#Him and his cool sun top! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eupheme · 2 months ago

Text

— you’ve got me wanting you

[part iii of sugar, sugar] | [part ii] [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 7.4k

tags: jealous/posessive!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, wingman!wade, flirting, feelings, (another short) miscommunication, immature humor, light angst, use of alcohol, threat of violence, use of alcohol and smoking, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, PiV, creampie

As the days pass, you think your time spent with Logan is pretty much perfect. Well... almost.

(Or - a dash of insecurity, some badgood advice from Wade, a near-fight at a bar, and the confession of overdue feelings.)

Those two nights spent with Logan turn into more.

The days are bleeding together, blurring. You fit well with him, you think. Together in Wade's apartment - spanning that space between their chatter and silence. Softening edges, though you think he's softened, too.

A stray cat coming around.

Bristling, with narrowed, untrusting eyes. Slowly learning that he can lean into your touch.

Your days since have been spent humming as you work. It had been an anchor once, this routine of yours. Getting up early used to give you something to get up for. Enjoying the whirlwind of prepping, measuring, making, decorating.

Now - you're grateful for how quickly the day passes because it means you can't overanalyze. Because it means by the time you catch your breath at the end of the day, you're already heading home to him.

Takeout was brought over to their apartment. A crappy movie with a hand curled around you, sending your heartbeat racing. The night ending at yours, hours between dusk and dawn spent learning every inch of each other.

You think it's pretty much perfect.

Well... almost.

“Do you think Logan likes me?”

It slips out of you. Something that’s been worrying at you, a splinter trapped just beneath your skin. You regret asking almost immediately - the sun glinting off the silver needle as you push it through the lycra suit.

“You mean the guy that’s been fucking your brains out for the past couple weeks?”

“Wade.”

“Oh, sorry.” He lines his knife up, poking a hole in the top of his styrofoam container - coaxing the waitress from lunch to give him a ‘take-home-margarita’. A cheerful “baby knife!” as he sheathes it again,” I mean the guy that’s been having totally-chaste-and-appropriate adult sleepovers with you?”

You understand what he’s getting at. Stalling, holding up his suit - another gash sewn shut with black thread, “You sure this is okay?”

“Mhmm,” He hums, “Gives me that bride-of-frankenstein vibe I’ve always wanted. Besides, anything is better than before.”

“You insisted, you helpless little man-baby.” Al adds, from her lounge seat, “Learn to dodge.”

Wade splutters - your lips twitching, as you work.

“See what I live with?” He gripes, “Maybe the two of you outta trade. It’d be cramped, but I bet the three of us could sardine it.”

“You wouldn’t last a week without Althea,” You snort. A beat, before you gather the courage to circle back to the topic at hand, “And besides, that’s just it. I’m not sure he wants to sleep with me."

The summer breeze feels better up here, on the roof. The whip of the wind cooling you, as you work your way across the once-again battered suit - propped up against the brick parapet.

“Okay, time out. Missing link here.” Wade gives you a sideways look, before his head pivots, "You cannot hit me with this fake virginal act when I literally heard you two fuck an hour after you met."

A beat, "And like, pretty much every day since then. I think I even heard a howl last night-"

Your eyes roll, "Wade. He’s not a werewolf, he did not howl-"

"Well, not anymore.” Wade smirks, “And funny that you assume I meant the Moan Wolf, but I could have meant you-"

You groan, head cradled in your hands, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, we'll keep it down. It's just-"

It’s just you’ve been here before - this liminal space between an excellent physical connection, and more. You've done the hookup thing - casual, friends-with-benefits, lonely strangers. Thought you had learned how to keep your emotions in check, especially with those past experiences.

But you’ve never met someone like Logan before.

He makes you feel bare. Soft-hearted and stripped down - wearing your feelings on your sleeve. Opening yourself up - only for your fingers to brush up against a brick wall, in return.

Wade must catch your tone because he sets down the styrofoam container - the pink umbrella tucked against his ear.

"Alright Sugarbuns, tell Papa Bear what's bothering you."

You grimace at the names, another flicker of regret lingering in the corners of your mind. But you find yourself talking. Letting those worries flow from you in a rush.

But Wade would know, wouldn't he? It's his friend, after all.

"He leaves after."

His eyebrows raise, and you continue, "I mean, he'll stay for a bit but he always winds up on the couch by morning. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and he’s out there. I mean, I thought he'd want a bed, after where he's been staying, no offense-"

Thought he’d want to stay with you.

You nudged at it once. Getting nothing more than a grumbled excuse about not sleeping well, something about nightmares. Something you accepted, only to find him tucked in your bed a few days later - curled in your sheets when you had rushed back to the apartment after leaving your phone.

Hadn’t wanted to push, even if it confused you. Wouldn’t he want comfort, after a bad dream? You always did.

"Offense taken, Blind Al and I are excellent bedmates," Wade interrupts, "But please, continue."

His joke eases you a little. Risking a sideways glance, finding him already looking at you.

“I like him, Wade. I just really want this to work out.”

He hums, sympathetically. Knowing all too well the complexities of like and love. How you feel deeper than you’re letting on - he always was perceptive, after all.

A beat, before your head turns.

"Do you think it's me?"

He does laugh then, his shoulder leaning to bump yours, "Sugar, you have a two-hundred-year-old boyfriend who's gone through a massive amount of trauma and has an alcohol problem, and you want to know if it's you?"

"Fuck." The heels of your palms press into your eyes, "Okay, okay-"

"I literally traveled through the void with him, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles-style. The John Candy to my Steve Martin, and even after saving the world he still wanted to kill me."

"Wait," Your head lifts, "Why would you be Steve Martin in that scenario?"

“He’s the main character, as am I.” He barrels past your question, "The point is, if he didn't like you, you'd know. You just need to be-"

"Patient." You finish, "Yeah, I know."

And you do know. Even since that first meeting, you've known that he's been eaten up inside. Cracks of the man beneath leaking through his gruff exterior, as you had sat together on that couch.

But Wade called him your boyfriend, but he's not. Not really - no conversation to indicate that's how he saw himself.

It just left you confused. Vulnerable. Enough that you did dumb shit like this - going to Wade for romantic advice. The man who proposed with a ring pop and thought that a prostate orgasm was a sign of being soulmates.

"Maybe you’re giving him too much. Withhold a little," Al interrupts, making you jump, "That's what landed me my second husband. Begged for it like a dog, and was married the next month. God rest his soul."

Wade mouths an exaggerated “what the FUCK" at you, before shooting a dark look in her direction - only just then seeing her smirk.

"Oh, you’re joking? She came to us for help and you’re joking-” A sniff, as Wade turns back, "So anyways, don’t do that. Do something normal. Like internalize it, until it makes you snap."

His face screws up, as he adds, “Or, maybe try it? That bricked me up a bit-”

"Or,” Al adds, “Maybe you should just talk to him, Sugar."

Althea always knew how to cut to the chase and give the hard advice you needed to hear. You just wish you weren’t afraid of the answer.

‘You’re both right,” Your head dips against Wade's shoulder, “I owe you. Again.”

Silence lingering, though it’s not uncomfortable. Leaving you to think about what he said.

The suit passed over to him, when you tie the final knot, “Done.”

“Thanks,” A beat passes, as he gives you a sideways look, “Any chance you want to cash in on that favor tonight?”

You know better than to agree without more info - an eyebrow raising as you wait.

“Vanessa is coming over tonight.” Wade gives you a meaningful look, “It would be great to have the apartment to ourselves for a bit.”

The serious tone does not last, as he smirks, “I fully intend to break my months of celibacy the second the opportunity arises.”

“Months?” You hadn’t realized it had been that long. Thought he would have moved on, in some ways.

“Years, actually,” He adds, casually, “Turns out my obvious romantic hangups plus this-”

A gesture at his face,” Are a total boner-killer. As well as having an elderly roommate, apparently. Especially one who won’t leave.”

You shoot him a sharp look at the self-deprecation, Al’s voice cutting through.

“I told you, I’m hitting the casino for singles night.”

“Okay. I can drop Al off and pick her up,” Your mind is already racing ahead, “And Logan and I can go out to dinner or something.”

The prospect is exciting. Despite the time spent together, you haven’t really gone on too many dates yet. After your long hours and his rotating work schedule, your meetings have mostly been late-night. Quick meals whipped up in your kitchen. A rotating pile of delivery menus.

“That would be great.” He smiles, “Thanks, Sugar.”

“Of course.” You smile, before adding, “What are you going to make?”

A frown, when he hesitates.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to wing it.”

“I wasn’t winging it,” He protests, “I was going to hit up ol’ reliable.”

“For a second-first date? You can’t do takeout from Buns and Roses.”

A sigh, as you turn to face him, tugging out your phone, “You should make something nice. I have this recipe bookmarked for engagement roast chicken. I’ll help you-”

He tugs your phone out of your hand, scrolling through the eight-paragraph opener before the start of the recipe.

“Make this for her, show her you’re serious-,” You start.

Wade finishes, with a smile.

“-and there’ll be a cock ring on it before midnight.”

You keep catching yourself looking at him.

It’s almost embarrassing how bad you have it. Still not used to seeing Logan like this - away from your small apartment.

Seeing him at work was different - a very cognizant realization that you were on the clock. The counter between you like a barrier, even when you slip a coffee and pastry across it. A lightning-quick kiss pressed into his cheek. The relentless teasing from your coworkers, after.

But here - crammed in a booth, his hand slipping just under the hem of your dress, a palm curved against your thigh - it’s something else, entirely. Even in this dark corner, you have to resist letting your hands wander. Eyes flicking to the deep cut of his button-down flannel - dark hair peeking out from the curve of his white tank. The blue and grey pattern pretty against his skin.

A curl of smoke pours from his lips, a cigar fit between two fingers.

Logan had been curious to find you in the apartment when he got home. The aroma of the roast chicken wafting through the space, as you talked Wade through the last steps. The slow sweep of his eyes over the pretty sundress you wore, tugged from the back of your closet.

It hadn’t taken much convincing, when you asked him to get dinner out with you. Even with Althea in tow, safely dropped off for her night out.

“This is nice.” You smile, and his eyebrow lifts.

A glance around the room.

Dinner spent at a local pizza joint - stories shared, wound between updates about his new job at the local lumber company. About Laura, who you met two weeks ago. So much like Logan that it still catches you off-guard. Shared expressions, shared tempers.

You think that it must have been hard for both of them, this reunion. That comparison between the Logan in this world, those memories that stay with her. She views him the same - even you can see that. He’s told you it came as a shock, but it’s easy to see how he’s warmed, with time. Finding joy, within the shared grief.

The conversations spill over into a bar you know well. Unsure what to do with yourselves with the order of “staying away”, the sun still setting when you had stepped inside.

“Not sure nice is the word I’d use, sweetheart.”

“Anywhere is nice if I’m with you. I am sorry, though. I know it’s not-” Your hand waves, shyness creeping in as you lean into his shoulder, “Wasn’t sure where else to kill some time. Dopinder and Buck run a tight ship, it’s really not so bad.”

“Mm. Guess this is nice, then.” He corrects, a hint of a dimple as he smiles, “But you let me take you somewhere safer next time, yeah?”

“I’m safe with you.”

You miss the way he looks at you, as you take a sip of your drink. The brush of his fingers against your skin. His voice going low, goosebumps rising as he murmurs in your ear.

“How much longer do we have to stay out?”

A question that’s been on your mind as well.

“Well, Al’s thing is over at ten,” Your teeth worry at your lip, “But, I guess we could sneak back early. It’s just, Wade-”

“What about Wade?”

It’s unfair, how he crowds you in the booth. Torso twisting to face you. The warmth of his hand - how you’re aware of each and every movement he makes. It takes you a moment to answer.

“Wade is… Wade,” You manage, “But he doesn’t really ask for much. I owe him, you know?”

“You owe him?” He chuckles, “He’s lucky you stuck around after he tried to give you cocaine-”

“Hey,” You smile, “That was Al.”

That had been your second run-in with your neighbors. Only desperation had sent you over to the apartment, needing a cup of powdered sugar for a personal favor. Under-estimating how much you needed, in your rush to finish some cookies for a friend’s baby shower.

Meeting Al instead. The powdered substance swapped when her roommate had rearranged the apartment as a prank. Only Wade bursting from the bathroom, a towel slung low from his hips, had saved you from disaster. The nickname had formed when you hadn’t written them both off.

“And besides, Wade was the one who introduced me to you.”

Logan’s expression softens, “That is something, isn’t it?”

He holds your gaze for a long moment. Eyes drifting lazily down to your lips, with a low hum, then further. It sends a heat blooming in your cheeks, an unconscious press of your thighs together.

“I’m, um, gonna let Dopinder know we’re heading out.” You breathe, “He’ll worry if we irish goodbye.”

“You sure?” He husks, with another exhale of smoke - and you can feel the heat rising from your cheeks to your ears.

“Yes,” It comes out breathy.

“Um, yeah. You finish that, and I’ll be right back.”

Your elbows pressing into the sticky bartop as you wait - watching Dopinder work his way through pouring pints of beer for a crowd of bikers, all in dark leather.

A glance over your shoulder, finding the booth tucked in the corner. The dark head of hair, the expanse of his shoulders - a thick arm slung across the back - as Logan waits for you.

It makes you smile, and you almost miss the bump of a shoulder against yours.

“Oh!” You squeak, shifting to the side to make room, “I’m so sorry, I-”

The apology dies on your tongue, as you glance up at the man leaning against the wooden post at the end of the bar. Eyes drifting over the black field jacket, up to dark eyes.

“Been a while, darlin’.”

You inhale a breath, in surprise. Close to two years ago, if you remember right. Numerous meetings spread out over months, before he slipped out of your fire escape and into the early morning.

No note, no text. Walking out just as suddenly as he had appeared.

It had never been anything serious - he had made that clear - but you can’t pretend that it hadn’t hurt.

“It has,” You agree, a low twist in your belly, “How have you been? Didn’t think I’d see you outside Hell’s Kitchen.”

Unable to help that flicker of worry, even after everything. It’s always been ingrained in you - thinking of others more than yourself.

“Should ask you the same,” His eyebrow arches, “This isn’t your kind of place. Taking up mercenary work, beautiful?”

“I’m here with someone.” It comes out clipped, a glance over your shoulder - the nerves eased when you spot his form.

