#(but that might change by the time I'm finished with my other fics)

[sasheemo]

C'è sempre una prima volta (there is a first time for everything)

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Butch!Reader

Tags: One-Shot, Established Relationship, Strap-Ons (Rr), Frist Strap-On Experience (Rr), Smut with Fluff, Sexual Stereotypes, Mommy Kink and Praise Kink if you squint until your eyes hurt

Summary: You and Melissa have been together for almost a year and she wants to try something new in bed, you’re just taken aback by her request.

Word Count: 2.4k

Read on AO3

A/N: this was originally posted on 13.05.24 (AO3 only), but since I'm putting together a Masterlist, I decided to post it here too so that I could include it. This was the first fic (or anything really) I ever wrote , also english is not my native language so sorry for any mistakes you might encounter. I added some Italian here and there in the fic and you will find the translations in brackets.

You had just finished giving your beautiful girlfriend her second orgasm of the night when she looked at your straight in the eyes asking if this time she could use the strap on you. You were both lying on your bed and she was still panting and high from her orgasm, but she seemed pretty serious about her question. 

Noticing your surprised - and kinda worried - expression, Melissa asked you what was wrong.

“No no, nothing! Just to be clear, I’m not saying no … it’s just that nobody ever asked me something like that. I honestly never thought somebody would even want to have sex with me with a strap”

“Ma cosa stai dicendo?! (What are you even saying?!) Why would you think that?” 

“Well, I mean, usually butches are seen as tops and I guess in my case that is what was always expected from me in a relationship. When I say that nobody ever asked something like that to me I mean it. I always felt like it was implied that if someone was supposed to use the strap in bed…that would be me. And nobody actually ever behaved differently, proved it wrong or cared enough to talk about it I guess…” you replied plainly but with a hint of hurt in your voice

Melissa looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. Was it anger? Was it disappointment? Was it sadness? “Hon, I never expected anything from you since the day we met. It’s not about other people’s expectations, what you think you owe them, it’s about what you want. As for me, I just want you. All of you without any stereotype, expectation or limitation. Fuck everyone else and their opinions!”. You look at her lovingly, knowing she is telling the truth as you never felt any kind of pressure from her, from day one you could always be your truest self with her. 

You prop your head forward looking for her lips, but you notice that she doesn’t move and lets you come to her. Once you’re an inch away you feel her sultry voice brushing your lips “Now, do you want me to fuck you senseless with that strap or not?”

You instantly switch your gaze from her mouth to her eyes just to find two piercing emerald pools looking straight into your soul. That look alone could have you coming in seconds. Every. Single. Time. 

“Yes please.” a whisper comes out of your mouth as you lower your gaze

“Good girl. Now, we are going to start slowly and if I hurt you, if you’re uncomfortable or if at any point you change your mind, just let me know, ok? Guardami (look at me) and tell me you understand.” 

You finally look back at her and your stomach just drops. There she is, fully naked lying next to you. This gorgeous, fierce, stern, dominating and yet so reassuring woman. “I do, I understand.”

On that note she gets up without saying a word, takes the strap that had been sitting next to you on the bed for the past minutes, and proceeds to put it on. Still lying in bed you look at her. You have to admit the sight was just mouth-watering. It wasn’t the strap, it was Melissa wearing it and knowing she was about to fuck your brains out with it.

Once she’s done she hops on the bed placing herself between your legs, before starting to caress your sides, chest and abdomen with her hands. You ease into her touch as you start to feel her nails scarping down your hips and upper thighs. You whimper as moans start escaping your lips.

“That’s it baby, rilassati (just relax) and let me make you feel good.” with that she pushes your legs a bit more apart, while tracing your inner thighs with her nails. 

You start to feel that familiar buildup in your lower abdomen and wetness pooling between your legs. 

“Mel, touch me please.” comes out of your lips almost as whisper

“I am touching you” her eyes snap up at you and a familiar electricity shots through your body when you recognize that look on your girlfriend’s face.

You’re enjoying this, but so is she. Probably even more than you right now. Teasing you and filling you up with anticipation. 

“Mmm, I-I need you inside of me Mel…”

“How badly?” She asks in the sultriest voice while her fingers run up your thighs and down your hips stopping before reaching where you need her the most. 

You cry out at her stopping and move your hips involuntarily. “So bad Mel, please, just ple-ahh!” Air gets sucked in your throat when you feel her fingers sliding through your folds. 

“I’m afraid we’ll have to change the sheets once I’m done with you. You’re dripping now e non ho nemmeno iniziato (and I barely even started).” 

You knew she was probably right but there was nothing you could do about it. She was just incredibly hot and you melted under her touch every single time. 

You didn’t even have time to form your thought about what she just said as you felt two fingers sliding into you.

“Oh my God Mel fuckkk” you screamed feeling how easily her fingers entered you. Melissa started moving them at an excruciatingly slow pace. As if you needed any time to adjust given how wet you were, she was just teasing. 

Seeing how desperate you were, starting to move your hips to get more friction, your girlfriend got the hint and picked up her pace. Wet sounds and moans filling the room as her pace fastened more and more. 

You were already getting close when you suddenly felt Melissa slipping her fingers out of you. Crying at the loss you shot her a pouty frustrated look, just to see her getting up on her knees and centering herself  between your legs.

You started to internally panic a little bit. You were aroused as fuck but this was still something new for you. As if reading your mind, your girlfriend looked at you. Her glance holding a warmth that would otherwise be out of character in a not so new situation. You gave her a silent nod and bit your bottom lip in anticipation, worry and arousal. 

Just a few seconds later you felt the tip of her cock sliding through your folds, stopping just above your clit. You moan, still biting your lip,  and your hips start moving again. 

She slides her cock up and down your pussy a few times to spread your wetness around and on her cock, before finally aligning herself to your entrance. You prop yourself up on your elbows just in time to see the tip disappear between your folds. 

“Am I hurting you baby?” Melissa checks in running her left hand across your thigh.

“No, please keep going Mel, I need more.” you cry out almost ashamed at your neediness. Melissa’s worried expression turning into a satisfied and mischievous one. 

In one swift motion she fills you up completely. You are surprised at how this is not hurting at all, you truly are that wet for her. Not that you doubted it. 

With her eyes fixated on yours, Melissa starts moving. Her hands are on your hips as she pulls out almost completely before sliding back in. She does that a few times before picking up her pace and setting a nice rythm, which is unfortunately not enough for you at the moment. 

“Fuck Mel, more! Fuck me harder baby please!” you cry out trying to reach for her thighs, your nails scraping the sheets. 

You whimper and moan at the sudden loss when a few seconds later you don’t feel her cock inside of you anymore. You look at her just in time to see drops of saliva dripping down her lips and feel them landing on your clit.

You feel every organ you have dropping, not just your stomach. “M-Melissa did you just-“

“Spit on your pretty cunt? Yes I did, why?”

“It-it’s just s-” that’s how little you manage to say between moans before she starts spreading it across your pussy with her cock. 

“It’s just so what baby?” She’s looking at you with a lustful grin and deep dark eyes. She bites her bottom lip waiting for your answer while she keeps sliding her cock over your wet pussy. 

“It’s just so hot.” you moan starting to move your hips again . “Please Mel, fuck me.” you’re basically crying out now and her eyes turn even darker. 

Without you even realizing, she suddenly slams her cock back into you, full lenght sliding in even more easily than before. She starts pounding you at a deliciously atrocious rythm. The sound of her hips colliding with your inner thighs fills the room and makes you both wetter. 

“You like feeling me deep inside you, filling you up? Mh?” her voice cuts through your bliss and you just close your eyes to try and not come on the spot. 

“Mmm fuck … fuck … yes! Yes I do, please don’t stop!” 

“I want you to look at me, open your eyes. Now.” The emphasis she puts on that last word made you quiver and you instantly opened your eyes. 

You couldn’t avoid looking down at where her cock was disappearing inside of you and coming out glistening, just to be slammed back in. Again and again. 

The rythm she was keeping, the sounds echoing through the room, her beautiful boobs bouncing at her every movement and her eyes never leaving yours. Everything was building up inside of you and you felt so close. 

Your moans and your breathing were frantic now. One hand gripping the sheets and the other gripping the strap’s leather belt across one of Melissa’s hips. 

She knew you were close as she bent forward to kiss you hard. It was a very sloppy kiss, tongues swirling in between moans and pantings. She placed her hands on both sides of your head with her perfectly sharp white nails gripping the sheets. You scratched down her back with both hands making her arch and hit a spot inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

She was looking down at you, red curls falling all around you as you placed both your hands on her hips gripping the leather harness so tight “I-I think … I’m going to.. c-come” you cried out looking at her, pleading with your eyes.

Her hips were on autopilot, pounding into you with an animalistic rythm. “Ask nicely bimba (baby girl).” she whispered with a smirk plastered on her lips.

At this point you just couldn’t talk anymore. You felt so full and intoxicated by everything she was doing to you. You knew you couldn’t come without her permission though. So you took one last glance at her cock going in and out of you so quickly “Mel please PLEASE let come on you cock, please I can’t take it anymore!” was the pathetic cry that managed to escape your lips. 

She smiles down at you before swinging her hair to one side with a swift motion of her head, just a second before you feel her right arm slipping between your bodies. Her hand reaches  your clit while she starts thrusting into you even harder. You weren’t excepting that, you didn’t think for one split second her rythm could actually increase even more than it had. 

Her fingers start drawing fast circles on your clit and your legs start to shake. “Come for mama pretty girl.” with that permission you just moan loudly and let go. You see black and feel your pussy clenching around Melissa’s cock as one of the most powerful orgasms you ever experienced rushes through you. 

Yet she doesn’t stop. She gradually reduced her thrusting rythm to accompany you down your high. Not stopping even when you reopen your eyes, flustered and panting. Now going deadly slow, she starts feather kissing your face before connecting your lips in a long passionate kiss. Her movements now come to a stop but you both moan loudly into the kiss as her cock is still inside of you. 

“I’m going to pull out now, please relax for me baby, you did so good.” She says before giving you a kiss on the cheek, lifting herself up and pulling her cock out of you. She removes the harness and places everything at the end of the bed before coming to lie down next to you. 

She perks up on her left elbow and starts tracing figures on your abdomen with her right hand. Sharp nails causing you to have goosebumps all over. You turn to place your left hand behind her neck, pulling her into a loving kiss. You scarpe the back of her head, slightly pulling on messy red curls, while you kiss her passionately hoping all the love you feel for her will be felt through that kiss. 

She kisses you back with the same intensity, making you feel all the love in this world. You part after a while because you smiled into the kiss and Melissa is now looking at you with an amused and puzzled expression. So you also perk up on your elbow, to be directly in front of her and look her straight in the eyes. 

“I never thought I’d let anyone have me like that, let alone enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you for wanting to try this with me. You’re the only person I’ve ever trusted enough or wanted to try this with.” 

Taken aback by your words, her mouth hangs slightly open for a few seconds. Her eyes light up with tenderness and emotions most people wouldn’t imagine Melissa capable of showing. 

“Thank you for trusting me with this and for allowing me to see you like that. You’re incredibly beautiful amore mio (my love).” Melissa says before closing the few inches separating your mouths. And in that kiss you both feel how special your love is. 

You stay a bit like that, lying naked with your lips on her forehead and her face resting on your chest. Bodies intertwined as you slowly drift into sleep grateful for the amazing girlfriend life put on your path. 

[bokettochild]

🎶For the twelfth day of Christmas, my Ketto gave to me-🎶

Closure!!!!!

So, I've been talking about this for a fair bit now and debating the logistics, and I have decided to do it: A Christmas of Closure!

I have so many unfinished/on hiatus fics, some that never got past the first part, and this is my effort to (1) relieve myself of the guilt of not finishing them and (2) give a bit of closure to the readers who still wanted more from the story.

How does it work? You guys can choose any story of mine that you wanted to see more of, and the first twelve will get a little love this holiday season, with me posting one update every day leading up to Christmas, and ending on Christmas day with either whatever I was most excited to share, or what took me the longest and I needed more time for LOL

They key to this is that it's stories I've already started, so rather than spending half my writing time trying to figure out what it's going to be about, I'll hopefully just be giving words to something that's sat in my brain for the last few months/years. I'll get to share with you what was supposed to happen, while maybe jump-starting my own creative process so maybe (no promises) I'll actually be able to finish the story! (Again, NO promises, but also I hope so!!!)

(Specifics below)

All stories are on the table with the exception of TBBU, since that's already a work in progress and I will get there independently (*she lied, like a liar*). There might be others that have reached their natural end as well, and I'm not up to making zombies, but I can't name any right off, so go nuts and choose whatever you feel has been on life support for too long :)

Whumptober/Sicktember/Febuwhump prompts are up from grabs, but only in the form of continuations of already written pieces. I will not be writing prompts that I failed to post on time in this challenge (maybe another time)

The age of the fic doesn't matter, but be aware I might not be able to capture the same voice as I used to use. My writing style has changed and developed, but I will try and match my own freak when I can.

You CAN ask for specific things! I will not take unkindly to you popping in to say "write an update for story XYZ and maybe have ABC happen?" I can't promise that ABC will happen of course, because maybe that's not what was meant to happen, but I promise to consider any and all suggestions regardless, and try and make a Christmas present that you'll enjoy :)

The stories will get posted starting on the 14th of December and ending on December 25. There will not be an Ao3 collection, but I will have a master-list here on tumblr.

I hope that covers everything, but if you have any questions I didn't answer, please feel free to send an ask, so I can answer publicly, in the case others had the same question <3

[allisonreader]

This is where I currently am with my rewrite of Tales Of A Frozen Sailor. Just right at the beginning essentially. No one knows who Jesse Hudson actually is, but soon some new information is soon to come to light.

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[monzabee]

diet pepsi - ln4 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument. 

Pairing: lando norris x fwb!reader 

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: kinda cute ass fighting so fluff??, sex in a car, fingering, penetration, manhandling, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!!), cursing, minords dni!! 

Request: “okay but what about good old car sex with lando pleaseeee” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, who knew addison rae had the power to make a song that made me write this whole thing under 3 hours?? i certainly did not. secondly, i thought it would be nice to take a little break from the charles-carlos drama, and before i finish the third and final part to that little mini-series, i thought you guys would enjoy a little treat in the meantime! i have to admit writing for lando again was an interesting experience for me, but who knows, maybe i'll do it more often (i have one request that i'm obsessed with so that’s definitely coming your way as well!) also, i have an oscar fic in the works as well, so maybe the sudden change in mclaren also started to affect me lol. a quick psa, i know many people asked me in my last fic, but i do NOT have a taglist and i won’t be making one any time soon either! anywaaays, i hope you guys enjoy this fic, and feedback is welcome as always! thank you to the anon for their request, and good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking that in my car.” Lando complains, shooting you a sideway glare as you sip your choice of beverage contently.  

You tilt the cup slightly in his direction, grinning. “Relax, it’s not like it’s going to explode, nor it is your car.” 

“It might as well,” Lando mutters, eyes back on the road. “Knowing your luck, the second I hit a bump, that thing will be all over the place and I’ll have to explain what happened to Zak. Do you even know how much it costs to clean these seats?” 

You laugh, swirling the drink in the cup. “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like you are the one to detail the cars you use. It’s fine, I’ve got this under control.” 

“Famous last words,” Lando grumbles. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as if he’s preparing for impact. 

You glance at him, amused. “Are you always this paranoid about your car, or is it just me?” 

“It’s you. Definitely you.” He shoots you another look, this one laced with mock suspicion. “You have a history, you know.” 

“Oh, puh-lease,” you drawl, rolling your eyes as you turn your upper body to face him. “Tell me one time I actually made a mess in your car, and I’ll throw away this can right now.” 

Lando doesn't hesitate as he answers quickly. “Monaco. Last year. You remember that smoothie incident, right?” 

You blink a couple of times, taken aback. “That doesn’t count! That was your fault for speeding around the corner like a maniac. How was I supposed to hold on to it?” 

He smirks, clearly enjoying the memory. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh? You were the one who insisted on bringing a smoothie into my car five minutes before a race.” 

“You didn’t even have to brake so hard,” you mutter, crossing your arms defensively. “I had it under control until you decided to turn it into a F1 race.” 

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter. I still won, throw it away now.” 

“That doesn’t count, it was clearly your fault!” You complain, holding the can protectively. “There’s no way I’m tossing this because of your bad driving.” 

Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Bad driving? I think I’d take that up with the people who hired me to race professionally.” 

“Professionally doesn’t mean you’re not reckless,” you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. “Especially when there’s a smoothie involved.”  

“Fine,” he contends, shrugging, “how about that time I made you come too hard, and you leaked onto the seats?”  

This manages to shut you down for a moment, with eyes nearly bulging out of your head, you gasp at Lando’s sudden choice of words. “Lando!” You exclaim, reaching over the console to hit him on the arm gently, “That’s vulgar!” 

Silently chuckling at your reaction, he reaches over as he places a hand on your upper thigh, his hand tightening as you hold his wrist in warning. “It’s the truth,” he reminds you with a smirk, “don’t go shy on me, now, you were the one to get the seats all messed up because of how wet you were.” If you weren’t blushing before, your face most definitely resembles a tomato now as he continues his stream of consciousness, “Not that I’m complaining, though, I’m pretty sure I came in my pants when I made you cum just from my fingers.”  

 “You– you did?” The question flies from your mouth before you can stop yourself.  

The smile that overtakes the smirk on Lando’s face is almost sweet, and he coos at the innocence of your question as he squeezes your thigh again. “Oh baby,” he coos, “it was the hottest thing ever.”  

Your thighs attempt to trap his hand as you inadvertently press them tighter together, your nose scrunching up in confusion. “But it was messy.”  

“That was the best part,” Lando confirms, his thumb caressing your skin. “I loved getting to clean you up afterwards, didn’t I? Almost as much as you loved it.” 

“Sure.” You mumble, shrugging as you do your best to ignore his burning stare. You’d be worried about the fact that he was supposed to be driving if it was someone else, but considering he’s a F1 driver, you don’t comment on Lando’s lack of his surroundings as he pushes your thighs apart. “What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he moves his fingers further up your skirt.  

“You just focus on finishing that drink, okay?” He mumbles as his fingers pull your underwear to the side. “I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet myself.”  

“Lando, I don’t think we should do th–hat.” Your voice waivers towards the end as his fingertips press on your clit, drawing lax circles on the bundle of nerves. “Lando,” you try to warn him, but your voice comes out as a high-pitched whimper.  

He shushes you gently as his fingers spread your wetness around your skin, causing you to bite down on your lip to silence yourself. Lando lets his dissent known by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling, “Don’t silence yourself, let me hear you, baby.” And when you give him what he wants and let out a loud moan as your hips involuntarily buck against his hand. Grinding the palm of his hand against your puffy clit, Lando uses your wetness to slowly push two of his fingers into you, drawing out another moan as you lean your head against the headrest. “My God, baby, look at you. You’re already making a mess on the seats.”  

“N-no,” you manage to whine, shaking your head as you give him a pleading but stubborn look, “I’m not making a mess.”  

“No?” He asks, mocking the pout that has found its way onto your lips. “Then who is so wet against my hand that it’s dripping, huh?” You're not sure if it’s his words or the way his fingers keep moving in and out of your cunt, but in either case, the overwhelming need of just something more causes you to attempt to put the can in your hand down, when Lando tuts again in warning, “You don’t get to put your drink down until you first come on my fingers.” 

After his words set in, you finally come to your senses, suddenly opening your eyes as you give him a shocked look. “Wha–what?” You ask, “What if I spill?” 

He shrugs, an innocent smile on his lips as he throws you a glance, “I guess you’ll just have to be careful and not spill it.” The smile on his lips grows as you let out a frustrated sound, and he responds by moving his fingers in a come-hither motion to git the spot, which causes your body to arch into his touch. “Are you going to give me what I want?” He asks, his concentration still on the road as he tries to find a secluded spot to park the car.  

“Uh-huh,” you mutter, voice shaky as you focus on not dropping the can in your hand, “I will, Lando, just keep doing that.”  

“Doing what?” He asks in a faux-innocent tone, as he goes back to simply continuing the pistoning movement of his fingers. “Like this?” He asks, with a shit eating grin on his face as you whine. “Or, like this?” He asks again, but this time, he repeats the movement of his fingers previously as he hits your g-spot again.  

You can’t control the scream that gets released from the back of your throat as your body shakes violently. “That,” you breathe out, your free hand holding onto the seatbelt so tight that you can feel it starting to cramp your hand a little bit, “don’t you dare stop doing that.” 

Lando lets out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with your desperate plea. His fingers continue their relentless pace, teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet commanding. “Not until you give me what I want.” 

Your entire body feels like it's on fire, the combination of his skilled fingers and the impossible task of not spilling your drink has you teetering on the edge. The car feels smaller, the world outside irrelevant, as Lando’s attention is focused solely on you. Being so consumed by the way Lando’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, you don’t even know that the car you are in at the moment has been abandoned in the side of a deserted road. You grip the can tighter, your hand trembling as the tension builds in your core. “Lando,” you gasp, a hint of desperation seeping into your voice. “I— I can't—” 

He smirks, enjoying your struggle. “You can,” he counters smoothly, leaning slightly closer while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “You can do it, just let it go, baby.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, drawing another loud moan from your lips. 

“Lando, please,” you beg, your voice almost cracking under the weight of your impending release. “I’m going to—” 

“Good,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening. “Let go for me, baby. And don't you dare spill that drink." 

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 

You hear Lando’s satisfied chuckle as he eases his fingers out of you, giving your thigh one last affectionate squeeze. “Good girl,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a proud smile. “Look at how good you look.” He shamelessly holds his fingers in front of your face, then without missing a beat, he brings his fingers into his mouth. The way he moans is nothing short of sinful, and you watch him with your lips parted as he mumbles around his fingers, “I think you spilled it a little bit.” 

“E-Excuse me?” You stutter, looking at Lando with the horrified look on your face. “No, I didn’t!” 

Lando raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he glances down at the mess on the seat. “Oh, but you did,” he teases, licking his lips after savoring the taste of you on his fingers. His eyes gleam with amusement as he points at the spot between your legs. “Not the drink, though… you.” 

Your face burns with a mix of embarrassment and desire, your breath still uneven as you try to process what just happened. “That’s not what I—” you stammer, crossing your arms over your chest, but Lando just laughs softly. 

“Relax, love. It’s nothing a little cleaning can’t fix.” He leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving you, his hand returning to the steering wheel like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Besides, I’d much rather clean you up later.” 

You feel the heat spread through your body again, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel a wave of arousal wash over you. Lando’s confidence, the way he handles you with such ease, is almost intoxicating. But as much as you’re enjoying the moment, a small part of you knows this is ridiculous. 

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, trying to regain some composure, though your flushed cheeks give you away. 

Lando just grins, completely unbothered. “You love it,” he says casually, shooting you another one of those playful sideway glances that makes your heart race. “Admit it. You like when I make you lose control.” 

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to throw a retort his way. But you can’t deny it, not after the way your body reacted to his touch. “You’re lucky you’re good at this,” you finally concede, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Lando’s smile softens, just for a moment. “Good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. Then he pulls the car to a stop, turning off the engine before leaning toward you, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “And I’m just getting started.” 

[witchywcmans]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ laios can't seem to get enough after he first tastes you. but the lines in your friendship are beginning to blur. it's only when your party happens upon your ex-lover in the dungeon that laios realizes what he should've communicated all along. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ cunnilingus, praise, size kink, jealousy, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, laios and reader are not good with communication (but they work it out v well), laios is self concious but reader is so kind to him !!, monster facts as dirty talk. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 4.8k

song inspiration ━━ awkward, sza / cherry, lana del rey / hunger, florence + the machine

author's note ━━ TECHNICALLY, this could be a part 2 to please, eat, so I'm just going to link as a part 2. you don't have to read please, eat before this, but if you like laios then obvi you should read it anyway!! I'm SO SORRY it took me so long to post another laios x reader 😭 I was trying to finish the manga before I wrote something else dungeon meshi-related, but life gets the way. oh well. also, this might be controversial, but in this fic I’m refuting the “laios is a virgin” allegations. SUE ME. I simply don’t believe he’s been adventuring so long and hasn’t been with anyone, that is crazzzy to me !! but that's just me 🤗 we all have our fave headcanons! my goal when I finish the manga is to write something for laios at the end of the story hehe. I hope you guys enjoy part 2! this one-shot is dedicated to @satoogojos 🫶

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

Catching feelings for your friend was truly a fickle thing. But you guessed it was bound to happen with what you and Laios were doing behind everyone’s back. Each night, after your party tucked themselves in their bedrolls, Laios would so delicately lace your arm through his and you two would find a private area … before he completely buried his face between your thighs.

He was fixated on the way you tasted, the way he could get you to cum so easily on his tongue. You were the only dessert he wanted after every dinner. Some nights, he would have you writhing from overstimulation, but he just wanted more of you – so much more.

It was a little confusing, though, how he didn’t ask for anything in return. Laios seemed to grind against the cold, dungeon floor as his tongue lapped at your essence, sometimes cumming in his pants and moaning between your legs. Or he would politely excuse himself after he was done, taking care of himself as you cleaned yourself up. You didn’t quite understand it, and maybe neither did he. You both were just too awkward to broach the subject.

The incident with the sea serpent had changed your friendship forever. Not only did Laios save you from becoming one, but the intimacy you both now shared seemed to open you up more. You found yourself divulging more secrets to him, leaning on him when you needed someone, even being more impartial to Senshi’s monster meals. And you liked the way he smiled, how he looked at you. You liked how fearless he was. You liked how protective he was over the party, especially you. You … really liked him. Far more than a crush. In fact, you wished you could go back in time and just have a crush. But your feelings for him became deeper as you crept lower and lower into the dungeon together. Your goal was still to come out of this dungeon alive, but now … you hoped that you would make it out alive together.

What a foolish girl you had become.

You tried to remain focused on the path ahead of you, but you were clearly lost in thought today. The party had reached floor 6, which meant you were closer and closer to the deepest part of the dungeon and hopefully rescuing Laios’ sister, Falin. The last thing you expected to see on floor 6 were other adventurers, let alone your ex.

You were hesitant to call him an ex, since you two had never really been anything but a warm body in each other’s beds while living on the surface. But when your bodies collided and your eyes met his, you realized why you had taken a liking to him in the first place. He had been a butcher’s son, handy with an axe, and you had liked his big, strong hands. You almost fell right into him from the slippery dungeon floor, but those strong hands seemed to catch you like you were made of air. “It’s you,” he chuckled, setting you up straight and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Look at you … feels like it was just yesterday when we were on the surface, huh?”

