked entrance, she tugs harshly at the nipple clamps while simultaneously thrusting the entire toy deep inside of Wanda.

The sound that tears from Wanda’s throat is animalistic, her pupils blown as she watches Scarlet’s hips pound against hers as the strap reaches the deepest parts of her pussy. Her fingers clench the comforter beneath her, her knuckles completely white as she grits her teeth and arches her back.

“Tell me how much you want it, how much you need to cum.” Scarlet demands, her tone as unforgiving as the rapid pace she sets. She waves her hand, the vibrator slapping against her palm as Wanda begins speaking, her words broken and desperate.

“Please, I- fuck. I need it so bad, please. I’ll… do… fucking hell. I’ll do anything. Just, please- jesus. Please let me, oh fuck… right there. Yes, fuck. Let me come. Please.” The words are babbled, some coherent and others mumbled breathily as Wanda’s eyes glaze over.

Scarlet has never seen a more beautiful sight.

Skilled hands turn the vibrator on, setting it to one of the highest vibration levels. Wanda whines at the sound of the toy, her legs squeezing in an attempt to close against the overstimulation she knows she’s about to receive.

“You’ll take everything I give you.” Scarlet’s voice is low, her eyes glinting in the low light of the room. She pries Wanda’s thighs apart, her hips thrusting quickly as she presses the vibrator to Wanda’s swollen clit.

Wanda’s hips jerk violently, tears forming in her eyes at the painful stimulation. It’s enough, and exactly what she’d begged so prettily for, and she’s cumming within seconds. Her clit pulses against the toy, tears streaming down her face as her back arches even more. Her fingers grasp at Scarlet’s wrists, but with a few scarlet tendrils, they’re quickly pinned above her head.

Lewd noises sound out, Wanda’s cries going unheard as Scarlet watches her in fascination. She has an idea, and pulls the vibrator away, enjoying the relieved sobs that tear through Wanda’s throat for a moment, before her hands are rough against the redhead’s waist.

Pulling the strap from the poor woman, she flips her onto her stomach, conjuring a second mirror in front of them. Pulling her ass up, she positions Wanda on her knees, before sharply tugging at her hair and forcing her to look into the mirror.

Moaning at the sight she sees, Wanda takes in the strong form of Scarlet behind her, pulling her hands uselessly against her restraints as the woman’s hips move relentlessly. The strap reaches the deepest part of Wanda’s clenching pussy, streams of arousal coating the length of it as she’s fucked roughly from behind.

Green eyes lock together through the mirror, both with pupils so blown their irises seem almost black, and Wanda feels the deep ache of another orgasm rising. Her walls flutter around the strap, sloshing sounds filling the room and mixing with her shaky moans as Scarlet watches intently.

“I can’t.” Wanda manages, feeling spent, her legs trembling to hold her up even as Scarlet's hands move to support her hips.

“You can,” Scarlet grits out, slamming her hips faster, “And you will.”

A guttural sound leaves Wanda’s throat, the sound ripping through her as Scarlet places the vibrator back on her clit. She falls face down on the mattress, the hand in her hair adjusting her so she can still watch through the mirror with one half-closed eye. She feels a painful ache spread through her body as her orgasm rises, and bites back a sob when her sensitive nipples brush against the comforter with each deep thrust of the strap.

“Now, Wanda.” Scarlet’s voice is smooth and low, her breaths even as she watches the scene through the mirror. “Cum.”

Her final orgasm tears through her body, flames of pleasure roaring through her veins as Wanda weakly fights against her restraints. She tries to escape the seemingly never-ending pleasure, but Scarlet’s tight hold on her hips prevents any attempts.

“Too much.” Wanda chokes out, her vision darkening around the edges as Scarlet thrusts the toy deep inside her one last time. Her whole body is trembling, and she nearly sobs in relief when the vibrator is turned off and discarded somewhere on the bed.

“You did so well,” Scarlet murmurs, watching the cum stained strap as she slowly pulls it out of Wanda’s spasming pussy. She ignores the whimper that the action draws from Wanda, her fingers tracing gentle circles on the woman’s lower back as she finally pulls the toy out.