“Mountain man?”

A scoff - lip curling over sharp teeth, “Taking you to a place like this… You can do better than that. You can do-”

“You?” It’s your turn for your brow to raise, “We both know how that goes, Frankie. This-”

A pointed finger, gesturing around the room, “Was my idea. Things are different. I’m different.”

There’s the hint of a smirk - dark eyes that drag slowly down. Flicking back up to yours, as his voice pitches low, “I’m sure some things are the same.”

Your head shakes, “Not like that.”

There are lingering shades of purple that fade to yellow across his cheekbone. Never was good with this. All that time spent glancing out your window, waiting for him to show up, battered and bloody like he used to. All he did was keep you out, keep you at arm’s length.

Maybe that’s why you’re afraid of it happening again. A little shake of your head - a reminder that you need to be patient like Wade said. Logan isn’t him.

“I know what I want, and it’s-” The words die, as you look for him, again. Finding only an empty booth - your stomach tying up into knots.

A palm touches at your hip, a chest pressing snugly against your back. Startling you, as you breathe, “Logan.”

“This asshole bothering you, sweetheart?” It’s growled out, Logan’s eyes fixed on the other man.

“Nice guard dog.” There’s an amused appraisal - narrowed eyes, tongue trapped against teeth. “He do tricks as well?

The fingers at your hip curl, the smallest tug backward to bring you closer. The words ground out between bared teeth.

“You watch it.”

Christ. This was bad, you need to find your tongue - and quickly.

You twist, a hand resting on his chest. Only now does Logan’s eyes drop to yours, the tight pull to his features only just ebbing.

“This is Logan,” You smile, your palm pressing over his heart, “He’s, uh, my-”

And for a brief second, your words fail you. The tension is thick enough to cut, acrid in the air. Would labeling this right now send him running?

The man cuts through before you can finish.

“Frank Castle.” His eyes flick back to yours, as he adds, “Sure you can guess how we know each other.”

The muscles beneath your palm twitch. A light pressure against your hip, urging you away from the bar - the words low in your ear, “Alright. Let’s go.”

A nod, and you’re giving Frank a tight smile - letting Logan guide you towards the back. No more than a step taken before his voice cuts through.

“You still got my number?”

You shoot him an exasperated look, “Frank-”

“Gonna be back in town for a while, baby girl.” His arms cross, as he leans, “Call me when things don’t work out.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before a fist closes around the collar of his jacket. Logan stepping into his space, a forearm shoving Frank hard as he pins him against the post.

“I’ve had enough of your bullshit, bub.”

Fights are common in Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children, but you can’t say you’ve ever experienced one. Fear licks inside you, meeting Dopinder’s equally worried gaze as he starts to rush over.

Frank’s smile is dark, “You don’t want to start this.”

It’s met with a growl. Silver points peeking between the dips of Logan’s knuckles, the fabric straining in his tight grip.

“Fucking try me, you piece of shit.”

There’s a metallic click - the press of something cold against Logan’s groin.

“Should shoot your dick off for that.”

“Okay!” You shove between them, then. A hand on Logan’s arm, tugging - the other at his neck, trying to guide him back to you.

“Hey. It’s okay,” It’s softer now, soothing, “Baby, let’s go.”

His hazel eyes are wild when they find yours. Face twisted in a snarl, deepened with the shadows cast in the dim room. Blinking, as he comes back to himself. A dark look as his arm eases - stepping away.

This time, it’s you that leads him towards the back exit. Something gritted out as you leave that you miss, but sends Logan bristling. An apologetic look thrown at Dopinder, before you’re stepping together through the swinging door, into the wood-paneled hallway.

Ducking down one of the hallways, next to matching doors leading to bathrooms, and a storage closet. An exit sign, gleaming red at the end.

The music and voices are muffled. His face silhouetted in the light of a vintage beer sign, his features outlined in gold as his back presses against the wall. A gritted, inhaled breath.

You haven’t seen him like this before. Seen him mad several times. Grouchy and annoyed with Wade. The sharp temper that hid his hurt when he thought you didn’t want him.

None of those moments match him now. You’re not sure what to make of it - the way your skin prickles. Something in your belly flutters, a warmth that drips from behind your ribs, settling low. You never wanted anyone to get hurt. But that look in his eyes, how quick we was to find you - it makes you inhale a breath.

“We-,” You start - your fingers still curled around his bicep, “We should talk about this. You okay, Logan?”

His eyes flick to yours, jaw working. The fury has bled from them, the sharp etches in his face easing, even as his expression stays guarded.

“Yeah. ‘m fine.” Logan rasps, “Didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

A beat, before it slips from him, “Was he one of the ones Wade scared away?”

“What?” It takes you a long moment to remember. Your brow pinching, as you shake your head,” Frank? No. It was-”

The pull of his brow is back, his frown deepening with your explanation.

“It was just casual.” You finish, lamely, “It wasn’t anything. Never was.”

“Didn’t sound that way.” It’s gritted out.

His head turns, eye contact dropping. A hand, raking through his hair - pushing the dark strands back, “Listen. If you want to go with him, it’s fine.”

You’re left stunned for a moment. His jaw working, hands jamming into his pockets. It’s defensive - it’s familiar.

“I don’t want to go with him-” You start, but it only makes him sigh.

“Then what were you gonna say, Sugar?” The look he finally gives you is searching, “I’m your, what-, your neighbor?”

“No!” You cry, “I was going to say you’re my boyfriend, but you’ve never-”

Logan’s pitches low, “I’ve never what?”

Your shoulders droop. Curling around yourself, as you lean into the wall next to him. He leans, matching your height - trying to catch your eyes.

“I don’t know, Logan.” It’s almost too quiet to hear. He might have, if he had been anyone else. “I told you I liked you the day after meeting you. But you…”

A little shake of your head, “You keep everything so close to your chest. You leave in the night. It’s okay, I just… sometimes I don’t know what to think.”

When his arms cross this time, there’s something in his eyes. A dark glimmer, the tug of his lips.

“You think that I don’t like you, sweetheart?”

A tilt of his head, a sharp edge slipping into his tone, “You think I wasn’t ready to tear that asshole limb from limb for talking to my girl that way?”

Something low in your belly twists, desire thrumming in an echo that radiates through you. A sharp inhale of breath at his words.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” You manage, transfixed.

It’s easier, this time, for him to step into you. Hands ghosting along your neck. Tipping your face to his, so you can’t look away. Can’t miss what he tells you.

“If-, if I open up.” It comes out hushed, his words soft and low, “You won’t like what you see, Sugar.”

You reach for him - fingers curling around his wrists, “I like what I see just fine.”

He huffs. The barest hint of a smile, before his expression goes solemn.

“This,” The word is punctuated by the way his thumb sweeps against your cheek, “Never goes well for me. Sleeping on the couch puts me between you and anything coming through that door.”

Your pulse races with the remorse in his words. He’s touched on the barest of details of his past. Those small moments shared in the night you met, riddled confessions in the late nights that have followed.

“And the things I dream about-,” His eyes go hazy - lost in a memory, “They pull me back. I don’t want to hurt you because I can’t tell them from reality.”

The words slip from you automatically, without thought. Guilt floods through you, an ache from wondering - doubting.

“You won’t hurt me.”

“I will.” He breathes, “Sweetheart, I will. It’s not an if, it’s a when.”

Your head shakes - a stubborn set of your jaw, “You won’t. Please don’t shut me out, Logan. Please try…”

He huffs - eyes dropping to your mouth, as he leans. Hands slipping to cup your head, angle you to meet the press of his lips. A soft sigh that you swallow, something tender in the way he draws you to him. A hand curling around your back, splaying between your shoulder blades.

“Give me some time, okay?” Logan murmurs, when the kiss breaks, “Let me draw out the first good thing I’ve had in a long time. Just for a little longer.”

“Don’t have to draw it out.” Your body still curves to his, anchoring yourself to him. A hand touching his jaw so this time, his eyes have to stay on you.

“You deserve good things, Logan.” Your mouth brushes his, “Let me give them to you.”

The sound he makes is almost wounded, as if he wants to protest.

As if he wants to believe you.

Breath ragged, as his hands trace down to grip at your hips. Leaning into you, your touch. What you offer him. A thigh fitting between yours, nudging against your core - and you think surely he must see how your eyes darken.

The rapid flutter of your heart, how it races for him and only him.

“Yeah?” He husks, as if reading your mind, “You ready to get out of here, Sugar?”

“Bathroom.” You breathe.

“Can’t wait that long.”

He’s on you the second the door swings shut. Fingers twisting at the lock, as his head dips - mouth finding yours again.

There’s a desperation to his kiss this time. One that you match with the way your palms trace up his chest. Fingertips at his neck, tugging him to meet you.

A thrill shoots up your spine. You’ve never done anything quite like this before. The space behind your ribs is soft and tender from his confession - already breathless before he deepens the kiss.

Backing you up against the old, chipped vanity that lines the wall. The stalls hanging open - empty as his hands trail down your spine. Fitting beneath the curve of your ass, tugging you up to fit on the counter.

Finding your jaw again - guiding your lips to his, meeting the sweep of your tongue as he fits between your thighs.

“Been wanting to get my hands on you all night.” He breathes, against your lips, “So fucking pretty, you know that?”

It sends a pulse through you, down to where you’re already responding to his touch. Your knees close around his hips, urging him closer.

“Logan, please,” You hum, fingers tugging at his belt buckle. A palm pressing against the front of his jeans, where his cock strains against the denim.

His moan is ragged, bucking into your touch. Fingers tracing up your waist. Letting your tits fill his palm, as you work him free.

“This okay?” Logan rasps, eyes half-lidded, “Pretty fuckin’ filthy, sweetheart.”

It’s hard to hold back a moan of assent, when his lips presses against your neck. Open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, the scrape of teeth pressing into your jugular.

“Good,” He growls against your skin, “Would’ve bent you over that fucking bar if you’d let me.”

It’s possessive. It makes you shiver - a sweep of his tongue, the suck of lips as he marks you. The sharp sting of his bite fading into sweet bliss.

“Need you.” Your fingers wrap around his cock, stroking. The lightest of tugs to bring him closer, your thighs inching further apart.

He groans, “You have me.”

The pretty dress you wear is pushed up to your waist. His palm cupping you, feeling your warmth before he’s tugging the fabric of your panties to the side.

Need rushes through you. A heave of your chest against his as your mouth meets his, greedy. A tilt of your hips, a leg lifting to hitch around his waist. Your hand curling around the edge of the counter, the other guiding the tip of his cock against your slick folds.

“Hold on, honey.” Logan’s fingers slip against your pussy, nudging inside, “Gonna be sore.”

“I can take it,” You insist, pleading, “I can take you, wanna feel it.”

His eyes darken. A little inhale of breath, watching as your lips part as two fingers press deep. Your teeth already sink into your bottom lip, muffling a whine.

Slipping them free, after crooking inside you. Wrapping his hand around his cock, a rough stroke to smear your slick around him. Lining the tip up with your opening, as his hands fit against your waist. His hips pressed snugly against the chipped counter, as he begins to tug you to meet him.

You can feel every inch, as he moves you. He splits you open, your shoulders arching against the dirty mirror as your nails bite into the laminate. A hand pressed against his chest, as you urge him to go slow.

A held breath coming in a rush, as he slips deeper inside you with a grunt. Filling that ache you’ve been carrying - your eyes dropping down to watch the slick shine of his cock. Sinking into you with the slow saw of his hips, a clink of his belt with movement.

“Just for me, yeah?” He rasps, a hand drifting down. Fingers splitting where he fills you, drawing slick tips up to circle your clit.

“Just you.” You nod, breathless. Rocking into his touch, taking more as you adjust to the weight of him inside you.

His teeth flash white, in the dim room.

“That’s my girl.”

The moan you’ve been holding back slips from you, as you clench down hard around him.

He hums, “You like that?”

“Yes.” You whine. Reaching for him, as he tugs you closer. The slow plunge of his hips turning into a shallow grind.

Fingers circling and pressing, in rhythm with the heady drag of his cock against your walls. Your fingers grasping onto his arms, his shoulders - the kiss is messy when he meets the tilt of your head.

Leaning into you as his tongue licks into the cup of your mouth, your tits pressed up against his chest. A broad hand slipping from your waist, curving against the swell of your ass and squeezing.

“That’s it,” He rumbles against your mouth - eyes half-lidded. A groan when you nip his lower lip - grinning at the way you gasp, when his hips surge forward, “Atta girl, taking me so well.”

Each swipe against your clit feels like a countdown - hips angling until he finds that spot inside you that makes your teeth click together. That slickens him up even further, until he’s pounding into your wet, tight heat.

Your fingers pinch down. Breath going short, until you’re panting. Unable to do more than buck into his touch, as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you.

“Couldn’t even wait to get home,” Logan growls, “Needed this cock so badly, didn’t you?”

“Needed you,” You whine, hips rocking to meet his. Eyes fluttering shut, as the winding pressure builds, “Fuck, needed you. Gonna make me-”

The words break on a bitten-back whimper. Your muscles go stiff, bracing yourself in his arms.

“Want you to look at me, sweetheart.” He coos, with that steady roll of his hips. Nudging deep inside you each time, as his fingers circle against your clit, “Eyes on me when you come, alright?”

Your answer is a breathless nod, as you listen.

You don’t think you could look away if you tried. Not with him right in front of you. So close you can see the pull of his brow in concentration, the pretty shade of his eyes.

Fixed on you, as his lips part. The soft pant and grunt as desire throbs in your veins, your fingers curling into a fist in his flannel.

“Come for me, baby.” He urges, “Wanna feel you, let me fucking feel you come.”

It’s there, swirling inside you. Liquid heat between your thighs, yanking you to an invisible edge. Leaving you to dangle, breath held -

“Oh my god, Logan-“

You’re falling - clenching down hard around him. His name is a chanted prayer as he fucks you through it - a ragged, pleased sound rumbling in this throat as you pulse around his cock. The slap of his hips growing louder, more wet as your release coats his cock. His base and balls sticky, when they press flush to your cunt.

“That’s it,” He growls. Fingers leaving your clit, so he can grip your waist. Drive into you harder, chasing his own impending release.

“Come on, that’s my girl.”

It’s pulled from you, sweet and smooth.

“Yours.”