Marcille looked like she didn’t want anything to do with your ex and his party, but Senshi was very kind to offer them food, if they needed it. Chilchuck seemed neutral, and Laios … you still couldn’t read Laios as easily as the rest of the party. He watched your ex like a hawk, standing behind you as if to protect you. Your ex’s hands were big, sure, but Laios was tall, his shoulders wide and intimidating even without the armor. Laios narrowed his eyes slightly whenever he saw your ex’s gaze roam over you, like he was undressing you with his eyes. And you weren’t sure if you caught it – it only lasted a second – but did Laios clench his hands into fists?

There wasn’t enough time in the world to dwell on it. Especially when you had ghosts seemingly pulling you into another area of the dungeon and waking up on a dirt path, a beautiful golden castle mounted ahead of you. Your party was initially confused, walking into the village and seeing monsters living harmoniously with humans. After becoming acquainted with the village, you and your friends were offered a warm, delicious meal with Yaad, the lord of the Golden Country. After Yaad explained the history of this village, you all were each given rooms to rest in for the night. The beds were small and cold, but far better than a bedroll.

You were used to Laios initiating with you every night, but by the time everyone went to sleep, he still didn’t call upon you. So you stood from your bed, adjusting the nightgown given to you, and walked across the hall to where Laios’ room was. You knocked on his door, and you heard the slip of a sword into a sheath behind the thin wood. He had been inspecting Kensuke for some reason, probably mulling over Yaad’s words. When he opened the door, he was dressed in loose pants and a linen shirt, droplets running down his neck. He must’ve just bathed. You couldn’t stop yourself from digging your nails into your palm.

“Can I come in?” You asked in a hushed voice, and he moved out of the way for you to step inside.

His room looked exactly like yours, but the sheets were ruffled from lack of sleep. Laios walked around you and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving you more confused than ever. You played with your hands as you stared at him, contemplating. “Is something wrong, Laios?” You inquired, stepping closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird even before we got here.”

His brow furrowed for a moment. “How do you figure?”

“Well, you …” Your tongue clicked. “You didn’t come to find me after everyone went to bed.”

He seemed to concede, shoulders dipping at your answer. Shifting on the mattress, he propped himself up against his pillows and moved Kensuke to lean against the wall. His silence was even more perplexing. This had to be the longest time Laios went without talking. He was a blabbermouth.

“I don’t understand,” you continued, walking over and sitting on the end of his bed. “Are you ��� are you angry with me?”

“No, no,” Laios was quick to reply, “I’m not angry with you. I’m just …”

You raised a brow, eager to hear his answer.

“That man you recognized. On floor 6,” he finally said, his fists clenching again at the memory. “I didn’t … I didn’t like the way he looked at you. And his tone. It was disrespectful to you. Unless I’m reading this all wrong.”

You were taken aback by his honesty. So he had been bothered by your ex. “Oh,” you replied, “well … me and him, we do have history, Laios. But it’s in the past.”

“I could tell.” He was picking at his nails now, any excuse not to meet your eyes. “Everyone has a life before the dungeon. It’s not about the past. I just … I didn’t like him. Or how he looked at you like … like he still wanted you. Or something.”

“Or something,” you repeated, nodding your head. A slow smile crept onto your lips at the realization. “Laios, are you jealous?”

His head jolted up, his eyes glued to his hands, searching for something unknown. Realization washed over his face, as if he hadn’t even considered this possibility. “Oh, gods,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “This whole day I’ve been trying to reconcile with what I’m feeling and I knew I wasn’t mad at you – maybe just mad at the circumstances – and none of it made sense, but now …” He finally met your eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I was just jealous. How did I not realize?”

“Maybe because we didn’t talk about it,” you offered in a low voice, reaching out and lacing your fingers with his. A jolt of electricity ran through your fingertips and all the way up your arm. You wished you could hide your reaction, but it was clear as day, making Laios shift in his spot. “Laios, we should talk –”

“You’re not leaving the party, are you?” His grip on your fingers went tight, and he didn’t even realize it.

“No,” you laughed, scooting closer and running your free hand over his face. His cheeks flushed instantly when you touched him. “I think … we should talk about what’s happening between us.”

Laios’ gaze went narrow as he processed your words. “Oh,” he said blankly, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“I just … because we’ve been doing this every night … it’s hard not to feel …” You sighed, unable to get the words right. But he seemed to understand, quick-witted as ever, squeezing your hand in encouragement. And then he smiled at you, all dopey and kind, and your heart began to pound. “I can’t help but think that the lines are being blurred between us. My feelings for you are … much deeper than what they were initially. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I needed you to know. I’m sorry if this hurts … whatever our relationship is.”

He was still smiling, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you even closer. “Well, I think –”

“And now I can’t help but wonder if maybe – just maybe – you feel the same way,” you started rambling, terrified to know how he was going to reply. “Because why would you feel jealous if you didn’t … I shouldn’t make assumptions. But I still wondered. And I can’t stop talking. Again, I don’t want this to ruin anything and I’m sorry if it does. My ex doesn’t mean anything to me anymore and he won’t ever again –”

Out of nowhere, Laios used his upper body strength to flip you onto your back, pinning you to the bed. Now your cheeks were flushed, completely caught off guard by the action. He sat in between your legs, his fingers just brushing over your waist, as he said, “I do. Feel the same. I feel like I’m the one who could’ve ruined this because I didn’t realize it sooner.”

You gave him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his chin. “You couldn’t ruin anything.”

He leaned into your palm when your hand moved to his cheek, humming under his breath. He then leaned down, his body just barely pressing against yours, as if he craved your body heat. Like a moth to a flame.

“Can we not talk about your ex ever again?” He muttered, his hands running up and down your sides. “Because when I saw him today, all I could think about was …” He stopped himself abruptly.

“What?” Your curiosity peaked.

“I’m going to sound like a jealous brute,” he sighed dramatically, nose brushing against yours as his hands moved higher, thumbs grazing over the underside of your breasts. The material of your nightgown was so thin that your peaked nipples were already visible. “I just … couldn’t stop thinking about all the times I’ve tasted you that he hasn’t. I wondered if he knew exactly how you liked it, which places made those funny sounds come out of your mouth. And then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and all I wanted this whole day was to get you alone.”

You shuddered when his thumb brushed over one of your taut nipples, making your heel run down the back of his leg. His words alone made tingles run down your spine, but the second his hands were on you, you were properly soaked. The both of you lay there for a moment: him on top of you, nuzzling your nose, rolling his fingers over your nipples through your nightgown, eliciting breath hitches from your lips.

It was so slow, so patient, so good, but had you wanting more. And you couldn’t stop the words coming out when you blurted, “I want to have sex.”

He paused, opening his eyes for a moment, making sure he heard you properly.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said quickly, feeling awkward. But why were you so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like he didn’t have his tongue deep inside your pussy every night. Maybe it was because there was a question still lying underneath the surface. “Why ... why don’t you want me to help you finish after you eat me out? Sometimes you just … walk away to take care of yourself.”

Laios’ face went bright red, and then he buried his face in your neck. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Your hand pushed back his cropped, blonde hair, trying to soothe his racing heart. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because it’s … it’s big,” he sighed and lifted his head. “There. I said it. It’s just big. And the last person who saw it made me feel super self-conscious about it.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re embarrassed because you have a big dick?”

His pretty golden eyes were serious, but it looked like he wanted to laugh with you. “Please, don’t make it sound trivial.”

“It’s not trivial, it’s just …” You went to cup both his cheeks. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you ever experienced. You wondered why it took you so long to realize he felt the same. “I would never make you feel self-conscious about anything. I like everything about you, Laios.”

Your words had him melting, leaning back down into you and kissing you slowly. It was only when his tongue slipped into your mouth that his hand snaked down between your legs, just cupping your soaked entrance, the one thing he loved to eat more cheesecake. Realizing that you weren’t wearing any underwear had him reeling. “Gods …” He moaned into the kiss, his fingers simply running down your soaked folds.

As his lips broke away from yours, you asked in a tone as sweet as barometz, “Do you want to have sex, Laios?”

“Yes,” he replied, voice desperate. “Yes, please.”

Your hands went to the hem of his loose, linen shirt, breaking your kiss again to lift it over his head. For the first time, you were able to see what he looked like underneath all the armor. His shoulders were wide-set, his torso soft while also being oddly defined. Most tall-men your party encountered thought Laios was on the slender side, not believing how strong he was. But once your eyes beheld his biceps, you knew how wrong they all were. He was built and muscular and – gods, you could admire him for hours.

Laios stopped your hands from going any further, a pleading look in his eyes. He pushed your nightgown up and bunched it at the waist. “Can I taste you first?”

You nodded quickly, already intoxicated by the way he kissed you, the way he smiled at you, all eager and excited to bury his face in your pussy. It didn’t take him long; he was lightning fast, moving down your body and lifting your legs on his shoulders so he could eat you out easier. His tongue dove into your folds immediately, and he groaned at the first taste. You were acutely more aware every night that he could do this for hours, just lapping at you lazily, bringing you to orgasm over and over again. No monster compared to the way you tasted.

His nose bumped your clit as he tongued your leaking hole, practically whimpering at every drop of your wetness that reached his mouth. Large, calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, making sure they didn’t close and digging into your flesh. Your own hands fisted into the sheets, your ass lifted off the bed, but you could still grind your hips against his face. Soft whines left your lips, nothing compared to the groans Laios was making as he ate you like he didn’t have a three-course meal just an hour ago. You almost wondered if you should tell him to quiet down, afraid of the others hearing, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care.

It was clear to you the closer you got to reaching your peak that Laios wasn’t keen on stopping. And as much as you truly wanted to cum all over his tongue, you thought it was important that you both have this new experience together. It took you a few seconds to finally gather the courage to say something, his tongue feeling too good as he swirled it around your sensitive clit. “Laios,” you called, and then a little louder, “Laios.”

He lifted his head, your juices dripping down his chin. A primal urge made him want to dive back into you, but he controlled himself. His tongue licked at your essence around his mouth, and you shuddered at the sight.

“I want you inside me,” you whispered. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he muttered hoarsely, placing your legs so delicately back on the bed, as if they were made of glass. “Of course.” He so desperately wanted to taste you again, but he was even more excited for this, to finally feel something other than his hand wrapped around his cock. You were the first person he ever tasted, but it had been quite a while since he was truly intimate with someone, to slide into someone and feel them clench around him.

As you tugged off your nightgown, Laios began to work at the ties of his pants. But his hands stopped as they came undone, glancing up at you with hesitation. You looked so pretty sitting in the middle of his bed, waiting for him, naked and vulnerable. He felt silly for feeling so self-conscious, especially when you were so beautiful like this.

“Laios,” you cooed, caressing his arm, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if you don’t want to, then we can stop.”

He almost choked on a laugh. “Trust me,” he replied, “I want to.”

After another beat of stalling, Laios finally stepped out of his bottoms and blushed pink from ear to ear. His cock was … well, it certainly was big. You sympathized with him; if anyone told you something about your body during sex, you would focus on that forever. But there was nothing for him to be embarrassed about. Truthfully, most males would kill to have what he did. His cock was thick and long, a few veins trailing down the shaft, curving up at his pretty red tip that was dripping with precum. You got even more wet just from staring at it, wondering what he would finally feel like inside of you. 

Your mouth opened to say something, anything to make him feel better, but he was already talking: “I need a distraction so I don’t think about you staring at it.” He crawled back onto the bed and between your thighs, immediately pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself still on his mouth, and your arms wound around his shoulders instantly. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip, and he asked, “Can I just … ramble about monster facts for a minute?”

You blinked, not expecting that. Laios released your lower lip and sighed, clearly still nervous. “It’ll help me get over this feeling. I swear. Or if you want to stop this, we can. I’ll … I’ll understand –”

“Laios,” you huffed, your mouth pulling back into a sweet smile, “I want you to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he muttered, nuzzling his face back into your neck, placing sloppy kisses. “Did you know that … that harpies almost exclusively have the head of a female human and it is unknown if male harpies exist?”

His voice was muffled against your neck, but you could tell he was desperate and aching. You felt his hard length against your stomach, smearing precum on the exposed skin. “Really?” You breathed out, trying to engage with him but completely failing when he licked a stripe up your neck. A moan escaped your lips.

“There’s also … there’s, uh …” He was struggling to talk now, grasping his cock and giving it a few quick pumps before teasing the head against your dripping wet folds. Your legs instinctively opened wider for him, hoping to whatever gods were out there that you could take his cock. “There also exists a seabird variant of harpies called … called, Sirens. Their wings and  … their – their tail look like a seagull’s.”

You could hardly breathe as you asked, “What else, Laios?”

He began to push inside you slowly, letting you adjust with each inch. “Okay, okay … uh … bicorns … bicorns hate – oh, fuck.” Just the feeling of your tight warmth wrapped around his cock had him biting into your shoulder, like you were the forbidden fruit. He could hardly string together a word, could hardly think, as he sank deeper and deeper into you, his whole body shaking. “Bicorns hate … hate virtue. They prefer – shit – immorality. It is believed that … doing all seven deadly sins will … will allow an individual to approach a bicorn – fuck. Fuck. It feels –”

When he was finally buried to the hilt, all he could do was breathe into your neck. You whined, locking your legs around his waist. The stretch was unbelievable; your walls gripped him like a vice. But it was even better than you could’ve imagined. If you had thought originally that the night would go this way, you would’ve at least brushed your hair. Laios didn’t care though, inhaling the flowery scent as he nosed your pretty strands. You couldn’t even comprehend – whether it be from the stretch of his thick cock inside you or the overwhelming amount of butterflies in your stomach – how you were so lucky to have found him.

Not to mention, you felt even luckier that this wasn’t happening on a cold dungeon floor.

With one hand carding into his hair, you chuckled under your breath, “Had enough of reciting monster facts?”

“Mmhmm …” He groaned, unable to form a sentence. You finally felt him pull back before pushing into you in one fast, deep thrust, making you shiver. Your body was hardly used to feeling this full, but you wanted him so badly that it was humiliating, a pink blush tinting your nose. “You feel so good,” he muttered.

You pulled on his hair, and his head lifted from your neck. His lips were swollen from kissing you. Yours probably looked the same. But that didn’t matter right now as he held your gaze and began thrusting into you a little faster. His eyes were the color of melted gold, flecked with amber and brown, and you felt like you could stare into them forever while he fucked you. Laios lifted one of your legs higher on his waist, but his other hand stayed around your middle, keeping you nestled against him.

“Laios,” you whimpered, feeling him nudge your clit with each roll of his hips. Despite his desperation, his pace was tender and relaxed, making sure you were adjusting to his size. He knew he was big – clearly, it was something he’d been self-conscious about for a while – but the way you were looking at him right now … he’d never felt more at ease, more special. This was all he ever wanted: to be close to someone like this, to find intimacy with someone he had true feelings for. All the other times had been stepping stones, leading to this moment with you, where your warmth enveloped him so nicely and your gaze made him want to cum on the spot.

His hips began to move a little faster, pushing even deeper inside you, as his mouth swallowed your moans in a hungry kiss. Face going hot, you trembled, and his cock pulsed inside you with each pass. Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades, leaving marks for him to examine later, like a predator with its prey. Goosebumps raised on his skin, feeling himself get closer … and closer … and closer. If you kept digging your nails into him like that, he’d surely lose his grasp on reality. But you just felt so good, so warm, and he craved you. Craved you like you were his last meal.

“Laios,” you croaked out when his lips broke from yours, “Laios, are you close?”

He could hardly say anything else but, “Mm …” 

You thought you could get there by now from his tongue teasing you earlier, but you needed a little more friction. Bumping against your clit wasn’t enough. “Okay, okay,” you rambled, reaching down between your legs to touch yourself. “Just hold off for another minute. I’ll get there.”

Laios opened his eyes, realizing what you were doing, immediately envious of your own hand. “No, let me,” he murmured, voice like honey, and found your clit easily. “Then I can taste you on my fingers after.” His excitement made you laugh, which brought a smile to his own lips.

He shifted a little, pulling back so only his tip rested inside you, and fucked back into you at a different angle, one that brushed against your special spot. The stimulation of both your clit and g-spot had your back arching, whimpers slipping out of your lips like a chant.

“Is … this … better?” He asked, panting after each word.

Your voice was strained when you answered, “Y—Yes.”

His balls slapped against the underside of your ass, and he knew how close he was, but all he cared about at this moment was cumming together. He needed to see that look on your face when you reached your peak. He only got to see it a few times, when he lifted his eyes while tasting you, watching the way your lips parted and sweat ran down your forehead.

His fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit – knowing exactly what you liked – and you were close. So, so close already. Laios had a way of touching you that felt inquisitive, yet effortless. Like he wanted to learn which spots made you moan the loudest, while also already knowing without even touching you. You grew to like him not just because of his dopey grin, his protectiveness, or his positivity, but also for the way he was willing to learn with you, the way he needed you. And right now, he needed you to cum more than anything.

Tension coiled in your lower abdomen, making you gasp out, “Laios – fuck – Laios, I’m gonna –”

“I know, I know,” he rasped. His pace was nearing on brutal, his whole body shaking as he held off his release for you. “Together. We’ll – together.”

And then, your muscles tighten. You clenched around his cock, and it only took one more thrust against your g-spot to have you falling apart underneath him. You put a hand over your mouth as you cried out, careful of the rest of the party hearing. Your eyes rolled back, his fingers stroking your clit through it, and it all just felt too, too good. Your orgasm went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. As your walls spasmed around his cock, he groaned low, finally spilling into you. His hips stuttered. His mouth gasped for air against your lips, as he felt a ripple of relief from emptying himself inside you. He bit into your shoulder again to muffle his own noises. Your pussy convulsed, milking every last drop, and you were pretty sure you saw stars.

Once the aftershocks hit you both, he slumped against you, breathing in the scent of your hair again. Your fingers traced small circles onto his back muscles, your chest rising and falling with the fast beat of your heart. When his cock went soft inside you, his fingers finally left your clit and he brought them to his mouth. Your eyes were half-lidded as you watched him wrap his lips around his fingers and suck the juices off, moaning at the taste. He looked like an intricate painting; you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

His fingers left his mouth with a wet pop, and he whispered in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him, “You just taste so, so good.”

Laios kissed you again, slow and full of affection. You didn’t even care that he was still inside you; you could stay like this forever, pressed into his warm skin. Gods, you liked him so much that you immediately whimpered as his tongue slid into your mouth, and when he shuddered at your fingers on his back … you couldn’t believe you once questioned if he returned your feelings. You had both been so oblivious.

His mouth moved away from yours and he cupped your cheek. He took a moment to memorize the dusting of red across your face, the way your eyes hardly opened after sex, and then said, “Are you hungry? I think we both need a snack. It’s been a long night already.”

You giggled. “You had me at hungry.”

[dinogoofymutated]

You asked for some smut suggestions for Logan, and I got one:

So like…I mean…Logan might be on the short side, but he’s still big! I mean, like,,,those hands 🫣 It would be nice to see a fic to do with Logan and a little manhandling. but not like in a BDSM way, more like a “I am very strong, and here’s a little reminder” type way. Might seem kinda silly but I’d enjoy a fic like that lol.

NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB!Reader Ask and you shall receive!! I've spent like the last four days working on this and atp I can't looks at it anymore lol. I'm not super happy with how the beginning is written, but I still think it's alright enough to post lol. It's a lot more tell than show compared to most of my other fics, and I was halfway tempted to reformat it into headcannons, but I didn't feel like it. Anyway, hope you like the way I included the manhandling lol! Hope it turned out okay :) Also, might or might not be tall logan. I'll leave it up to yall to assume, I'm just short af so there's not a single person in marvel who wouldn't have to look down at me lmao.

Edit:FUCK I FORGOT THE READ MORE! TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Seriously, you will be blocked. Masterbation, lil bit of a scent kink. Sexual frustration. Manhandling. Jealous Logan. Creampie. Logan calls you "sunshine" and pretty and shit. I'll add more if I can think of any.

    You had a problem. You’ve had a problem. And it really didn’t seem like it was getting any better. It didn’t help the fact that it was incredibly embarrassing, either.

    You couldn’t get off. It’s not like you ever struggled with it before, but lately, it felt like you were fighting a losing battle. At first, you didn’t realize why. Maybe it was because you moved into the X-Mansion. Nerves because you’re living somewhere new, right? So you change it up a little. You got comfortable, had a glass of wine or two, and picked up a raunchy book. Yet every time you slipped your hand between your thighs… Running circles around your own clit, trying your best to finger yourself to your finish, you just could never quite hit that peak. It was safe to say you were beyond frustrated.

    Lucky for you, most people didn’t notice. You try your best not to be too uptight or mean, but there are just some things that you can’t quite hide from certain people.

    Logan’s noticed that something is up with you. You can tell he has, seeing the looks on his face, nose scrunched up in a way he’s catching into something that he just can't quite place. You’re assuming it’s your own pheromones, but hey, as long as he doesn’t realize what it is you’ll be fine, right?

    ��Maybe not.

    Eventually, you finally realized why you were having so much trouble getting off. All it took was one training session with Wolverine, and you knew immediately. You weren’t sparring or anything like that, hell, you knew before you even hit the danger room floor. Logan was in a bit of a mood today, although not as grumpy as he can be- and he’s trying to be patient with you. You can tell. But you’re having trouble focusing today- and you have been for a while. He can tell you’re not at 100% just by the way you hold yourself, and spends about 5 minutes watching as you struggle to reset the Danger room panel before he’s finally fed up with it.

    “Jesus fuck. Here, let me do it.” Logan grabs you by the waist, pulling you to his chest with one arm as the other reaches around you to reset the panel. It’s not like you didn’t find him attractive before, but the close contact? The smell of his aftershave and the sound of his voice growling in your ear? 

    oh.

    Oh. 

    You were having trouble getting off because you had a thing for Logan.

    You’re practically stunned when he pulls away, standing there with a flushed face and something rather embarrassing pooling in your underwear for the first time in a while. You had to quickly excuse yourself before you ran the risk of him catching onto anything coming from you. He’s a little confused for a second, but you can hear the sound of his low chuckle as you scramble away.

    First thing you do? Go to the store.

    It's not a random errand. At least, not entirely. You had meant to go out with Storm to grocery shop later this afternoon, but you told her you could really use some time out of the house by yourself, which she completely understood. You had the list and everything, it was only a coincidence that you passed by the cologne section on your way to pick up some toothpaste. The sight made you stop for a minute, the gears grinding in your skull. You spent just a few minutes curiously sampling the bottles until you found one that smelled a bit familiar… Should you? No, that's a bit strange. But really, what was the harm, right? I mean, who would know? 

    So you bought it. You felt a bit embarrassed afterward, knowing what you bought it for, and ended up letting it sit in the drawer of your side table for a good while. Until another desperate attempt at fucking your own brains out, that is. 

    You were sweaty and uncomfortable in your bed, sleep shirt sticking to your skin as you struggled to pump your fingers in and out of your tight cunt. It’s been a while, and it shows. You couldn’t even get your favorite dildo to fit inside of you, only adding to your frustration. Touching your clit hardly helped much, leaving you as unsatisfied as ever. Eventually, you give up, lying there as you sigh to yourself. You turn over in your bed in a huff, halfway temped scream your lungs out into the pillow you bury your face in. Instead, you let out something that sounds more like a whisper than a yell, letting the air in your lungs deflate as you let your feelings out. You roll over onto your side when you’re done, halfway tempted to be done with it entirely and go back to bed when you catch sight of the nightstand drawer, slightly ajar. The amber bottle of liquid stares right at you. 

    You open the drawer some more, picking up the bottle and looking at it as you wonder if you’re actually going to do this. But you’re ridiculously horny, and tired, and you know you’re gonna have trouble falling asleep in the state you’re in- so you end up spraying the smallest amount on your pillow.

    It’s…nice. The pillow is warm from where you had been laying on it, and despite how strong men’s cologne could be, this one isn’t quite so striking. At least, not in the amount that you used. You relax back into your bed, pressing your face into the pillow and laying there for a moment. You start thinking about Logan… His calloused hands running across your skin. How his lips and tongue would feel against your own, trailing down your body to your breast. Your hand trails down to your clit as you imagine it as his own. You imagine him behind you, pressing you to the bed as he growls into your ear. You think about what his happy trail would feel like against you. What his cock would look like, feel like, pressing into you. Your legs twitch and shake as you see stars underneath your eyelids, the scent of Logan hitting all the right parts in your head and going straight to your cunt.

    Holy shit. 

    Your orgasm lasts what feels like forever. Your legs are still shaking as you whimper from oversensitivity and pull your hand away, panting as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t cum that hard since… ever. Maybe the cologne was worth it, after all.

    You felt really good the morning after. You found yourself humming in the shower, more energized at breakfast and morning drills. No one had said anything, but you knew there were a few who were relieved to see you back to your usual self. If anything, the only person you noticed acting very differently around you was Logan. He was more tense than normal. He scowled a lot, spending less time in your presence. You’d strike up a conversation that would only last a few minutes before he would make an excuse and leave. It made you a little disappointed. But you knew him and knew he had good and bad days, so you brushed it off at first. But a week, two weeks- almost a month went by, and still no change. You felt scorned almost, silently rejected by the guy you had finally realized you were practically in love with, and to be honest, the only man who could get you off just by thinking about him- and boy, did you get off while thinking about him. 

    You’ve almost resigned yourself to the fact that Logan wasn’t interested when he corners you one morning. He’s leaning up against the wall of the hallway,  waiting for you when you step out of your room. It makes you jump a little, closing your door quickly behind you, knowing damn well you hadn’t washed your sheets after fucking yourself to the moon and back last night and fully not wanting the smell to hit his nose. All Logan does is narrow his eyes. Shit.

    “Who is he.” He asks you. The question completely derails your train of thought. And you furrow your brow, confused. What was that about?

    “Who is he? Your guy?” He asks again, but it does little to clear up your confusion. You’re halfway wondering if he’s being serious at this point, stepping away from your door as you cross your arms.

    “What?” You ask. Logan huffs when you respond to him, cocking his head at you in a way that's more sarcastic than curious. The way he’s looking at you is doing some things that you don’t think you’d like to admit, eyes narrow and scrutinizing as you struggle to keep eye contact with him.

    “What do you mean? What guy?” You repeat back to him, starting to get a little frustrated. He snorts, rolling his eyes as his scowl lingers. He steps closer, looking down at you from less than a foot away with that angry stare.