“I’ve never…” Wanda begins, her voice weak. Scarlet shushes her, twisting her spent body until Wanda is laying with her back against the mattress. Twisting her fingers, she removes the restraints around Wanda’s wrists, and sends her toys off to be cleaned, choosing to keep the ceiling mirror where it is.

Conjuring a warm, damp washcloth, Scarlet begins cleaning the multitude of juices coating Wanda’s inner thighs as her other hand strokes through the woman’s scarlet hair softly. Wanda practically basks in the attentive way Scarlet helps her down, grounding herself with each gentle stroke of the washcloth and each slow pass of the woman’s long fingers against her scalp.

“Feel good?” Wanda would scoff at the question, if she had the strength to do so. Instead, she chooses to nod slowly, her eyes closing of their own accord.

Eventually, Scarlet finishes cleaning her up, and presses a gentle kiss against Wanda’s swollen lips before laying down next to her and pulling her body close to her own.

“I bet we make quite a sight.” Wanda murmurs, turning to her side and facing the other version of herself. She still can’t quite believe that Scarlet is real, but the sex… now that certainly felt real.

“I’m real, darling.” Scarlet sounds tired, her arms wrapping around Wanda’s waist. “And I guarantee that we do.”

Wanda babbles something incoherent, already half asleep as she nuzzles further into Scarlet’s warmth. Her hands snake around the woman’s shoulders, pulling her closer as she pulls the comforter up around them. She tries to say something else, her words slurred as her eyes attempt to open, and Scarlet chuckles.

“Hush, Wanda. Go to sleep.” Her tone is fond, her own eyes closing even as she tries to keep them open. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

A single green eye peers up at her, sparkling in the dim lighting as a small smile appears on Wanda’s face. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

558 notes · View notes

hannie-dul-set · 8 months

Text

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [6].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. almost drowning, a nauseating amount of stupidity, swearing, sex jokes, bribery, the boys are shirtless for most of the chapter. WORD COUNT. 5.2k.

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi @certifiedmoa @blueberrgyuu0 @primantha @blu3bell4 @nunugget @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @captivq @tocupid @seosalad @ddazed-lhs @gyuszie @mifuyuyo @error-cant-function @twocupsofsuga @flowerbe0m @dangerousconnoisseurbanana @laviesm @keikeu @elavin @chaemmie @rikisly @satsuri3su @gyugyubin @junhuicosmo @skzenhalove @luvkpopp @yansbolobao @emer-syn @eggomi @drunkinjake @soobiverse @deobitifull @haechanspudu @yawnzzn27 @7myoi @toothfa-1-ry @imsiriuslyreal @maimoirs @whippedforbeomgyu

NOTE. this is my favorite chapter so far i think i peaked here. the ppt scene was inspired by anthpo, my professors' tendency to use the socratic method to instill trauma in their students, and hoshi from seventeen's tiger agenda. also, most of this was written before i found out odi has passed 😔 fly high little guy.

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 6 — the obligatory pool episode.

THERE’S A HEATWAVE IN TOWN. When you wake up, it feels like you got transported into Satan’s rectum. It’s sweaty and disgusting under your covers, and kicking them off does nothing to appease the hellish humidity inside your room. But when you roll over to grab the remote for the air conditioning, blindly press on the button, nothing happens.

You try again.

It’s not working.

You jolt up from your bed, hair a mess, and armpits too sweaty for comfort. A power outage. Of course, there’d be no power on the hottest day of the year.

“Fucking shit, I’m so hot,” you announce as you make your arrival downstairs. It’s only Sunghoon and Jay in the living room. They turn away from their game of jenga upon your arrival.

“Yeah, you’re super hot,” says Jay. “I mean, damn global warming sure sucks, huh?”

The wooden tower collapses. You stifle out a grunt of agreement. “Apparently some feeders in the neighborhood broke down,” Sunghoon informs you. “They’re still fixing it. The generator also wasn’t working when Heeseung hyung went down the basement to turn it on. I think we need to get that fixed too.”

Well, shit. That’s not good news. You give Sunghoon a pat on the head for speaking thirty-six words to you today before walking over to the kitchen. Last time you checked, there was a stash of popsicles in there. You’re pretty sure they haven’t been completely water-fied by the blackout yet.