Logan’s moan is ragged, coming from low in his chest. His pace stutters - the steady thrust turning sloppy. A messy rut of his hips, grinding himself as deep as he can before he finds himself again.

You forget the dingy bar. The flickering overhead lights. Filth and phone numbers scrawled on the walls. Everything narrows down to him.

How he holds you. Looks at you - so much said in the way they soften. You don’t know how you ever could have doubted.

Blinded with uncertainty. Fears from before, that will no longer have a hold on you.

“Logan,” You sigh, your heel digging into the curve of his ass. Eyes still on his, as your plea slips from you, “Fuck. Don’t pull out.”

You want to feel him. The throb of his cock when he comes deep inside you. How he lingers, slick and dripping from you - now, and later, and tomorrow.

A gritted-out groan, as the sharp tempo increases. Fingers pinching hard enough to bruise, and you’ll wear him there, too - fading marks against your hips.

“Yeah?” Logan husks - that look back in his eyes. Pupils blown wide, as his lips part with a groan, “Gonna be my good girl, gonna fucking take it?”

“Mhm,” It pitches high, as you nod.

“Fuck.”

It comes out choked, as he loses himself in you. One, two, three thrusts, and Logan is growling - hands slipping down to tug you flush against him, as he spills inside you with a muffled shout.

Hips grinding himself deep into you, his words a rough rasp in your ear, “Take it. Just like that.”

He pulses inside you, filling you with each twitch of his cock. Marking you fully, as he tests his teeth against your shoulder. A moan, as your thighs hitch around his hips - nudging him deep, where you’re wet and warm and wrapped around him.

Leaving him to grind every last drop into you, slumping back when his grip finally loosens. Your limbs feel like liquid lead, head tipped back against the glass. A groan muffled against your neck, as your fingers slip beneath the tugged-open flannel.

Nails scratching along his back, the tight muscles beneath easing.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Logan hums when he finally leans back - and you already miss his hands on you, as they shift to brace against the counter.

It feels cruel that he teases you like this. When you swear you can still feel the throb of his cock inside you. When he’s still sheathed to the hilt.

You groan, “Don’t make fun of me, Logan.”

“‘m not sweetheart,” He huffs, eyes going soft.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

There’s something off about your apartment - he can sense it the moment they make it to the landing.

This is exactly what he had been trying to tell you. The when, not if, something will go wrong. His senses flickering into overdrive, nostrils flaring.

Catching the light that creeps from under the door, when he knows you clicked it off. His hand automatically leaves yours, reaching out to tuck you safely behind him.

“Logan?” There’s confusion in your voice, a hand at his shoulder.

He shushes you, his words a low growl.

“Someone’s in your apartment. Stay here, sweetheart.”

There’s the soft snick of his claws, your fingers untwisting from his shirt. A breath, and then his hand is closing around the knob - a sharp jerk of his fist as his shoulder slams into the wood.

Teeth bared, as he bursts into your apartment with a snarl.

All that fury bleeds to relief, and then disappointment.

“How’d you get in here?” Logan grits, his claws sheathing.

Your voice joins his, from where you had peeked around the doorframe, “You okay, Wade?”

Hazy, morose eyes peer back at him - a hand lifting to wiggle “baby knife” at him. A newly-opened bottle of your cooking sherry in the other - a plate balanced on his chest, filled with a half-eaten chicken breast and vegetables. Legs stretched out on your sofa, Dogpool curled between his ankles.

“She didn’t show,” Wade mutters, with a miserable smile, “Didn’t want to be alone.”

Logan can’t help the soft flicker in his chest when you go to him. Sinking to your knees by the couch - moving the plate to the coffee table, lifting Dogpool into your arms. She licks your chin as Wade lets loose a long, drawn-out sigh - flipping to face the back of the couch.

"What was the point of the first two movies?" The words are muffled into the fabric, "Why would Disney do something like this? We were picking out baby names for fuck’s sake-"

“I’m so sorry,” You soothe - a hand on his back, “What can I do to help? Can I get you anything?”

Wade’s head turns to the side, with a long sigh.

“Thor’s phone number.”

“How about I take this,” You tug at the bottle, until it loosens, “And I text Peter? We can have a movie night, okay?”

He turns further, until he’s facing you again, “Even that one you hate?”

"Don’t hate it." You sigh, “It’s just so sad. I don’t know why it’s your favorite.”

“It’s not my fault they made that tree star look so goddamn delicious.”

You’re beckoning Logan over, a gesture to take his place. You hand on his arm, beseeching - but you don’t have to beg this time. The snarling dog inside him calmed - the fury from the bar and from the hallway ebbing at your touch. He can still feel your lips against his, when his eyes close.

The uncomfortable itch of opening up oneself still lingers, but it’s soothed by the way you smile at him in thanks. By the words that he still clings to.

Logan has to fold himself into the space, knees folding. Mary Puppins tucked in the crook of his elbow - his other hand patting against a curved-in shoulder.

Sincerity, as he offers, "Tough luck, bub.”

“It’s her loss.” You call, thumbs tapping away a message.

“Her loss.” Logan echos, “You’re… you’re a good man, Wade. It’ll work out.”

It comes out clumsy. It always does - he never had a silver tongue like the Professor did. His edges as sharp as his claws, never one to waste words if his fist could do the job.

Wade flips back over. The hint of a smile, “That’s the second nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Before his eyes are flicking over to where you pace, voice lowering.

“And I gotta ask, did you maul Sugar? What is with that mark on her neck?”

Logan huffs, lips twitching.

“We’re all set,” You smile, “Your Emotional Support Peter is on his way. He’s bringing Al and some ice cream.”

A glance his way, the question written so plainly in your eyes - the lift of your brow. “That okay?”

It’s not the way he imagined this night going.

Had thought he’d take you to bed when he got back. Take things slower, this time.

Using his touch and the greedy press of his mouth to make sure you understand that he heard every word you told him. That he meant each one he said back - make sure you never made the mistake of thinking he didn’t care for you again.

But when he looks at you - how you’re ready to sweep into the kitchen to make some popcorn, he thinks-

That he might just prefer this. Even as messy as it is.

He smiles back.

The couch is crammed with far too many people. Five squeezing into a space meant for three at best. You’ve been half perched on his lap all night, his arm slung over your shoulder - tempted to pull you the rest of the way.

A couple months ago, his skin would have crawled to be this close to others. Would have peeled himself away with a scathing word and a sharper bite.

But something softened him, during his time in this world. Days, to weeks, to months.

Couldn’t go back, he knows that now. All the wishing and TVA TemPads couldn’t undo what was done - he’s known that for a while. It would take a long time, but he could try to come to terms with what happened. Try to do better, moving forward.

Starting with himself. A scrap of paper - snatched from a bottom of a flier with a brightly-printed 12-step program, shoved deep into his leather jacket pocket. Relearning how to be patient with others, and even more so with himself. Trying to listen what you and Wade told him.

He’s done walking away from things. You make him believe that whenever, if ever, he manages to open that tightly-sealed lid… you’ll stay.

The thought is one that he'll cling to.

“Alright. Enough bullshit.”

It’s announced, as the credits roll - breaking him out of his thoughts. A creak of the couch as Wade shifts - crammed between you and Al, his head twisting on her shoulder to peer over his way.

“‘m being serious now.” He insists, though the words slur together - the bottle stolen back during the movie and drained, “I’m so happy my two besties are falling in love, even if I am a jealous little bitch.”

A gasp, as he remembers - a reaching over to pat Peter’s shoulder, “Not that I’m forgetting about you, sugar bear. You too, Blind Al. I’d be just as happy if you two were dating. It'd be like a less fucked-up Harold and Maude."

A derisive snort from Al.

Peter smiles, “Just happy to be here, pal.”

“Anyways, life sucks balls. Big, fat, sloppy, wet, balls, but goddamn if seeing you two happy doesn’t fill me with hope.”

Logan can hear the hitch in your breath. The pressure of your fingers, entwined with his. Embarrassment flickering across your face, when you are unable to help glancing his way.

Exasperation and something else mixing in when you meet his gaze. Something soft and tender and directed so solely at him, that for a moment - he forgets to breathe.

Falling in love, huh?

Yeah. He might just be.

a/n: i adore frank castle, haha. i thought he would be a fun person to pull in for a jealous!logan scenario - and thank so from the bottom of my heart for all the love on sugar, sugar - I honestly had no idea so many of you would like it, and I can’t tell you how much it means to read your sweet asks and comments 💖 this is all I have planned for them right now, thank you for letting me share this series with you!!! (though I am definitely not done writing for logan!)

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #deadpool & wolverine #wolverine imagine

6K notes · View notes

mrshigurumasshop · 3 months ago

Text

Summer Mornings | Fushiguro T. ~ the one where toji wakes up to a pretty view in the mornings

─➭ pairing: husband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

─➭ mentions of: little bit of nsfw (boob sucking/somno), fluff

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

One thing that Toji is most thankful of are the mornings on the days he has off from work. He would still wake up before you even though he slept in and during that time before you wake up, he just admires you. His wife.

Especially on summer days.

Gods, you were a sight for sore eyes. He’s happily admitted to you that this part of you in the morning is the best. It’s your bare and most vulnerable self that no one will ever have the chance to see.

These mornings is when he’d roll over to face your sleeping form and find how your body is comfortably splayed out on your side of the bed. Your hair is in some form of disarray, one arm over your head while the other is thrown over your torso, and your mouth is open enough to let out your soft snores. He studies your face, letting his eyes graze over the blemishes and moles you have here and there. Then depending on the day he’d be able to count how many pimple patches you have decorating your cute face. Sometimes he’d count one or two star patches on your forehead or chin.

Your soft lips have a faint rose color from the lip balm you put on before you to bed every night. He swears he could die happily feeling your lips against his.

His eyes then rake down your face to your neck and chest to see how the sun hits your body just right to make you glow so naturally. If it’s really hot by the time he wakes up he’d see a very light layer of sweat on your neck and chest. The ends of your hair in the background are being lightly blown away from the fan that was placed facing the bed for more cool air. He can see that your cropped tank top and panties are doing to no little by making you cooler as you’d move every so often in discomfort.

The light layer of sweat can also be seen back on your glowing face. Your hairline has a slight glisten to it and your cheeks feel warm to the touch as he lightly caresses the back of his hand against them. The said hand would gently move down towards your chest where one of your tits had been peeking out from your top.

Fuck, your tits… is a blessing from whoever it is from above.

Toji lets out a strained groan as his fingers would graze over your perked nipple. He’d shift his body closer to yours; near laying his head on top of your chest he has to stop himself from indulging too fast but, fuck it, who cares?

Toji whimpers the second he starts sucking on your pretty tits. He can never get enough of them by having them first thing in the morning. But sucking them like his life depended on it just wasn’t enough. He’d start giving you love bites on and around your nipple as his moans. His arms are completely wrapped around your waist as he tangles his legs with yours and that’s when he hears those oh so beautiful gasps.

“Toji…,” you softly whine. Your husband moans in response as he suck a little harder while he feels your nails run through his dark hair. “Toji, it’s hott,” you whine with a laugh.

You softly tug on his hair to pull him away and he smiles up at you as he trails kisses around your nipple. “Just lay back and enjoy, pretty girl,” he then sloppily kisses your nipple not once but twice before saying, “Mmm, and good morning.”

You softly laugh out a sweet “good morning, honey,” as you let him go back into his blissful state.

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

#toji x reader #toji smut #jjk toji #toji x y/n #toji drabbles #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen au #this is what i am craving

3K notes · View notes

redcherrykook · 2 months ago

Text

──𐙚 (tent)ative enemies - e2l, camping request

────୨ৎ────

content: friendgroup camping trip, e2l vibes, banter, tension, penetrative sex (unprotected), make out, tent sex oop, backshots, hair pulling, one slap to the ass, big dick jk, creampie, fluff lowkey, argument / angry confession (very cheesy)

note from cherry: omg i love this sm (this is a cloud anonie request so everyone mentally say thank yewww to our baby)

────୨ৎ────

"Who's idiotic idea was this again?" Miso asks, the thumping of her boots heavy on the soil,

"Jungkook's who else" you reply, rustling through leaves and branches, the striking heat burning the top of your head

He gruffs, pushing you slightly with his arm

"Might wannna hit the gym more, i'm chilling" very evidently, Jungkook is lying. The sweat trickling of the side of his face, the stains on his grey tank top and the pink hue on his honey toned skin are obvious indicators that the stupid, exhausting hiking- camping trip is getting to him.

Just like it has been getting to you and the three remaining people

Miso, someone who barely gets out of the house, has it the worst.

She's been complaining about it ever since the first hour of the trip

Brilliant idea.

Jimin and Taehyung are dealing with it as dramatically as expected

"Oh my god we need to take a break" jimin huffs, his hands pushing on his thighs with every step forward,

"I know right. Kook how much is left?" Tae agrees, moving his head torwards the younger male

"An hour. How many times have i told you it's a three hour trip" his reply makes your blood boil,

This all-knowing, cocky, ego attitude of Jungkook is unbareable

And you'd have to endure it for a total of two and a half days

You have been enduring it for two hours straight and it's to the point where one more stupid comment will make you burst

Worse than the sun burning your head, worse than the sweat ruining your freshly washed hair

"We're not taking another fucking break tae just push through"

Miso rolls her eyes too, shooting you a look to which you only manage to shrug,

"I told you" resting at the tip of your tongue, it wasn't your idea after all, it was Jungkook's and you had warned the group about this exact scenario

Being no stranger to his stupid endeavors, you might be the most familiar with his personality, having known the campus jock and heartthob since his middle school days

Is he your best friend technically?

One might call him that,

Is he also incredibly annoying and you can't stand being alone with him for 20 minutes?

Yes. Yes he is.

The hour passes and it feels more like three with each step,

Each lyric blasted into the forest by the group, shouted out to drown the heat out

"This is the campsite?" Miso says, out of breath and water, just like everyone else

"Yeah" you breath out, looking over the scenery

"Dude this is crazy!" Tae shouts, excitedly wrapping his arm around jimin and ruffling his hair

"Ouch- yes, yeah so cool" he agrees, stepping closer while trying to pry off his best friend

Maybe three hours through what felt like the Amazonas and five stages of grief were worth it after all

The glistening lake in the very back, the shade between pretty flowers and trees, the solitude and animal chirping?