    “Don’t play stupid with me, sunshine. I can smell him on you.” You ignore the way the nickname makes you shiver a little bit, too busy shrinking into yourself when you process the extent of his words. Smell. He could smell someone on you. Something. Oh god, this was embarrassing. 

    “Oh! That- It’s not what you're thinking!” You say, face flushed red. You’re flustered beyond belief, doing your best to convince him to leave it be, and it’s not going so well for you.

    “Sure it’s not.” Logan huffs. He starts to take steps forward, closing in on your personal space.

    “It’s not. I can promise you that.” You’re anxiously fiddling with your fingers now, taking a step back for every step he takes. He looked predatory, unlike any time you’ve seen him before. You haven’t even seen him like this in the danger room, even less so on the battlefield. 

    “Just tell me who he is.” Logan is adamant about it, his scowl beginning to turn into a frown. Your back hits your door, kickstarting your heart in surprise. You hadn’t realized he had backed you up so far.

    “I can’t!” You say, in the beginning stages of becoming absolutely exasperated, and already incredibly embarrassed. 

    “Why not!?” Logan Snaps, stopping just inches away from you. You cover your heated face, pressing your palms into your eyes until you see shapes, wanting nothing more than to curl up and die right then and there.

    “Would you just leave it!” You shout, but Logan’s having none of it. 

    “No, I won't!” Logan grabs your wrists and moves them away from your face, holding them in front of your chest with a grip lighter than you might have thought. You groan in utter frustration and mortification, looking him dead in the eyes as your angry mouth starts speaking before your reasonable brain can fully catch up.

    “Jesus Christ Logan! Do you expect me to just whip out the silicone and show you?!” Your eyes widen as soon as you say it, slamming your mouth shut as you finally catch up with yourself. Logan is staring at you in absolute shock, jaw almost slack at the confession. 

    “...What?” He asks, slowly. You wince, looking off to the side before deciding it's a bit too late to get the cat back into the bag.

    “Its… Cologne. What you’re smelling. I use it to uh, help me…” You make a sort of gesture with your head, praying that you won’t actually have to spell it out for him. He’s still in shock as he looks at you, hands frozen with his fingers wrapped around your wrists. He clears his throat when he comes to, an unreadable expression on his face as he slowly steps forward again, close enough to press his forehead against your own as he presses you against your door.

    “You’re that pent up, you need cologne to help you get off?” He asks, and you don’t know what to say, cat catching your tongue as he leans forward. The side of his face brushes against your cheek as he leans down a little, the action making your skin prickle. One of his hands releases a wrist to slide up and across the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side as he takes a big sniff of your skin. He’s practically nuzzling you, angling his head so that he can smell the scent on the back of your head where you rest against your pillow at night. 

    He’d noticed it before, at night when most of his anger had worn off, sometime after he started to pick up the scent on you. The undertones, the top notes. But now with you this close, he can tell that it wasn’t another man he was smelling. No. It was just you. Your scent being drowned out by the smell of something that he could finally tell smelled rather suspiciously like his very own aftershave.

    “...Don’t tell me that you wanted it to smell like me.” He asks after a moment. You almost flinch at the sound of his deep rumble, turning your red face away from him. You swallow, feeling like you are absolutely burning up as you nod- right as Logan catches the unmistakable scent of arousal.

    “Fuck”

    You’re sure the sound was more animal than man as he cups your cheek rather aggressively, pressing his lips against your own in a rather desperate kiss. It takes you a second to return it, eyes wide as you process just what was happening. It didn't take long for you to melt into his desperate kisses though, every nip and brush of his teeth just like you imagined it would be. He presses his knee in between your thighs, finally releasing your other wrist to grab ahold of your hip instead. You accidentally let out a whine when he grinds your hips against him, your heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to explode. He curses again at the sound, both hands sliding around you to lift you against the door.

    You practically squeak in surprise, the noise caught by Logan’s mouth on your own one more time before he trails down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You gasp as he presses against you, his hips beginning to grind against your own. You’re having a hard time thinking, biting your lip as you do your best to stifle your sounds.

    “Logan-ah, can we… head inside, please?” He only grunts in response, shifting your weight as you both begin to fumble for the doorknob. He gets it before you do, hardly stumbling as the door behind you swings open. He’s kissing you again before the door is even closed, kicking it behind him. As preoccupied as you are, you at least have the common sense to reach over and try to lock the door before he carries you over to the bed. 

    He plops you down onto the mattress before he crawls over you, eyes half-lidded and just as lustful as your own. He pushes you down as you try to sit up. His breathing a little hard, pupils dilated to a size you had never seen.

    “Now I know why you closed the door so fast,” Logan smirks, having picked up the lingering scent of your sex on the sheets right away. You open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off. His tongue snakes into your mouth, and you find that you can’t really remember what you were going to say anyway. He kisses you again and again, distracting you as he reaches above your head. He pulls away when he has the pillow in hand, and you know just by the look on his face that he knows exactly what he is holding.

    “Hate to break it to you, but this doesn’t exactly compare to the real thing.” He snarks. It makes you laugh, and for the first time in a while, you see a genuine smile spread across his face. 

    “Yeah.” You respond, taking the pillow from his hands and tossing it to a far-off corner. “I know.” You could revel in his smile for as long as he’d let you. Logan’s kisses start off sweeter this time, at least for a moment they did. They begin to become more and more rough as hands start to wander and clothes start to come off. His shirt is first to go, your hands running up and down the hair that spans his torso. Logan is quick to remove your shirt and bra in one go, one very small step away from cutting off your clothes entirely. He gives himself a minute to appreciate your breasts, pinching and teasing you by sliding a hand up the middle of your sternum, the back of his hand brushing the side of a tit as he watches you squirm underneath him, arching your back to push your chest out, practically begging him to finally touch you.

    “Patience is a virtue, Sunshine.” Logan says, causing you to scoff. You glare at him a little and all it does is make him chuckle a bit. 

    “Don’t be mean.” You whine. He laughs a bit harder as he finally lowers himself to your chest. He keeps his eyes locked on your own as he brushes the blunt ends of his teeth across the soft skin, but he’s never been the most patient man. It doesn't take him long to give in to you, sucking on each breast individually, massaging the soft skin of the opposite as he does so. 

    “Careful.” He growls when your own hands begin to wander, touching him over the fabric of his jeans. He releases your nipple with a pop, bearing his teeth as he presses his face back into your neck. You don't pay much mind to that, rather enjoying the grunts and sounds he makes as you slowly stroke his covered hardness from base to tip. You can't imagine how restrained he must be feeling. You can’t help but smirk a little as your hands drift up and down, before oh So slowly unbuckling his belt. Logan is agitated, practically bucking his hips into your hands to get you to just get over with it. 

    “Patience is a virtue.” You quote, only earning a restraining hold on your hands once again.

    “Fuck that.” Logan growls. He holds you by your wrists, pushing them above your head as he uses his free hand to remove his belt and frantically unbuckle his pants. You'd be complaining if it weren't for the view of his straining cock, slapping against his abdomen as he pulls his pants down. 

    You don't get to stare for too long before he flips you on your stomach like you weigh nothing. He lets your wrists go to pull down your shorts and underwear, a sticky string of your slick thinning as he pulls the items down.

    “Fuck. You're this wet from just that?” Logan asks you, taking two fingers and sliding them through your lips from behind, spreading his fingers to let himself see the mess you've made of yourself already.

    “...shut up.” You mumble, more focused on the feeling of those very same fingers sliding back and forth across your cunt, the tips just barely brushing against your clit every time. Logan chuckles, sliding one hand under your lower stomach to lift your hips with ease. Your hips buck as he slides a thick finger inside of you without warning, slowly sinking down to his knuckle with ease.

    “Might not even need foreplay at this rate.” Logan rumbles behind you, eyes set squarely on the sight of your pretty pussy spread wide open for him. You can only moan in response as he pulls it back out again, plunging a second finger into you this time. Your hands clutch the sheets as Logan begins to finger fuck you to his content, curling those thick digits to hit that one spot juuust right. You try not to buck or squirm too bad, halfway wondering if this is all just some wet dream. 

    “Logan-” You call out for him through your moans. He only hums in reply, preoccupied at the moment.

    “I- god- I need your cock, please.” You're not sure if it was the phrase or the begging, but it makes Logan groan. You feel embarrassingly empty as he pulls his fingers out. You hear the sound of him stroking his hard cock with your slick, groaning and humming to himself before he picks you up. He leans over you, adjusting to you your hands and knees as you finally feel that thick, thick cock grinding against you. You gasp at the way it feels, feeling Logan smirk against your back.

    “Having second thoughts?” The tone of his voice is teasing, but you know there's more than that behind the words. You vehemently shake your head, grinding back against him a little as you protest. Logan swears under his breath, holding onto your hips to keep them still as he sits up.

    Both of you groan each time the head of his cock catches on your clit, Logan thrusting through your lips again and again as he lubes himself with the wetness you provide for him. You gasp when his head catches on your slot, notching just right. 

    Logan pushes into you so slowly, and you feel like he's thicker than you ever imagined he would be. You're impatient, desperate. You push back onto him in an attempt to take him in more, but his hands on your hips stop you.

    “Believe me sweetheart, you don't want that yet.” Logan tells you, straining himself with how tight you feel around him. He soothingly rubs his thumbs against your skin, pressing into you until you have him completely, balls deep inside you. 

    “Please, please. Logan, Please, I need you to move.” Your begging starts to sound like nonsense to your own ears, but it makes Logan gasp all the same, his cock twitching from where it's buried inside of you. You practically cry in relief when he finally begins to thrust Inside of you.

    His hip smack against your ass with every thrust, the sound of the slap mixed with the sounds of your love and the headboard hitting the wall a lewd and filthy symphony. Even better than your own moans were Logan's himself. Each and every groan and growl above you gave you a whole new array of things to imagine while fucking yourself- if you ever had to do so again. 

    You whine and whimper with every strong thrust, Logan slow and forceful with every movement. It felt like he wanted your insides to memorize exactly how his cock feels inside of you, and you doubt you'd ever mind it. He filled you perfectly, hitting every sweet spot inside of you.

    Your arms are shaking. Struggling to hold yourself up with each and every rock of the bed. You barely start to buckle when He catches hold of you, an arm snacking under your chest and pulling you towards him. His hand spans your collarbone as he holds your back against his chest, holding you up as he continues to fuck you like no one before. You're closing in on that sweet release when his hips stutter a moment. His teeth dig into your shoulder with a sharp bite, holding you there close to him without breaking the skin.

    “Are… are you -ah- close?” You ask. Logan only responds with a short and simple - “Fuck!” - before he pulls out of you.

    You don't have time to whine about the emptiness before he's flipping you around, kissing you again as he pushes your back to the bed rather aggressively. He's quick to sling your legs over his arms, folding you in half as he sides fully into you in a single thrust. He's hitting you so much deeper in this position, chest pressed against your own as his thrusts continue to stutter. 

    Logan kisses you again, a bit differently than the last ones have been. These kisses are tender, sweet. A stark difference between his needy, frantic thrusts. There's a line of spit between you two as he pulls away, half-lidded eyes meeting your own. You’re closing in on your peak, and you can tell he is too. The pleasure is too much for you to handle at once, and you can't help but squeeze your eyes shut.

    “Look at me.” Logan grabs a hold of your chin, your eyes flying open as he thumbs at your lip and holds your head still. “Don't look away.” His hips stutter some more, the both of you groaning as you clench around him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as you finally cum around his cock. The fluttering of your walls are more than enough to send Logan over the edge, his cum warming your insides in thick spurts. Logan buries his face into your neck, groaning as you ride out both of your orgasms.

    The two of you lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Logan lets go of your sore legs, massaging your thighs as he presses sweet, comforting kisses to your cheek and temple. His hands wander up and down your sides, doing his best to soothe your aches without you even having to ask. -not that he would ever admit to having a soft side. Who would believe you if you told them that The Wolverine was a cuddler after sex anyway?

    “Why didn't you just tell me?” You ask after a long moment. Logan hums, his Face tucked into the crook of your neck.

    “Tell you what?”

    “That you were jealous.” Logan only snorts at that, playfully pinching your side.

    “Jealous of what? Your cologne?” He returns. You slap him on the shoulder as he chuckles at you, unable to stop the playful smile on your face.

    “You mean the cologne that you thought was a whole-ass guy?” Logan stops at that, instead choosing to cover your mouth with his palm as he tucks his head closer.

    “You're a lot prettier when you're quiet. You know that?”

[mismatched-sockss]

You're my future, past and present

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 6,4k » Warnings: spoiler mentioned for 9x23 Angels / 9x24 Demons, Spencer's POV, exes to lovers, set after s15, anxious!Spencer, reader feels guilty at one point, language? (one 'bitch' from reader to reader), mentions of past fights, minor misunderstandings, random old lady plays cupid <3, fluff, kissing, how many phrases for being in love can one pack in two paragraphs? me: yes., » A/N: my brain is on strike for finishing bingo fics for some reason, it instead gave us this so yay!, i'm still working on those of course but i can't tell when i will get the next one done (in the words of one Penelope Garcia: Why do the last 10% always take the longest?), hopefully by the end of the week; it's lightly implied that reader can get pregnant in the beginning but it's not explicitly said (only mentions of kids), which is the reason i tagged it as fem but no mentions of anything body related or any pronouns (i think so, please let me know if i missed pronouns), so it might as well can be read as gn; no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

⚶ masterlist ⚶

He should have asked Penelope for a favour to look you up, before he came here. He had no idea how your life had changed in all these years he hadn't seen you or if you even wanted to see him again. It didn't particularly sound like it the last time he saw you.

You could be happily married with kids for all he knew. The thought alone almost made him turn around without even knocking on your door. He didn't know what he would do if this was the case. Or maybe you didn't even live here any more, you could have moved; to the other side of the city, to another state. Another country. You had toyed with the idea to move to Scotland back then, it very well could be that you had acted on it.

Too much time had past, five whole years – five years, three months, twenty-one days and eleven hours, forty-two minutes to be exact; but who was counting, right? – and there was too much history, too much heartbreak. Too many reasons why it hadn't worked out.

The main – and kind of only – ones being his job at the BAU and everything that came with it. The travelling and never being home, not even a free day or annual leave really meant not getting called in, the late nights, the worries that he could get hurt and may not be coming back home, the worries when he got hurt.

You had your reasons to break it off and he still thought that you were right to do so. He never held it against you, never resented you for leaving. Because he understood. If the roles would have been reversed, he may would have made the same decisions.

This whole idea was stupid. Why was he even here. He should just leave.

What did he think would happen when you saw him? That showing up out of nowhere – with no contact since the break up, not even a single text message – and having a 'new' job would change everything and would make you jump back into his arms in an instant like nothing happened? Yeah... Sure...

Maybe, deep down and in the tiniest crack of his heart, he didn't even want you to open the door; didn't want to see your reaction to him just showing up and the inevitable rejection that would surely come. He was sabotaging himself, really. And if he would be more honest to himself, he'd knew that. Maybe he did, but just didn't want to see it.

Spencer had been pacing back and forth in front of your door for an eternity by now; walking closer to it and already lifting his hand to knock, but changing his mind before his fingers even came close and he was walking a few feet away to leave, only to change his mind again and repeat the whole ordeal. Over. And over. And over.

He just couldn't make his mind up, he didn't know what to do. It shouldn't be this hard to knock on a door. Especially yours. But maybe it was this hard for him because it was yours.

At one point, he, a man of science, even asked the universe to give him a sign, to show him what he should do; if he should do it or if he should go.

That's when it happened.

Right after, as he was walking closer to the door again, he tripped over his own damn feet and he ended up kicking the door with his shoe; not hard, but audible enough.

Shit. Not the sign he was looking for. A pedestrian screaming something outside that he could twist into an answer, a car honking when he either was close to the door or walking away; hell, even a spam mail popping up on his phone that had a certain word in the subject line... No, it had to be this way.

Now he had to knock.

Taking a shaky breath, he hit his knuckles against the wood a couple of times and started fidgeting with his fingers as soon as he had lowered his hands. His heart was in his throat as he waited anxiously. His mind in a constant battle of 'please be home' and 'please don't be home'.

A moment later – both too short and too long at the same time – the door opened just a crack and it was really you standing there. Not some random person that would tell him you moved. You.

You didn't turn your head just yet, looking back over your shoulder instead, you held out your arm behind you and said “Stay there” in a soft voice to someone behind you. When you turned you blocked the entrance with your body and kept your left hand on the door.

Your eyes grew wide when you saw him. Spencer probably was about the last person you would have expected to see when you opened the door. He couldn't bring himself to break the silence first, didn't dare to speak.

“Oh, hey... Uh-”, you stammered looking for words, blinking in confusion. For a moment you opened and closed your mouth, and he knew you were hating that you looked like a fish out of the water, before you gave up and just settled for another “Hi.”

“Hi.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes for a moment, looking down at his hands and the floor before he met your gaze again.

“Wow, it- it's been a while.”

“Yeah...”

“How long 's it been? Five years?”

“Five years, three months and twenty-one days.” Spencer pressed his lips together before he could blurt out the hours and minutes as well.

You laughed – not mean, but endearing – and the sound combined with the smile that spread on your lips made his heart leap. “Right.”

God, how much he had missed your laugh; how much he had missed you. Now that you stood before him, it became evident, that all the longing and yearning he had felt in the past years had been nothing more than a fraction of what he was really feeling; repressed by throwing himself into work and keeping his mind off you as much as he could.

His love for you never went away, never dulled even the slightest bit, and seeing you now was almost too overwhelming for him, his feelings for you crashing over him, nearly sweeping him off his feet.

“Uhm, I was just about to go to the park with Cleo”, you started, shooting a look over your shoulder and Spencer's heart dropped. He could have sworn it stopped beating for a few seconds as well. The Stay there hadn't rung any alarms in his mind, it could have been said to any person really. Going to the park with Cleo however...

He really should have asked Penelope to look you up before he came. You had a kid.

And since he could only see the heel of your left hand and not your fingers, he couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but there was a high chance there was a ring on your finger.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hold you up. I'll just, uhm-”, he stammered choked up and pointed his thumbs over his shoulder, taking a step back, about to turn away and leave.

“No”, you exclaimed, maybe a bit too quickly and panicked, as you held out your right hand like you wanted to reach for his arm; even making a small step out of the door. “You don't have to leave. You could- uh, you could come with us? If you want to.” If he wouldn't know better, he'd say there was a pleading look in your eyes, begging him to say yes and stay.

His mouth opened, but no words came out, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't even know what he wanted to say.

'Yes sure, let's go to the park with your daughter and rip my heart into pieces seeing and hearing about you living the life I dreamt of having with you, with another man'.

A plain 'No.' would be too rude, wouldn't it? Even if he would add a 'thank you' at the end, it didn't feel right.

“She uh- she likes meeting new people, she's really open; sometimes I'm afraid she'll walk off with anyone. Come here, girl.” You looked over your shoulder again and tapped your flat hand against your thigh a couple of times, then some clicking and scratching could be heard behind you on the parquet floor.

The speckled snout of an Australian Shepherd pushed in the space between your knee and the door, then tried to push through further after seeing Spencer. With a laugh you took a hold of the collar and held the dog back from running out.

“Cleo, stay.” You squatted down next to her, petting her head and scratched behind her ear. ”I have to warn you, she can be a bit rough when she gets excited.” A wide smile was on your face as you looked up at Spencer. “I've been trying to teach her to not jump up on everyone she meets, but it doesn't stick.”

Just like that, he felt like he could breathe again. Cleo wasn't your daughter but your dog and the ring you were indeed wearing on your left hand was one he recognized from your jewellery box.

A relieved chuckle left his lips and he mirrored your position. He held out his hand for Cleo to smell before he touched her. She really was excited; she was pulling against your hold and tried to get closer, her tail was waggling so hard her whole body moved in the rhythm and she nudged her nose against his palm hard after a short sniff, so he would pet her.

You did your best to hold her back, but after Spencer verbally said hi to her and was petting her on both sides of her head she surged forward; your hand slipped from the collar and Cleo threw her whole weight against him, making him loose balance and topple over.

With an outstretched arm he held himself up, laughing, as your dog rubbed her head against his torso and hand and was spinning around a couple of times between his legs, repeatedly leaning herself into him with every turn.

“Cleo!” Your voice had a warning tone to it that hadn't fully replaced your laugh though, not until she let out a small bark and started to lick over his face. “No! Stop!” You pulled her away and moved her back into the apartment; Cleo only reluctantly complied.

Before he could react, you shuffled closer on your knees until you kneeled right before him and in between his legs. You reached out and started to wipe the side of his face clean; the sleeve of your sweater pulled over your fingers. “I'm so sorry, she's usually not that excited. I have never seen her do this to someone that isn't me.”

He froze when you got close and he felt your touch, every soft stroke leaving behind a trail of fire, even with the thin fabric barrier between you. One would think his heart couldn't pound any faster in his chest than it already had since he had laid eyes on you again, but it did.

“It's- hu, it's okay”, he stammered as he was watching you intensely, with wide eyes.

“No, it's not”, you said softly and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, slightly tilting his head to the side as you tried to get everything off. “Do you want a wet wipe or something? You can come in and wash your face if you'd prefer that.”

Spencer couldn't help the smile stretching on his lips, his heart warming over the fact that you were still looking out for him, after all these years; after everything that had happened and all the things that had been said the day you broke up with him. His hand moved on its own accord and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, stopping you. “Really, it's okay.”

You met his gaze, heat rising in your cheeks and it was like you only now realized how close the both of you were sitting and that you were touching him. For a second you froze, your eyes wide. Then, after a deep breath, you pulled back to bring some distance between you and cleared your throat, looking away.

He could tell there was an apology forming on your tongue, but you swallowed it down. You began to nervously fidget with the hem of your sleeve and cleared your throat. “So, uh, do you want to come with us? There is this coffee shop on the way that opened about six months ago and they're really good, we- we could grab a coffee and catch up...?”

“I'd really like that.”

It was easy, talking to you. The initial awkwardness and anxiety he had been feeling had quickly faded and the both of you were talking as freely and open as before, like no time had passed; and he was incredibly grateful for it. Neither of you had been going to personal topics for now though – the closest thing to personal in a deeper sense was when you asked about his mom –, the both of you had been talking more about everything and anything.

[..] Did you end up getting that book collection you had your eyes on? - When did you get Cleo? - Oh, do you remember my coworker Grace? All the rumours really were true! - Is your neighbour still vacuuming solely in the middle of the night? [..]

About halfway to the park you stopped at the café you had mentioned and while you were waiting in line, you told him about the different coffee varieties they offered; the flavours, how strong they were, how sweet, the seasonal ones. You had drunk your way through the list three times and until you decided on your Top 5.

He crinkled his nose in adoration as he was listening to you rambling about the coffee – what you liked about each one and why you didn't like another – totally engrossed by you; you had done this in the past as well and it made Spencer happy that you still were. It was adorable. He wondered, if you still wrote down your Top 5's in that little notebook you had always kept in your purse.

The one you recommended to him was really good, you had met his taste precisely; the perfect amount of sweetness just how he liked it, and with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

There were many occasions he was about to reach for your hand, it was almost instinctually when you were this close to him. He didn't know if you would let him, if you would want it. So Spencer didn't. Instead he buried his hand deep into the pocket of his coat to keep himself from reaching for you, holding a tight grip on an old pack of gum he forgot was even in there.

Throughout the whole way from your apartment to the park, Cleo was happily dancing around you, just shy of making one of you trip over her. That she didn't circle around the both of you to wrap the leash around your legs – all '101-Dalmatians'-like – was all.

After you arrived at the park you walked a bit further in until you came to a fenced area that seemed to be reserved for dogs for them to freely run around without having to be leashed. As soon as you unhooked the leash from Cleo's collar she dashed forward, joining a group of dogs playing.

Spencer and you sat down on a bench and just sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching her. His hands got clammy as he got nervous because of the proximity, and he tried to wipe them on his pants as discreetly as he could. You were sitting so close to him, your thighs and shoulders were almost touching; he could feel the warmth radiating from your body and with every soft breeze the smell of your shampoo got carried over.

“So, uh... How have you been?”, you asked after a few minutes.

He huffed out a small laugh and licked over his lips. Where should he even begin. “Long story short? Not good then somewhat okay, bad, worse, better, okay.”

"Sounds like one hell of a roller coaster."

Oh you had no idea how much. And 'hell' sounded about right to be honest. "You could say that... How about you?"

"Wasn't much going on for me to be honest. I've been... okay? After some time at least...”, you admitted nervously, following Cleo with your eyes. “Everything alright at the BAU? How is everyone?”

“Good, they're good.” Spencer started telling you about all the changes within the team, but he left out all the bad stuff for now – he told you about Alex leaving, about Tara joining after practically a 36 hour long job interview for the open position, JJ and Will having a second child, that Morgan left and had married Savanah and that they had a son as well, Garcia vehemently trying – but ultimately failing – to hate the newbie Luke.

“Rossi got married last year.”

“Really? Again?” You let out a soft laugh.

“He re-married his third wife actually. They got back together after-” He had to stop for a second and swallowed hard as the spark of hope was reigniting in his chest. If Dave and Krystall had found their way back to each other after thirty years and made it work, five years didn't sound all that bad in retrospective. He tried to play it off like he was trying to remember the exact number of years. “Around three decades, I think.”

“Wow... That's a lot of time..”

“It is.” For a short moment Spencer didn't say anything more, trying to muster up the courage to tell you he left the team as well.

“And I- uh” He huffed out a small laugh, nervous, and let his gaze wander over the meadow. There he goes... “I'm not- I'm not with the BAU any more, actually.”

“...Oh”

For a moment you didn't say anything else and his heart beat faster. He couldn't a hundred percent gauge what your silence meant. What the oh meant. Did you care? Were you relieved or maybe even sad for him? Could – would – it change anything between you, even after all this time? Would you give the both of you a second chance? Him?

Hope started to rise up again in his chest and he tried to stop it and keep it at bay, so it wouldn't take over him; it would only crush him even more to lose you a second time if he'd let it happen. Spencer's breathing became more shallow and slightly faster as he waited for you to say more.

He could just turn his head to look at your face of course, study your expressions to get his answer without you saying another word. He didn't. Something held him back; maybe it was only because he was respecting your wishes from years ago not to profile you. Maybe it was fear of what he would see.

He heard you clear your throat and when you spoke, your voice was shaking, almost undetectable however. If you wouldn't sit so close to him – and if it wouldn't be you and he wouldn't be him – one probably wouldn't have noticed. “Why not?”