For some reason, upon nearing the kitchen island, the fridge door is hanging open. You understand why when you step on something— er, someone— on the way towards your frozen delight. “Ow!” Beomgyu hisses from the floor. There’s remnants of cold wind filtering out from the refrigerator. Beomgyu has claimed it as his territory, and he’s glaring up at you from his spot. “Watch where you’re going.”

“‘Scuse me.”

You walk over him, hiking one leg across his torso before infringing upon his fridge monopoly to grab a half-melted melon bar. This isn’t exactly how Beomgyu imagined how it’d be like to be in between your legs. “I’m not sure if you’re dense or if you just don’t give a fuck,” he says, propping himself up by the elbows as you dig through a plastic bag.

“I really just don’t don’t give a fuck.” You snap a bite out of the pale green popsicle. “Want one?”

“Give.”

“Go get one yourself.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m sure you’d love to.” You close the fridge door shut and make sure to kick his side with your foot when you cross over him again. He lets out a cry of pain. You turn back, satisfied with your cold exploits, but there is no wall separating the living room and the kitchen, so Sunghoon and Jay were witnesses to that entire conversation. “Do you also want a bite?” you ask. Their ears burn a couple degrees brighter before declining.

Was that an intentional insinuation? Yes. Do you enjoy destroying their composure on purpose? Also yes. It’s a new hobby you picked up since staying here, and it’s definitely one you’ll miss once your dorms get fixed and you’d have to move out. Jay and Jake are both particularly difficult to get through, but sometimes you can manage to fluster the former, just like now. Jake has been impossible so far. You’ll get him one day. He can’t be left unscathed.

This may seem terrible, and sometimes you do get a teensy bit conscientious when one of them starts crying or becomes temporarily incapacitated— until you remember they have this whole secret bet going on that definitely involves you, so you should be allowed to fuck around this much, right?

“Hey! Why don’t we have a pool party?”

The genius idea comes from Jake. You immediately run up back to your room upon hearing the suggestion to change into a bathing suit, pausing right before your door because you don’t want anyone waving the PD&J at your face for indecent attire again. So you throw on a beach kimono for the safety of your wallet. They emptied the jar out yesterday to buy some meat for a barbecue party that’s supposed to be scheduled this weekend, but looks like you’re gonna be having that sweet, sweet pork belly tonight right by the chlorine scent of the pool.

You hurry downstairs, so fucking ready to be submerged in cool, refreshing water. But when you get to the courtyard— all the boys already loitering in and around the pool— you realize something.

Something a little dangerous.

“You’re finally here!”

Oh no. They’re hot.

“We’re playing chicken fight, come jo—”

A rather scantily clad Sunghoon pushes an equally scantily clad Jake off Soobin’s unclothed shoulders and into the splash of the water. They are all bare-skinned, glistening wet, and although it’s not a bad sight to behold at all, it’s a discovery that you wish had remained undiscovered until you finally leave this damned house.

Listen. It’s not like you’ve never seen any of them shirtless or almost naked before. Jay was literally in his highlighter underwear when you first met him. But you were never put in a situation where you’re able to look at them closely because all those times have been meshed with something stupid.

It’s very easy to overlook their general attractiveness when they all act like third-graders, bitchless losers, scandalized Victorian men, or all of the above at the same time, in the same sequence. It’s really easy to forget that.

But Heeseung has his soaked tank top sticking to his skin and Beomgyu is pushing his wet hair back with a wide grin. Your housemates might actually be a tad bit more attractive than your prolonged, initial impression of them. This can cause a little internal trouble.

“Why aren’t you getting in the water?”

Soobin is the one that’s asking, having already left the water fight in the middle and is now looking up at you, chest deep near the pool’s edge. You look down. You’re not sure if he’s looking directly at you because you’re a little focused on his toned arms resting above the ledge, but if he is, then good on him for keeping up with his eye-contact practice hours.

“Hey,” you call out, crouching down and hugging your knees. “Do you work out?”

Silence. Pink scatters across Soobin’s cheeks. He coughs out an unintelligible response and disappears back under the water, quietly swimming away. Yes. This is how it should be.