It's beautiful, mesmerizing and screams relaxation,

Who are you kidding. Nothing could repair three hours of enduring jeon jungkook

"Alright, lets set the tents up" you sigh, taking big steps torward the grassy patch under a shady tree,

"I want that spot" Jungkook says, standing right in front of you

"Too bad. Take that one" you say, pointing to the tree next to yours with an overexaggerated smile,

He scoffs, messing your hair up while walking past to the tree you pointed at,

You angryly readjust your hair, watching jimin and tae goof around, almost pushing one another into the lake

"I wish i was this careless" miso says, shaking her head while also watching them

"Me too" you sigh back, fumbling with one of the tents bars,

Everything had gone fine this far but this one bar simply won't stay where it needs to

Frustrated, you slam the bar down in the grass, watching the half set up tent fall into itself

A chuckle can be heard from next to you, approaching steps accomodating it

"Need help with that?" Jungkook asks, his knees coming down next to you, eyes scanning over the mess of pieces

"Obviously"

Jungkook tsks, hands working fast to reassemble the bars and fabric,

He is making am effort to stay focused, bottom lip tucked between his teeth somtimes, his tongue grazing over the lip ring carefully

Your eyes move down to his hands, gently working on building you a place to sleep in

"You done?" He says, waving his tatted hand in front of your face,

"Huh?"

He clicks his tongue, a amused smirk slowly spreading on his face when he moves it closer

"I said, are you done" repeating himself, you just now notice that he is the one that is done, having finished assembling the small, cozy tent

"With what?" You ask, already annoyed with this attitude he carries

"Staring. If you want me, just tell me. Open that loud mouth, won't you?"

"Ew you're gross. Thanks for the tent but i won't suck your dick for it"

His smile is insufferable, that cocky, low tone and the way he leans into your face only adding to the irritaing charm he possess

"How cute. I didn't even mention that, but look who's imagining things" he hums , his thumb tracing over your cheek before standing up, leaving you to yourself on the floor

"Oh god shut up" you tell him, kicking into his leg from below,

He laughs it off, jogging towards the rest of the group

"So what you're saying is, you need to go to the supermarket?" Jungkook groans, sitting down on a folding chair,

Miso nods, "dude we totally thought at least one of us had a car with stuff"

Jimin agrees, "but turns out you were serious about the three hours"

"And you notice that now?" You reply, eyes practically rolling back into your skull

Three idiots that share half a braincell.

"Well no- but- i mean, it was too late anyways" Tae mumbles, rubbing his nape

Three idiots who were responsible of bringing food for the night,

None of which managed to bring anything but crisps who are, to no surpirse, already eaten up.

Jungkook pinches his nose bridge, sighing with evident frustration

"Now what?"

Crickets.

"Guys come on" you chime in,

Miso looks at her phone, "i could call a cab to the main street? It's a 25 minute walk to there"

Jimin and tae hum,

"Okay. It's the best option" you sigh, combing through your hair

Jungkook looks up at you from his seat

"Yeah. We'll set up the fire and you guys go to the-"

"No way", you scoff, looking at him with wide eyes,

He responds with an annoyed laugh, running his hands over the visible muscles on his thighs

"Seriously?"

You nod, "dead serious"

Silence, once again.

Jungkook takes off, practically shooting up from his chair and walking to the fireplace

For the very first time, the air feels heavy.

You look back to the other three who are all staring at you like a deer in headlights,

"Go. Just go, i'll take care of him" you shake your head, watching them wander off to the main street.

A pit forms in your stomach, the anxiety creeping up in your throat when approaching a visibly angry jungkook

You've never felt bad for bickering with him, mostly because he always returned it

But this time, it hurt. Something shifted when you saw his doe eyes glimmer, almost like he was hurt himself.

The way his jaw clenches when you stop in front of him makes you shiver,

"What?" He snaps, breaking a couple branches and throwing them on the stack,

"I'm sorry" you mutter, the pride in you never backing down, your voice sounds as annoyed as it did 4 minutes ago,

He takes a second to respond, stepping closer to you,

"You piss me off so much" he says, locking his eyes on yours, his gaze is dark, almost intimidating

The air feels even heavier now, you try to ignore it, ignore the goosebumps you get from his voice,

"We're equal then"

His tongue grazes the inside of his cheek, eyebrows furrowing slightly

"No we're not. We can't be"

The anger inside you boils up quickly,

"Why? Because you're so much better than everyone?" you spit out, mockingly pouting at him,

"No. because you think i'm insufferable and don't want me around" he replies, almost cutting you off in the sentence

"Whats not equal about that? You literally hate me-"

"Shut up" he says, this time fully cutting you off

"What did you say?" you laugh out in utter disbelief,

"I said shut. Up."

"You know what? No because-"

"Oh my god will you shut up? I hate you? Are you insane?" borderline yelling, his eyes never leave yours, staring you down

This time, you have nothing to say.

"I hate you? Seriously? Like i haven't been in love with you for years? Like i can't take my eyes off of you, and the only reason i show off is to impress you? Like it doesn't hurt my feelings when you pretend like the worst thing is to be near me?"

The words leave his mouth so quickly, neither yours nor his mind can catch up, panting, he looks at you, biting his lower lip, seemingly realizing what he just admitted to

His hands run over his face,

"Look i-"

"Jungkook" it's your turn to interrupt him now, looking him dead in the eyes,

You're met with nervousness,

"Yes?" he says, whispering

"If you don't kiss me right now i'll kill you"

There's no time to think when he ruthlessly crashes his lips to yours, grabbing you by the waist with greedy hands and pressing your body to his,

His lips are needy, eagerly moving against yours with groans muffled into the kiss,

You sigh softly, hands finding his jaw to pull him in closer,

His teeth bite at your lower lip, making you open up just enough for him to slip his tongue in, exploring every inch of your mouth

A couple minutes of this heated kiss go by, until he breaks it, ragged, heavy breathing fanning against your lips

His forhead rests on yours,

"Holy fuck" you whisper, making him smirk slightly, connecting his lips to yours again,

"I need you so bad" he mumbles into the kiss in a deep groan, pushing his lips against yours with desperation

You pull away this time, hands on his shoulders while your face is moved back enough to see him in full view,

Swollen pink lips, barely illuminated face

"If this was a ploy to sleep with me you're gonna drown in that lake" you laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly

He snarks, hosting you up in his hands before carrying you to his tent,

"Unfortunately i am an embarrassing amount in love with you, but hey, if you don't wanna fuck-"

You shut him up by kissing him,

"Don't ruin the mood" you say, climbing into his tent on all fours

His eyes focus on your ass, round enough to show beneath the shorts,

With now both of you inside the tent, his hands immediately find your hips,

"We don't have much time pretty, i'll make it up to you at home" he says, pulling your shorts and panties down in one go,

Your back arches immediately, the noise of his joggers being pulled down only adding to the exciment

"It's okay kook, i'm as desperate as you are" you reply, only to feel him smack your ass harshly,

"So you did imagine sucking my dick?" he says, groping at your soft skin,

"Many times jungkook"

suddenly, you feel his thumb move down to your entrance, pressing in only slightly before pulling away

"Fuck you're so sexy. Can i pull your hair?" He groans, pumping his heavy cock before guiding it to slide between your folds,

"You freak, god, yes, you can"

A strangled moan leaves your lip when he pushes his entire length in, one of his hands gripping your hip tightly while the other one gathers up your hair, pulling on it

"Fuck, you're so tight. You're not a virgin are you baby?" he huffs, snapping his hips against yours slowly at first,

You giggle between moans, gripping at the tent floor with what you can gather,

"No- i'm not. You're just- fuck- huge"

He throws his head back, pulling on your hair harsher while his hips speed up significantly, hitting that soft spot inside you over and over again,

Both of you are trying to keep the moans down, yours muffled by the ground under you, jungkook's deep growls quiet enough for only you to hear

"You feel so good, i wanted to fuck this pussy for ages" he mutters, letting go of your hair to harshly pull your hips back, making you meet his thrust half way,

Your knees feel weak, pressed into the ground and that pool in your stomach only grows, threatening to snap any second

"You're mine now right baby? My girl? My pussy? My bratty little thing?"

you let out a high pitched yes, followed by a desperate plea of his name,

"Gonna cum?" he groans, pushing his hips deeper inside of you,

You only manage to nod, mind having gone practically blank with the way he feels inside of you,

The knot snaps, legs shaking and cum coating his dick entirely,

"Mhm fuck, coming baby" his moans are deep, pushing a few slow thrusts into you, splurting his milky cum inside your cunt

A few minutues of silence pass before he pulls out, watching your pussy pulse and release his cum slowly, his entire shaft covered in the both of yours arousal,

Suddenly, you feel him kiss the side of your hips before softly flipping you around, making you lay on your back

You smile up at him weakly, watching as he cleans the both of you up carefully, pulling your panties and shorts back to normal before laying down next to you

"I left fingerprints, does it hurt? I didn't realize how rough i was pulling you" he says, placing small kisses on your cheek

You shake your head, intertwining your hand with his,

"It's okay. You're actually nice, wow" the urge to be teasing him returns, nudging his nose with yours

Jungkook bites your cheek playfully, then, he kisses all over your face,

"Stoooop" you whine, a broad smile creeping up to your face,

"I'm obsessed with you. God, you don't even know" he mumbles, cupping your face in his hands

"Should we knock or something?" Tae says,

The three of them standing a couple meteres from your tents,

They have been, for the past 20 minutes,

Bags in each hand,

"Uhm? Sure" Miso says, turning her attention to the tent again,

"Well," jimin starts, "at least they get along now"

#redcherrykook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fluff

2K notes · View notes

pseudowho · 9 months ago

Text

Fire and Iron

Forced to stay the night with Nanami Kento, the town's blacksmith, after tending to his wounds, you find yourself smouldering in his irresistible flame.

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, loss of virginity

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Your boots cracked through the ice-topped slurry puddles scattering the mud path in the village. The shawl bundled over your shoulders was not enough, and the biting cold wind whipped your cloak back, stripping its usefulness off your shivering shoulders.

Townsfolk waved to you, nodding, smiling; greetings for a familiar face, many of them grateful for your travels to their icy town over the years, lacking even a basic healer of their own, let alone one so talented.

Passing by the blacksmith's hut on your way, you paused out the front, feeling the heat bellowing forth like dragon's breath. You tipped your head back, the smell of ash and steel filling your nose. As you paused, moments after, so did the clang of hammer on anvil.

You opened your eyes, stinging in the brutal cold and smoke. You, once more, like a hundred times before, had caught the eye of the blacksmith. He, whose name you did not know. He, who looked but never touched. He, to whom you had passed so many thousands of hours of your life, and his life to you, through gaze alone.

Stood proud at the anvil, shadowing the forge like the door to hell behind him, his broad shoulders wore only an open-chested white linen shirt, and a thick brown leather apron. With his ashy blond hair, and the lines of his face filled with soot, he was ageless and unknowable. He looked to you, his sharp face quiet and impassive; expression always somewhere between fury and tranquility.

Your lips parted once, as if to speak, and it jumped the blacksmith to life. With a barely perceptible nod, and a grunt, he swung his hammer back, brought down in beautiful accuracy, shaping smouldering steel. The clang rung through you, your chest jolting with a short gasp, and you collected yourself, stepping onwards. You were sure you could feel his cool gaze through the back of your head.

Another patient; another healed. Another grateful family; another life prolonged. The days were short now, and as you stepped out of the house of rough-hewn wood and stone, the forest pines were bathed in dying light, netting the low winter sun above the horizon. It was a punishing journey home, on foot, and the horses were long since put to bed.

The blacksmith's hut held its own sunset, the forge open but unattended. You heard stamps, heavy feet and cursing. You paused in the burst of warmth, illuminated, listening. Curiosity carried your feet into the hut, the heavy wet hem of your skirts collecting ashes, absorbing the blacksmith's domain.

"Are you...are you alright?" You called, uncertain, "Sir?" The footsteps, the swearing, had stopped. You stepped further in, feeling the forge belch at you, almost excruciatingly hot now.

"Get away from there!" The bark, deep and commanding, made you squeak and stumble. Darting through the side door, the blacksmith looped one thick arm round your waist before you fell towards the forge, effortlessly lifting you round, his back to the furnace, his face in shadow.

He was close; close enough that you could smell the soft sweat, the tang of fire and metal. He hissed as your hands dropped to his forearm, and you felt a cold dripping cloth draped over it.

"Do you often wander into places uninvited?" He snipped at you. You recognised the cadence in his low voice-- pain.

"I-- ...you're hurt," you insisted, voice barely above a whisper. Looking up, your eyes tried to gauge his unreadable face in the gloom. You felt him huff, warm air across your cheeks. His arm loosened, releasing you. As he stepped back, turning away to close the forge, you saw the blacksmith's mountainous shoulders tense, twitching.

"It's nothing," he retaliated, brisk. You stepped forwards again, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. At first, he flinched, then begrudgingly allowed you to turn him, and lift the damp rag covering his forearm. A thick welting burn, running the length of his forearm, lay weeping and angry on his skin, already nicked with so many little scars. You heard his teeth grit as the air hit his wound.

"Nothing," you scoffed, "this needs dressing. Let me help you." You felt him flinch beneath your hands, hesitant. He felt his skin prickle under yours, finding such curious pleasure in your touch alongside his pain. Your beseeching eyes took him the rest of the way, and he found himself accepting you.

"I...not here," the blacksmith toned, his eyes flitting to the town around him, "if they believe me injured, I'll lose business." You nodded, rummaging in your overburdened satchel, until he took you gently by the hand.

"My home," he began, hesitant, your hand so soft and small in his broad calloused palm, "you'll...you are welcome. It is clean. Quiet. I...I will not harm you. I promise."

Aware of his size and strength, aware of the air of mystery surrounding him amongst the townsfolk, the blacksmith was quick to reassure you. Your eyes softened, and his thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles at your words, electricity crackling up your arm.

"I know you won't," you assured. The briefest smile graced his severe face when you offered your name. You felt it warm you from the belly downwards. As he pulled encouragingly on your fingers, leaving the forge to die naturally with the approaching nightfall, you were led through the back of the hut, seeing a newly revealed sprawling cabin of wood and stone, at the edge of the forest. You felt the first kiss of snow upon your cheek.