“Re-assignment due to budget-cuts or something like that. There were a couple of people higher up the food chain than Emily that had it out for us for a couple of years now.” His eyes followed Cleo sprinting over the grass, chasing and playing with the other dogs.

“Emily is back?”, you asked. The last thing you knew was that she had left for London not long after she came back from the dead.

“Yeah, she took over from Hotch after-” He stopped himself.

Telling you about Hotch and Scratch and why Emily fully became Unit Chief of the BAU, meant he had to tell you about everything else; everything that had happened to him. He just wasn't ready for this yet. This would have to be a story for another day; for both your and his sake.

“Anyway, I uh- I'm teaching now. Full-time. Mostly at the academy and some colleges here and there. But all in all-” Spencer took a deep breath. “Fixed work hours and no travelling for longer than a day.”

Only when he felt you tense up did he bring himself to look at you. You were sitting up with a straight back, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed. Your eyes were darting around and he watched a muscle twitch on your jaw.

He quickly looked away again, concentrating on Cleo again, before he could read you more. He couldn't help it, it was hard not to and turn it off. By now profiling was in his blood, it was a subconscious habit he couldn't always control, it just happened. You didn't want to get profiled, so he did what he could do to not use his profession on you. If it meant turning away and not look at you, even if he was only looking just to see you, he'd do it.

Also, he knew that he was biased; another reason why he shouldn't. What he would see and read would not be accurate. Usually, this was not a problem, he could read body language and micro-expressions with a 99,42% accuracy, since he'd do it with a neutral stand. But right now it was personal.

What ever Spencer would see in your non-verbal communication, he was too involved to not let his judgement get clouded by his feelings for you, his hopes and his fears. He would only see what he wanted to see, or what he not wanted to see, depending on which part of his heart was winning at the moment; the confident and hopeful part, or the insecure and anxious part.

“That's... That's nice. Do you like it?” He wished, he knew what you were thinking right now. Your tone didn't give much away on how you were feeling, but you seemed a bit more relaxed to him.

“Yeah, it's fun. There are some key topics on the curriculum I have to cover of course, but other than that I have pretty much full reign over the subject matters. Learning is more fun when it is about something you're really interested in, so I take suggestions from my students for a lot of the lectures. It's been paying off already.” He smiled proudly. “They contribute more and most grades have gone up.”

Slowly, the longer you talked as the evening proceeded and the sun slowly began to set, he let himself go, allowed his heart to open up and he welcomed the prospect of having you back in his life – to what ever extent it may be, even if only as a friend if that was what you wanted.

His heart had leaped when you shared you weren't seeing anyone and it hadn't slowed down it's pace ever since. Both of you had been talking and asking about it in the most complicated and conspicuously inconspicuous ways one can ask 'are you dating someone?'.

Not only this, but you wanted to spent more time with him. Spencer couldn't believe his luck. It was almost too good to be true and he feared he might wake up from this wonderful dream any minute.

He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him; hands and voice shaking, fingers fidgeting with Cleos leash in your lap, your eyes not daring to meet his.

"Tonight is this big bonfire at the Benson's farm, you know, the one with the apple orchard? I was thinking of going and.. maybe if you- I mean, if you are free tonight and want, uh- Would you like to go with me?"

There was nothing he'd rather do, nowhere he'd rather be.

After a short stop at your apartment to bring Cleo home and for the both of you to freshen up, you made your way to the farm. It was a fairly short drive and the roads were mostly empty as it got later, a bright full moon illuminating the way now.

When you arrived, there weren't too many people present. It felt more like a large family gathering than a big event. At a decent distance were benches placed around the huge bonfire, there was a tent where various beverages and a few food options were served. Next to it stood a truck from the fire department and an ambulance; a precaution if the fire got out of control or someone got hurt.

The air smelled of smoke and burning wood, french fries, beer and Mrs. Benson's home made apple pie.

Sorry, Mr. Benson's apple pie as Spencer learned some time after you arrived. You introduced him to the hosts and you started to talk about a new recipe for the pie filling you had tried to make and Mr. Benson explained what he would have done different than the recipe you found had stated.

The Benson's were nice people – he had met them once when he had accompanied you to the farm to get apples and honey. You had gotten closer to them since then, dropping by to help them out from time to time, especially when it was time for the harvest.

He had to catch his breath as his heart fluttered, his eyes glued to your face as he watched you talk with old man Benson. The way your eyes wrinkled at the corners when you smiled and the excited glint in your eyes, how the fire painted beautiful orange patterns on your face as the flames danced high, fuelled by the soft breeze; combined with the silvery light of the full moon shining bright. You looked ethereal.

Spencer became increasingly aware of said man's wife and her three friends, who stood a little farther away. The women were whispering to each other and kept looking over, one of them not so subtlety pointing at the both of you. They weren't talking badly, not at all; they were smiling and giggling as they were talking, nodding at what the other ones were saying, swooning with their hands over their hearts from time to time.

It could only mean one thing – and he wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, or not: that he all too obviously for everyone around looked as love struck as he felt; utterly bewitched by your beauty, completely head over heels, truly madly and deeply in love with you in every way, a total goner who was worshipping the ground you were walking on.

Thank god for the warm shine of the fire, or they would be able to see the blush rising up his neck in this moment as well... He just was glad that he had finished his piece of pie before this, otherwise he'd probably stand here with an open mouth and the fork frozen in mid air as he was looking at you. Now, that would have been a good picture.

What he didn't know though, was that they weren't just talking about the smitten look on his face, but yours as well. The longing glances you shot his way whenever he wasn't looking, how you were orbiting around him like the earth around the sun, a magnetic pull to each other that not even the both of you seemed to realise you had as you unconsciously stepped closer to the other when you stood too far apart. They talked about the fact, that you looked at Spencer with such a happy and beaming smile they hadn't seen on your face in a long time.

And that they could tell how hesitant and shy the both of you were about getting closer.

It's not like he didn't want to, believe me. The urge to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you – to kiss you – was still burning in every fibre of his body and it got more and more challenging to hold back, the longer he was around you. Leaving out the tiny part in him that was still afraid of getting rejected, he didn't want to impose on you by acting on it. He didn't want to possibly make you uncomfortable, so he left it to you to initiate any physical contact.

Admittedly, this was very much a bad plan if you were doing the same and were waiting for him to make the first move. However, the universe seemed to take matters in its own hands again.

Spencer had to remove himself from of the situation for a moment to restore some of his composure and not ogle you non-stop; especially not in front of all these people. He let you know that he would get the both of you something to drink and asked what he should get for you; when he came back, Mr. Benson had left.

For some time you stayed close to the fire, until he saw you lift your hand to fan yourself some air. “Too warm?”

You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. “Yeah, it starts getting a bit too much.”

He took the now empty cup from you and with a tilt of his head he signalled you to follow him. He gave the cups back to the person behind the make-shift bar counter and you walked a little farther away, putting some distance between you and both the tent and the fire. And the people too actually, the majority had gathered close around the flames in small groups.

“That's much better”, you sighed. “I like a nice fire as much as the next pers- oh.”

Before you could finish, you lost your balance when a body collided with yours from behind. You stumbled forward and Spencer instinctively reached out to catch you – he got a hold of your arms with a firm grip on them right above your elbows as you fell into him, bringing up your own hands to hold onto his shoulders.

“Oh, dear, I am so sorry, I must have tripped over something. Are you okay?”, the voice of a woman came from behind you.

Neither of you let go of the other as you turned to face her. Spencer recognized her as one of the women that had talked with Mrs. Benson earlier and the look on her face told a whole different story than her words; that she wasn't sorry at all and that it had been deliberately planned to bump into you.

“I'm okay, no worries. Are you?”, you asked her and quickly scanned her for injuries.

“Ooh, I'm good. I'm good...”, she replied, almost in a sing-sang kind of tone and a wide smile on her lips. She snickered softly and walked away, her hand raised with a lazy kind of flick in her wrist as a wave good-bye.

The both of you watched her walk away, baffled.

“Okayyy”, you let out as you kept your eyes on her for a moment longer. “As long as she didn't twist her ankle or something.”

You turned your head, and just like earlier in front of your apartment, it seemed like you only just now realised the position you were in when your eyes met his. How close you were and that you were still holding on to each other.

Only this time, you didn't pull away.

The world around him seemed to fade away, time standing still, as he held your gaze. Your breath hitched and when his eyes flickered down to your lips, Spencer felt your grip on him tighten, subconsciously pulling him closer to you. His heart was in his throat and it beat so loud that he was sure you were able to hear it. He let his eyes wander back up and when he saw that you were looking at his lips as well, he threw all caution in the wind and just... did it.

He let go of your elbows, took your face in his hands and leaned in, hovering his lips over yours for a short moment to give you an out, to give you time to pull away, but you didn't; instead you closed the small space that was left between you.

A long and deep sigh rumbled in the back of his throat when your lips met and he pulled you closer; as you leaned into him, your hands moved higher until your fingers were tangled in his hair, slightly tugging on it.

When you pulled back – more than reluctantly, but the both of you were still in public – , you were panting, your breaths mingling as your faces were still so close to each other. Spencer kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, not quiet ready to open them yet, afraid that when he did, he would wake up from an incredibly vivid dream.

“I'm sorry”, you suddenly choked out, which made him open his eyes in an instant. Tears were streaming down your face and you took a step back, keeping him at arms length. “I am so sorry, Spencer.”

“Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, please.” Your emotions had changed so suddenly, he didn't know what happened, what made you cry. He wasn't sure what he should do, how he could help you calm down.

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, shaking your head.

“What for?” Did you regret letting him get close to you again; kissing him? Did you regret, that you hadn't just closed the door right in his face as soon as you had seen him this afternoon?

“Everything!” you choked out. “For how I acted all the time and for leaving like that, for leaving when I did. That I didn't contact you even once. For saying all those things, it wasn't fair. It never was. You didn't deserve it. I was so mean for no reason...” You sniffled and wiped the back of your hand under your nose. “I regretted every word the moment I said it, I didn't mean any of it. I couldn't stop talking and it was like I was losing control over myself and it all just came out and-....”

“Hey, I know...” Spencer took a small step closer to you. “In that moment it hurt, yes. And it took a lot of time until it stopped hurting; sometimes it still does. But I get it. You were scared. Some people get angry and lash out at the people around them when they are scared, especially directed at the person they are scared for; everyone reacts different. It's a totally normal reaction, I don't blame you.“

A sob came over your lips, your face twisting in pain. “Please don't be like that...”

His brows furrowed, a short and sharp pain in his chest. “Like what?”, he breathed out.

“So understanding... I acted like a total bitch to you! You should hate me... Why don't you hate me?” Your voice broke and got smaller with every word.

The corners of his mouth slightly raised to the whisper of a smile and Spencer closed the distance between you, lifting his hands to cup your cheeks. He wholeheartedly meant what he said next; there was not one thing he could think of that would change anything about it.

“I could never hate you.”

“You were shot. You needed me and left you alone and-”

“I've had worse. Before that day in Texas and certainly after”, he trailed off and softly shook his head when your brows furrowed even more, pain and fear so evidently in your eyes; he could tell that you knew he wasn't talking about anything related to the break-up.

“It's okay, I'm okay.” Spencer brushed your tears away, holding your face so gently in his hands as if you'd break into a million pieces if he wasn't careful enough. By the looks of it, you may very well would. Not a risk he was willing to take.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he stopped you from asking what had happened after, by placing his thumb over your lips. “Not tonight.” Gently, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth. “We'll talk about it all and I will tell you everything, I promise. Just.. not tonight, okay?”

He wanted to stay in that little bubble you had created a little longer and ignore everything else but the feeling of having you back in his arms, being able to kiss and hug and touch you again, he just wanted to revel in your presence and your love. Everything else could wait; the guilt, the talking it out, the pain and especially all the bad stuff he had held back.

You pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until there was no room left between you. For a second you fought with yourself, your eyes darting back and forth between his like you were looking for something in his gaze before you acted on what you wanted to do. Then-

“I love you.”

Before he could say, think or do anything else, Spencer dove down and pressed his lips against yours, smiling widely into the kiss. His heart was racing and he felt like a huge burden had fallen from his shoulders that he didn't even know he had been carrying. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I love you.”

He couldn't hold back his own soft laugh when he heard you giggle happily before you said: “I can't believe you still want me...”

“It's you. It's always been you and it always will be you.”

[messenger-of-babel]

Always Late

Summary: Batman was late when you needed him the most, but he refused to let it happen again. (Batfamily x sibling!reader)

Word Count: 4.5K (This was supposed to be a quick fic 💀)

Notes: BIG AUTHOR NOTE INCOMING Before anyone comes for me- I know this was supposed to be a day for Chris. I'm just feeling a touch sick but still want to get a fic out, and I'm currently not able to churn out and go through his, so I'll write some Chris later! Instead I wanted something else, consider it a change up to shake some life back into the theme. I also rambled hella long on this one, so strap in, it's long and the plot got lost in the maze of my mind. I had to shuffle things around and it just kept growing and growing, oh my god so I hope it makes sense to everyone still. Clark caemo, some (very??) OOC villain work cause I forgot some of my original plot and villains so begging on my knees for forgiveness fr. GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/ TORTURE DESCRPTION FOR SOME AREAS. I should have made this two parts but I messed up and made just one massive fic. Was supposed to be batfam x reader but it started feeling more like bruce x reader hahaha. RIP my sleep schedule please reap the benefits of my labour. 😭

Again I was originally here to be a resi blog but I can't help writing for DC after a day of reading comics. On that topic I actually finished collecting Tom Taylor's run at #118, my store held #119 for me so I get to read that as a reward after the hell that will be my Monday.

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When you were taken, it caused a widespread panic among Gotham.

Tabloids across the city wrote about the latest missing person, this time none other than the latest member of billionaire Bruce Wayne's family. The Gotham Gazette had been running articles about you for months already, including the scandal that had come with it. Your dirty laundry and past had been aired for the entire city to read and speculate upon. Whether Bruce had just adopted you out of pity, sympathising with the way that you had lost your parents the same way he had. Gossip about it could all be a ploy for him to expand his influence in Gotham, after the riches and estate that your family had left you behind in their untimely death. The city was thrown into chaos from the death of your parents, both of them from founding Gotham families and well-established lawyers. It was shaken more once the Wayne had taken you into his household, and now it was all but alight as you vanished.

Fingers pointed in every which way, your disappearance marking the fourth among affluent families in Gotham. Accusations had even been hurled at Bruce, claiming that he had killed you in order to gain your assets and the other missing people were to establish an alibi. After all, Bruce Wayne had no alibi for the night that you went missing.

But he had an alibi.

Bruce reflected upon that fact for three days already, while he tore his hair out trying to find you. He had been out in the city, patrolling as usual. The disappearances were the latest case, and he was determined to stop them before they continued. He had been so involved in the case, standing so close to the evidence that he didn't even consider the option that he himself would be affected, or consider the perpetrator might targe the Waynes. he hadn't expected to get a call from Alfred a little past midnight, the butler wheezing painfully into the receiver.

Blood freezing in his veins he had come home to an empty house, windows on the third story smashed in. Alfred was slumped by the phone, its sleek body hanging off the hook. Bruce had pulled the cowl off without a second thought, cradling the older man's head in his lap with shaky hands. He had relaxed slightly when there was a steady pulse under his fingers, and the tension eased further when the older man had opened his eyes.

"Alfred," Bruce had sighed out, moving the old man from his lap to against the wall, hand keeping him upright. "Are you okay-"

"They took them." came the old man's mumbled reply, and for a second Bruce's jaw just hung there.

"What do you mean?" he asked, heart thudding painfully against his ribs, panic rising once more.

"They came through the window, cut the lights. I pretended to be unconscious to use the phone line, but they came back. Cut it shortly after I rang you." the older man said, looking up with remorseful eyes. "I'm so, so sorry, Mr. Wayne." he said forlornly. "I couldn't stop them."

Bruce looked down; jaw tensed. "It wasn't your fault." he said firmly, trying to quell the despair radiating off the old man.

"They took them kicking and screaming. I could hear them the entire time, but I couldn't do anything I-"

"Alfred." Bruce said sternly. "Alfred it's okay. Let me handle it, you go make some tea." he said, helping the old man stand up.

"Tea, yes, yes that's right..." the butler murmured to himself, hand to his head. "It's been a while since you asked me for tea, sir."

"It's not for me." Bruce said, pulling the cowl back on. "It's for you. make yourself some tea and we'll patch you up. Take it easy tonight, wait for the shock to wear off."

Alfred looks at him, hesitating, but eventually nods. "We, sir?"

Bruce hums, fists at his side. "Yes. This case has escalated. It's time to request help."

He keeps his voice level as he walks away, but Alfred notes the way that he turns the corner, and the anger put into his stride.

When he gets to the cave he wastes no time, calling in everyone he can think of. His chest feels tight, breath short as his vision swims. Every signal he can send he does, the blurring in his eyes seeping into his mind too. He cradles his head in his hands, trying to calm it but to no avail. It's only when the ringing of the Batcomputer cuts through the fog that he is able to look up, shaking fingers hitting the accept call button.

"Batman?" comes the crackly voice of Nightwing, and the fog begins to clear slightly.

"Nightwing." he says back gruffly, voice hoarse.

"About time, you were making people pretty worried, you know." Dick chides, and there's the sound of yapping in the background. "What's the brief? What's happened?"

"Kidnapping." he says, voice thick. "Broke into the manor. Alfred is likely to be concussed, but it shouldn't be too serious. He's making tea, Robin is out on the other side of the city tonight. Red Robin is with you, isn't he?"

There's more shuffling on the other end before Dick responds. "Yeah, he's been helping in Bludhaven, he came last night."

"Bring him. Bring Oracle too. Everyone...come home." he murmurs, hands shaking as he tries to think clearly.

"Bruce, is everything okay with you?" Dick comes in, concern evident.

"Fine. I need people back immediately. Why?" he huffs back, rubbing the spots from his eyes with his fingers.

"Because we've all been trying to call you for the last few minutes. This is the first time you've picked up."

Bruce takes a deep breath, exhaling softly. He hadn’t realised how badly he had spaced out. "It's an emergency. They...they’re gone. They need to come home."

"The new kid?" Dick breathes. "Wait, you mean-"

Bruce nods even though he knows his eldest cannot see him. "Gone. Now come back and come back tonight." he ends the call before Dick can say anything else, and his tired eyes scan the monitor filled with a string of outgoing distress calls and an equally large number of missed ones. In his haze he had pressed every com line he had. He had pinged Jason, he had pinged Dick. Hell, he had even pinged the League and Clark, who hadn't even bothered to call for clarity, his response status just reading, 'On my way'.

He held his head in his hands, breaths laboured.

Bruce had held his own reservations when adopting you. He knew about the media uprising that it would cause, the rumours that were sure to fly. He had known what kind of mental state that would put you in, how it would angle you in a whole new world of cameras, but he couldn't help himself. He had seen you while in the suit, and maybe he had taken you in to make himself feel better. For not catching the person who had killed your parents, arriving too late. He had been training for this his entire life, it was his entire mission in Gotham, yet he couldn't stop the very crimes that had put him on this path.

If he had been faster maybe he could have saved your parents, disarming the man with the knife before it plunged into the chest of your father. Maybe he could have arrived faster so that he could have caught the offender that robbed your mother before giving her the same treatment and fleeing into the night. Instead, he was only there fast enough for him to hear you scream as your parents collapsed to the floor. He was there as you cried and shook them and tried to stop the blood spilling through your fingers, but you were unsure where to start. After all, how can someone make a decision between stopping the flow seeping from their father’s chest and the one from their mother’s throat?

He had been there to pull you away, was there to catch the last dying light of your father as he stroked your cheek before making eye contact with Bruce. "Look after my kid." he had whispered, something Bruce had nearly missed under all your screaming. Bruce pulled you away while he called for the GCPD, and from one father to another, he made sure to keep that promise.

Your relationship had been rough, clearly distraught at the way you lost your parents. You were older than he was when the same had happened, but you were still young. You had clung to Bruce the day he said he was going to take you in, and he had managed to soothe you with a soft hand up and down your back. Yet as the tabloids got worse and the gossip began to grow, you began pulling away from him and seeking the comfort of your room instead. He had done his best to protect you from the media, paying money to have articles removed and when that didn't work, he threatened to sue. It made the Gazette pull their head in a bit, but it still failed to be enough. Evidently, as there was now an empty bedroom on the third floor of the east wing.

All he could do was sigh and blink away the images of the children he had hurt, in the name of Robin or otherwise. He had to rub away the death of Jason that he reflected on in sombre moments when he thought no one was looking. He had gotten you into this mess, attached you with his name and all of its subsequent burdens. So, it was his duty to get you back and get you back safe.

Yet three days later, he had nothing.

The cave had been a buzz of activity for all three days, and Bruce, no, Batman, was acting close to a slave driver. Tim and Barbara hadn't left the caves computers in days, Damian and Steph constantly scouring the rooftops. Dick was concerned, hell, everyone was. Even the gruff Jason had been called in, and reluctantly he had answered.

"You find anything?" Dick asked, leaning against the wall with his younger brother. Jason was still suited up, coming back from the patrol around Bristol area. He removes the mask and shakes his hair free, sighing.

"Nothing. Areas come up empty. No sign of 'em."

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. "God, there's nothing on my end either. The Docks and all Southside of Gotham are clean, no traces. Any signs pointing to who it could be?"

Jason shrugs, helmet tucked under his arm. "No idea, as it stands, the kid's just gone missing. If Bruce isn't able to scrounge up a lead, I doubt I will. Not my forte. He should give Tim a break and send him out."

"Yeah, like he'll do that. He's got him tied to cave duty." Dick scoffs back. He feels bad, talking like your kidnapping was a causal affair. He didn't treat it like one, his heart stuttering when Bruce had called him in a haze and all shaken. It didn't a genius to see how attached Bruce had gotten to you in such a short amount of time, but sometimes Dick worried that Bruce was projecting his own trauma onto you. But still you were his younger sibling, a part of the family now. He had met you with a warm smile and a gentle hand the day that you moved in, coming in from Bludhaven to make the house a bit more lively while you got settled in. God, he knew what it was like moving in alone into that empty house, with only Bruce and Alfred to warm the halls. He had eaten dinner with you, took you out for walks in the garden when your grief allowed you move more than a few paces. He did his absolute best, and he knew that with time he could be a big brother to you.

Yet you hadn't been given the time, snatched away before Christmas even hit. He doubted you knew that Bruce was the Batman, or that the rest of the family had an interesting array of night lives.

Jason was the same in the way that he hadn't interacted with you much.

Honestly, he was awkward with kids, since the last kid of Bruce's he had met was the devil spawn who spat at him like an angry cat every chance he got. You were thankfully much older and easier to understand, but that still didn’t mean smooth sailing. Jason hated even coming back to the manor, and he and Bruce had been having one of their ongoing fights during the time he took you in, meaning he missed seeing you often. Yet he still talked to Dick (more so that Dick called him to make sure that he was okay) and the older man had seen you plenty. He felt like he knew you from Dick alone, but he wasn't oblivious to your story printed in the newspapers shoved under his apartment door. He pitied you, understood the grief that you must have been going through at the sudden violence that tossed your little world upside down. Sure, you had gone from luxury to luxury, but Gotham was unkind to everyone. it was the same violence that Jason strode to clean off the street, and his heart ached deep down that someone like you had managed to get caught in its claws.

"Do you think it could be the clown?" Dick asks quietly. "He'd do something as ballsy as this."

Jason tenses, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Not likely. That bastard likes to make a spectacle of things. No doubt he would have contacted the Bat the second he took the first victim or aired it like some twisted game show. It's not like him to lay quiet."

"So, it's someone else. It's unnatural for Gotham's villains to do something in the dark like this. I mean, it's been three days since they were abducted, and they're the fourth kidnap victim. There hasn't been a ransom note, a demand, a body. Not a peep for any of the captives. It's unnatural."

Jason hums in agreement, but they both jump as Bruce storms through grandfather clock entrance.

Everyone present turns, watching how Clark trails after him. Five sets of eyes watch the livid way the Bat cuts a path through the cave and gets into the batmobile, breaths too anxious to be released. Without a word the car screams out of the cave, and they all turn to Clark. Barbara casts a glance to Tim and then to Dick, who just shrugs, worry deepening on his face.

"What the hell's going on?" Jason growls, pushing off from the wall. Clark turns to face him, dressed in his Superman suit.

"We’ve found them." Clark says, face grim, and Dick shares a look with Jason. However, when Dick meets the eyes of Superman, he can see the flicker of worry in the Kryptonian. "Well let's get going then. Why did he leave alone?" Dick asked, slipping the domino mask back onto his face. Clark opens his mouth to speak but is cut off as Damian steps out behind his broad figure.

"Because it's the League." the younger boy says, green eyes boring in Dick's. "It's grandfather."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Bruce drove like his life depended on it, which wasn't fair when it was yours on the line instead. He could see the dots on his monitor indicating that the others were following him, and he had assumed that Clark had proceeded to fill them in. He had asked his old friend to look after the city while he sped towards the outskirts, just in case the League decided to do something while he had his guard on the city lowered. His com crackled to life, radio filling the otherwise silent car.

"Oi." snapped the voice of Red Hood, modulated and grainy. "Don't leave without telling us what's going on. Aren't you the one always spewing that 'feel-no-emotion' bullshit? To not let it cloud your judgement? Cause from the way I see it, you're acting kinda hazy."

"I trusted Clark would fill you in." he says back, voice tense. Red Hood scoffs.

"Yeah, and he did. You called us. You tell us what the hell you want us to help with, otherwise don't bother calling at all. Don't drag us out, get us invested then not let us help when it comes to it. What was your plan, beat the shit out of Ras and taken them back by yourself?"

Bruce falls silent, and there's a slight huff from Jason on the other end.

"Honestly? not the worst plan you've had, and I respect the enthusiasm, but you still should have looped us in. I want to get a hit in too."

Bruce turns his head to the direction of the radio, snapped from his concentration on the road momentarily and it's like Jason can feel his confusion through the commlink.

"Don't give me that silence." he groans. "They're family, aren't they? I'm not opposed to a younger sibling, you know." he huffs irritably. "But do me a favour and control Nightwing, hey? He's looking as coiled as you. You might have to fight him for the first hit."

Bruce doesn’t say anything before the comm cuts off, leaving him in the silence once more and eyes going straight back onto the red dot mapped onto his GPS. You.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

When you awoke the first time, you couldn’t feel anything. Your hands were tied to your ankles behind you, black cloth wrapped around your eyes. what you did know was that you were lying somewhere concrete, face pressed into the dusty cement. You knew that on the day that you woke and they had brough you were, that there were other people thrown in the same cell as you. You also knew that those other people were dead.