Feeling a lot more at ease after confirming you still have the upper hand, you finally dip your legs into the pool and stretch out your back with a satisfied groan. Fuck, this is perfect. You’re honestly unsure how you’re supposed to transition back into life at the dorms when this house has a perfectly refreshing pool at your disposal. You don’t remember what life was like before this. You’d live here for the rest of your life if you could. But you have enough pride in your system to prevent you from extending your verbal contract with Jake. Two months. It’s a few days past the halfway point now. All you could do is enjoy this life of comfort as much as you can.

Until it gets ripped away from you in the form of Jake yanking your ankle and dragging you under the water with a horrifying splash.

Before you know it, you’re gasping for air and grabbing the nearest thing your arms could reach out for so you don’t fucking drown— but when you finally manage to rise back to the surface, a loud inhale of air into your lungs, the person you managed to hold onto just happens to be Heeseung.

Heeseung, who’s looking down at you with wide, alarmed eyes while you’re wrapped around his waist. Heeseung, who shoves you back into the water out of panic and shock and whatever the fuck his problem is.

Jake rushes to pull you back up. Heeseung is dead to you.

“I’m sorry.”

He failed to kill you so he’s now down on his knees, timid palms on his lap, and head lowered in guilt.

“I am very sorry,” Heeseung repeats. “I am deeply reflecting on my actions.”

You’re sitting on the half log shaped chairs on the courtyard, still wet, arms and legs both crossed in petulance as Sunghoon quietly dries your hair with a towel from behind (no, you didn’t scare him into doing this).

“Stand up.” He flinches at the tone of your voice. “Go get yourself dried up so we can finally start the barbecue.”

He’s awfully obedient. You watch as his slumped figure trudges back into the house. “Was that too much?” The back of your head hits Sunghoon’s bare stomach when you try to look at him. He’s holding your head in his hands with the damp towel in between.

“You’re always a little much,” he mumbles.

“Is that a bad or good thing?”

Sunghoon ponders for a moment, staring at your upside down face. “More is always better than less?”

You smile, snatching the towel from his hands and jumping off from your seat. “Good answer.” Two gentle pats of praise on his cheek set his skin on fire. Speaking of fire, you can already smell the scent of smoke and deliciously cooking meat wafting in the air, so you run over to Jay who’s on grilling duty, hoping to get an early bite.

“Can you pass me a plate?” he asks, flipping the cut up pieces of meat on the barbecue grill. “Thanks.”

“Gimme one.” You open your mouth, chasing after the slice of pork belly on his tongs until he brings it closer to your mouth for you to bite. “Holy shit,” you muffle out, hot air escaping from your lips.

“Good?” he asks.

“Very good.” You swallow the piece. “One more?”

He lets you snack on a bunch of well-done beef before they could reach the plate and at some point he mentions, as you’re tearing open a few packs of ramyeon to cook, that you look a lot like the curled up pieces of shrimp he’s currently grilling. You narrow your eyes at him, hand dangerously hovering above boiling water with a square of raw noodles. “Are you trying to say I look charred and have a terrible posture?”

“No.” Jay raises a piece of shrimp in the air, showing it off to you. “Doesn’t it look cute?”

Now that you’re looking at it a little closer, it does look kind of cute. Huh. “Would you eat me if I was a grilled shrimp?”

Jay thinks about it. He keeps thinking until you start smelling something burning. “I’d keep you safe in my pantry,” he finally answers.

“So you’ll just let me spoil over and die?”

His expression drops. “Fuck.” The shrimp is unsalvageable. “I guess I’d have to eat you.”

The rest of dinner goes on as you expect. Jay and Beomgyu take turns over the grill until Jake thought he’d be naturally gifted over the fire and ended up making charcoal with the last pack of galbi (“It’s fine!” he said. “I’ll take care of it!”) and today’s heatwave suddenly becomes a whole lot hotter with the rising flame on the fucking grill right when Soobin brings out the marshmallows for dessert. It gets quickly defused by a fire-hydrant bearing Heeseung. Now your charcoal galbi has toxic frosting on them. This is the sign to move on to the next part of the program.

The set of log-themed chairs on the courtyard has a bonfire set-up at the center. Of course this unreasonably nice house has that. It’s already getting dark, ink seeping into the orange tintent sky. Jake decides to redeem himself after watching Heeseung fail to set up the chunks of wood for the nth time. “You don’t know how to start a fire? Dude, that’s so lame.”