"Nanami Kento," the blacksmith replied, welcoming you over the threshold. You smiled up at him, taking in his home; barely lit, at first, until he struck a lantern to life. You placed your bag upon a table, rummaging for salves as Kento began to build the fire, skilled and efficient.

You basked in the homely room; autumnal tapestries lining the walls, skin rugs on the floor and furs on the chairs, hanging herbs above a countertop, circled with hung skillets and pans. You relaxed easily into the sincerity of Kento's welcome. A frigid wind slapped the windows, rattling the door.

Before long, an enormous cast iron pot boiled with water, and you knelt before Kento, appraising his wound in the orange glow. Cleaning your hands, wetting a rag with clean water, you moved to clean the ash from his arm before pausing.

"This will hurt," you apologised, looking up to him. Kento's heart stuttered; how many hours had he spent, imagining those sweet eyes, those gentle fingers? Too long. Too many words unspoken over too many years. He was not used to such tenderness.

"I am used to pain," he hushed, smooth and barely audible above the crackle of flame, "my job has certain...hazards, after all." You hummed, swiping the cloth gently, removing dirt and debris.

"Still," you hummed, "I don't like to hurt a friend." Kento chuckled, and you felt yourself blush from hairline to toes at the rich mirth of it.

"We are...friends, are we?" His voice was low and conspiratorial, and you felt it stir a hunger deep within you. You smiled back, mulish as you dabbed salve onto his burn. His knees were parted, with you knelt between them, and your elbows rested on the thick muscle of his thighs. You felt safe, warm, held.

"All those years, passing back and forth," you sighed, teasing, "and not one hello? Just lots of nods," your stomach swooped as Kento laughed again, "and our friendship is just that. An accumulation of nods."

"Would we have stopped at 'hello'?" Kento retaliated. He caught the brief pause in your bandaging, before you continued. You spoke, uncertain again.

"Well," you hummed, testing the water, "offer me one now...and we shall see where it goes." Looking up, you gasped to find your face just inches from Kento's. He smiled at you, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips and back up again.

"Hello," he whispered, quiet and mischievous, "and thank you."

Your breath fluttered out; Kento could feel it against his lips, beckoning him.

"I...it's getting late," you started, and Kento blinked out of his reverie, glancing to the inky black outside his windows, "I should go."

Kento grasped your fingers once more, rising with you as he stood, your shawl shushing against his chest, barely covered by his soft linen shirt. Kento hummed, sounding grave, stepping to the other side of the room.

"It is night," he said, hands cupped around his eyes as he squinted out of the windows, "and the woods are barely safe in the day. I...I cannot allow you to travel. Alone, in the snow. You must stay."

His tone broached no argument, yet still you tried, packing your bag, your cheeks aflame.

"I...it isn't..." you stuttered, and Kento turned to you, chin inclined to the floor, one fine eyebrow raised. You took a deep breath, certain that if you didn't leave now, you may fall too deeply into Kento's insistent heat. Yet...you knew he was right. The path was treacherous. The snow would take you before the dawn.

"Would you like a bath?" Kento offered, turned away to save you your blushes; a gentleman.

"I-- please don't go to any trouble--" Kento swiftly ignored you, beginning to grasp the enormous iron pot, lifting it with stunning ease. His voice didn't even hitch.

"It's no trouble. I bathe every night. You can go before me." Kento carried the pan, stepping behind a folding wooden screen, and you followed him as if to argue, watching him begin to fill an enormous copper bathtub. Your hands shook as you began to remove your shawl, still blushing, so briefly overwhelmed before squashing it down.

Kento glanced up at you, pausing as he poured hot water, "This will take me some time," he said, apologetic, "please make yourself comfortable. I'll call for you."

You nodded, clearing your throat, hands twisting in your removed shawl. Kento chastised himself for admiring the soft curve of your breasts into your waist, the hidden delight of the swelling of your hips beneath your heavy skirts. He did not see how the steam rose fast, dampening his white shirt, how you could see all the way to his navel as he leaned over the bath. Neither of you knew how the other stirred within.

As you walked the length of the room, your fingertips brushing tapestries and grazing over warm furs, your curiosity drew you to a wide, flat trinket box, inlaid with mother of pearl, the colours an aurora in the rolling firelight. You stroked the box just once, before lifting the lid.

Your eyes crinkled immediately with joy at the treasures within; the box was full of lovingly crafted necklaces of gold, silver, pearl and gem, the chains finer and softer than any you had ever seen. You did not feel Kento approach as you admired them.

"I'd like for you to choose one," he offered, sincere, as you spun to face him. He raised his hands placatingly, a smile at the edge of his mouth, "not in lieu of payment, of course. A gift, I...made them with no real aim as to who should receive them."

"You made these?" You gaped, unable to fathom how such enormous hands crafted such intricate delights, "Kento, I-- they're beautiful, I couldn't possibly..."

If Kento had held any reservation, after hearing his name tumble from your lips, he was filled with the burning certainty that the jewellery should be for you, and you alone. His hand closed over yours as you moved to shut the box.

"Please," he breathed, so close, "choose one, or I shall give you them all." Swallowing, your hand hovered over a fine chain of silver and emerald, your fingertips brushing the gem. Kento hummed his approval, before picking it up, his calloused fingers all softness and grace.

"My favourite, too," he rumbled, brushing your hair off the nape of your neck as he clipped the necklace into place. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers on your neck, and almost ran as he whispered beside your ear, "Your bath is ready."

Stripping behind the wooden screen, hearing Kento amble around the room beyond, you sighed as the hot water enveloped you. Washing yourself with a soft sponge, cleaning off the grime of the day, your hand wandered absentmindedly downwards, fingertips grazing through your folds, naturally moving to relieve yourself of the building tension--

"I've left you a shirt." Your hand darted upwards with a guilty splash, Kento's voice only meters away behind the screen.

"Thank-- thank you," you squeaked, blushing, before climbing out, so naked apart from your exquisite new necklace. Drying on a soft towel, your hand hesitated over the shirt draped over the screen, before pulling it on over damp skin. It reached down your thighs, but left little else to the imagination.

Kento remained outwardly stoic, unreadable, averting his gaze as you crept out, arms holding yourself and squashing your breasts together, the colour of your nipples as faint as a ghost under the white linen shirt. He cleared his throat, coughing lightly before skirting past to the bath. You felt heat creep up your neck at the gossamer hush of his clothes hitting the floor, the shifting water as he stepped in, the way he sighed in relief, almost as if--

"I shall sleep in the chair tonight," Kento said, slow and considered, "and you shall have my bed." You felt indignation roll within you.

"Don't be ridiculous," you scolded, "you're injured, and this is your home--"

'-- and you are my guest," he grumbled.

"I won't allow it," you insisted, almost forgetting yourself as you approached the wooden screen, "I'll put some furs on the floor and--"

"You believe I would let you sleep on the floor?" He growled, furious at your suggestion, "I should rather you have me share the bed with you over that--"

"Fine. Then we shall share the bed. And there will be no more argument." You clapped a hand over your mouth as the words tumbled forth, unbidden. Mortified by your own suggestion, you removed your hand to speak again.

Kento stepped round from behind the screen, his towel draped lazily round his waist. You gaped up at him, stunned. He was...younger than you thought, his blond hair now soft and floppy, the ash removed from the lines in his face, taking ten years off him. You faced him, his towering form, the practiced rolls, peaks and planes of muscle belonging to a working man, his forearms so thick--

"Then...we should get to bed," Kento insisted, stepping past you, through a doorway to his bedroom, where you heard him rummaging for clothes, "it is late and I am up with the lark."

You hesitated where you stood, feeling your heartbeat between your legs, desperately curious, but paralysed.

"I don't bite," Kento called out, and you gulped down the sounds of soft fabric dropping over his body, still crippled with indecision and embracing yourself as he stepped out to put out the fire. You were lost momentarily in darkness before he stepped to you, the lantern between you, a beacon in the dark. You felt his hand close around your fingers again. You heard him whisper.

"It will become cold quickly, now the fire has died. Come. Stay warm."

You allowed yourself to be led to Kento's bedroom, hypnotised by the small swinging lantern. Kento led your hand downwards, placing it to the edge of the bed for you to feel your way, your fingers gliding through soft fur and cool sheets. With shaking hands, you crawled across to the head of the bed. Kento waited for you, flipping down the sheets, flipping them back up to your chin as you both slipped between them.

You heard nil but your own heartbeat. Kento faced you, the torch light embering behind him leaving him only just visible as your eyes adjusted to the light. The sheets had not yet warmed from your bodies, and you shivered. You felt Kento shift beside you.

"You...are cold," he stated as if in question. You remained quiet, gripping your hands to your chest lest they reach out for him.

"I'm...I'll warm up. Soon," you reassured yourself as much as him. You heard one doubtful grunt from him. Five minutes passed, and still, Kento felt you shiver against the sheets. Pulling a fur up to your chins, he felt prickles up his legs as one of your feet reached hesitantly out to touch him. He felt rather than heard you sigh.

"So warm," you whispered, your little voice soft with comfort in the dark. Kento's breath caught in his chest, feeling his cock twitch inside his soft trousers.

"Do you...need me?" He offered. He felt your other foot reach out in answer, cold toes wiggling against the downy hair on his leg. He felt a dangerous, needy arousal thread through him.

Reaching out his uninjured arm, he hooked it round your waist, chuckling as you squeaked when he pressed against you. You hummed in pleasure at the heat rolling off him, basking in his warmth, forgetting your awkwardness for a moment. Kento and you lay intertwined like that, with you softening like butter in his arms.

After a few minutes, you shifted against him, about to drift off to sleep. Kento must have been near sleep as well, groaning into your hair as you shifted, reflexively clinging you closer to him. Your bottom, completely bare with his shirt shifted up your body, pressed back to his groin. His clothed cock was hard and barely restrained in his loose trousers, and pressed between your thighs.

You felt a jolt run through you, feeling a warm trickle of arousal, so alien to you, seep out between your thighs. Kento almost saw stars as it dampened the trousers over his cockhead, and he frowned, his forehead pressed to your shoulder blade in apology and embarrassment.

"I-- I'm sorry, I--...it's been so long...since I've felt a woman-- shit, I'm--" Kento rested his nose against your neck, unable to stop himself from ghosting his lips there. You dropped your head back to him, and he growled in appreciation, nuzzling your neck, feeling your thighs clamp around the tip of his cock, your arousal seeping through his trousers and mixing with his own.

"I've never--" you whispered, blushing furiously, drunk on the feeling of his body against yours, feeling so curiously empty and aching to be filled. Kento understood immediately, and moved to pull back.

"No!" You squeaked, holding onto his arm, pushing yourself back to chase him along the bed, "Please, I-- I want--...you. I want you." Your words sat heavy in the air. Kento shifted behind you, at war with himself.

"You don't know what you're asking," he growled, fighting against you to remove his arm, "I am no boy."

"And I'm no girl, nor stupid," you reassured, "I'm not ignorant."

In an instant, Kento moved above you, on all fours, his arms caging you in, corseting you to his bed. He stared down at you, enormous chest heaving, eyes roving down your body, quickly intoxicated by your peaked nipples, beneath his shirt, the hem of it barely covering your sex, still feeling your arousal dampening his cock.

He leaned down, nestling his mouth against your neck again, tongue flicking out, tasting you. He felt you still under his lips, just a little mouse, in the jaws of a bear.

"And yet, all that knowledge is just academic, until you're crying out that my cock is too big for you," he growled, warning you away, barely able to stop himself. He felt you squirm beneath him, his head swimming with you. He was lost, then, to your tiny whisper in the gloom.

"Show me-- please." Kento shuddered, a drop of pre-cum seeping out of his cock, soaking through his trousers and your-- his-- shirt, to dampen your belly. You shivered, desperate to know Kento biblically, desperate for this fabled ecstasy.

Kento raised his mouth from your neck, reading your eyes, seeing such certainty in them. Tangling his fingers with yours beneath the sheets, he pressed the length of his body down against you as he kissed you, his other hand framing your jaw, gently encouraging it open to slide his tongue against yours. Your soft little moan was like music to his ears.

Kissing you deeply, learning your voice and your mouth, letting you learn the peaks and planes of his body with your free hand, Kento kept your other hand plaited with his own, fearful of leaving you to take this journey alone.

He felt himself shudder with the unbridled privilege of being able to worship you, jealously grateful that you had not been left to some boy. He was overwhelmed by the need to set your standards high at the first hurdle.

"Let me taste you," he murmured into your mouth, and you hesitated, unsure of what he meant. Swiping his thumb across your palm, Kento's mouth ventured downwards, sucking the skin of your neck, nipping before soothing the skin with his tongue, feeling you become pliable, supple as water. His fingers danced over the laces holding your shirt together, giving you opportunity to stop him, before untying them, freeing your breasts.

Laying his tongue flat over one nipple, Kento allowed it to curve to the shape of you, to know you, before drawing it into his mouth, sucking on your nipple while his hand toyed with and kneaded the other. He revelled in your whines, a high, keening mewl as you arched off the bed into his mouth. You felt his licks and sucks, curiously, between your legs, and you could not help but buck up against him.

Kento grunted at the feeling of your pussy pressing against his thigh, and moved one hand down to hold your hips still.

"Slow down-- let me show you," he ordered, gentle in his insistence. You trembled under his fingertips, your hips settling back to the bed. He rumbled his approval, rolling your nipple under his tongue again until you sighed, breathy and ecstatic, "Good girl."

In reward, his mouth continued to trail downwards, and your eyes fluttered closed, one hand coming to rest on the back of his head, your fingernails scratching through his damp hair. Kento shivered at the sensation, feeling his cock leap against his thigh.

When his mouth reached your mound, you squeaked out in alarm, flipping the blankets down to see Kento, illuminated in the orange light.

"What are you-- your mouth, Kento--" Kento's eyes crinkled up at you, and two arms came to loop round the top of your thighs, pulling you down the bed towards him, your shirt being rucked up against the drag of the mattress to completely expose your glistening pussy to him.

Maintaining eye contact with you, you trembled with anticipation as Kento poked his tongue out into a point, first grazing your folds, before stroking from side to side to ease in between them. The sound that broke out from you as his tongue stroked over your clit, hot and wet, was one Kento masturbated to for years to come.