You had heard them scream, heard the way that they begged for their lives when they were dragged from the pen you were in. One a day, until you were left alone with no one to talk to. They had all been kidnapped like you, affluent people that you recognised the names and voices of. You had heard some of them at events you parents had hosted and attended, and when you traded names, they had remembered you immediately. You weren't dumb, you knew that you had all been taken here because you were rich. That was the only thing that you had in common with the heiresses and finance brokers that had shared the cells with you, huddled up against the cool metal.

Now the only thing left was you and the stickiness that crept under the bars of your cage, grateful that the blindfold was on so you didn't have to see what it was. At first you thought that you were alone, that your captors had left, but you knew better. You could sense them all around you, quiet and watching. They were like an uncomfortable prickling on your neck, the ghost of fingertips across your skin. Yet the hours and minutes had bled into days, and now you didn’t care if they were there or not.

You knew that they wanted to kill you. They had killed the rest. You had been given small amounts of food and water the first day or two, but today there had been none. Your mouth was dry as you lay on your side, lips cracking with the desire to drink. Your throat felt like sandpaper when you swallowed, and the silence that you were met with when you called out only made your panic and helplessness rise. You had lost the ability to cry, body sluggish. It felt like everything was shutting down, the pain in your stomach unbearable and tongue heavy in your mouth. As the heat crept in and pulled sweat from your unwilling skin, you began wishing that they would kill you.

You supposed that your wish was answered when the creak of your cell signalled one of your silent observers had come for you, and the tug on the ropes binding your limbs together made you lurch forward. You kept your face pressed down, too weak to struggle against them as they dragged you out and gripped your hair, making you shift onto your knees at an awkward angle. For the first time in days, you heard someone speak.

" So, this is Bruce's new...child." Your captor hummed. You could hear the way that their boots scuffed as they walked, coming to stand in front of you. You could faintly feel the swish of fabric, long and tickling the floor. "I wonder if he was planning to hand the title of Robin over so soon.”

Your eyebrows furrow, but your barely functioning brain fails to process what he's saying.

"Are you aware of your family's lineage?" comes the voice from above you, commanding and deep with a hint of something malicious in the undertone, like a coiled snake waiting to strike. “Your real family, the ones who claimed to practice a just and fair law. Not Wayne.”

 You manage to shake your head weakly, grimacing as the image of your parents covered in blood flickered into your mind.

The voice above you tuts. "The sins of the father shall be bestowed upon the son," he recites softly. "And you are to pay the penance. Gotham will be purged, and the bloodlines of the corrupt shall be the first to burn, aware of their sins or not."

You don't even get a chance to ask what he's saying, the words sounding like biblical rambling. A scream is ripped through your throat instead as a sharp hot pain erupts through your shoulder, the sound of your own skin bubbling making you sick. You wail, body aching to thrash but the fatigue and weakness preventing you from doing such. The hands on your shoulders hold you still as the sensation is repeated across your body, stray tears leaking from your eyes despite your dehydrated state. It's only when you feel like you’re about to cross over, embrace the light spilling behind your eyes that you realise that the hands have left your body and that you're lying face down, discarded on the concrete floor.

You can feel the ache all over your body, a stinging and writhing pain that makes your whimper involuntarily. You can now make out that there is sound around you, echoing off the empty walls and causing your head to throb after days of silence.

For Bruce however, the world was silent despite being in the thick of the fight. They had pulled up the abandoned building on the edge of Gotham and Bludhaven, thankfully located by Clark and his x-ray vision after days of searching. He had stormed into the building with Dick, Jason, and Tim on his heels, his hands filled with a shake only the trained eye could determine as rage. The world had dripped into the pulsing cadence of his heartbeat as soon as he saw you, kneeling at Ra’s feet and being held by league assassins. He had hardly any time to process the way that you curled up and into yourself when you were dropped so carelessly, head thudding lifelessly against the floor. Forlorn, he eyed the way your body was covered with cuts and stabs, burns from the red-hot sword still held in the hands of a soldier. He hadn't known when the league had decided to dabble in torture, but Bruce felt like joining that night.

Jason and Tim were dealing with the assassins, the younger male finally freed from desk duty. He didn't know you as well as he would have liked considering that you lived under the same roof as him, but you had been warming up. He had really hoped that you could get along, but now he feared that this was going to push your back into the shell you had just started to crack, and that frustration was evident in the whistling of his bow staff as it cut through the air.

Dick had gone after Ra’s immediately while Batman raced for you, Dicks escrima sticks going for the head. Dick was fast and agile, muscles more tensed than usual as he sent well placed blow after blow. Yet Bruce wasn’t an idiot, he knew the limits of him and his team, and he knew the limits of Ra’s. That's why in what limited time that Dick bought for him he dropped to your side, slicing through your bonds with a batarang and letting your arms and legs fall free from their cramped position behind you. You groan lightly as he cradles you to his chest, weakly crying out as he justles the many wounds. He loosens the blindfold from your eyes, and your blink up at him a few seconds later, squinting against the light.

Your skin is sticky with blood both your own and not, flecked across the apple of your cheeks. He eyes the burns, the warped and rippled skin that blistered angrily and would surely get infected if not treated soon. He observes the many cages set up in the corner, the one he presumes was yours wide open and empty. He feels sick seeing the dead bodies in the other ones, imagining that it could have been you in there, dead like some caged animal for slaughter.

You make a weak whimper when he stands, and he has half a mind to join Nightwing in beating Ras so badly he'd need to use the pit again.

But he doesn’t.

He rises to his feet with you in his arms, and he calls for a retreat. You cry and moan as he hurries out, Jason and Tim covering your exit while Dick flips into the rafters and out of range of the Demon Head. He wants to fight; he wants to put them in their place for hurting his family. But the moment he had met your eyes again, it was like that day in the alleyway. You had seen him as Batman too that day, but as he laid you hurriedly in the back of the batmobile and patched Oracle in to prep the med bay, he knew that something was different from that night.

Because unlike the day you lost your parents, he had made it in time.

[citrus-moonlight]

As I often do, I've seen a few posts going around lately lamenting the lack of interaction with fanfiction/fanart here on Tumblr as well as AO3, but after reading a particular comment last night I just need to say this:

If someone tells you that the lack of response to sharing their writing is making them feel so upset that they're thinking of quitting writing altogether, don't tell them that's not a good mindset to have and they should just have fun with it and write for themselves. (have you just tried not being sad? you'll feel so much better!)

Even if you're a writer who felt that way once upon a time but then you changed your mindset so that you don't rely on others' feedback for validation and now you're so much happier, that's not helpful. Because that's obviously not what the person who is feeling sad and defeated is able to do right now, and for most writers/creators that's never going to be possible.

And it shouldn't have to be.

Especially here. Especially fanfiction.

Fanfiction is something that's created because someone loves something and wants to share it with others who love the same thing. And this is specifically a fandom space, somewhere that is supposed to be a community where discussion and dialogue can and is encouraged to happen between the people who write and the people who read. So when there's radio silence when you share something in this kind of space, do you really not see how that would be discouraging?

Because of course I write for myself - I would never get anything down on the page if I didn't - but I share because ultimately I want someone else out there to read what I wrote, and with any luck, to get some joy out of it. But if no one tells me they did, how am I supposed to know? As far as I know I've just been yelling into the void. As far as I know, all that work wasn't worth it.

A metaphor I've seen as an example is that it would be like having someone invite you over and cooking an entire delicious, heartfelt meal, you eat it all without saying anything, and then just leave. Do you not see how that would be upsetting?

We put so much of ourselves into what we write, bits of our hearts and souls and the things that we love and are exploring and are interested in or confused about. It's such a vulnerable thing to share something you've created, so when you tell someone that they shouldn't care if someone else reads what they wrote or tells them that they liked it, you're dismissing a very real and valid experience for so many creators out there.

Because regardless of how slow or fast a writer is, or how big or small their fandom is, it's still hard and takes time and energy and dedication and love - all of it in between our day to day lives from the mundanities to the heartbreaks - to even get something to the point where we're comfortable sharing.

Now, I know that not everyone thinks that writers are silly or selfish or entitled when they ask for feedback. Before I started writing again after many, many years, the main reason I didn't really comment on fics very often wasn't because I didn't think that the authors deserved feedback, it was more that I didn't really think that it would matter. That my comments would just be noted - if read at all - and brushed aside and then they would continue on about their day.

I could not have possible been more wrong. You might think you're just one person and it's just one comment but it's amazing how it can turn a day (or week, or month) around. How it can encourage someone to finish a story, or make a connection they'd been struggling with, or even just manage to add 500 words to a WIP. It is truly incredible to hear that someone loved something I wrote, and if you've ever commented on or reblogged one of my fics, please know that it truly means the world to me.

I've gone through a rough time with all of this lately myself, but I'm doing a bit better now (for the moment), so I just wanted to say this, in part to remind myself when it inevitably gets hard again:

If you're reading this, whether you're a friend or you've never seen me on your dash and never will again: I'm sorry it hurts right now. I'm sorry you feel discouraged and lonely, that it doesn't feel like it's worth it anymore, that you're struggling to find a reason to continue.

But I desperately hope that you keep writing. I hope you keep sharing. You're worth it. I know it's hard, and if you don't want to and you're just tired of the cycle of giving so much of yourself and getting so little in return, I understand that, too. It's ok to be in your feelings about it, it's ok to feel drained by it, and even though knowing you're not alone in your experience doesn't change anything and it still sucks, it's normal and valid and there's nothing wrong with you feeling the way that you do.

But I hope that you are able to find the joy in it again, because you deserve it. ❤️

[miniwheat77]

Alone with you. (141 x Reader.)

!smut, p in v sex, double penetration, gang bang, overstimulation, non con, proceed with caution, NO MINORS!

This was supposed to be my bday fic but I’ve had writers block, hope you enjoy!

"So this is the culprit hm?" Laswell lifts up the bottle of pheromone perfume.

"Looks like it." You mumble. "Wonder how good it actually works. Might spice up my sex life." You joke. Soap laughs. "What sex life?" he snorts. Seeing Laswell roll her eyes at the both of you. "Exactly my point. Asshole." You mumble under your breath.

When Soap leaves the room, Laswell smirks at you. "I'm sure in super small doses it couldn't hurt." She winks. You catch the tiny vial in your hand that she had just thrown at you. You smile at her. "And that's why you're my favorite, Laswell." You laugh, following her out of her office. Tucking the vial into your back pocket. "Alright. I'm heading out. Graves said he has some leads in North America so I'll be over there for a couple weeks. Try not to kill each other while I'm gone." She smiles. "No promises. As always, safe travels Laswell. Ring when you get to where you're going." You call to her. She nods her head, waving at you. You disappear down the corridor, going to your room.

———

Later that same night, you make your way into the mess hall, cup in hand. It's got water in it. You haven't had the chance to eat yet. You sit down for just a second and a gasp leaves your lips when you hear a small pop come from your back pocket. "Shit." You mumble. You hear the others coming and choose to stay put, only turning to look at your backside when they're distracted. You notice that there's no liquid anymore. Had it absorbed that quickly?

You quickly head back to your room, trying to clean all of the glass out of your pocket. You change into some other leggings that you have since it's almost time for bed anyway it's not like anyone will care.

You make your way back out into the mess hall and take your seat once more. Seeing that Soap has set up across from you at the table. It's silent for the most part, until Soap starts to shuffle awkwardly. He clears his throat a couple of times, finally looking up at you. Only now does he suddenly feel very attracted to you. He was before of course but now, something is different. He clears his throat again and adjusts the way he's sitting. You glance around the room to see each of them stealing glances at you.

Is it the pheromone perfume doing this?

No… it couldn’t be. It was only a tiny vial.

You stand up to get rid of your tray and move to sit back down. “Y/N. Can I speak with you?” Your Captain grasps your attention. You nod your head, following him out to the hallways. “Did Laswell give you the pheromone perfume?” He crosses his arms. “Yeah, I was supposed to throw it away for her but I forgot about it and it broke open in my pocket.” He shakes his head. “Listen, the scent you’re giving off is way too much. Go lock yourself in your room and stay there until it’s worn off.” He finishes his sentence and then grits his teeth, like he’s holding something back. “Go on.” He breathes. You can’t help but notice the beads of sweat on his forehead. You nod your head. As you start walking down the corridor, you hear him.

“No, Johnny wait!” You turn back to see Soap trying to push passed him. Very clearly trying to get to you.

You hurry down the hallway and open the door to your room, closing the door behind you. “Jesus fuck.” You mumble to yourself. Is this stuff really this strong?

You take a deep breath, sitting at the edge of your bed.

For a couple hours, you hear nothing but silence. And it’s a bit deafening. It’s eerie like there’s something off. You lay down, trying to distract yourself but you end up falling asleep.

In your sleep, you feel someone moving next to you, dipping the edge of your bed down. You stir awake when you feel their hands on you. When you realize what’s going on, that someone is actually touching you, your eyes open completely. You jump away from them, seeing that it’s Soap. But he’s not there right now. His eyes are dark. “Johnny… what are you doing?” You breathe. “You smell so good lass. Can smell how fucking bad you want this…” he smirks. He moves off of your bed, circling around it to try to corner you. You make a split second decision and bolt for the door, sprinting down the hallway. You can hear his heavy footsteps chasing after you. You turn the corner, eyes widening and your feet skidding to a stop as you see your Captain and Gaz. They’re both standing there. Clearly blocking you from going this direction. “Nowhere to run, darling.” Gaz smirks. You breathe out.

This has to be some kind of sick joke.

Soap closes in behind you, they make slow steps toward you.

You take off through the mess hall. Seeing a window that opens and hurrying up to it, you pry it open and climb through it. Sliding out of their grasp just barely. You take off running, seeing the watch tower. Perfect.

You make your way up, slowly and quietly. You don’t know if they’re on watch since they’re not thinking right.

You move up inside, closing the door behind you. Breathing. You dig your phone out of your pocket, dialing Laswell immediately. “Y/N, I haven’t got to base just yet, I’m driving.” She mumbles. “I know- it’s not that.” You breathe, hands shaking. “The vial you gave me broke open in my pocket and my body absorbed all of it, now I’m in a freaking wild goose chase Laswell.” You pant. “What? It’s that bad?” She asks. “Yes! They’re like.. freaking zombies Laswell. They’re not even there.” You breathe. “You’ll just have to wait it out Y/N.” She mumbles. “Yeah.. Yeah I know.” You mumble. “Thanks Laswell.” You sigh.

You hear creaking, fear coursing through you. Just as you turn to look at the door, a hand snakes its way around your waist, tugging you into them, another hand clamping around your mouth. “Gotcha.” He whispers. His voice is deep and it comes out almost as a growl.

It’s Ghost.

He moves his other hand from your waist and grasps your phone, pressing the button to hang up. Lowering the phone down onto the countertop. “Didn’t lock the door sweetheart. Almost like you wanted this to happen hm?” He breathes, his warm breath right over your ear. “You know we’re not gonna hurt ya.” He brushes your hair out of your face. “Ghost, please-“ you whine. “You smell so good. Drives me crazy. I almost didn’t want to tell them you were up here.” He chuckles. Your eyes widen.

Just then, you can hear multiple footsteps coming up the metal staircase. Like everything is deafened around you and that’s all you can hear.

What are they going to do to you?

Ghost spins you around. You see the other three creeping into the room, Soap makes sure to lock the door behind himself. “Nowhere to run now, Dove. It’s just you and us now.” Gaz mumbles, stepping closer. You step back. But know it’s no use. You’re stuck, and whatever is going to happen, it’s happening now. “What are you going to do?” You swallow hard. Johnny chuckles. “Nothing you won’t like, darling. How about we get these clothes off of you, hm?”

“I- I don’t-“

“That wasn’t a question. It was an order.” Captain Price’s voice booms in your ears. His sternness always was intimidating. “Y-yes sir.” You breathe. You hope that as you reach for the hem of your shirt, they’ll start laughing. That this will be some kind of sick joke. But they don’t.

You tug your shirt over your head. Breathing out. You clench your eyes shut as they reach for their belts. Still dressed in their military uniforms. “Y/N. Look at me.” You tilt your head up, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you look at Johnny. “Nothing to be scared about. Just relax.” He chuckles. You nod your head. He reaches out, grasping hold of your upper arm and pulling you into him with ease. How easy it is for him to move you makes you realize just how powerful these men are. He forces you up against the small table in the watch tower. It’s old and you’re not sure if it’ll hold you.

You swallow hard, wincing as the table begins to dig into your pelvis. He makes you rest your hands on it. “Be a good girl.” He breathes. His voice sends chills down your spine. He reaches for your pants, tugging them down your legs. He holds them down with his foot, having you step out of them. “Good girl. Now listen.” He breathes. He raises his hands up, unclasping your bra and letting it fall over your shoulders and onto the floor. “Nobody will hear you, so you can be as loud as you want to. Alright? You’re going to like this, because you’re a naughty little thing. Promise.” He mumbles. He pushes you back down, forcing you over the table. A gasp leaves your lips as he pushes apart your legs.

He frees his cock from its confines and you can see the others standing off to the side. You clench your eyes shut once more, whining as he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance. You suck in a sharp breath as he pushes himself past your entrance, sliding in and bottoming out into you. You lurch forward with a hiss at the intrusion. “Oh- f-fuck!” You cry. Raising up slightly with a cry. He only forces you back down. “Shhh. It’s okay.” His attempt at soothing you is pathetic and half-assed. If you weren’t in this particular position, you might laugh at him.

But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at them the same ever again.

You rest your head on the table, breathing out. Take a deep breath, try not to lose control.

That’s hard to do, keeping yourself together around them when they’re as attractive as they are. And the way they’re touching you.

Just as soon as you’re full, he’s pulling out of you again. He lifts you up, shoving the flimsy table out of the way and kneeling on the ground with you. Ghost steps toward you and you look up at him, he’s still got his mask on. You can’t see his smile. “Look good from this position, darling.” He smirks. You swallow hard, he moves his jeans to the side and tugs his boxers down, revealing his length to you. He’s big. You swallow hard, looking down. “No need to be nervous now. Look at me.” He breathes. You tilt your head up again, feeling Johnny kneel behind you, moving his length up the expanse of your ass. You shudder as Simon steps forward. “Open your mouth.” He breathes. You’re trying to stay focused on Simon but the feeling of Johnny’s length pushing into you from behind has you wincing again. “Relax. Look up at me.” He lifts your chin forcefully. Pushing the tip of his cock past your lips. You take him down as far as you can, swallowing around his shaft. Hearing him gasp.

“Johnny touch her clit.” He breathes.

Johnny does it, listening to his LT.

He glides his hand over your hip and stomach. Calloused hands rough on your skin but his fingertips on your clit has your thighs ready to give out. He draws his hips back, thrusting back into your ass. Hearing you choke on Simon’s cock. You draw back, taking a deep breath. You rest your hands on his thighs, pulling him closer to you so that you can take him further down. “There.. see.” He breathes. “All you had to do was make her horny.” His laugh is deep and taunting. He tilts his head back, groaning out. You focus on the tip of his cock, knowing it’s got the most nerve endings. Being gentle but still sucking hard. It only takes a couple of minutes before his thighs are shaking.

“Fuck-“ he draws back away from you. “Wanna be in that pussy.” He breathes. “Gonna make me cum too fast.” He breathes.

He kneels down in front of you. Wiping your lips of saliva and clearing them. Johnny’s hard thrusts into you keep you wet, and you whine when he pulls his hand away from your clit. “It’s alright. Gonna get you nice and full lass.” Soap chuckles. You probably look fucking pathetic in front of them. Fucked out and desperate. You knew you needed to get laid but this…

This is too far. But it’s something you didn’t know you needed.

They raise you up, wrapping your legs around Simon’s waist. Johnny slides himself back inside of your ass, feeling you tense up. Simon glides his tip up between your folds, pushing past them. You whine out, starting to squirm. “S’alright.” He breathes. His voice is low. Only you can hear it. When they’re both bottoming out in you, your breath is gone. Lungs are empty and burning. You’re trying to catch your breath but it feels impossible. A sob gets caught in your throat and you clench your eyes shut as they start to fuck you. “Fuck- not gonna last-“ Johnny hisses. Ghost holds you still, both of them moving in unison as they thrust into you. You shake and cry, overstimulated and you haven’t even cum yet.

“Fuck!” Johnny slides out of you, pumping himself with his hand. He bucks his hips into you, resting his forehead on your back as he finishes. Simon doesn’t stop his thrusts, keeping up his bruising pace.

Johnny moves away from you, he’s been selfish thus far. It’s someone else’s turn.

Gaz takes his place. Desperate to feel you. He inches closer, spitting into his hand and gliding it over the tip of his cock. He slides into you again. Feeling you gasp out. Lurching foward into Simon. He laughs. “You’re doing good. Keeping up.” Ghost mumbles.

Gaz grips your hips and tries to hold you still as he and Simon fill you. You can feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. Shivering as it inches closer and closer.

Chills start at your toes and work their way up your body.

“I- oh god-“ you whine.

You clench your eyes shut, letting it take over your body. You’re sure it’ll be the hardest you’ll ever cum. They don’t stop, riding out your orgasm as it washes over you. You know they’re not going to stop.

You relax, trying to pace yourself despite being overstimulated. You raise your hand up and rest it on Simon’s shoulder. Hearing Gaz chuckle behind you at your fucked out state. Simon’s breathing is getting a little heavier. He lowers his head, lips right by your ear. “So tight baby… getting me so close.” He grits his teeth. He starts to pant, cock throbbing and twitching inside of you. He groans out, sliding out of you. He grits his teeth and tries to contain himself as he cums.

He takes a second, panting. His head is buried into the crook of your neck as he comes down. He finally pulls away from you. Standing up and adjusting his pants.

Captain Price is quick to take his place. You’re ready to tap out but it’s clear that they’re not going to let you. Gaz grasps your chin, tilting your head back. “You’re doing good. Just a bit more.” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. You can feel your captain’s hands on you, groping your breasts in his hands as he lines himself up with your entrance. “You still smell so good.” He growls. Gaz lets go of you and you finally get a good look at John. His eyes are dark, like the others. Their pupils are dilated, they look dark. Empty. Like there’s nothing there, only lust.

What the hell is this stuff and who made it?

You whine again as he slides into you. Tears filling your eyes. You clench your eyes shut and brace yourself for what they’re going to do to you. You rest your head on John’s chest as they start fucking into you mercilessly, John is desperate. He’s been waiting the longest. He’s eager and horny and the way he fucks you shows it. You’re sobbing into his chest in just minutes, overstimulated and overwhelmed. Your body shakes and you can feel the warmth pooling in your lower abdomen again. You can’t stay quiet. Moans spill from your lips uncontrollably and tears stream from your eyes. You’ve never been so overwhelmed in your life. “Do you feel good? Hm?”

“Yes!” You cry. “Tell me how good you feel.” He breathes. Forcing you to look up at him. “Tell me how good all of us have made you feel. And it better be good honey. Let everyone know how good they’ve fucked you today.” He forces your face up again by your jaw. “It feels so good- so so good- you’re fucking me so good.” A gasp leaves your lips as they thrust together at the exact same time. “Now what do you say hm? It was kind of us to fuck you.”

“Thank you!” You cry, head falling again. You chant it as they thrust into you. “That’s a good girl.” He chuckles.

They last another few minutes, but this time, neither of them pull out. Filling both of your holes up.

They ride out their highs before halting, cocks buried up inside of you still. You’re panting hard, clit throbbing. You don’t know how you’ve taken it or kept up with them to this point.

It’s Soap who lifts you up and carries you to your room. Your thighs shake uncontrollably and he helps you get cleaned up before putting you to bed. He makes sure you’re comfortable. And even when he leaves you alone, he’s still got that same dark look in his eyes.

Maybe you wouldn’t wake up alone.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: happy weekend.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey, how’d you get in?” Peter rushes in, a tray of drinks in hand. 

You pop up on the stool, broken from your trance. Uncertain what else to do, you spent much of your time trying to distract yourself with his schematics. You twist to face him. 

“Um, Bucky,” you answer and cringe at home dumb you sound. “He helped.” 

“Bucky? Helpful?” He nears and puts the cardboard tray on the table, “I guess he can be.” He picks at the edge of the tray, “I got you a blueberry matcha. The place I hit didn’t have strawberry in season anymore.” 

“Oh, sounds... interesting, but you--” 

“Didn’t have to. I know, you always say so but I felt bad for being so late. I told may to get an airtag for her wallet. She can be so--” he stops himself and chuckles. “It’s whatever. She’s got a lot going on.” 

“Mhm,” you accept the cup he offers. “I was just looking over the plans. I think we could probably just go with yours. Makes more sense.” 

“What? Oh, no way,” he takes his iced whatever. It just looks like layers of sugar and cream. “I think we could easily bring together both. Take some of your features and mine. I don’t want to take over.” 

“Yeah, but...” 

“But nothing. Really. It’s a team project, not my project,” he insists as he hops up on the stool next to you, “so,” he swipes his hand in the air and a holographic screen appears. You flinch. “Let’s compare and redraw.” 

You gape as another floating rectangle appears before him. No wonder his look so much better than your Paint hack job. You want to sink down and disappear. You always figured you’re not interesting enough to be his friend but now you’re certain you might be too stupid and poor for him too. 

“So, I’m going to get logged in...” he mutters. 

“Um, Peter?” You murmur, “are you sure you wanna be my partner?” 

“Why... wouldn’t I?” He hovers his hand before the screen as he looks at you. 

“I dunno. I don’t... I don’t have much to offer. Not a lab, not all these cool computers...” 

“Oh this? No, it’s not—it's not a big deal. Dude, I'm so lucky Mr. Stark is letting me use this. I’m not ignorant, you know? I just thought it would be easier. I don’t think your roommates like me much and mine are so loud.” he explains as he lowers his arm, crossing both over the table as he leans on it. “Do you not want to be my partner?” 

“Nnnooo,” you drag the word out. “No, I do, but I want to contribute to and I don’t know how to use any of this.” 

“That’s cool. I’ll show you.” 

“Um, okay,” you nibble your lip sheepishly. “I guess...” 

“Did you try the tea? Is it good?” He changes the subject. He does that a lot. Pivots around before you can finish your thoughts. 

“Not yet,” you look down at the bright pink lid, “where did you get this?” 