“You burnt all our remaining meat with those fire starting skills of yours,” Heeseung huffs, stepping aside for the self-proclaimed camping expert.

“You still ate them.” You’re pretty sure that isn’t healthy.

“Because you would’ve felt sad if I didn’t.”

“You’re both equally lame,” Beomgyu chides, plopping down beside you with a bag of chips that you unceremoniously dig your hand into. “You two haven’t even had your solo chapters yet.”

A flame erupts on the bonfire. Both of them turn to look at Beomgyu. “What?”

“What are we arguing about?” Jay joins in, looking a little too excited for the squabble.

“About the fact that I’m cooler than both Heeseung and Jake.”

Heeseung’s expression falls flat. “You dropped out to become a streamer.”

“Leave of absence! I took a leave of absence and I’m coming back next year!”

Sunghoon and Soobin are both just ignoring the mess, roasting their skewered marshmallows on the bonfire and you aspire to be that level of unbothered. “Let’s consult a professional’s opinion,” Jay suggests, and all their eyes immediately fall on you. “Who do you think is the coolest?” Apparently that professional is you.

“This is like asking which dwarf is the tallest midget,” you wrinkle your nose. “But alright. Why don’t we settle this like real men?”

“Arm wrestling?” Sunghoon jumps in.

“Cooking contest?” Heeseung pitches.

“Do you want us to beat the shit out of each other right now?” Jake’s eyes fly wide open, alarmed. “I don’t think that’s a healthy way of settling arguments.”

“The fuck? No,” you spit out. “Thirty minutes. Prepare a powerpoint presentation explaining why you’re the coolest loser. Convince me. Ten slides max. Good luck.”

Something about almost naked men scattered around your home premises, aggressively typing on their keyboards with so much concentration and determination is so funny. You’re enjoying the raw bag of marshmallows by yourself beside the fire, watching as Heeseung starts panicking when you yell out “Five minutes left!” and starts typing even more aggressively. It’s pretty entertaining. Why haven’t you done this before?

At some point Jake brings out a projector and a projector screen to the courtyard. Seems like the power is back on, and your classroom of death has been set in place.

“Okay. Who wants to go first?”

You’ve produced a clipboard while they were working very hard on the PPTs earlier, legs crossed, fire crackling in front of you, and you click the butt of your pen in intermittent seconds as you scroll your eyes from left to right across the six boys standing in front of you. Heeseung looks confident. Jay and Beomgyu, too. There’s sweat dripping down Sunghoon’s forehead and Jake is furiously flipping through his notepad like he’s cramming for a final exam. But the poor, unfortunate soul that just had to look away from your gaze is none other than—

“Choi Soobin.” He flinches, nearly letting go of the laptop he has clutched against his chest. “Give it a go. The rest of you sit down.”

He looks rattled. “I’m not— I’m not really good at presentations,” Soobin chokes out, and the rest disappear from his side.

You let your chin rest on your knuckles, leaning forward. “Are you forfeiting? Is this a forfeit I’m hearing?” He doesn’t respond. You sigh. “Choi Soobin, are you settling with a D? A tiny, miniscule, measly D?” Beomgyu lets out a snort. You shoot him a sharp stare. “The other Choi, please shut the fuck up unless you want me docking points from you. Choi number one, please start your presentation.

Beomgyu straightens in his seat and Soobin hesitantly clears his throat, turning towards the blank, white projector screen as he holds the clicker with a visibly shaky hand. “Good— good evening,” he starts. “My name is Choi Soobin, and today I was tasked to explain why I am the coolest housemate out of the six. The answer is I am not. I’m not very cool. But—”

When he clicks to the next slide, your clipboard clatters on the ground.

“But I do have a hedgehog, and that’s kinda cool?”

“Holy shit,” you exhale a breathy squeak, the picture of the rodent’s cute little snout occupying half of the large screen. Soobin cycles through a bunch of photos of his hedgehog and the various screams of delight you’re eliciting after each photo makes him smile a little bit more. “Look at that little guy! Oh my god. What’s his name? Where is he? Can I meet him? Please let me meet him, Soobin I am begging you, I will get on my knees for you.”

“His name is Odi and he’s currently living at my parents’ house,” he explains. “I’ll invite you sometime.”