You felt as though you had been lifted from earth and dropped amongst the clouds as he licked at you, sucking, stroking, tasting, the pleasure so otherworldly compared to what your own hand could achieve, that you felt yourself being rushed towards your peak at speed.

Twisting and squirming against his mouth, you reflexively tried to pull your pussy away from Kento's attentions. His arms tightened around the tops of your thighs, growling into you, pulling you back as you tried to scoot away. Your hand tugged at his hair as you arched, whimpering, coated in a fine sweat. As Kento groaned into your cunt, you watched his hips roll and hump against the bed, the sight alone enough to send your orgasm crashing through you, and you worshipped his name in a long, keening cry.

Kento let his laps and sucks become softer, languid, letting you float through the haze of your pleasure. Nuzzling at you, tasting you as you trailed lazy blissful fingers through his hair, Kento planted soft kisses to your inner thigh.

Moving back up, stroking his nose against your neck, Kento felt your hand move down his shoulders and back, before coming round to ghost over the front of his trousers. Kento shuddered, kneeling above you to remove his shirt, skin prickling with the need to feel yours against his own.

Gazing down at you, his eyes like whiskey in the flickering light, he grazed a palm from in between your breasts, down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head in one swift tug, exposing you completely to him.

Your hand still trailed over his groin as he knelt, and you were captivated, obsessed with the shape, weight and length of his cock in your hands, blissfully unaware of what you were doing to him. As you grasped the lace at the front of his trousers, undoing it, and squeezing the head of his cock between your fingers, Kento moaned, ragged, leaning one hand sideways to support himself.

"Fuck-- I haven't-- not for so long," he moaned, low and husky, feeling your inexperienced fingers explore his cock and balls in a way that felt almost abusively naive. As your thumb glided beneath his foreskin, collecting the wetness of his pre-cum, exploring his slit, Kento hissed, panting and grabbing your hand.

You broke out of your reverie, blushing with mortification, tears pricking in your eyes as you began to apologise. Kento interrupted, shushing you, one hand still gripping your fingers around his cock, the other coming up to cup your face, his thumb swiping across your cheek.

"Not you," he huffed, stroking your cheek, smiling down at you with fevered eyes, "me, it's-- I-- I'll cum in your hand if you carry on." Your eyes glimmered, hungry to see how he looked as you pleasured him, and you moved yourself, leaning close, squeezing him again beneath his own hand, and he cried out in pleasure. You felt another drip of his arousal across your fingers, and you gulped, your tongue darting out across your lips.

As you lowered yourself to his lap, Kento's eyebrows raised in shock, and desperate awe, as you licked the weeping cockhead sticking out from your joined enclosed hands.

A low rumble ebbed through Kento, his eyes suddenly dark and hungry as he looked down at you, wordlessly using your hand inside his own, to pump the length of his cock. Feeling the intoxicating glide of soft skin over woody hardness, you let him use your hand to masturbate himself as you took the head of his cock into your mouth, licking, tasting the musty pre-cum there.

Every instinct screamed at Kento to chase his orgasm, to press your head further down his cock so he could use your little hand to jack off into your mouth, and he felt overwhelmed by the innocent licks and sucks you gave him, eyes cast upwards to see what effect they had on him. Kento moaned desperately, twisting on his haunches, fingers in turn tangling into your hair and coming away, clenching and unclenching at speed.

He felt the approaching rush of divine ecstasy, thrumming up his back in waves, his balls tightening up against the base of his cock--

Snapping, Kento pulled your hand and mouth off him, heaving you up the bed and back onto the pillows, before pinning you down with his body, panting into your neck, trying not to spill his seed over your belly. You were thrilled, ecstatic with Kento's pleasure, eager to see more of it.

You crept your hips up to his, trying to ease his cock into you. Kento huffed, his hand shooting down to press your hips down again.

"--going to kill me-- I swear-- no idea...you have no idea what you're doing to me--" Kento panted, quaking above you, one forearm planted above your head. As his peak ebbed away, Kento plaited his hand with your own again, above your head. He felt his cockhead resting against the smooth resistance of your entrance, and he suddenly felt so responsible for you.

"I don't want to hurt you," he huffed, aware he was bigger than average, but knowing from the fevered look in your eyes that he could not dissuade you-- not that he wanted to, at this point, his cock throbbing with urgent need.

"Please," you begged, "please." You felt Kento's hips press forwards into your soaking wet heat, feeling a slight sting as it met resistance. Kento rested his nose to yours, his eyes still feverish, his body still smelling of iron and ash and smoke.

"On one condition," he pressed, authoritative as his cockhead pressed deeper against your stinging resistance, breaking past thin membrane, gripping your thigh up to his hip as you trembled, biting your lip, tears in your eyes as you nodded-- anything, you thought, anything.

"Marry me," he whispered against your lips, and you squeaked as you felt a twang of pain, his cock suddenly nestled deeply inside you. Kento rocked his hips gently, shushing you, soothing you, his thumb stroking your palm. Not moving, just holding you as you adjusted to feeling so full, Kento waited for an answer.

"Y--yes...yes," you mewled, and Kento growled his approval against your neck, slowly pulling out of you before rutting back into your wet, tender pussy again, so intimate and deep that you cried out for him.

Kento rolled his hips, like a boat on the waves, whispering into you, certain he wouldn't last long; "First-- I'll cum inside you-- then I'll treat you like a queen...haaah...for the rest of my days."

You clung to Kento, lost in the ecstasy of him plowing into you, delighted by his rumbling groans in your ears, blissfully proud of being able to make such an unflappable man fall apart inside you. When his grip on your hip faltered, his shaking hand dropping to stroke quick little circles around your clit, Kento growled and bit into your neck to feel you rock your hips upwards to meet his own.

The sting almost completely eased, you felt quick pangs of pleasure, rising with every beat of your fast little heart, completely carried along by the eroticism of Kento's frantic groans and mumbles into your ear.

"My love I-- you feel so good...so good...god, I need to cum, need you to cum I-- aahhhh, fuck--" Kento felt your pussy clench around him, and he came inside you as you drank down his moans, fascinated by how they matched up with the bounding twitch of his cock, how his hips juddered into you involuntarily, how his face contorted, jaw clenched, somewhere between rage and serenity.

You were famished, starved of him, immediately desperate for more, and you felt him crumple into you, caging you in, shoulders heaving and spent. Kento chuckled as you peppered him with kisses, gripping your thighs round him and rolling him over so you lay above him, straddling him as his cock softened within you.

With his chin on his chest to look down to you, and a lazy lopsided smile across his face, Kento played idly with your hair, stroking your nose, your cheeks. He proudly fingered the beautiful necklace, resting against your breasts, squashed and plush against him.

"You meant it?" He asked, eager, concerned.

You hummed in delight, pressing a tender kiss to his chest as you nodded; "You had me at 'hello'."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Would the anon who requested Blacksmith!Kento PLEASE STAND UP so I can credit you for breaking my brain.

4K notes · View notes

witchywithwhiskey · 1 month ago

Text

sweet as honeycrisp

pairing: sugar daddy!ari levinson x sugar baby!female reader

summary: your sugar daddy takes you on an autumn-themed date to the apple orchard, and what starts off as a fun and flirty day unfolds into a meaningful turning point in your relationship.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, smut, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, piv sex, outdoor sex, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, biting, brief cockwarming, exhibitionism, light bdsm, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, very light degradation, lots of teasing, pet names (darling, honey), aftercare, happy ending, so much fluff

word count: 14.5k

a/n: whew i've been working on this for like two weeks now, and i'm so happy to finally be able to post it!!! i was struggling a bit with the emotional throughline of this fic, and i only decided on it very late in the editing game so if some things don't make sense, just ignore it!!! if you can believe it, i originally just wanted to write about a quickie in the apple orchard and it turned into this 🫣 anyway, i hope y'all enjoy!!!

“Kiss.”

The warm, playful voice of your sugar daddy, Ari Levinson, met your ears as you lowered yourself into the passenger seat of his Lexus, greeting you in the way he always did. When you closed the car door behind you, the sounds of the Manhattan street were silenced, leaving you in the relative quiet with Ari.

Eagerly, you twisted on the sumptuous seat of the expensive car to lean over the center console, brushing a teasing kiss to Ari’s scruffy cheek, your lips grazing the edge of his full beard. His skin was warm and inviting, and you lingered for a moment, breathing in the the familiar scent of Ari’s cologne, smelling of vetiver and leather.

When you pulled back, Ari’s blue eyes were glittering with a hint of mischief that made your heart thump with excitement, a warmth blooming in your core despite the cool air of the car’s air conditioning brushing your legs. It was a warm September day, the last remnants of summer clinging in the air as if it protested giving up its seat to autumn.

The thought crossed your mind that if any man looked like the embodiment of summer, it was Ari Levinson. His skin was golden with a perpetual tan, and his brown hair had sun-kissed blond highlights that shimmered in the daylight, though they were dimmed a bit in the shadow of his car.

Still, as he grinned at you, showing off his pearly whites framed by his dark beard, you couldn’t help but feel like the summer sun had taken a liking to you and sat beside you. When he looked at you like that, with that smile and those blue eyes shining like the sun off the ocean waves, you wondered what it would be like to have his attention all the time—to be more than just the sugar baby he took on occasional dates when he wanted to have fun.

Pushing those bothersome romantic notions aside, you raked your eyes down Ari’s form, noticing that he’d dressed down for your date. He wore a soft denim, long-sleeved button-up over a simple white t-shirt and tailored slacks. Casual loafers and sunglasses perched on top of his head completed the look. Even in such a simple outfit, he looked good.

“Show me.”

His voice was a deep rumble that pulsed between your thighs, and you flicked your gaze back up to his face, finding heat in his expression, the same mischievousness in his eyes that’d been there since you got in the car. The corner of Ari’s mouth was curved in a smirk, and you felt another throb of warmth in your core.

Your lips curled at the edges, a wicked smile curving your mouth as the energy in the car crackled around you, spurring your heart to beat a little faster. You knew exactly what Ari wanted you to show him, and you knew it was naughty—but that was part of why you liked spending time with your sugar daddy.

Ari was always urging you to be a little daring, to do something that made your heart race and your breath come a little faster. He didn’t push you, so much as guide you down the path to depravity, and you followed him willingly. You never felt more alive than when you were with Ari.

So while you smiled at him, you spread your legs on the leather seat of his Lexus, the short skirt of your dress falling between your parting thighs. Ari’s smirk deepened with satisfaction as he watched your movements with rapt attention. Your fingers toyed with the edge of your dress, the fabric having ridden up quite high on your thighs.

But before you could reveal what was beneath your skirt, you looked away from Ari, and it crashed over you that you sat in a car in the middle of a busy Manhattan street surrounded by other people. There were folks driving in their cars just outside your window and others walking by on the sidewalk beside where Ari was parked. There were even people filling up the buildings that overlooked the street. They were everywhere around you.

“Darling, look at me,” Ari murmured, his tone entreating enough to call your attention back to him.

You noticed his sparkling eyes had lost some of their mischief when you looked back at him. But the steadiness of his gaze had you relaxing when you hadn’t even realized you’d tensed up, and the corners of your mouth flickered in an uncertain smile.

“Do you trust me?” Ari asked simply. His face was open, no hint of pressure in his tone or voice.

For a brief moment, you considered his question, then you nodded your head. You watched as warmth flooded into his gaze, and it made you feel a little more sure.

“Lift your skirt for me, darling,” he implored, his eyes dropping to where your thighs were still spread, the flimsy fabric of your dress barely hiding your core. “Show daddy what you have under your pretty little skirt.”

You gathered every ounce of braveness in your body and pulled up the hem of your skirt. There, nestled between your spread thighs, was your bare pussy. The air in the car seemed to heat by a few degrees when you heard Ari suck in a sharp breath.

It had been Ari’s idea for you to go without panties on your date, and you’d agreed, the idea sending excited thrills through your body. Walking through the halls and the lobby of the Manhattan high-rise you called home, you’d felt like you had a secret that only Ari knew, and it gave you a delicious kind of satisfaction showing your sugar daddy how you’d gone without panties, your pussy fully exposed beneath your dress.

“You have such a pretty cunt, darling,” Ari groaned, his hand sliding up your thigh until the tips of his fingers teased the top of your slit.

You bit back a gasp and squirmed in your seat, trying to hold your hips back from thrusting into his touch.

“I never get tired of seeing this pussy, and how wet she gets for me.”

His fingers spread your lower lips and he brushed ever so gently over the tip of your clit, making you twitch in your seat, your legs shaking with the effort it took not to close them on his hand and trap him against your heated core.

“And the way your thighs tremble for me,” Ari rumbled, pulling away from your quickly dampening slit to grope roughly at your plush softness, his grip possessive in a way your sugar daddy rarely was.

“Ari.” His name was a breathy exhale, an undercurrent of admonishment in your tone as his touches stoked the blazing fire in your core, making you squirm even more on the seat. A sliver of worry wormed into your mind as you remembered the leather you sat on, which would surely stain if he kept touching you, and you gasped, “The seat.”

Ari only chuckled, the sound cavalier in a way that made butterflies take flight in your belly, but before you could chide him again, his hand was slipping back between your thighs. Ari dragged a finger from the bottom of your slit all the way to the top, flicking your clit and wringing a moan from your lips as your thighs trembled on the seat.

Then he was pulling his hand away, leaving you to drop your skirt to cover yourself, and popping his finger into his mouth. Your sugar daddy made a show of savoring the taste of you, and your head fell back against the headrest. You watched him suck your taste from his skin, your breaths heavy in your chest while Ari’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Mm, sweet as apple pie,” he praised, making heat rush to your face while you shook your head and rolled your eyes—even as your chest warmed at the compliment. Ari was grinning shamelessly at you when he grabbed your face gently and pulled you gently across the car toward him. “C’mere, darling, see how sweet you taste,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you.

The musky flavor of your body made you moan into Ari’s mouth, your sugar daddy devouring every little noise you made while he kissed you thoroughly. You sank into him, reveling in the smooth glide of his lips and the possessive exploration of his tongue. Your fingers curled around the collar of his denim shirt and you clung to him, feeling the edge of something more in the way he kissed you. It left you breathless when you finally pulled away.