“Some place called Berry? I don’t know. Everything was bright. You’d hate it,” he laughs again. “Oh,” he snaps his fingers as you blow into the lid cautiously. “Before I forget, I’m having a party. I know it’s not really your thing but it’s ‘my turn’,” he makes quotations with his fingers, “and I don’t really wanna but I also thought I'd invite you in case you wanted to not be there with me, too.” 

Your blink in surprise, “a party?” 

“I know, too much. Well, I didn’t wanna leave you out.” 

“Mmm,” you drone nervously. It is really nice of him to think of you and after everything else, you hate to say no. “No one ever invited me to a party.” 

“No?” His brow furrows, “really?” 

You shake your head, “I’ll come. Yeah. I’ll try. You know, it’s college and ...” you take a sip and clear your throat, “should I bring a dessert?” 

He laughs and gives you a playful grudge, “wow, I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ask me that except my aunt’s friends. Nope, you can just come as you are. You can always bring some drinks for yourself but I’ll have more than enough to share.” 

“Oh, okay,” you nod. 

“The tea good?” He asks again. 

“Yeah, sweet,” you put the cup down. 

“Awesome!” He grins. “I really didn’t think you’d come. I’m so excited.” 

“Really?” You ask. 

“Well, duh. You’re so fucking cool. Like all my other friends, they try so hard. It’s all ‘let’s go do shots’ or ‘watch me do this dumb shit’. You don’t even try, you’re just you. It’s like people don’t realize they can just be nice and be cool for just that.” 

“I... yeah,” you don’t know what to say.  

It’s like he’s calling you boring but not. You know you are and you don’t mind but you can’t ever remember when you just felt like everyone else. Where you weren’t the odd one out. Despite trying to include you, Peter still manages to push you to the edges. 

You wince as you notice how he stares at you. You fidget and pick at the button on the front of your corduroy skirt. His eyes flick down to the nervous movement. 

“I like that,” he reaches to touch the ridged fabric, “blue. Oh, thick.” 

Your leg twitches in surprise, “uh, yeah... found it at the student thrift shop.” 

“Really?” His fingers brush over the hem and touch your coloured tights. They linger for a moment before he pulls away. “Cute. I’ve never been there.” 

“It’s not bad...” you cross your legs as you knee tingles from his touch. That was strange. 

“Well, anyway,” he waggles his fingers as he turns back to the table, “uh, where was I?” He squints at the screens and taps in the air. He pauses and looks at you. “Here, I’ll show you how it work, alright?”  

He reaches over again and you brace yourself. He grabs the underside of the stool seat and drags you closer. He it so easily, you gasp. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. He slides his hand around so his arm is diagonal around your back. 

“Right, so...” his shoulder presses to you as he points with his other arm, “you can just use your finger. I’ll have to add your prints to the program. Put your hands up.” 

You obey as he stays close. You’re overly away of it. The way he’s pressed to you. He doesn’t seem to notice at all. You try not to think of it and focus on his instructions. The project. That’s why you’re here. 

[golbrocklovely]

crave // sam and colby

A/N: sorry for posting this so late. had to finish up a few things on it, and i'm super tired so it kinda took me a while. this fic was a lot of fun to write, and if you squint it's sort of a sequel to "our girlfriend" (but not actually). lmk what you think and happy haunting :)

prompt: snc are vamps, but they need to keep their secret under wraps. they ask you, their long time best friend, to come out with them on tour to be their blood donor. what could go wrong? || AU!vampire!sam and colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: SMUT, but no actual sex, just a lot of dirty talk/description, snc are vampires, mentions of blood, biting, blood drinking (from both parties), their blood makes you horny, cursing, petnames mentioned: baby girl, sweetheart, darling, good girl, ours, deception, possibly some dubcon so just be weary of that if that's not your thing, but don't worry… it's all a dream…. or is it???

word count: 5428

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was odd having vampires for friends while being a human. Odd, but interesting.

Sam and Colby had been my friends since they moved out to LA, and it felt like we knew each other longer than that. We grew close almost instantly, telling each other some of our deepest secrets within the first few days of knowing one another. Then one day, they told me they were vampires. Of course I didn’t take them seriously; I mean who would? Vampires aren’t real.

I soon learned very quickly that they were when I caught one of the boys drinking from a girl at a party.

Eventually I came around to the idea. I mean, vampires are pretty cool, so knowing my best friends were ones was kind of awesome. Especially since that lead to so many other questions of what else is out there.

Sam and Colby weren’t much help in that department. They only knew that they were changed right before moving to LA. They didn’t know by who or why, but they learned to accept it and embrace it quickly. Everything new that they learned about themselves and their kind, they told me.

They were scared, however, that one day their secret would come out. A very small number of people knew about their... abilities. Vampires weren’t known to the broader world yet, and they definitely didn’t want to be the first to come out.

It was getting harder to hide their secret as they grew more and more successful. More eyes were on them. And then they told me about how they planned to go on a tour, meeting as many fans as possible across the US. I was excited for them, but was a little nervous. They deserved all the love that they were getting from their fans, but hiding their true identity wasn't going to be easy on tour.

But then, they asked me something I would have never expected.

“Would you go on tour with us as our... blood donor?” Colby asked, unable to keep eye contact with me.

I raised an eyebrow at him and Sam, “...What?”

“Okay, so... usually when we go out of the country or whatever, we’re able to secure a donor, or even blood bags from local hospitals. But because we are going to every state, sometimes twice, it’s hard to do that without people growing suspicious. And while we could go feed on people, we might get caught. So we were wondering if maybe you would want to go on tour with us and... we would drink from you instead.” Sam explained, fidgeting slightly in his chair.

Colby chimed in, “Of course you can say no. But if you do it, we would 100% compensate you, however you want. We know you’re busy with your career as well, but we promise to pay you well. And of course get you your own hotel rooms and food.”

“Everything would be paid for. And you would really be doing us a solid.” Sam added.

“What would my position be for those that ask?” I questioned, crossing my arms.

“You’d be our second assistant, since we already have one. Plus, we would just let anyone know that you’re our friend joining us to meet fans.” Sam answered.

“Hmm..." I asked, lowering my voice, "Does it hurt? Being... fed on?”

“The initial bite can feel like being pricked with a needle. But afterwards, it shouldn’t be bad.” Sam remarked.

Colby commented, "Plus we would give you our blo-"

Sam smacked him in the arm, glaring, "Dude, how about we ease into that conversation?"

"You would give me your blood? To what?" I queried.

They both paused, "...Drink."

I narrowed my eyes, "Humans can drink vampire blood?"

"Yes. And apparently they like it. A lot." Colby laughed.

Sam smirked, "He dated a girl once that got really into his blood. So much so she stalked him for it."

"Jesus," I mumbled. "Wait, was that-?"

"Ashley, yeah." Colby nodded.

I gasped, "Oh my god, I thought she was just crazy."

"Well, she was. Off of vampire blood." Sam chuckled.

"Our blood can give a euphoric feeling to the person that drinks it. So sometimes people react to it like it’s a drug." Colby mentioned.

Sam continued, "But it heals you, which is why we give it in the first place. If we drink from you, you drink ours."

"So... will you do it? Be our blood donor?" Colby asked, a nervous smile on his lips.

I took a minute, weighing the pros and cons in my mind. I exhaled, nodding, "Sure."

Both of them grinned excitedly. "Thank you, Y/N. You have no idea how much this helps us."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

The tour began a couple days later, all of us meeting at the airport and flying to our first stop, New York City. The meet and greet, sponsored by Zumiez, was being held in a large theater. It was gorgeous and very spacious. The nice thing was that I got my own little dressing room, filled with snacks and anything else I had requested. I was surprised at how weirdly relaxing my day had been, having just sat around and worked on a few things for my actual job.

Sam and Colby hadn't fed on me yet, and I was getting worried. How often do they need to drink? Are they both going to do it at once? Is it actually going to hurt? What-?

A soft knock at my door brought me out of my thoughts. I walked over to the door, opening it slowly. Sam stood, leaning against the door frame. "Can I come in?"

I nodded, opening the door more for him. "What's up?"

"Would you be okay with me drinking from you now? I know it's kind of last minute, but I promise next time I'll give you more of a heads up. Or maybe we could make a schedule or something." He laughed awkwardly.

"Can I ask some questions before we do it?" I requested, sitting down on the couch.

He agreed, leaning against the vanity across from me. "Of course. Whatever you want to know."

"How often do you guys need to drink?" I questioned.

"Once a day is usually our go to. More sometimes if we're really hungry or if we skipped a day." He admitted plainly.

"Do you both have to drink from me simultaneously?" I continued.

Sam shook his head, "No. If anything, it's better that we do it separately, especially since this is the first time you're having someone feed off of you."

"So Colby is gonna feed off of me later?" I asked, relaxing back against my seat.

"Maybe. He might skip today and feed tomorrow. That's what he was thinking of doing. He's a bit stronger than me when it comes to..." Sam cleared his throat, "urges."

"Oh... Have you guys ever... you know?" I mimed slicing my throat, killing someone.

He gaped at me, "My God no. We know how to stop before it ever gets to that point. The last thing we want to do is kill someone. So you don't need to worry. Plus, too much human blood makes us high."

"Really?" I snorted.

"Yeah. We only learned that from a random vampire we met in Vegas, so it might be a lie. We haven't exactly tested that theory." He commented.

"Okay..." I exhaled, "I think I'm ready."

He walked towards me, smiling politely. "Alright. Come here."

I slowly stood up, stepping towards him. He placed his hands on my waist, holding me in place.

He locked eyes with me, "If it hurts, you tell me and I'll stop, okay?"

"Yes sir." I saluted teasingly.

His face dropped, "I'm serious, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you. Neither of us do."

"I know. I appreciate the concern." I sighed, "Just drink."

He nodded, cupping one side of my face gently. He turned my head so my neck was more exposed. He lowered his head into my throat, breathing me in for a moment. My heart skipped a beat, confused and overwhelmed. I hadn't realized how intimate this was going to be.

Suddenly, he opened his mouth, sinking his fangs in. I winced, grabbing his forearms to steady myself. He took a gulp of my blood, a very quiet moan falling from his lips. I could feel my blood leave my body, my life draining gradually. My legs began to go limp, unable to hold up my body weight. Sam caught me, pressing me closer into his warm embrace. He grunted, pulling his mouth away, licking up the excess blood that spilt from the bite.

"Are you okay, Y/N? Talk to me." He held my face, making me focus on him.

I slurred my words a bit, "I feel... okayyyy."

"Here, let's sit you down and give you some of my blood." Sam walked me to the couch, placing me down. He sat behind me, leaning me against him. He bit into his wrist, blood gushing from it. "Drink, Y/N."

He pressed his wrist to my mouth, forcing my lips to open. I tasted his blood, grimacing at the taste. But suddenly, it tasted amazing. Like everything sweet I had ever had rolled into one. I wrapped my lips over his bite, drinking from him quickly. I had never been this thirsty for something before in my life. It was like being on the brink of dehydration and finding a whole bottle of water. I placed my hands on the back of his arm, needing him more in my mouth.

"There you go, baby girl. Drink up." Sam cooed, rubbing my hair softly.

I moaned against him, my body buzzing. My one hand dropped down onto his thigh, gripping it. Erotic thoughts crowded my thoughts, another groan leaving my mouth.

He pulled his arm away, sitting me up instantly. "That's enough, Y/N. Don't want to get you high."

I felt a whine fall from my lips, embarrassment heating up my cheeks as I realized what I did. "Oh, um, shit. My bad, Sam. Sorry."

"No, you're okay," he assured me, standing up. "I've heard it's hard for humans to stop once they've started, so we kinda have to yank you away from us."

I could suddenly feel my damp underwear press against me, my face burning up more. "I-I get it. Thanks for doing that. It felt like I couldn't stop. A-Are you okay?"

"Yeah, already healed." He showed his wrist, the bite gone. "Make sure to drink plenty of water and eat something. You'll probably actually feel hungry soon."

I pursed my lips. "Thanks. I'll make sure to do that."

Sam took a few steps towards the door, stopping abruptly. He spun back, his eyes wide. "Oh my God, Y/N, I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you something!"

I blinked, "What?

"Having our blood in your system... it might make you dream about us." He stated.

I chuckled, "Wait really? That's weird."

"Yeah. But um... the dreams might be a bit on the... sexual side?" He grimaced.

My face dropped, "What."

"That's what some people, girls, have said to us in the past," he mentioned. "I don't know if it's true, but it can happen. So I just want you to be aware."

I mumbled, "Would have been nice to know about this beforehand..."

Sam replied, his expression softened. "I apologize, really. It just slipped my mind. I haven't drank from someone directly in a while so I totally forgot."

"Hey, it's alright. It's just a dream." I added, "It might not even happen."

He grinned, "Exactly."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

It happened.

It very much happened.

The dream itself was odd, all over the place, and I barely remembered any of it. All I knew was that I woke up hot, sweating, and aching to be fucked. By specifically Sam. That, tied with literally soaking my underwear as he drank from me.... I was not excited to keep this job up.

Even if the pay was phenomenal.

But maybe things would get easier. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after we got into a routine.

The next day they told me that they would make sure to have one of them only feeding on me once a day, that was I wasn't 'overworked'. Sam would go on even days, Colby on odds. And today was odd.

It was midday, the boys already a couple hours into their meet and greet. I waited backstage in a small hallway, scrolling through Instagram. Colby hadn't drank from me, and I wondered if he even planned to.

I heard footsteps coming towards me, heavy on the heel. I looked up and spotted Colby. He gave me a light smile, growing closer to me.

"Hey, are you okay? Shouldn't you be out on stage meeting fans?" I questioned, squinting at him.

"We are. We're taking a ten minute break." He responded, pressing his back against the wall by me.

"Oh, that's good. You guys have been at it for..." I checked my watch, "Four hours, wow."

Colby interrupted, "I know this is last minute to ask you, but can I... get a drink?"

"Right here? Now?" I pointed to the hallway.

"Yeah. No one is coming down this hallway. Security is making sure of that." He stated firmly.

I lowered my voice, "Do they know?"

"Of course." He bit his lip, "I'm sorry to do this right now, but I'm worried if I wait until after, I might... snap, on someone."

My eyes widened, "Oh... We wouldn't want that."

"No, we would not." He laughed nervously.

"Um, yeah. Go ahead." I stood up, taking a deep breath as I looked at him.

"Here, put your hands on my shoulders. I don't want you to fall over." He directed.

"Okay." I giggled, doing what he said. He lightly placed his hands on my hips, pushing closer to me. I did my best not to shudder, his closeness making my heart erratic. I turned my neck towards the wall, feeling his breath fan across my skin. I inhaled, and felt his teeth sink in quickly. I gasped, the pain lasting for a moment. I cupped his shoulders hard as he drank from me, slowly draining my blood into himself. He hummed, his hands slipping up my back and pulling me in deeper. I sighed, pleasure taking over my senses.

It felt good to have Colby this close, to feel him drink from me. That thought alone made my heart skip.

Colby pulled away, looking at me hesitantly, "Are you okay? I heard your heart stop for a second."

"Wha? Yeah, I'm fine." I could feel my hands tremble, "I think I forgot to breathe."

"Well, take some of my blood." He bit his wrist, pushing it towards me.

"I don't know, I think I'm okay." I argued half-heartedly.

"Drink, Y/N. Don't be stubborn." Colby smirked playfully at me.

I glared back sassily, leaning towards his bite. I placed my mouth on it as he pressed it further into my mouth. His hand rested softly on my side as my body turned into him, my back pressing against his front. As I spun, his hand drifted lower, touching the top of my thigh.

I sucked his blood down, the sweetness driving me crazy immediately. It was different from Sam's, but just as addictive. He chuckled deeply at my eagerness, allowing me to wrap my hands around his arm to keep him close.

"It's okay darling. Drink up. I'm not going anywhere." He whispered low.

My blood raced at his words, a whimper falling from my lips. I could feel it again, the ache between my legs. But this time I didn't care. All I could think about was his blood, or his cock. And both were making me wet.

He pulled back suddenly, a 'pop' noise echoing off the fluorescent lighted walls from my mouth. "Y/N, while I would allow you to drink from me for forever, I gotta get back."

"I-I-I," I took a deep breath, getting my bearings again, "Yeah. That's, um, probably for the best."

"Are you okay? Do you need me to stay with you?" He questioned, looking me over.

"No. Go ahead. I'll be alright." I confirmed.

He pressed his forehead against mine sweetly, "Hey, I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner about the whole dream thing. How was it last night? Did you dream of Sam?"

I stepped back, blushing. "N-No. No, I didn't. I honestly can't remember my dream."

He beamed, "Well that's good. Maybe it will be the same tonight."

I nodded. "Hopefully."

~~\ /~~\ /~~

We were over a week into this arrangement and I felt like I was losing my mind.

Every day one of them was feeding on me, and every night I had a dirty dream about them. It didn't matter if I only had a sip of their blood or a lot. If their blood was in my system, I was dreaming about them fucking me senseless. And that's all I wanted. I couldn't even look at them without feeling like I wanted to rip their clothes off and beg them to fuck me.

It was embarrassing, tormenting, and made me feel insane. And also incredibly hot.

Luckily tonight was our first night off of the tour. We decided to all go out to eat and drink once it got late. Sam and Colby told me that they planned to find someone else to feed on, or possibly hit up a local blood bank, so I could rest easy tonight knowing they weren't going to feed on me.

God knows I needed the break...

Even though Sam and Colby's blood had been out of my system for a day, I still felt this overwhelming urge to fuck them. I couldn't deny that feeling this way left me confused beyond belief. Sure, they were good looking guys, and at times I had thought about kissing them or what it would be like to date them, but I never gave it more than a passing thought. But now all I could think about was them inside of me, taking me and doing what they wan-

No. No. No. Not tonight. Tonight I would relax, unwind, and drink.

And I did just that. I drank, and drank, and drank. The world felt a little off balance, a bit too spinny for my liking. I leaned against the wall of the bar, staring at the dance floor lights.

Sam sauntered over to me, "Heyyy, Y/N. You okay?"

"I'm Gucci, my dude," I snickered. I pointed at his drink, "Wait, vampires can get drunk?"

"Oh yeah. Especially since we didn't drink tonight." He admitted, then laughed. “Did you think we were acting all those times you saw us at parties plastered?”

"What really? I thought you guys planned to get some from..." I waved my hand around, "somewhere."

"We were, but it was a bust. Or our connection fell through." He shrugged it off, "But don't worry, we'll figure it out."

"I mean... you could always drink from me." I responded, ignoring the dull ache in my stomach.

He shook his head, "No, no. This is your night off. You deserve it. Don't worry about us."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Are you sure?"

"Of course, Y/N." He confirmed.

Colby stumbled over to us, saying something in Sam's ear. "Hey, we're gonna head back to the hotel. You ready to leave?"

"Actually... yeah. I think I've drank enough tonight." I giggled, walking through the crowd to the exit with Sam and Colby.

"Well, if you need to sober up a bit, our blood could help." Colby stated.

I huffed, "It's my night off."

"...From being drank from," Colby chuckled. "But if you want our blood, you can have some. Take your pick."

I glanced at the both of them, sighing. "How about we wait until we're back at the hotel, yeah? Then I'll figure that out."

The ride home was tense, or at least it was for me. I felt like both boys were looking at me, waiting for me to make my choice. My skin grew hot under their stare, the ache coming back again.

C'mon. This was supposed to be my one night off.

Entering the hotel, the boys locked arms with me gently, helping me to the elevator.

I smiled lazily, "You don't need to help me. I'm not that drunk."

"Really? You sure about that?" Sam smirked.

"Trust me." I mumbled, "I sobered up in the car."

“Well that's good. But you should still have some of our blood.” Colby persisted.

The elevator 'dinged' softly, the doors opening slowly. I walked down the hallway towards my room, the boys following right behind me. I pulled out my key card, swiping it and yanking open my door.

I whined, trying to pull my shoes off to no avail. "Remind me to never get drunk in heels again. It sucks." I flopped down on the bed, groaning into the cover.

"So, do you want us to leave? We can always do this in the morning." Sam asked.

I picked my head up, "No, it's okay. I'll be honest, I still haven't made a decision about who to drink from."

"Well take a second if you want to." Colby spoke.

"There's no need." I sat up, turning to them. "I don't want to do it out of order so... drink from me first."

He frowned. "What? No, it's your day off."

"It's fine, Colby. I know it is, but you guys didn't eat... drink, today." I assured him.

Colby looked over at Sam accusingly, and he shrugged. "I accidentally let it slip."

"You usually are a blabbermouth when you're drunk." I teased.

Colby shook his head, "We'll be fine."

"I mean... maybe we should drink, if she's okay with it." Sam argued lightly.

"I am okay with it. Plus, you'll just give me your blood anyway. So then we'll be even." I remarked.

Colby's expression softened, Sam's face matching his. "Are you sure? I don't want you to do this if you don't want to."

"I totally don't mind, guys. Really." I insisted.

Colby paused for a minute, then nodded. "Okay, but we're only taking a little from you."

"That's fine by me." I stood up, swaying back and forth as my lightheadedness faded. The boys placed hands on my back, keeping me from falling.

Sam snorted, "Yeah, we're definitely only taking a little."

They gave each other a glance, Sam sliding towards me first. I gazed at him, snaking my eyes across his face, then tilted my head back.

His voice came out in a husky whisper, "Aren't you eager..."

I rolled my eyes, "Just do it before I change my-"

My breath hitched, Sam's fangs sinking deep into my skin. I grabbed his arms, bracing myself as he drank from me. He grunted lowly, his body firmly against mine.

I peered out of the corner of my eye, watching Colby watch us. He studied my face, taking in my expression. My eyes fluttered as Sam pulled away, stopping much sooner than he usually would.

"Fuck... I needed that." He wiped his mouth, making sure to lick the excess blood off his hand. My core throbbed at his actions. I bit my lip to keep from moaning. "Your turn, Colby."

He locked eyes with me, "You good?"

I stammered, "S-Sure. Go ahead."

"Let me know if it's too much, okay?" He uttered.

I nodded, moving my head to the other side and allowing him access. He lowered his mouth onto my neck, biting softly. I exhaled, my hands holding onto his arms. He took a few sips from me, then pulled back. "Wait, let me get a better angle."

I squinted at him, confused. He circled around, stopping behind me. His hands slithered to my hips, tugging me closer.

"Much better." He grunted, then sank his teeth into me hastily. I gasped, surprised by the force.

I looked up at Sam, his eyes gazing at us with a devilish glint. He cocked his head to the side, slinking over to us inch by inch. "I think you should take some of my blood now, Y/N. Before you get too light headed."

He bit into his wrist, placing it in front of me. "Drink up."

I leaned forward some, taking his blood into my mouth. I sighed, euphoria hitting me instantly. I had never had one of them drink from me while the other gave me blood. My mind was race, my heart pounding loudly against my chest. My body in flames from pleasure and pain. And I couldn't tell which one I liked more.

Sam's fangs dazzled in the light as he spoke, "Oh, Colby. We forgot to tell her something again."

Colby released his mouth from my neck, swallowing, "And what could that be Sam?"

Sam's eyes landed on mine, almost empty of feeling, "When you exchange blood like this with us... it makes you ours."

I furrowed my brow at him, keeping my mouth on his wound. My voice came out muffled, "Ours?"

"Yeah. Ours. See, we might have deceived you a little bit." Sam shrugged.

"Our bad." Colby snickered.

"He and I have been into you for a while, Y/N. But we knew you only ever saw us as a friend. Plus, we didn't want to have to fight over you so we thought the best course of action would be to just... make you both of ours." Sam grinned evilly, "And God, you made it so easy. Just following along without question."

Colby pressed his lips against my ear, keeping his voice deep and low. "With our blood running through your system, you will always be ours. You will be just as obsessed with us as we are with you."

My mind and body barely took their words in, the only thing I wanted was more of Sam's blood. My cunt pulsed as his blood invaded my system, my mind only thinking of him and all of the things I wanted him to do to me.

Sam yanked his wrist away, a desperate mewl escaping my mouth.

My mind was foggy, my head catching up to what I just heard. "W-W-What? Are you guys-?"

Colby spun me, pushing me back into Sam. He wrapped his arm around me tight, biting into my neck. Colby did the same to his wrist, placing my mouth on it. I grunted against him, glaring at him for a moment before all of my anger melted into pure bliss.

Colby's blood mixed with Sam's... and suddenly I wanted nothing more than for both of them to take me. God I could almost feel them inside of me, touching me in all the right spots.

"There you go, baby. Such a good girl for us." Colby smirked.

Sam pulled his mouth away, just to place it against the hollow of my ear, "Our good girl."

I could feel some of my mind come back to me for a split second. I hissed against Colby's wrist, "Fuck you."

He scoffed, "Sweetheart, you can say that all you want, but I know deep down you don't mean it. Well, you don't mean it in that way."

"Don't lie to us, baby girl." Sam sang angrily, latching his mouth back onto my bite.

"You know how we know that? I've heard you every night of this tour moan our names in your sleep. I've heard the way you whimper and cry and beg for us to fuck you when you touch yourself," Colby growled, his eyes intense as they bore into mine. "Don't deny it, Y/N.

Sam yanked back his mouth as Colby pulled his wrist away. I panted, keeping my distance from them and pressing myself against the desk. They stared me down, taking me in like prey.

My legs were shaking, my body tingling everywhere. I felt like I was on fire from the inside out. I had never been so wet in my entire life. I wanted to scream at them, to hate them, to tell them to leave. But everything in my head and body were begging them to stay; to touch me.

Sam stepped towards me, closing the gap between us, "You're ours, Y/N. Doesn't that sound amazing? To be shared by us?"

I couldn't help but nod my head. I wanted to deny it, but it wasn't true.

"No one else can have you like this. Only us." Sam whispered into my ear, turning my head gently to look at him. He leaned in and kissed me deeply, taking my breath away with the feverish kiss. My hand dug into his shirt, holding on it as his tongue tasted mine.

I was ripped away from his kiss as Colby pushed himself against me. He cupped my face, rolling my head towards him. "Only us," he stated. He pressed his lips to mine, his mouth and tongue tender against my own. I whined as I felt Sam begin to kiss my neck, nibbling and sucking on the skin. I could hear him murmur 'ours' over and over again.

Colby removed his mouth from mine, following Sam's lead in kissing and nipping at my neck and body. I was overwhelmed, my chest rising and falling rapidly. I squeezed my eyes shut, still feeling Sam and Colby snake up and down my body with their hands and mouths. A breathy groan escaped my lips, my mind unable to slow down. If they touched the right spot, I would completely come undone.

I needed them. I wanted them. I would do anything for them.