“That’s cheating! This isn’t part of the guidelines!” Jake interrupts, pointing an accusatory finger at the photo of Soobin holding Odi in his hands. Your coos are unceasing.

Heeseung nods along. “Professor, I believe this is completely unrelated to our topic at hand.”

Soobin looks visibly offended. You straighten your expression and click your tongue. “Ahem,” you start. “As much as I believe that Odi is the darn cutest little shit to ever exist and I will die for him given the chance, Heeseung is right. Mr. Choi, I’m afraid I’d have to give you a C.”

He presses the clicker. The slide is back to the video of Odi running down a slide.

“Okay. B minus.”

Now it’s the one where he’s laying stomach-up on the floor.

“Fuck. God dammit. B plus and that’s it. Soobin, sit down. Heeseung, you’re up next.”

Soobin seems satisfied with the grade, dimples popping out with a smile as he takes Heeseung’s seat in the audience when the latter readies himself for his turn. He stifles out a cough-laugh, one corner of his mouth crookedly twitching upward, confidently sauntering up to the front with his iPad, and it’s mildly unsettling because he’s usually Nervous Boy #2. But it’s almost cheating how pretty his teeth are when he’s smiling.

And apparently he’s aware of that fact. Because after projecting his title slide (LEE HEESEUNG 101: the anatomy of a Cool Guy™), the next thing that appears is actually a photo of his very charming smile, coupled with Chip Skylark’s “My Shiny Teeth and Me” as the background music for his scientifically-grounded explanation. The next slide is a zoom in of his eyes next to a photo of Bambi. He has a venn diagram. This is actually pretty compelling.

Heeseung is a good speaker. He’s really good. The rest of his presentation goes smoothly, finishing it up with a list of references in APA format. Jake and Jay give him a round of applause. “If you have any questions, I’ll be more than happy to answer them,” he smiles.

“That was a fantastic presentation, Mr. Lee. I particularly liked the part when you demonstrated your ability to make very impressive, but also very alarming sounds with your fingers.” You flip through your very blank clipboard, nodding and throwing out hums at the times you deem appropriate. “I’d give you an A plus, but...I have one question for you.”

He nods. “Yes?”

“Heeseung, can you hug me?”

It evidently catches him off-guard, just as you predicted— persona of confidence crashing down like a waterfall as he stutters out, “Wh—what?”

You clear your throat. “Only cool people are able to hug me. I need to confirm that you’re cool.”

“I can hug you!” Jake declares right next to you.

You blindly reach out your arm to give him a head pat. “See. Jake says he can hug me so he must be pretty cool. Heeseung, you can do the same, can’t you?

There it is. He’s back to being nervous and you feel like your job here is done. “O–of course,” he stifles out, following it with a strained laugh of weak incredulity. “Why wouldn’t I be able to hug you?”

“Then prove it.” You stretch out your arms, ready to squeeze and be squeezed. “Give me a big ‘ol squeeze, pretty boy.”

You stay like that for ten seconds as Heeseung remains glued to his spot in front, eyes shaking and nipping at the dead skin on his lips. You let your arms fall back to your sides. “Okay. C minus. Next.” His expression quickly transforms into offense.

“I feel like this grading system is a scam.”

“No hug, no opinion. Sit your ass down,” you click your tongue, smacking him with the clipboard when he weakly trudges back and squeezes next to Beomgyu on the crowded seat to your left with the box of snacks occupying most of the fake log, even though there’s clearly enough space next to you because Jay already started walking to the front even without your instruction.

Jay does not give an introduction, only a rough clear of his throat and he opens his presentation with just a slide occupied with his face. Slide two is another picture of his face, only slightly zoomed out. The next one has the hashtag JWU. Then there’s a full body mirror selfie.

The rest of the presentation proceeds in the same manner— a wordless slideshow of what is possibly his Instagram feed and before you know it, it’s already over. “Okay,” you exhale, pressing your palms together in front of your lips. “I understand that you are indeed a very handsome individual, Mr. Park, but what does that have to do with the assigned topic?”

“The question is why I am the coolest one here,” he says. “I’m cool because I’m Jay Park.”

It falls quiet.

You finally break the silence.

“Shit, that’s a pretty compelling argument.”