You fell back into your seat with a soft “oomph,” the breath rushing from your lungs when you looked into Ari’s eyes. His blue gaze was softer than you’d ever seen it, and there was something in depths of his eyes that you couldn’t quite place—affection or fondness maybe.

A small, uncertain smile curled your lips, your heart thumping in your chest as you wondered if that’s how Ari looked at someone he truly cared about. Someone special to him, who had a more permanent place in his life than the sugar baby he called when he wanted to have some no-strings-attached fun.

For the briefest of moments, you could pretend Ari was more than your sugar daddy, and you were more than his sugar baby.

But then the moment ended, and Ari cleared his throat as he looked away, focusing on the wheel and gear shift of his car to put it in drive. A silent sigh of disappointment gusted from you, and you turned toward the passenger side window, intent on watching the city fly by once Ari eased into traffic.

To your surprise, Ari’s hand slipped into one of yours, his palm pressing against yours while he laced your fingers together. Your breath hitched with uncertainty even as the corners of your mouth flickered in a smile. It took you a moment to get used to the feeling of his hand in yours, turning it over to trace the veins on the back gently while he maneuvered his Lexus through the Manhattan streets.

It had only been a few months since you’d started seeing Ari, and while his touches were often greedy when you were fooling around, he hadn’t been prone to physical displays of affection since the first few dates you went on with him. Back then, he’d reached for your hand a few times, but after a point he’d stopped.

Truthfully, it had been a relief. One of your greatest fears was falling for a sugar daddy who didn’t return your feelings, and considering how handsome Ari was, you’d known it was a serious risk getting into a relationship with him. But he’d been so charming and carefree, you didn’t think it would be a problem to keep your heart out of things. He didn’t seem like he was looking for anything serious anyway.

So you’d focused on having fun, and that had been easy. Ari took you to expensive restaurants with delicious food in New York City, or he’d fly you somewhere else if he was itching to get away for a little bit. During meals, you’d chat about trivial things, then fall into bed together as soon as you were back in whatever hotel room Ari had booked for the night.

You didn’t quite know why your conversations didn’t go deeper than the shallow things you talked about, but you didn’t question it. It made everything so much easier if you didn’t truly know Ari—if he didn’t know you either. So you just stuck to safe topics, like planning dates and having sex.

Your relationship with Ari was a nice change of pace for you. He was far from your first sugar daddy, and you’d learned some hard lessons in your past relationships. Too often, sugar daddies wanted to know things you weren’t comfortable sharing, but Ari had never pried. He’d set boundaries and didn’t push them. You were grateful for that.

But another part of you, a part that started off small and was growing with every date you went on with Ari, yearned to know more about your sugar daddy. You wanted to know what he liked to do when he wasn’t working or taking you on dates. You wanted to know if he had any family, if he celebrated the holidays with them. You wanted to know if he’d ever had his heart broken.

Tamping down on those curious thoughts, you focused on the present—the music that was playing gently in the car, and the scenery passing by your window. The skyscrapers and high-rises of Manhattan had given way to the tightly-packed homes of the suburbs.

Biting your tongue against all the questions you wanted to ask, not even sure how you’d begin to try to get to know your sugar daddy better—let alone whether it was a good idea—you sat in silence with Ari. The suburbs eventually gave way to the lush forests and hilly countryside of the Hudson Valley, giving you something prettier to look at.

It was too early in September for the leaves to be changing yet, but there were glimpses of golden yellows and warm oranges among the green foliage. A hint of what was to come. Autumn was inevitable and you found comfort in the changing seasons.

Cozy weather was right around the corner, and you couldn’t wait for it. Hot apple cider and pumpkin pie, butterscotch cookies and mulled wine—you were a glutton for all the food and beverages associated with the autumn months. And you liked to make them yourself from scratch whenever possible.

It was part of the reason you’d wanted Ari to take you apple picking, though he didn’t know that. He’d just accepted the request and planned the date.

After a little while more of driving, Ari pulled off the paved road and onto a dirt track. There was a sign for Brothers’ Apple Orchard fixed to a worn, wooden fence, though dense trees hid the farm from view.

A little ways down the dirt road, the trees opened up into a large parking lot that was already packed with families and groups of friends going apple picking on the warm September afternoon. The sight and sounds of all the people had nerves twisting in your stomach, and you wondered if it had been a smart idea to go without panties to a place that was meant for wholesome fun.

You’d long since learned that Ari had an exhibitionist streak, and that day wasn’t the first time he’d told you to show up to one of your dates without panties. You’d always enjoyed the excitement in the inherent risk of wearing a dress without anything underneath, but he’d never taken you somewhere with so many families before. The consequences of getting caught seemed so much worse than they ever had before.

Ari must’ve felt your fingers tense in his because he gave you a comforting squeeze as he pulled his Lexus into an empty space and put the car in park. Once done, he looked to you, his smile faltering when he took in the way your brows were pinched and the corners of your mouth were turned down in an uncertain frown.

“Do you trust me, darling?” Ari asked, cupping your face and leaning across the car’s console to press his forehead to yours. His thumb stroked gently over your cheek, matching the sweeping of his other thumb against the back of your hand.

You were quiet for a moment, nibbling on your lower lip as you thought about his question—really thought about it.

It weighed on you a little that you didn’t know Ari very well, especially since a part of you desperately wanted to, but that didn’t mean you didn’t know his character. Ari had never pushed you to do something you didn’t want to do, and he always checked in with you when you were together, making sure you were comfortable and having fun. So while you didn’t know his favorite color, you did trust him.

Exhaling slowly, you nodded, your forehead shifting against Ari’s. “I trust you, Ari,” you said, your voice little more than a whisper, like you were telling him a secret in the privacy afforded by the enclosed space of his car.

To your surprise, Ari sighed in relief at your words, the exhale so short and quiet, you wondered if you’d heard correctly. But you didn’t have time to analyze it because Ari was pressing a quick kiss to your lips and then pulling back to open his door and step out into the September sunshine.

You watched as Ari rounded the front of the Lexus, a charming grin on his face as he winked at you over the hood of his car. It was only because you were alone that you allowed yourself a silly little giggle, your mouth spreading across your face in a wide smile. He opened your door and offered you a hand to help you out.

“Careful, darling, wouldn’t want to give anyone a free show,” Ari murmured teasingly while you slid your hand into his, feeling the roughness of his palm against the pads of your fingertips.

A zing of thrill went straight to your core at his words, joining the sparks you felt when you touched him. The fingers of your other hand played with the hem of your dress as you stepped one foot out of the car. You darted a look around, finding you had some relative privacy between Ari’s Lexus and the next car over, and pretended to rearrange your skirt.

In reality, you flashed your bare slit for your sugar daddy, biting your lip and ducking your head when you heard his sharp inhale. Ari made a low, tortured sound and squeezed your fingers, practically pulling you out of the car before pinning you against the side.

“Naughty girl,” Ari growled in your ear, pressing his big body against yours so you were trapped between his hard muscles and the warm metal of the Lexus at your back. “You’re going to get us in trouble if you keep flashing that pretty pussy at me, darling.”

A breathless, disbelieving laugh gusted past your lips before you could stop it, even as your head went a little fuzzy from the familiar scent of Ari’s cologne filling your senses. It felt like the vetiver and leather on his skin was embedded in your mind as a reminder of all the pleasure he’d given you, and with his body pressed against yours, it took you a moment to respond.

“You’re the one who told me not to wear panties to our apple picking date, daddy,” you reminded him, gripping the soft cotton of Ari’s t-shirt beneath his denim shirt, your fingers brushing against the sides of his tapered waist. You pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, brushing your body against his firm form enticingly while your lips grazed along his scruffy cheek. “Maybe you shouldn’t have done that if you didn’t want me to show you my achy, needy cunt.”

A low growl rumbled in Ari’s chest and he pressed you harder against the side of his car, his body impossibly warm and hard through the thin fabric of your dress. You could feel every firm line of him against your soft curves, including the thick bulge digging into your stomach.

Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, Ari’s hands skimmed down your sides and dove beneath the hem of your skirt, palming your ass and kneading your soft flesh with firm, possessive fingers.

“Darling, if you keep saying such filthy things, you’re gonna end up in the back of my car with my cock buried in your achy, needy cunt,” he purred, a threat in his tone that he punctuated by nipping at your ear, making you gasp and arch into him, pressing your tits against his solid chest. “You’re gonna get us banned from the orchard because you won’t be able to stop screaming while I pound your pussy—is that what you want?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to say yes.

In the short time since you’d stepped out of the car, Ari had you feeling wet and aching and empty. Warmth flooded your body that had nothing to do with the sun shining brightly above your heads, and you wanted badly for Ari to free his cock from his slacks and slide it inside you.

But then the shrieking laughter of children punctured the bubble of lust surrounding you, and you remembered exactly where you were. Shaking your head, you dropped your gaze to the edge of Ari’s jaw while you sucked in a deep breath, focusing on the fresh air beyond the scent of your sugar daddy’s cologne.

Ari’s big body eased back, giving you more room to breathe and you ignored the pang of disappointment at the loss of him. Instead, you let the crisp autumn breeze brushing against your cheeks and dancing between your thighs cool you down.

After giving you a moment, Ari curled a finger beneath your chin and tipped your face up to look at him. His brows were lowered and his eyes looked at you questioningly.

“Do you still want to go apple picking?” he asked softly, planting his other hand on the hood of his car, as if he needed to force himself not to touch you so you could answer his question. The thought made you smile, and his eyes dropped to your lips, his thumb brushing quickly over the bottom one.

“I do,” you said in a light, breathless voice, a smile teasing around the edges of your mouth. On a whim, you nipped at Ari’s thumb, giving him a smirk when his eyes darkened. “If you think you can keep it in your pants until later, daddy,” you taunted him, pushing your hips forward so his bulge pressed into your belly.

“You’re such fucking trouble,” Ari growled before his mouth captured yours in a searing kiss. One of his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you into him while the other cradled your head gently, holding you exactly where he wanted you while he devoured your mouth, his tongue sweeping possessively past your lips until you were moaning softly into him.

A loud, clearing throat had you finally breaking apart. Both you and Ari turned your heads toward the sound, finding a blonde woman raising an eyebrow at the two of you before cutting her eyes pointedly to the children beside her. Your cheeks heated and you buried your face in Ari’s neck to muffle a cackling laugh.

“Apologies, ma’am,” Ari called gruffly, raising a hand in a repentant wave.

The woman huffed and rolled her eyes, which only made you laugh harder, pressing your face deeper into the warm curve of Ari’s shoulder as you tried to stay quiet. When the woman and her family were finally gone, you leaned back, giving Ari a cheeky grin.

“Think she’s gonna complain about us and get us banned?” you asked teasingly, sliding your hands up Ari’s chest until they rested on his shoulders, trying not to think about how easy it was to touch your sugar daddy so casually. “Tell them we were acting indecently in the parking lot?”

Ari laughed, chucking you under your chin gently before ducking down for a quick kiss. “If she does, I’ll just buy the farm,” Ari murmured against your mouth. “They can’t ban us if I own them.”

Your breath caught in your lungs at Ari’s pronouncement, surprise making your heart leap in your chest. Your sugar daddy had bought you plenty of expensive gifts since you’d started seeing him, but buying a farm so you could go apple picking in peace was on another level entirely. You had to wonder if Ari was serious, but the look in his eye was genuine when he pulled back.

“Don’t give me that look, darling,” he rumbled, his heated gaze raking over your face, taking in your wide eyes and parted lips. His thumb stroked over your bottom lip, pulling on it ever so slightly to the side, sending a little thrill through your body. “Or we aren’t making it into the orchard.”

You closed your mouth, swallowing thickly and bobbed your head in a nod. Then, you slid away from Ari, slipping from between his big body and the car and taking a deep, steadying breath.

Even with the warm September sun shining down on your shoulders, you felt a little cold without Ari’s heat and shivered. But you told yourself you were being ridiculous, shaking off the shiver and turning back to your sugar daddy.

Ari was standing with both hands planted on the hood of the car, his head hanging between them while he took deep breaths. He must’ve felt your attention on him because he lifted his head and gave you a charming smile.

“Just gimme a sec, darling,” he said, shooting you a wink before he straightened and dropped his hands to the bulge in his slacks.

You tried not to ogle your sugar daddy as he adjusted himself to make his hard length less prominent in his pants, but you knew what was hiding beneath his clothes and you knew how good his cock felt sliding inside you.

A sizzling, delicious warmth cascaded through your body, and you let yourself watch Ari’s big hands adjusting his bulge for a moment before tearing your eyes away and taking deep breaths of the fresh air to clear your head as much as possible.

A moment later, Ari slung his arm around your shoulders and together the two of you walked toward the entrance to the orchard.

It took effort, but you managed not to look down at the front of his pants, sure that if you did, neither of you would make it any further. And you did want to go apple picking. You had so many things you wanted to bake with the apples you were going to pick.

Keeping your chin up and your gaze forward, you and Ari walked to the small, squat red building that served as the entryway to the orchard. One side was for folks heading into the field of apple trees, and you joined the line while scrutinizing the size of baskets and crates you could get for picking.

Ari let you choose the size, and you picked a decent size wooden basket, thinking that would give you plenty of apples to use for baking. A farm worker explained that your apples would be weighed when you were done, and you paid per pound. Then they handed Ari a map that specified where each apple variety could be found, and the two of you were set free into the orchard.

“What kind of apples are we picking today?” Ari asked, peering at the paper in his hand while he snagged the basket from you.

You leaned into his side so you could read the map, and pointed when you found what you wanted. “Honeycrisp, honeycrisp!” you chanted, letting your excitement overtake you.

Ari chuckled, folding the map and tucking it into his pocket before giving you one of his charming grins. “Honeycrisp it is, honeycrisp,” he teased, smoothing his hand down your arm to lace his fingers with yours before he began walking into the orchard.

A shiver of delight raced down your spine at Ari’s gentle, familiar touch and the sweet new nickname. He’d only ever called you ‘darling’ before, and while you liked the pet name, ‘honeycrisp’ made you feel closer to your sugar daddy because it was meant for only you. It was something people in a real romantic relationship did, wasn’t it?

Your feet stumbled a little before you fell into step beside Ari. Out of the corner of your eye, you looked up at him consideringly, wondering—not for the first time—what he thought of you. If he thought you were someone worth caring about—if he thought of you at all when you weren’t together.