The sound of silence fell over the room. Then, a low ringing took over my hearing. Soon it grew louder and louder and louder. I popped my eyes open, gasping.

I was in my hotel room, and it was bright outside. The ringing was my alarm on my phone going off - 9:30 A.M.

I sat up, my head weighing a thousand pounds. I was in my clothes from the night before, but tucked comfortably into bed.

How the fuck did I get here? Where the hell were Sam and Colby?

It suddenly dawned on me - Oh my God, that was a dream?

There's no way. That felt too real. That can't be right.

I changed quickly, knowing that Sam and Colby would be waiting for me in the lobby so we could travel to the next venue. I never unpacked, so I threw my dirty clothes in my suitcase, and trudged out the door with everything I had brought.

I stumbled down to the lobby, finding Sam and Colby waiting off to the side for me with their luggage. Their assistant was talking to them, along with someone from Zumiez's team, about the upcoming meet and greet.

Colby beamed when he saw me, "Hey, we were wondering if you were gonna make it."

"What happened last night?" I glared.

Sam turned at the sound of my voice, "Do you not remember...?"

"Just tell me what happened. Please." I answered, short.

Colby inhaled, "Well, we planned to... continue drinking in your room. But once we got there, you flopped on your bed and passed out."

"We figured you were too tired after all the traveling and drinking that we just decided to call it a night." Sam added.

Colby commented, "I took your shoes off before tucking you in. I know you hate falling asleep with heels on."

"Oh." I vaguely remembered falling onto my bed. And my shoes were off when I woke up… "I could have sworn something else happened."

Colby gasped lowly, "Did you have a dream about us?"

I immediately blushed, "Um, you could say that."

"What was it about? Tell me." He pleaded.

"I don't think you want to know, to be honest. I squirmed under their gaze, doing my best to ignore the parts of the dream my body couldn't forget. "It was kind of all over the place. And you guys were a bit... mean, to say the least."

"Oh, shit. Well, sorry that my dream self was an asshole to you." Colby apologized.

Sam agreed, "Ditto."

I half smiled, exhaling. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Y/N. You're our..." Sam smiled, "best friend. We would never be mean to you."

"Unless you want us to be, of course." Colby taunted, a mischievous look in his eye.

[504py]

Candlelight and Calluses - Knight!Leon Kennedy/Reader

A particularly unruly thunderstorm begs you to ask your knight to stay by your bedside, just for a little bit.

i see quite a bit of bodyguard leon fics so i always thought he'd fit into a knight au rather well. art by me!!

Historical inaccuracies, I'm terrible at old-timey speak LOL, reader referred to as "my lady" but no other gendered terms or descriptors besides that, no use of Y/N, relationship is dubious so this could be seen as platonic, romantic, or however you'd like.

1, 2, 3

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It seemed like life would continue like normal after your former knight was discharged for stealing from your mother, and Leon came to replace him. He definitely feels more trained, more skilled, more refined, someone very reliable, so you can see how he was hired so quickly.

Somehow, you just can't get used to his presence, though.

You see him at very scheduled times of day. He sleeps in a room close to yours, mother said its safer to have him closer at night in case someone breaks in. If you're awake early enough, you can catch him leaving his room. You see him training in the courtyard through the window you pass by when you head to the kitchen. He always escorts you to your bedroom and says goodnight when you decide to call it a day, and stays posted near your door for a few minutes, before retreating to his own for the night.

Tonight, you ask him to stay just a little longer. Rainy days never really bothered you, but the thunder today was particularly bad. It was painfully loud and booming, each strike and roar making you flinch in the anticipation that the ceiling might cave in on you any moment and swallow you whole. You knew he was there to protect you, that's the main reason he was here, but your cheeks burned at the loss of your pride when you give him your request.

His expression, illuminated by the lantern in his hand and highlighting the sharp planes of his visage, is slightly different than usual at your query. His dark eyebrows are slightly raised, the frown on his lips not as deep as it usually is. His eyes are softer.

"Of course, my lady."

You head inside your bedroom, your sight settling on your nightwear set on your bed by one of your maids. You turn to Leon, asking that he leave while you change, but his back is already turned to you. You figure he got the hint, and you undress.

He's listening intently to the sounds of cloth shuffling, till he hears your weight dip your mattress, "Have you finished dressing, my lady?"

"Yes, I'm all done." You reply. Your voice is weaker than usual, perhaps scared that the thunderstorm will hear, and a crackling boom will respond, instead of Leon.

He turns back to you, seeming to pause for a moment, thinking of what to do. You've never seen him do that, perhaps this situation is new to him. That thought makes your face warm in shame.

"I... Shall I stay in the room, or shall I stay at my post, milady?" His voice is quieter than it usually is, too. Admittedly, it's a little hard to hear each other with how loud the rain is.

"If... If it would be alright, Sir Leon, could you stay by the side of my bed? Just until the storm subsides. I'd hate to keep you here for too long."

"It is no trouble to me, my lady, I promise."

He makes his way over to you, confidence in each step despite being so unfamiliar with such a strange, intimate request.

"...You can grab that chair by my vanity, Sir Leon, you don't have to stand."

He obliges, grabbing said chair and setting it by your bed.

He's dressed in a simple cream-colored linen blouse and trousers. You can see his neck. You breathe out a laugh realizing that this is probably the first time you've ever seen it. He wonders what you find amusing. You rarely ever see him without any armor on, maybe just a glimpse when he leaves his room in the morning, and even when he's not in full steel plating, he's usually donning chainmail.

"...Is it heavy?" You mumble, drowsily.

"What is, my lady?"

"The armor you wear. Is it heavy, Sir Leon?"

"Well... Not particularly, milady, but perhaps I've just gotten used to it. It does get hot, though."

"Mm..." You hum, "Always wanted to try it on, always wondered what it was like... I know mother and father won't let me, though." You chuckle.

Leon smiles a little, maybe the first time you've seen him do so. "Maybe I'll let you try on my helmet someday, milady."

"Really?" The drowsy smile you send him makes him feel warmer, "That'd be nice... I always thought the armor you knights wore looked so fashionable." Your eyes close.

He laughs slightly, and the sound is clearer now. Without realizing, the storm had passed, and you feel at ease. Leon waits a little longer, counting your breaths and seeing if your eyes will open again. He thinks the way your eyelashes rest against your cheeks look beautiful.

"Sir Leon?" You mumble, barely legible.

"Yes, milady?"

"Have a good night..." You add, before dozing off.

"You as well, my lady. Good night."

He waits a few minutes more, like he usually does when he escorts you to your door. He's never watched you sleep before, despite this being part of his nightly routine. He wishes a little more that thunderstorms would happen more habitually so he could do this more often.

Leon gets up, and quietly places your chair back to your vanity. He returns to take his lantern from your bedside table, and he pauses, watching you for a few beats more, before retreating to his bedroom for the night.

"...Calling me just Leon would be fine." He ends, with a whisper of your name.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

[scarletwinterxx]

fight my way - choi seungcheol imagine

hellloooo, so for like the entrance part of this fic just imagine that scene of hyungsik in strong girl namsoon when he walks in the police station😅🤣 yea just imagine cheol doing that. that's where i got the inspiration for this imagine

anyways i hope you like it!

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

All heads turned when Choi Seungcheol walked in, slamming the double doors open strolling in with hurried steps. You noticed the guy beside you jump from his seat while some of the police officers looked alarmed when the doors loudly banged against the wall.

He quickly zeros in on you, running towards where you sat then he crouched beside you immediately taking your hand in his

"JAGI! Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see your hand"

"I'm fine" you assured him, he still checks though. Once he's done he stands up and faces the officer Infront of you.

"What seems to be the problem here, officer? Why is my fiancé being held here?"

"Well she-" "SHE ATTACKED ME!" the man seating a few seats from beside you shouts, all heads turn towards his direction

"Yah, do you want to be punched again?" you asked him, you feel Seungcheol's hand on your shoulder as if he's telling to you calm down and he's got it.

"SHE DID! LOOK AT THIS!" the guy points at his swollen left eye, it's not that bad but you bet it'll be worse in a couple of hours. You did get him good.

You were having dinner out with your workmates when one of them got harassed by this dude. When your workmate disappeared from your table, you saw her by the restaurant bar and a man being touchy with her. Noticing the uncomfortable expression on her face, you decided to intervene.

A few hours later, you're here at the police station.

"She got you good" you hear your fiancé mumble under his breath

"I'm going to press charges against you!" he shouts again

"You?! You're going to press charges when you were the one who harassed my friend?! Wah the audacity. What makes you think you can just put your hands on a woman just like that huh? and when I do the same and land my fist on your face you're complaining?? Tell me. Make it make sense" you challenge him.

It seems like the punch wasn't enough to knock some sense into him and you're never one to back down whenever you see something wrong.

Meanwhile the officer in front of you just looks back and forth, letting you rip at the man. Seungcheol bites back the proud smile for now, he lets you teach the man the lesson he needed to hear.

"I- well- Still! You're wrong for attacking me!"

"I attacked you?! You attacked my friend! Getting your grubby hands on her, saying she was asking for it. You deserved that punch and more"

"YAH YOU BIT-"

"I'd watch what you'll say next Sir, I'm being respectful here because we're Infront of my fiancé and we might both end up behind bars so if I were you I'd choose my next words wisely" Seungcheol cuts him off before he finishes his sentence, his expression quickly changing to a scary one. The look that can quiet down the whole place.

You snicker at the guy, seeing the intimidated look on his face before facing front. "My friend is just waiting for her boyfriend to come, she will be pressing charges. Is there anything else you need from me?" you ask

"We have the security footage now, we did see him approach your friend first and started being touchy with her. It happened for a while, the video also showed she did try to get away a few times but he kept on touching her then you came over. That's when all of that happened" the officer points at the guy, pertaining to his swollen eyes

"Is she getting charged for anything?"

"It showed in the video too that he shoved you first before you defended yourself"

"He pushed you?" Seungcheol looks down at you, brows furrowed

"Yeah he did, he still won't let go of my friend so I went up to him. He pushed me when I tried to tell him off, that's when I punched him"

"YOU CAME AT ME!"

"Can I press charges against him?" Seungcheol asks

"CHEOL! It's fine, I'm fine. I'm not the one attacked here, we'll deal with it later" you looked up at him, speaking through your eyes.

Seungcheol might give of alpha vibes but one look from you and he'd heel.

"Is there anything else?" you ask the officer "That's it, we got your testimony. You may go now" you thank the officer before standing up from your seat and lacing your hands with your fiancé's.

You hear the other man's protests but you don't look back, going out the same door Seungcheol walked in a few minutes ago.

Before you go, you talked to your workmate and made sure she's okay. Her boyfriend arrived shortly then you bid goodbye.

The two of you walk out the station hand in hand, Seungcheol helps you get inside the car before jogging over the driver's side. He waits until you're buckled in before driving away.

You didn't like the silence. No music, just the low hum of the engine and your own heartbeat.

"Cheol, are you mad at me?"

"Of course not, baby. Pissed at that man for putting his hands on you? Pushing you? Absolutely. I don't even let mosquitos bite you, and he thinks he can just do that? Some men really aren't shit. Sorry" he mumbles an apology after swearing, always careful and respectful when he's around you.

To Seungcheol, you're the most precious, most important person in his life. He would do anything and everything to make sure you're always safe. He also knows you're a protector, you protect those who are close to you. You always do right, ready to defend. Hence why he swore to be your defender too. Be your number one protector.

You smile upon hearing your fiancé’s words, reaching out to squeeze his thigh. He takes your hand and laces it with his own, feeling the metal band on your finger against his skin.

"You sure you're okay? You aren't hurt anywhere?" his voice suddenly turning more gentle, the Cheol only you get to witness

"I'm good, baby. I promise" you pull your intertwined hands, kissing the back of his hand before resting it on your lap.

"Give me that man's name"

"Why?"

"If he's doing it to random women, then about those in his workplace or other women he knows? I'll take care of it, don't you worry"

You look at him, watching him closely. He feels your stare on him so he squeezes your hand to assure you, "I'm not going to get in any trouble I promise"

"Okay. No punching alright?"

When he don't say anything you say his name

"Fine, I promise no punching, I'll just ask Mingyu to do it for me"

"Gyu wouldn't hurt a fly, he's all height no fight" you chuckle

"Oh by the way, Han has something to give to you. It's at the back"

When you stop at a red light, Seungcheol lets go of your hand to reach behind your seat to get a black plastic bag then gives it to you

"What's this?" you look inside to see it's content

"Tofu? Really?"

"Han said to give it to you" he laughs, taking your hand again before resuming the drive

"You tell your other wife I'll punch him next time I see him"

[lucrativesoul]

Welcome Home

summary: you finally graduated college and are home free for the summer, planning to spend as much time as possible with your best friend. what you weren't planning for, however, was the incredible sight of her older brother, Leon, who had drastically changed after all those years. you had never thought you would fall for your best friend's brother.

pairing: leon kennedy (re2) x fem! reader

word count: 9.3k

warnings: smut, bathroom sex, public sex, fingering, dom(ish) leon

a/n: guys, thank you endlessly for 300+ followers, 250+ reblogs and all those likes! i'd like you all to take a moment to read this, apologies... i absolutely love writing. I've been writing for ten years! crazy. i do it for fun, and because i want to put out the content that i want to consume and i want to be that outlet for people who don't write but want to consume, that is just as fair! a while ago, while writing this, my laptop gave me a scare. i'm realizing now that its a 5 year old macbook, which, in apple timeline, means it might be on the way out at the blink of an eye. if you are feeling generous at all, i have created a ko-fi. it is absolutely not necessary, because i'm not doing this blog for money, but if you really love my work and want other ways to support me, it's there. i will never be upset at no donations, but i made it in hopes that i'm on this blog for a long time. so sorry for the rambling, i really hope you guys enjoy this one, and i will be back soon for a fifth fic. love u!

No matter how many young adult fiction books you read, how many love story tropes you think you have seen, there was just one that seemed so unreasonable, it was almost laughable. Because, after all, you spent way too much time with this person to ever even see him as attractive, it had never even crossed your mind. Come on, your best friend’s brother? The boy who was so ungracious, messy, impolite, and had a crude, childish sense of humor? It was just unrealistic.

Until… It was realistic.

For all your life, you looked at Leon Kennedy as the young, bumbling boy who tripped over his own two feet at any given opportunity, ready to make jokes at inappropriate times and constantly worked overtime to barge in when you and your best friend were hanging out. He was only two years older than you, but his personality read the same age, if not, younger. Boys will be boys…

You always knew that college would change a person, and you can’t deny that about yourself, but it was so hard to look at the people you were closest to and imagine that they, too, changed with college. Your best friend was still the same person you knew since middle school, and all those years that you knew Leon, he had never changed, until he left for college himself. You were confident in knowing that when he came back, he would be the same exact person, just… older.

You could not have been more wrong.

“These days could not go by any faster.” Your best friend whined to you over the phone, a daily routine between the two of you. “I need you home ASAP, Leon is driving me crazy. He’s being so loud.”

Yep, that sounded pretty in character for him. “I know, just five more days, and I’m home free, forever. I wish commencement wasn’t even happening at this rate, I’m wasting away here.”

You were finishing up your last days as a college senior at a school that was a thousand miles away from home. The scholarship opportunity was incredible, and you could not say no to this offer. Your best friend chose to stay local, which you inwardly criticized, but would never say to her. You knew her parents could have afforded to send her here, who needs that big of a house for a family of four anyway?!

Commencement was set to happen on Thursday, and it was currently Sunday. Your own parents had flown in to watch you walk the stage, and while you knew your best friend would have dropped everything to come as well, her school chose to hold theirs on the same exact day. Figures.

“I miss you guys. The summers I came home just weren't enough. I have to say, I’m so glad this internship bullshit is over. It feels like I haven’t ever even lived with you.”

You heard her groan on the other line. “I know! It’s so stupid. Why would a program even make it so you could only intern in the summer? Don't they know you are only in your twenties once?!”

You laughed at her remark, gazing off as you continued the conversation. Classes were over and exams were concluded, at least you had a healthy pile of books to go through to pass the time. You decided to worry about the logistics of taking them home at a later date.

There’s something so innocent about getting lost in the world of young adult romance. Some would say it makes their own lives dreary, coming to the conclusion that they could never live out these fantasies in the real world, but to you, it felt real anyways. It only made you happier. It puts some optimism in your life.

The comfy plane read you chose was about a high school girl, absolutely smitten over the five-years-older brother of her best friend. This type of thing, you thought, just seemed too… fairytale, to be real. In no world where you knew someone as a child could you grow up and think they were an object of fantasy. You tried picturing you and Leon in this situation. Never!

Admittedly, you haven’t seen Leon in like 4 years. The last time you saw him, it was right before you left for college, and your major requires summer internships which leave a very small window for home visits. You never crossed paths during those times. From what your friend tells you, he’s rarely home now, he must have migrated to a new group of friends in college and found other passions. Good for him, you thought, you wish you could say the same, but you needed the income from whatever job you landed from your internship.

He was never really a tiny boy in high school, he was of a pretty average build and rivaled some of the football players, but he was not an athletic kid. You can’t imagine him changing that much more, your best friend never talked about him like that, obviously, so, you only had to imagine after the last time you saw him.

From your own personal standpoint, it was just impossible to believe in this best friend’s brother trope. You shut the book and closed your eyes, willing the plane to start moving faster.

As soon as your plane touched down, you whipped your phone out to send a text: As soon as all this shit is put away, I’m coming straight over.

Predictably, less than three minutes later: YES!! All nighter, we’re 14 again. I have drinks in the fridge.

Willing yourself through all the pleasantries of coming home, promising other relatives you would be by in a few days when you are settled, you merely threw your suitcase down into your room before dashing out to your car, knowing the route to your best friend’s house even with your eyes closed. 

A tight, running start hug was the intro you both needed as a fresh start to the summer.

“Please tell me you are home for good now, they aren't making you do any more summer internships?”

You laughed as you followed her into the house. It felt like it’s been forever since you’ve been in this large house’s lived-in walls. “No, thank god. I’m officially done. Except for job hunting, but I’m putting that off for as long as I can get away with it.”

“Agreed.”

As you followed her up the steps to her room, snacks and drinks spilling over your arms, a loud cacophony rang out through the house, coming from the garage. “What the hell is that?” You stopped short, listening to it through the closed door.

“Wow, that’s how I really know it’s been forever since you’ve been here. I’m so used to it now. It’s a band that Leon is a part of. The ‘rents loaned out a car space in the garage.”

Wow, you thought, multiple things to dissect here. One: this has been going on for some time now, and you never knew. You didn’t blame your friend for not bringing it up, it wasn’t weird to not mention a new hobby of her brother’s. Two: Leon apparently knew how to play an instrument. You couldn’t recall anytime seeing him play anything, and he had never expressed an interest in singing, so that was difficult to digest. Three: their parents would give up a car space just for them to do this. They still had two car spaces left in there.

“God, it’s really been that long, huh? I’ll have to get him to spill all about this whenever he comes out.”

You heard a groan from in front of you on the stairs, and you hopped up to be beside her, headed to her bedroom. “If you can even catch him. He’s like a slippery snake. Plus, he’s so private, I don't know what happened to him. Anyway, you should come over tomorrow night and pregame with me and the girls, cause…” 

She droned on, and while you still had half of your brain paying attention to her, you couldn’t help but think about that sentence she just said. Leon’s different now? The slippery snake part didn’t make many waves, you weren’t surprised that a man in his mid twenties didn’t want to be bothered, but you didn’t expect a whole new personality to come out of him. What happened while he was gone? Or, what kind of epiphany did he have?

“Oh, my god, look at this, too. I totally forgot to send you this. I’m so mad you missed it!”

Your best friend shoved a phone in your face, and you took it, grateful for the mental topic switch. It was a group of four girls and five boys, your old friends, standing along a cliffside in bathing suits. You assumed this was the cliff jumping extravaganza you heard about over the phone a couple weeks ago. And, yes, you were also mad you missed it.

“This looked like so much fun, I haven't seen all of them in forever. Maybe we can convince everyone to do it again soon.” You looked up and smiled as your friend laughed. You looked back down to the photo. “Who is this?”

She leaned over you as you zoomed in on a man in the top right, his lower half covered by a girl bending forward for a photo, but you could tell he was incredibly toned. His hair was pushed back with water from the lake below, and a broad smile graced his features. You sensed familiarity, but you had never met this person before.

Your friend scoffs. “Girl, what? That’s Leon.”

“What?!” Has it really been that long since you’ve seen Leon in person? Now that you look at it again, yep, that’s definitely him, but why does he look so different? Thinking back, it wasn’t often you spent time with him around after he graduated high school and went to college. You saw him probably even less than you visited home during your college career, and honestly, it has probably been years since you’ve seen him at all. “He looks so… different.”

“Like I said, I don’t know what happened. Maybe he won’t recognize you either.” You handed her phone back to her. Maybe, you wondered, but you doubted it. Nothing about you changed at all. You woke up every day waiting for a magical overnight nose job and five month glute progress from the gym that you didn’t go to, but it never happened. 

The night carried on, the strange questions about Leon’s college whereabouts pushed to the back of your mind. It felt so good to be back home. The summer was only just getting started, and with the buzz running through your system, you couldn't feel anything except excitement.

“I’m out of water, fuckkk,” You moaned. Your friend giggled at you. 

“Go get some. And don’t fall.” If you were any more sober you would have glared at her for this, reminding you of the time you drunkenly took a tumble down her stairs, but right now, it was only a funny memory as you totally didn’t have an iron grip on the railing as you walked down.

The rest of the house was dark and quiet now. You remembered her saying her parents were somewhere else, so you hadn’t seen them at all tonight, and there was no longer heavy music coming from the garage. You instinctively turned your head that way, like it would magically start up again.

You stumbled over to the refrigerator, yanking it open and hearing all the bottles clink around on the door. It took you a second to collect your bearings, but after a few more seconds, water was located, and you let your eyes readjust to the darkness as you shut the door. A figure in the darkness made you yelp.

“Goddamnit, you scared me!” You placed a hand over your beating heart.

A deep laugh floated through the air at this, but you were still partially blinded. “Hey, you. I’m sorry, I thought you were my sister.”

Leon. 

You blinked hard a few times, willing the night vision to return, and a little bit of your drunkenness away. You took a hard look at the man in front of you, as good of a look as you could. You only saw a silhouette, a dark shirt, hair over his forehead, and he was taller than you, wider, stronger. This was not the Leon you remember from high school.

“Leon. It’s so nice to see you.” You tried your hardest to sound normal, but surely he already knew what the two of you were up to.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Slowly, your vision was returning, and his facial features were becoming prominent. Eyes. Mouth. Smile. “Congratulations on graduating, back home for good now?” 

“Yeah, yes. Thank god. Thank you.” You could now tell you were fumbling over your words, and suddenly wanting nothing more than to go back upstairs. “I’ll be here a lot more often now, so get used to me.” You walked around him back to the stairs, listening to that low chuckle that you got out of him. God, you really needed another drink.

The night and next day bore on with nothing too important left to remember about it, as long as you were in the confort of your home town again getting fucked up with nowhere to be, it was a great time as far as you were concerned. 

Though, despite continuing to drink that night and waking up a little unsteady the next morning, you couldn’t shake that brief encounter you had with Leon. You could barely see him in the dark, but you could already tell he looked different. His build was wider than the last time you saw it, he even looked a little taller. He had only ever been maybe an inch above you, but since he disappeared to college, it looked like he went up at least five. Or maybe you were shrinking. 

You were mad it was so dark and you were on the edge of tipsy and drunk to be able to clearly see him. You saw him in the photo of the outing at the cliffside, but you really didn't want to believe that was him. He was almost… sexy.

Which was crazy. You had never thought of Leon like that. Yes, there was some sort of novelty to having a crush on the only consistent older man in your life whom you weren’t related to, but whenever you came face to face with him, it was just normal. You felt nothing, he was just there. 

But this… this could change everything. Was he actually attractive now? God knows you weren’t the best at being normal around people who you thought were attractive, and that could make things infinitely awkward with being around your best friend so often. And your best friend, what would she even think? You can’t confide in her to tell her you might think her older brother is hot. This was all messed up. This is not how you wanted summer to start.

–

A few days had passed with no rift, and your momentary crisis left with no memory. You discovered, though, as much as you couldn’t wait for summer to roll around so you could be free of your duties, your days were much more boring than you had anticipated. With your past summer internships, you were always busy, and had one or two days a week to rest at most. But now, with the summer sun high in the sky and no requirements of you anymore, you were at a loss of anything to do other than sit by your best friend’s pool, baking in the heat.

“They’re having some start-of-summer party going on in one of the campus houses tonight, are we down?”

You didn’t move your head nor open your eyes as your friend spoke to you. “Yeah, sure. It will be more of a time than drinking with just us.”

She sighed. “You can say that again.”

You pushed yourself up off the chair. “I’ll be back, don’t drown.”

You listened to her sarcastic response as you went inside the house, needing a moment to cool down, and to refill your drink. As you slid the glass door shut, you were greeted with the sound of loud instruments, reminding you of the first night you came here once returning from school. Leon must have had his bandmates come over some time while the both of you were outside, as you don’t remember hearing this, or seeing anyone else. You ignored it, and stalked past the door, headed upstairs to the kitchen.

The music stopped, a door opened, and chatter became clearer without the barrier. You didn’t know who else Leon could have here, you didn’t know his friends, and you were suddenly too aware of the bikini you had on. Whatever, you soothed your anxiety, I look good.

“Oh, hey.” You turned around at the strange voice, not recognizing the person standing at the stairway, headed towards the kitchen. “Now it’s a party.”

“Dude, gross.” A more familiar voice followed quickly behind the quip, and Leon’s head became visible as he climbed the stairs. “Sorry.” He spoke now to you, visibly doing his best to keep eye contact with you. Now you could really feel your half-nakedness. 

“Doesn’t sound like you guys are making much progress out there.” You joked, turning your head back to where you were filling your water bottle. You heard Leon’s friend laugh, making a remark along the lines of blaming other people in the band, but you unintentionally tuned him out.

“We’re trying.” Leon was closer to you now, and when you turned, his friend had disappeared, probably into the bathroom. Leon was grabbing drinks from the fridge, and the two of you were separated by the kitchen island, sunlight illuminating both of you.

His hair was a shade darker than you remembered it being, still blonde, but almost brown. It came down to touch his ears, and the pieces of bangs on his forehead were clumped together with sweat. He had on a gray tank, the ones with the arm holes that go down to your ribcage. His arms, god, those arms–

“Doing anything fun out there?” He walked around the island, even closer to you now, getting cups from the cabinets. 