“This is bullshit!” Sunghoon argues. “He didn’t even say anything! There was no discussion! He should be disqualified.”

Jay remains unfazed. He defends with irrefutable wisdom, “Sometimes pictures speak louder than words.”

“Damn.” You let your clipboard fall to your lap. “I’m giving you an A.”

“Fuck yeah.”

Your decision elicits outrage from some of your students. “How is he getting a higher grade than me?!” one of them raises.

“He’s getting a higher grade because he doesn’t think I have cooties, Heeseung.”

Heeseung throws his arms in the air in defeated frustration as Jay takes his snug seat right next to you again, a victorious smile gracing his face. You run your eyes through your scratch paper once more, pen tapping at the edge of the board. “Beomgyu, do you want to go next?” you ask, which is a mistake on your part because he starts acting just as obnoxious as Heeseung, which— if anything— just triggers your desire to make him crumble to his knees.

He even pulls out a lecture stick, testing it out by snapping it at full length on his palm. Is the fucker trying to go after your role as professor? Where the fuck did his glasses suddenly come from?

“Alright,” Beomgyu begins, the first slide displaying the words Why Choi Beomgyu is the coolest Housemate. “First thing’s first, does anyone in the audience know what my name is?”

“Oh, me!” Jake raises his hand. “Choi Beomgyu!”

“Correct!” The next slide appears when he hits the screen with the stick, revealing his name in a large, bold font with large spaces in between each syllable. “Choi. Beom. Gyu. Choi Beomgyu. Now, I’d like to direct your attention to this specific syllable right here—” he draws a circle around ‘Beom,’ “—what does Beom mean?”

“Offense,” Sunghoon answers. Beomgyu’s face scrunches up.

“What? Fuck, no. Another meaning— oh! Yes, Soobin hyung?”

“Tiger?”

His eyes brighten. “Exactly!”

The next slide is a photo of a tiger on a field of green grass, grooming its fur as Beomgyu passionately rattles on with fun facts about the animal. You have no idea where this is going. “Tigers are some of the most amazing creatures on the planet, they are the largest members of the cat family and are renowned for their power and strength. As the largest member of the cat family, Tigers are strong, powerful and one of nature's most feared predators—”

“Did you get that from a website?” Jay interrupts.

Beomgyu dismisses him. “Yes, I did, but that’s not the point. The point is—”

Next slide. A hit from his lecture stick. It’s more text. Beom = Tiger. Beom = Choi Beomgyu’s cute nickname. Tiger = Beomgyu.

“We have discussed that tigers are the coolest animals in the world. My name has tiger in it. Therefore I am the coolest person here. End of presentation. Thank you.”

He drops the stick to the ground and is about to walk away with Jake’s applause, but your penetrating stare stops him right before he reaches the crackling bonfire. You scribble on the clipboard before letting it settle face-down on your lap. You look up at him. “Beomgyu, are you a furry?”

Beomgyu freezes. He lets your question settle in his system before voicing out a very loud, very crunchy, “What the fuck?”

“Is this your way of telling us that you’re a furry?”

“No! What are you talking about?” he hisses. “I’m just saying that since tigers are cool, that means I’m also cool and—”

“So, you’re identifying with a tiger?” you cut him off.

He presses his lips together, cautious. “Yes…”

“Because you have the word tiger in your name?”

“Yes.”

“And because they’re cool?”

“Yes. We’ve established that alr—”

“Okay, so you’re a furry?”

“Ye— no!” he yells out. “I’m not a fucking furry!”

“Understood. You’re a furry in denial.” You write something down on the clipboard. Beomgyu’s shoulders slacken in defeat. “I’m giving you a B plus. Take a seat, Tigerboy.” Though he grumbles in distaste, he listens to you anyway, trudging deflatedly back to his seat next to the equally grumbly Heeseung.

There are two people left to be victimized. Jake looks excited, so you don’t want to indulge his positive emotions. “Sunghoon,” you call out with a pleasant smile. He squeezes his eyes shut and mutters something under his breath before forcing himself up the log without you having to tell him. “Good boy. Go set up your thing.”

Unlike the rest, Sunghoon doesn’t have a laptop or phone or flash drive with him when he awkwardly takes the presenter spot in front. He’s standing on the balls of his feet, arms tucked behind his back and lips tightly pressed together nervously. “Mr Park,” you pull down your clipboard. “You’re free to project your slides.”

“Well,” he coughs out. “The thing is.”

“Yes?”

He exhales loudly. “I don’t have any slides.” You raise a brow. “I don’t know how to use powerpoint.”

You look at him. “I see.”

“I don’t know how to use this projector, either.”

You pause.

“Okay. I understand.” He breathes out a sigh of relief. “Alright, next present—”

“Wait!” Sunghoon stops you. “I can still give my presentation, I don’t need any dumb slides! I’m just as cool, if not cooler than the rest of them, so you can’t just skip over me.”

“Mr. Park,” you start. “Unfortunately, one of the criteria for this presentation is the quality and organization of your slides. I do not see any slides being presented, Mr. Park. You may present next time once you’re fully prepared.”

“What about Jay?” he tries to reason. “He just showed you a preview of his camera roll!”

The man in question has his mouth hanging open, pausing in the middle of stuffing a nicely toasted marshmallow into his mouth. You let out a sigh. “He had philosophy, Mr. Park. Philosophy,” you explain. “Do you have philosophy? Are you confident that you can convince me with your words alone? Without the help of cute animals and pictures of your pretty face?”

At the mention of his face, his knitted brows of frustration quickly melt into faint pink hues dusting his cheeks. You sniffle a little, rubbing a finger under your nose as you flip through the next page of the clipboard that’s resting on your lap. “Meet me in my office after class,” you tell him. Sunghoon grunts and stomps back to his seat in defeat.

“This sucks balls.”

“You have quite a few options to pick and choose from here,” you hum. “Jake, you’re the last one up. Please tell me you have a presentation prepared.”

“I do, and it’s gonna blow your mind,” he grins.

“Looking forward to it.” You watch blankly as Jake runs up to the front to connect his laptop to the projector, an excited bounce in his every movement and you start wondering how you can shatter this one’s hopes and dreams.

He asks if he can start. You give him a nod. At the click of a button, something boomerangs into the blank screen with 2007 Windows graphics and animation. The atrocious mismatch of fonts say Jake Sim is the coolest one here and here’s why.

“Reason number one—” Jake starts his presentation, turning over to the next slide and your vision is attacked with more outdated graphics, more jarring transitions and animations. “—I’m super funny. Allow me to demonstrate.” He begins by clearing his throat. “What did the Italian chef get sent to jail for?”

“What?” you go along.

“Too much assault.”

An assault is also a very proper descriptor for his PPT aesthetic. An assault to your eyes. It’s like watching a car crash that you can’t look away from even if you try. Reason number two is that he has a great smile (he does). Reason number three is because he has a dog (he also does). Reason number four doesn’t exist because he miscounted and skipped over to Reason number five.

“And lastly, Reason number ten—”

He takes something out of his pockets. It’s a couple dozen bills being thrown into the air.

“I have a lot of money.”

The rest of the boys are quiet. Jake grows quiet too, chest rising and falling after that very enthusiastic presentation and his wide grin slowly melts into that muddled with nervousness and unease because you aren’t saying anything yet— just looking at him with stern eyes and a sharp gaze. “W-well?” he rasps. “How did I do…?”

“How much?” you ask. He cocks his head in confusion. “How much money do you have?”

“Oh.” Jake blinks, now understanding. “I don’t know but it’s a lot.”

Your eyes sparkle, posture straightening. “Will you give me some of that money?” The unease has left Jake and has now transferred to the other five boys around you. Oh boy. Oh no, their eyes all seem to be saying.

“Sure, why not.”

You clap your hands together. “Jake wins. Class dismissed. Good night.”

It doesn’t take long for chaos to break out.

Heeseung and Jay are demanding for a recount (there is nothing to count except the sweet, sweet cash you’ll be receiving) and Beomgyu accuses you of being a slave to capitalism (that should’ve been evident from how you tried to scam money out of them with nudity and a jar on your first week here). Soobin starts clearing up the projector set-up and Sunghoon is on his knees begging for another chance to do his presentation as you watch the digits on your phone screen bump up in real-time when Jake wires you a decent chunk from his bank account.

Another successful day at the residence. This heatwave is better than you thought.

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