You shook your head. “Just trying to become a leather couch while I’m still young.” You fixed the top of your water bottle back on, but didn’t move from your spot, taking the chance to talk to Leon.

“That’s the spirit.” He placed the cups down on the counter and leaned on it, clearly standing around to talk to you, too. You noticed a bandage wrapped around his right hand as he crossed his arms.

“What happened there? Start scrapping with the wrong people?” 

He lifted it and looked at it, like he just realized it was there. He laughed softly. “This might sound gross, but it's just a callus that burst open the other day. Right when I was used to holding drumsticks all the time.”

You sighed a gentle laugh. “Doesn’t that hurt, still using it?”

He shook his head. “Nah, I just didn’t want to start touching shit and get it all gross again.” He set his hand back down. You took the silence to ask another question. 

“When did the drums start? That was never a thing as far as I can remember.” He looked down, slowly nodding his head, as if trying to piece together memories of what his life was like the last time he saw you.

He sighed. “I kind of picked it up during college. I thought it was a lot of fun. I knew a lot of guys at the time who were in a bunch of different bands, so they had access to all these instruments, and I tried a bunch, but the only one that stuck was drums. I guess it’s easy and I like it only because I still can’t read sheet music for the life of me.”

You smiled softly at his explanation. Looking at him in the daylight, now, you can see the old him in his features. He grew into his face, his cheekbones slightly more pronounced, and his dimpled chin fitting perfectly into his jawline. His eyes were soft, yet tired. Still the bright blue you remember them being.

“Are you any good?”

He smiled fully at this, looking back up to you. “Of course. I know it sounds like ass right now, but we’re trying out some new stuff. But, and maybe I’m just biased, I think we have some really solid potential.”

You shrugged, a grin still present on your face. “I’ll have to see it to believe it.”

Leon stood up now, grabbing the cups and the still tied together 6-pack. “I agree. We’re doing a local show next Wednesday night. I’m always inviting my sister, but she doesn’t like going alone, and the rest of your friends don’t like that bar.” You smiled at this. Sounds typical of your friends. “Maybe she will come if you will. And, uh, if you’re still with that guy, he can come, too.”

Your brow furrowed at this. “Guy?”

Leon shrugged. “Oh, well, she told me in passing that you were with some guy last summer. From around here.”

You paused to think about this, nearly forgetting your whole past trying to rake your brain for a memory. It then hit you. “Oh, shit, yeah, that was definitely just a summer thing. He was…” A douche, conceited, horrible at sex. “Not the best. I’m not seeing anybody. And definitely not while school was in. I was way too busy for that.” 

He nodded, standing up a little straighter. “Well, that’s good. And fuck that guy.” You giggled at his support. “I think you should come. I’d be happy to see you there.”

And, oddly, for the first time ever speaking with Leon, your stomach did a flip that only ever happened when you were talking to someone whom you liked. It caught you off guard, and your words caught on your throat.

You nodded quickly, using the opportunity to take a deep breath in. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ve got the time to, now.”

“Cool. I won’t disappoint, I promise.” With that, Leon bounded back across the room and down the stairs, opening and shutting the door to the garage. You sighed deeply. You didn’t like the feeling that was creeping up inside of you.

Putting your newfound conundrum aside for the night, you resolved to let loose and get back to enjoying the summer the way you had intended to. You were almost tempted to stick around and listen once his band got started with the music again as you were on your way outside, but decided against it, as your friend would surely be asking what took so long. 

Part of you wished Leon had gone to this little party tonight, considering he knew all of your mutual friends, but he was never the party type before this, and it seemed that college did not change that much either. It would make sense if he had a gig coming up, they must be preparing, but you didn’t picture him to be much of a perfectionist. Maybe that changed as well.

–

“Why are we going to this again?” Your friend asked as she followed you out of her house, locking the door behind her. She seemed awfully quick to keep up with you for complaining about doing something she doesn't want to.

“I don’t know, it gives us something to do. Leon asked me to come. Now you’re coming with me.”

“What? Why did Leon ask you to come? He doesn't ask me.” The two of you slid into her sleek black coupe. 

You shrugged as you fastened the belt. “I saw him the other day when I was here, I came in while we were out by the pool. We were just talking. And he said he does invite you, by the way, but you never go.”

She was the one to shrug this time. “Maybe he does. You think there will be hot men here?”

“We’re both hoping.” You half-assed the response, but you already knew the answer was yes. You could never tell her you think Leon is attractive now. You had been mulling it over the past few days, ever since you spoke to him, and you had no choice but to confirm it. He really, really grew into his body. You could even push the curiosity aside to wonder what it was about college that changed him like that, you were just thankful it happened.

Your local bar looked just as you remembered, dark and looming from the outside, people filing in and out simultaneously. It was much busier than you had ever seen it, but the show was most likely the reason for the sudden influx in customers.

The crowd was a thick mass, and you had trouble even spotting the stage when you walked in, but once you and your friend had found a nice little corner, vacant of bodies, and conveniently found a third mutual friend to stand by, the room seemed a little less stuffy.

You absentmindedly scanned the crowd, people hoarding in front of the stage, waiting to be the first to break open the mosh pit, presumably, people in the back drinking idly and chatting, almost like they don't even know a show is happening this night. You found yourself looking for Leon. He was in the building somewhere. You wished you could have told him you were there, but what good would that have done? He wouldn’t have come out to say hello, there were preparations to be had back there.

God, shut up already, you willed at yourself, annoyed at the mere fact that you couldn’t stop thinking of Leon.

Admittedly, you thought of that first scene more often than not recently. The muscle shirt, ribcage exposed, thick arms, sweet smile and bouncy cheeks with a strong jawline, the vision came to you during the day, at breakfast, while you were scrolling your phone, late at night, when the moon was your only company. 

You wondered what he would look like tonight. You were so anxious for him to step out on stage. Would he see you?

Your friend stumbled sideways into you, knocking you out of your monetary stupor. People were now starting to crowd in, hence the bump, and you were assuming the start of the set was about to happen.

On cue, the lights went darker, the roar of the crowd exploded, and people rushed on stage and took their places. Your eyes were instantly drawn to Leon, who, from what you could only see from the backlight so far, had on another muscle shirt. It made your legs feel like jelly.

The lights went on, and after a brief introduction from the front man who was holding a guitar, they started. Leon was right, they were pretty good when they weren’t rehearsing new material. You knew this wasn’t the type of music your best friend was into, but to your surprise, she was bopping away with your other mutual friend, both of them holding drinks. That’s probably why.

Turning back, you could see Leon clearly under the lights now, which were strobing in and out, flashing different colors and patterns. His hair was pushed back this time, exposing his forehead, and looking brand new. You liked the way it looked on him, it made him almost look older. Everytime a strong beam of light would shine down on him, you could see the glistening sweat on his skin, his face. He was so focused on hitting the beats, and succeeded everytime, and you were so enticed by it.

This was a side of Leon you never thought you would see. It was so clear, standing in the crowd watching, how much he belonged up there. He looked so confident, every move was made with ease, no hesitation, and you could feel yourself melting.

It was like a headrush, you didn’t think you would enjoy it this much, but clearly, every moment took your breath away. Yes, you were looking at Leon the whole time, but who could really tell?

Soon enough, the show ended, and the crowd was applauding for what felt like ten minutes as the individual members left the stage, thanked everyone, hopped down to talk to others. You were interrupted with your people-watching when your friend grabbed you by the elbow to let you know she was headed back to the bar for more drinks, and you absentmindedly nodded while you turned back.

You caught the back of Leon, dipping behind the stage into the back of the bar. The tips of your fingers tingled with… something, some emotion you couldn’t read… and you let your body take over as you weaved through the crowd, headed to the back.

People bumped you and yelled in your ears as you squeezed in between them, paying them no mind, on a mission of your own.

After a few seconds, you reached a hallway, a few people lingering by the bathrooms, and you spotted someone, you recognized him as the frontman, dipping behind another doorway, chattering loudly to people behind the wall. Times like this, you wished you had decided to down some liquid courage.

You stalked slowly over to the doorway, seeing flashes of shadow as people walked by, unsure if you should hang out or go in. Most likely, you weren’t welcome, it was probably for performers only, but you couldn’t help it, you continued inching closer, drawn in by an unseen force.

As you took another step inward, a figure rushed out and crashed right into you. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, bathrooms are that way if you’re looking for them, this is restricted access.” You looked up at the man you walked into, you didn’t know who it was. 

“Oh, um…” You backed up a step, and though he was making moves to walk around you, he was waiting for a response. “I was actually waiting for Leon… the drummer.” You added in the title, just in case this was a man who worked at the bar with no affiliation to the band. But, to your relief, he nodded.

“I’ll get him, just chill over there, ‘kay?”

You dumbly nodded and backed up again. The hallway was lit with fluorescents, the bright white kind, but it was still dark, with the walls and floors looking slick with condensation. You opted not to lean up against them.

“Hey, you’re still here?” A voice snapped your head back over to your left, and you saw Leon walking towards you. “You didn’t leave with the rest of them?” He must have seen your other friend there as well.

You shook your head. “They’re still here, I think. Just getting drinks.” He nodded. “I told you I would come.” You held your arms out in a here I am gesture. He laughed.

“I’m so glad. I didn’t see you while I was up there, but… I do tend to just tune everything else out when I play.”

“You did great. You were really good.” You spoke, almost breathless for no apparent reason. 

He smiled softly, his eyes holding contact with yours. “Thank you.” His hair was now starting to fall back into place on his forehead, his face was still red with exerted energy. Your eyes wandered, without your permission, his arms were shining under the hallway lights, still sweaty. You looked away, but he saw. “You look great tonight.” His voice was low, and a twist went straight down your abdomen.

You smiled back. You briefly looked down at your outfit, simply a short skirt and loose band tee. “Thank you. It’s nothing.” 

“I like it.” He looked back into your eyes, and you found yourself lost for words. He broke eye contact for a second, turned around and looked into the back room where, presumably, the rest of his bandmates were. He turned back to you. “You know,” He looked down, and took a step forward towards you, slowly, as if to test the waters. You stayed put. “It’s been so long since I saw you last. I almost didn’t recognize you the first night you were at the house.” You grinned at the memory. You were also equally stunned to not know Leon had changed so much. “Not that you weren’t before but… You’re beautiful, now.” 

Your stomach sank at his words, and with his new proximity to you, it caused you to have to look up at him. You felt a strong shiver course up your body.

“I really… I didn’t recognize you. You look so different, too.” You whispered, knowing he was close enough to hear you. “I didn’t even think it was you at first.”

He simply stared at you for a few more moments, taking in your words, and the way you looked in front of him right now. You were suddenly self conscious, but his gaze seemed to tell you that he liked whatever he saw.

“I… don’t want to back you into any corners here…” He looked down, still not meeting your eyes. “But you’re giving me a… vibe. And I’d rather fuck around and find out than never know if I don’t try.”

You stood up straighter, coming closer to meet his face, his eyes finally touching back onto yours. “What kind of vibe?” You had to say something, anything, because you could barely comprehend this situation right now. Leon was catching a vibe from you? Could he tell that you were looking at his body? Could he tell that you thought he became very sexy?

He tilted his head a little further, and his brow bone cast a shadow over his eyes, darkening them. Another shiver down your body. He shrugged. “I think I just… think you are incredibly attractive, now.” His eyes darted down your body for a quick second before resuming their previous place. “And I want to know if you want to just try it out. Just once.”

You took a quick, silent breath in. He must have been picking up your messages, even though you said nothing and only spoke to him once. Was that one conversation that powerful? Was it the hint you dropped about not being with that guy anymore? Was this something he just knew he was going to attempt as soon as he saw you? You didn’t know, and you really didn’t have the time to think it over.

You reached up and placed a hand on his chest, slowly taking the shirt on his body in your hands, pulling him closer, but with no force. His eyes darted up behind you, and he turned his head quickly one more time. He saved you the trouble, and dipped his head down and kissed you hard.

You sighed instantly, fully gripping his shirt and dragging him in closer to you, pushing your body against his as you could feel him move towards you at the same time. You were exploding, you didn’t know what to do with the rest of your body, and could only bring your other hand up to his bicep, where he then palmed your waist. He pulled back after a few seconds.

“Follow me,” His face was flushed, and when he turned around, you were very quick to follow. He maneuvered the two of you through the back room, where people still were congregating, but none of them paid much attention to the two of you. You passed by his other bandmates, and when he turned the corner, he pushed open a door, and ushered you inside. It was a bathroom. “This is the best I can do right now.”

Instead of replying, you simply grabbed his face in both hands and pulled him in. The room was dark, you could tell from under your eyelids as you felt the heat of his face on yours again, and you were at least happy for that, you weren’t too sure you wanted to see the state of the bar’s bathroom at this moment.

His hands found solace again on your waist, thumbs rubbing circles, and fingers teasing along the waistband of your skirt. Leon pressed himself further into you, sandwiching you in between him and the wall, and the stark difference in temperature between the two caused another series of shivers to run up your body.

Leon’s mouth left your lips, now wet and slick with his saliva and yours, and traced them down the length of your jaw, along your neck, nipping at the tender skin, making you sigh and arch your back, increasing the contact of your bodies. Your hands dragged along his sturdy shoulders, reaching around and locking your arms behind his neck, holding him in as he worked your neck, and as his hands started to move. You kept breathily gasping as he bit underneath your jawline, fingertips caressing your jutting hip bone, dipping lower, causing ripples to erupt in your core.

He had positioned his hands now to take purchase on the hem of your skirt, full intentions of pulling it up, when he released his lips from your neck and his face was back in front of yours. 

“Sorry that this is all we have.” His voice was low, and you almost didn't hear it over the static of the bar music softly coming in through the speakers. “We can wait if you want.”

His hand was still positioned on your clothing, and you didn’t let go of him even a little bit. You could only look up, your head already touching the wall behind you. “Where’s the thrill in that?”

Under his shadow, you saw his lips quirk up slightly, he breathed a laugh, and dove back in to kiss you. You threaded your fingers through his hair, slightly tugging, hearing him groan at the sensation. The hand that was ready to hike your skirt up did just that, and his other was gripping your thigh, lifting it higher so he could slide himself right in between. 

He made himself comfortable pressed against you, and you could feel his erection growing through his jeans, giving himself some sort of friction, and you pushed back, earning another groan through your still connected lips. You dropped one of your hands from his hair and traced down his bicep, and into the large hole of his shirt, relishing in every ridge that his ribcage and abdomen had to offer. His skin was so smooth, you knew you would never be able to get enough.

He backed away from the kiss briefly for another moment. “If I never saw you that day you came inside, half naked… in my house looking like that…” He continued to grind himself into you as he spoke, earning noises from the both of you. “Who knows how long I would have to wait?” The hand on your thigh crept upward, leaving a wake of shivers in its path. His palm was flush to your bare skin, reaching the joint of your thigh and hip, and he squeezed the flesh of your hip, digging his thumb into the sweet spot, making you squirm. You clawed at his back, you didn’t even care if it hurt him. You were sure it didn’t.

Leon hovered his mouth over yours, not connecting, but enticing you, and you could only look up at him through a foggy gaze. His hair had now fallen back over his forehead, streaked with sweat, but you hardly minded the way it was touching yours, you wanted him closer. It was impossible how, through the shadow he cast from the light behind him, you could see his blue eyes so clearly, pupils blown, the way he was looking at you made you want to drop dead.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you didn’t even have words to say back to him, you just needed to show him what you thought, how you felt, you just needed him. Your hands came around the front of his body again, not losing contact the entire way, and grasped desperately at his belt, needing to pull out his girth, needing to have his cock in your hands, mouth, in you.

You gasped, trying to form words, but his presence was so dominating, you almost couldn’t. “Leon…” You breathed, and your fingers couldn’t work the clasp fast enough. “Let me…” Finally, it slid open, you pulled the two ends of the belt apart, and made quick work to free his dick from its constraints. Your knees buckled, and you started sliding down the wall.

As you were about to hit the ground, his hands hoisted you back up from under your arms, and you could have whined, the frustration growing, the time only growing in between you getting to have him in your mouth.

“No, I’m sorry,” He grunted as he pulled you up. He put both hands under your thighs, and you gasped as he suddenly picked you up, you wrapped your arms around his neck for balance. “You’re not getting on this floor for me, we’ll save that for another time.”

Another time. Fuck, just those words alone had you melting in his grasp, his strong hands and arms holding you up, walking you around the corner of the bathroom and shutting the two of you in a stall.

“But, you already started this for me, so,” He had you pressed in between himself and the wall once again, one of his arms was still holding you up in the air, legs wrapped around his torso. He tried to separate himself as much as he could to pull his cock out, you reached down in between the two of you to help him, pulling the waistband forward so he could pull them down.

Your breath caught as he pulled it out, a solid, thick length, rock hard, and you were suddenly so mad he wouldn’t let you suck it, because, fuck you would have sucked the life out of him at just the sight of his dick. 

Once he was free, he stroked himself a couple of times, causing himself to moan, and shit, you almost did, too, and he went back to the hem of your skirt, pushing it up over your hips, exposing your small underwear. He eyed them for a moment, humming in acceptance, before sliding them sideways and exposing your aching pussy to the cool air. You, in contrast, were overheating in this bathroom, but now that you were free, it felt so nice, and it felt even better when he ran his fingers along the length, in between your folds, pressing into your clit to watch you squirm again under him.

You sighed loudly, moans slipping out with your breathing as his contact with your heat felt like heaven, your head leaned back and hit the wall, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t feel it, you felt nothing but Leon’s fingers right now.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” He was breathing heavily, and you choked out a whimper when he slid one of his fingers in, and it wasn’t stopped with any friction. You also couldn’t believe how wet you were, but then again, you would jump hurdles to be able to suck his dick right here and now, so it must have gotten you worked up. “You feel so good around me.” He mumbled, practically groaned out, sliding in a second finger with ease, the slick sounds becoming louder as he worked you open, and while it felt so good, you just needed him to fuck you already.

“Leon…” You kept whining, unable to say anything else, mind fading, only wrapped around the feeling of him pleasuring you, fingering you, loosening you up for him. “Please, Leon…” You moved your hips, trying to signal to him to pull his fingers out, but he resisted, his hand following the movements of your hips, only going deeper, causing you to squeal when he went as far in as he could.

“Stay still, take it…” Now he pushed himself back against you, finding your lips again and kissing passionately, trapping his fingers inside you, and when you felt them move inside of you, you couldn’t help but squirm against him. His tongue caressed your lips, the inside of your mouth, and your tongue as he was so entwined in kissing you and in fingering you to the edge, his other hand gripping relentlessly at your ass.

After what felt like forever, he backed away, strings of saliva connecting your mouths, his eyes darker than ever, and you, breathing heavily, working to regain composure. He slid his fingers out, a small hiss escaping your lips with the emptiness.

“Fuck,” He sighed, and he looked back down in between you two. He adjusted his grip on your thigh and ass as he used his now free hand to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance, you felt a throb hit the core of your pussy at the mere sight, and you instinctively tightened when he teasingly dragged the tip along your lips, not giving you what he knew you wanted.

You sighed frustratingly, and couldn’t help it but to reach down and wrap your own hand around his dick. The sudden contact made him gasp, but he caught your hand and prevented you from piloting the moment.

“Just relax…” You didn’t need to look up to hear the smile painting his face, and as much as you wanted to protest, you knew he had the upper hand. This time. “You’ll get it, just be patient.” He drew a couple more lines into you, with your hand still trapped under his on his cock, which you could feel it throb every few seconds, and he finally pushed the tip into you.

You whimpered, whole body going slack, and you drew your hand back from his dick to find closure on his shoulder, steadying yourself as he slowly pushed himself all the way in. He had to stop every other second to collect himself as well, jaw tightened, hands gripping bruises into your hips and legs, a long, deep sigh once he was bottomed out.

He brought himself closer to you, relishing in the feeling of you being wrapped around him, unmoving, and he had his face in the crook of your neck, as if to ground himself from the feeling. Your body was shaking slightly, and you could barely breathe with his weight on top of you, but it all felt so good. His skin was slick, sweat coating anywhere that wasn’t exposed to the air, and your hands drawing deep scratches into his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, fuck…” You felt Leon’s lips moving against your throat, and his breath was hot, you could tell he was desperate to move inside of you, but he was still. “You’re so tight, god…” His lips moved up to place gentle kisses along your jawline, and your head rolled to the side to give him more access. He stayed there for a second, teeth grazing your skin, and after a while you were ready for him to start moving.

You picked your head up and turned sideways, forcing him to look directly at you, wasting no time in reconnecting your lips, and, while continuing to kiss you, he slowly slid out, and pushed himself back in.

The both of you were glued to each other as he continued to thrust in and out, your hands gripping impossibly hard on his shoulders, thighs shaking, breaths choppy. His eyes never left your face, he was watching your expressions so closely, you had no control over whatever was happening to you, you could barely breathe, you were so focused on the feeling that Leon was delivering, you simply ceased to acknowledge the setting you both were in.

“God, Leon…” You choked out in between gasps, head hitting the wall over and over, trying to helplessly grind your hips into his when he thrust up, but you had no energy to move against him. He took the initiative, and every time he would plunge into you, he would stay there for a beat longer, and make sure your previously ignored clit was getting the friction it needed, which made you whine even louder.

His breaths were so heavy, spitting out ‘Fuck’, and ‘Oh, shit’, and ‘So good’ every few seconds, letting his train of thought loose as he let himself go, and lost control of the pace.

One of his hands let go of your thigh, and it landed along your chin, forcing your head down to look into his eyes. “How does that feel, hm? So hard to move in you, so tight.” His voice was a broken mess, just breaths, essentially, but it was all you needed to spur you on. 

You simply nodded, knowing the words were nowhere close to coming out right now. Even if you tried, it would be a mess of moans and gasps. You could feel him so deep inside of you, hitting that point to split you open, your pussy was endlessly wet, enough to fuel a whole round or two, and he let you know.

On another thrust, he pushed himself in and sat there for a moment, your moans spilling out without reserve, you both tensed as the unmistakable sound of the creaking door was heard.

Leon took his right hand, free from holding you up, and laced it over your mouth, silencing any sounds of pleasure that you had left in you. 

You were both stiff, eyes wide, and he had his head swung in the direction of the noise. The footsteps approached the counter and turned the sink on. If they were to walk around the corner, they would see Leon’s legs under the door, and could have easily walked in, considering he didn’t shut it all the way, it was just stopped by his body behind it.

He slowly turned his head back to face you, you couldn’t move due to the weight of his hand, and you wanted to writhe under him so bad, feeling his cock throb still deep inside of you while you both were still. Tears were practically forming in your eyes.

He locked eyes with you, and without a sound, mouthed the words Be quiet.

He kept his hand clamped over your mouth, but he slowly adjusted your position so he could slide out of you at a snail’s pace. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting him to move, and you used all of your remaining energy to hold yourself together, being overcome by the pleasure while also staying conscious of the person who was still at the bathroom sink. You were glad there was still music playing outside in the bar, and the sink was still running, because if it were dead silent, they definitely would have been able to hear the wet sound of Leon pulling out, and fucking back in. 

He held eye contact with you while he continued to do this, holding you so tightly to make sure nothing made any noise,and a devilish grin broke out onto his face. He was enjoying every second of this. 

He was basically getting off on the idea of pushing you to your limit, forcing you to obey what he asked you to, even if it would benefit the both of you rather than just one. If Leon were shameless enough, he could have told them to fuck off, but instead, he held you here, silenced you, yet drove you to the fucking brink just to watch you fall apart. It made you want to cum right then and there.

After what felt like ten, twenty, thirty minutes (fifteen seconds), the sink shut off, a moment of silence, and the door creaked open again. Leon took his hand off your mouth and you both sighed deeply. While holding you still, Leon leaned back to look through the door to confirm you were alone once again.

“You were barely holding it together, I thought we were going to get caught.” He said on another thrust into you, bringing your faces closer once again. You swallowed hard, instinctively choking back moans now.

“Y-you… you were making it hard…” Gasps, again, as Leon was determined to make everything he asked of you difficult.

He brought himself closer into you, and spoke lowly. “Good,” With swift moves, his free hand was around your throat, holding your head back, and he was relentlessly bouncing you up and down on his cock.

The pressure around your throat and the pressure building in your core at his movements was all overwhelming, your hands were cutting crescents into his bicep from your nails, but he hardly took notice, he was so busy moving the both of you as well as keeping an eye on your face to watch how you were responding to his movements, he was too preoccupied.

The slick sounds coming from your pussy were evidence that the situation was much more of a stimulant than you ever expected, and the sound alone brought you so close to the edge.

“I bet you loved almost getting caught.” He groaned out, his movements stuttering, and you knew he must be close as well. “I bet it was driving you crazy, having to shut up while I gave it to you. You took it so well.” Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head, mouth open, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you were drooling at this point, Leon had all the power now.

“Leon,” You whispered, no energy for your full voice anymore. He understood.

“Take it, baby.” He thrust harder and harder, pressing you flat against the wall, the tip of his cock hitting all the deepest points. “I’m almost there, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, Leon,” If you could grasp any harder against his arms, you just did. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“You got it, come on, cum for me.” He pressed his forehead into yours, grinding into you on the inward thrusts, making you fall apart in his arms. A few more thrusts, grinding a few more times, and a squeeze to your throat had you gasping in a silent scream around him, panting wildly letting your orgasm loose. 

He fucked you all the way through it. “Shit, that felt so good, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” You watched him as he chased his own, sweat beads dripping down his face, his hair coated in it. His hips stuttered one more time, and as he released his seed into you, he buried his face into your neck, whimpering and biting again. 

He pulled out of you, and it wasn’t missed by either of you the way his cum dripped out of you and onto the floor. You cracked a small smile when you heard him breathe a laugh.

“I’m sure that’s not the first time this bathroom has seen that.” He looked back up at you, breathing heavily, arms shaking from holding you up. You tapped his arms, hoping your legs were strong enough to stand on your own. He lowered you slowly, making sure you were stable before letting you go.

“I hope that’s what you wanted. I might have gotten ahead of myself.” He was still standing in front of you, neither of you made moves to leave the stall. You leaned against the wall for support.

“I would have stopped you a long time ago if it wasn’t, Leon.” He smiled down at you, breaths steadying out. He nodded his head.

“Coming to the house any time soon?”

You laughed out loud this time. “I’m sleeping over this weekend.” 

He smiled wider at the sound of your laugh. He leaned in and kissed you again. “Can’t wait.”