Your sugar daddy flashed an easy smile at you, and you couldn’t help but return the gesture, even as you thought about how difficult he was to read. He was always charming and easygoing, and it made it hard to figure out what he was really thinking, let alone what he was really feeling.

You did your best to push those pondering thoughts from your mind and simply enjoy the walk through the orchard with Ari. You reminded yourself that he’d made it clear he just wanted to have fun with you, so that’s what you were determined to do: Enjoy the warm day and pick some apples with your handsome sugar daddy.

The honeycrisp section of the orchard ended up being quite busy, with families and groups of friends forming small crowds around all the trees closest to the entrance of the field. You paused for a moment, your face falling in a small frown.

Ari must’ve seen your expression because he tugged on your hand and led you past the crowds, strolling down a long row of apple trees to go deeper into the orchard. The excited chatter of other people faded until you could barely hear them and the farm grew peaceful. Finally, you came to the edge of the orchard, and Ari pulled you to a stop at the end of a row of honeycrisp trees.

“Wow, that’s a lot of apples,” you said, peering up at the trees around you. They were bigger and taller than the ones you’d passed that were being picked over by the crowds. Their branches were practically bursting with ripe, red apples, the color swirling with yellow and green as it often did with that particular variety.

It seemed no one else had thought to escape the crowds and venture deeper into the orchard, because you couldn’t hear anyone else around. It was just you, your sugar daddy and the apple trees.

It was so perfect you couldn’t stifle the beaming grin that spread across your face.

“Should I go back for another basket—or a crate?” Ari asked, a grin in his tone.

When you finally tore your eyes away from the trees and their bounty, you found him staring at you, something like fondness in his gaze. It struck you that Ari had no idea why you wanted apples—you’d never told him you liked to bake or what you planned to do with the ones you picked—but he’d planned the date and was offering to help you pick as many apples as you wanted.

A warmth started in your chest, feeling as though it were wrapping around your heart and filling you up with a dizzying amount of sunshine, until your ribs were nearly bursting with it. Your cheeks felt warm, and your face ached a little from how wide you were smiling.

When you realized that you were staring back at Ari with just as much, if not more, affection than was in his gaze, you tried to tamp it down, forcing yourself to scoff lightly at his question.

“I think one will be plenty,” you said dryly, turning back to the trees and trying to calculate how many apples would fit into the basket Ari carried. Would it be enough for the apple crisp cheesecake recipe you’d been dying to try? You decided it would have to be.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, honeycrisp?” Ari asked softly, curling a finger beneath your chin and tipping your face to look up at him. He eased your bodies toward each other and your arms wrapped naturally around his waist.

It wasn’t until you’d pressed your hands to Ari’s back, your hands settling against the solid muscle of him, that you even realized what you were doing. When you did, you froze, feeling a little spooked by how easy it was becoming to sink into Ari’s casual touches and return them. It felt like there was a growing intimacy between the two of you, and you didn’t know quite yet how you felt about it.

“Honeycrisp?” you asked, latching on to the one thing you could think to say that would delay you needing to answer Ari’s question.

He’d never asked you what you were thinking before. When he checked in with you, his questions were always more direct, and more specific about what you were doing. You didn’t know if he really wanted to know, so you hoped a distraction might work.

Ari’s grin turned a little mischievous, like he knew what you were doing, and he wrapped his arms around you, hauling you up against his large, firm body. He ducked his head and nudged your nose with his, tickling your cheek with his beard until you laughed softly into his scruff.

“It fits, doesn’t it?” he asked in a low, rumbly voice that sent warmth dancing through your body. “You’re sweet as honey and as delicious as an apple crisp.” He kissed your lower lip, sucking on its plumpness with a slow, deliberate drag that had you nearly moaning into his mouth.

“Yeah, I like it,” you murmured when he released your lip, your voice obscenely breathy as your eyes fluttered open. You couldn’t remember closing them. Being so close to Ari, having his arms around you and his lips on you, was rattling your brain a little.

“Now, darling honeycrisp, tell daddy what had you thinking so hard about those apples,” Ari rumbled, his voice sweetly coaxing as he brushed butterfly kisses along your jaw. His lips were soft and his beard was coarse, and the contrast of the sensations had you sighing softly and melting further into his arms. “Unless you don’t want to tell me?”

There was a thread of uncertainty in Ari’s tone as he voiced the question, like he wasn’t sure if he was pushing too hard by asking you to tell him what you’d been thinking about.

It was so different to how other sugar daddies—other men in general—had treated you. They’d always demanded you tell them whatever they wanted to know, as if they had a right to every part of you.

But Ari wasn’t like that. He’d never been like that, and it didn’t surprise you that the first time he asked something even remotely personal, he was still giving you the opportunity to sidestep the question if you didn’t want to answer. It made you want to tell him all the more.

“I was thinking about what I want to bake with the apples we pick,” you answered, a smile teasing around the edges of your mouth. “And trying to make sure one basket would be enough.”

Ari brushed a kiss to the apple of your cheek, as if thanking you for telling him. Pulling back a bit so he could look at you, he tilted his head to the side in curiosity.

“You like to bake?”

You felt a little shy in the moment, ducking your head under the weight of his sparkling blue eyes, and nodded. “Yeah,” you said shrugging as if it was no big deal. Then, when Ari didn’t reply right away, you went on, filling the silence by answering a question he hadn’t asked. “I don’t usually tell sugar daddies—the one time I did, he got weird.”

Biting your lip to stem the flow of words from your mouth, you winced. You weren’t sure if Ari had known you’d had other sugar daddies before him, but it felt awkward to acknowledge the fact even if you weren’t ashamed of it. Besides, something inside you rebelled against the idea of lumping Ari in with all your other sugar daddies—he truly wasn’t like anyone else you’d been with.

“Weird how?” Ari asked in a tone gentler than any you’d heard him use before. One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, but he didn’t try to make you look at him, just stroked your skin with his thumb. The gesture was so profoundly comforting that you lay your head on his shoulder and gave a sigh of relief.

“Once he knew I liked to bake, he expected me to bake for him,” you explained slowly, choosing your words carefully. “But not just bake—he bought me an apron and skimpy little dresses to wear underneath it with these ridiculous heels. He wanted me to bake for him and…service him.”

You pressed your face into Ari’s shoulder, remembering the experience and cringing over what you’d let that man talk you into. He was a major reason you appreciated Ari’s boundaries so much. You felt safer, like things couldn’t spiral out of your control, with the boundaries your sugar daddy had set in place.

After you’d answered his question, Ari stayed quiet, just holding you, his thumb stroking soothingly over the back of your neck. His big arms felt so steady around you that you couldn’t help but take comfort in them, and you went on, feeling safe enough to tell Ari the rest.

“He took all the joy out of baking,” you said in a small voice. “I stopped seeing him soon after, but he wasn’t happy about it.”

Ari exhaled a sharp breath and he squeezed you in his arms, holding you tight for a long moment before he eased up a little.

“Thank you for telling me,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to your forehead. “I would love to try your baking, but only if you want—hell, you can come over today and use my kitchen and bake in one of my shirts if you want.”

A relieved laugh gusted out of you, and you were so glad Ari understood that it took you a moment to realize he’d invited you to his apartment.

You’d never seen where he lived—and even though he paid for it, he’d never been inside your apartment either. Ari had always gotten hotel rooms, even for dates in in the city.

You hadn’t thought much about it beyond appreciating the fact that Ari didn’t act entitled to be in your space because he paid for it. But now he was inviting you to his apartment, his space, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

Pulling back, you gave him a curious look.

“Are you sure?”

Ari leveled you with a look of his own, and though his gaze was serious, there was a hint of amusement in the curve of his mouth. “Are you sure?” he countered, his voice going low and rumbly as he went on. “If you start baking in my kitchen wearing only my shirt, there’s a very good chance I’ll eat more of you than whatever you make.” He raised his eyebrows, as if to drive home the lewd insinuation of his statement.

But despite his dirty warning—or perhaps because of it—you only warmed to the idea of baking in Ari’s apartment. It sounded fun in a way it hadn’t been with your past sugar daddy and you bounced on the balls of your feet as excitement flooded through you.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, daddy,” you sassed, shifting your arms to wind around Ari’s neck. You used your hold on him to keep your balance as you pushed up onto your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek. “I already know what I want to make.”

Ari chuckled, giving you a quick kiss before pulling out his phone and telling you to pull up the recipe so that he could forward it to his assistant to make sure his apartment had everything you’d need. You did as he asked and handed his phone back to him, watching for his reaction to the recipe you’d chosen.

To your delight, Ari groaned like he was being tortured, his thumb flicking over the screen as he scrolled through the recipe to look at all the pictures.

“You’re gonna make this?” he asked, before reading out the title, “An Apple crisp cheesecake?” He made another agonized sound before looking to you for confirmation.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, knowing he was excited despite the miserable noises he was making, and nodded eagerly to answer his question.

Ari shook his head with a disbelieving look on his face and tapped out a message on his phone before pocketing it again. Then he grabbed you around the waist and hauled you against him again.

“You’re trouble for my pants, honeycrisp,” he muttered, dropping a too-brief kiss to your lips. “First you make me hard enough I feel like I’m gonna pop my zipper.” He trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck in between his words, his mouth and beard tickling your skin while you melted into his arms. “Next you’re gonna fill me up with apple crisp cheesecake until my button breaks.”

You made a sound that was half-laugh, half-moan as you tipped your head to the side, giving him more access to nip and lick at your neck while you clung to his shoulders, your knees going weak from your sugar daddy’s attention.

“You don’t need to eat that much cheesecake, Ari,” you wheezed in between bouts of laughter, giggling harder when he nipped playfully at your ear.

“If it’s as delicious as you, I don’t know how I’ll be able to stop myself,” he flirted, kissing the spot just beneath your ear that had you shivering in his arms.

“Ari,” you said his name on a breathy exhale, and it was a good thing his lips captured yours in a searing kiss, because you didn’t have any hope of responding to his compliment. Instead, you showed him how much you appreciated it by kissing him back hard, your fingers tangling in his soft brown hair as you clung to your sugar daddy and made out in the apple orchard.

By the time Ari pulled away to let you get some air, you were breathless and happier than you’d been in a long time. To your own surprise, you felt good about opening up to Ari and telling him about your past bad experience. He’d made you feel heard and cared for, all while giving you reason to believe he’d never do anything like that to you. He made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t with any of your other sugar daddies.

Because of all that, you were actually excited to finally see his apartment. It felt like an important step, the beginning of something new, perhaps something deeper, and though there was an undercurrent of anxiety in your belly, you were more excited than anything else.

And if you weren’t mistaken, Ari looked excited, too. His eyes were looking at you with affection in their depths, and his mouth was curved into a genuine smile.

As he grinned down at you, Ari let his hands slide down from your lower back to your ass, groping you through your dress before swatting the soft cheeks lightly.

“Alright, honeycrisp, these apples won’t pick themselves,” he teased good-naturedly. “And I’ve got a craving for some apple crisp cheesecake now.” He waggled his eyebrows at you, making you laugh.

But you forced a serious expression onto your face and gave him a mocking salute. “Yes, sir,” you said in a deeper voice, trying to tamp down on the smile that wanted to break free.

You lost the battle when Ari gave a loud laugh, his head tipping back and the sun shining down on his golden face while he gave into your silliness. He recovered quickly, though, looking back down at you fondly as he rumbled, “That’s ‘yes, daddy’, to you, honeycrisp.” Then he slapped your ass a little harder to urge you to get a move on before he finally, reluctantly, pulled away and turned in the direction of the apple trees.

To ease some of the disappointment you both felt, Ari gave you a salacious wink that had your cheeks warming again. You couldn’t even blame the September sun on the heat in your face. Your sugar daddy was just so hot, it was hardly even fair.

To distract yourself from wanting to curl up in Ari’s arms and say to hell with apple picking, you snatched up the basket he’d dropped, arching your back and popping your ass to give him a peek at your pussy, then straightened and skipped to the nearest apple tree to start picking.

When you chanced a glance over your shoulder, you saw Ari’s eyes were heated and staring at the way your skirt fluttered around your ass, his big hand palming his bulge in his pants. You wiggled your ass for him, turning back around to hide your laughter when his long-suffering groan met your ears.

But you couldn’t keep your eyes off Ari and you turned your head to watch him out of the corner of your eye, catching him swiping a hand down over his face while he shook his head. Something about the gesture sent your heart pitter-pattering in your chest—which only got worse when Ari caught you looking and winked while he adjusted himself in his pants.

You felt giddy as you refocused on the tree in front of you, your breaths coming in soft little gasps as excitement and desire swirled in your core. It took you a long moment to gather your thoughts and remind yourself that you could not jump your sugar daddy in the middle of an apple orchard that was open to the public—no matter how much you desperately wanted to.

With slightly shaking fingers, you began to pick apples, doing your best to pay attention to what you were doing and make sure you were selecting the best fruit you could find. If Ari was going to try your baking for the first time, you wanted your apple crisp cheesecake to be the best that it could possibly be.

Ari came to stand beside you, and though you wanted him to put his hands on you, you were happy to see him dedicate himself to the task of picking apples, even reaching up to the branches that were too high for you. In turn, you showed Ari how to check for bruises and other unwanted things in the fruit before adding them to the basket at your feet.

Between the two of you picking apples, it wasn’t long before the basket was nearly overflowing, but you were having so much fun, you didn’t want it to end. So when Ari asked if you still needed more, you gave him a shy smile and said just a few. You didn’t want him to go get another basket—because, really, you didn’t need that many apples—but you didn’t want the apple picking part of your date to end just yet.

Your sugar daddy seemed to understand your desire to linger because he didn’t call you out on the fact that your basket could barely hold any more apples. Instead, he flashed you an indulgent grin and nodded, joining you under the apple tree where you’d been picking.

But rather than moving beside you, as he’d stood while you’d worked together, he came up behind you so that his chest was brushing against your back. His hands settled lightly on your waist, loosely caging you in beneath the apple tree with your body facing the trunk.

He ducked down so his scruffy, bearded cheek was pressed to yours and pointed to a cluster of apples just out of your reach. “Why don’t you grab one of those?” he suggested, the practiced innocence in his tone nearly making you snort with laughter.

You knew Ari was playing a game, you could feel it in the mischievous tension crackling in the air, and you were almost certain it would lead to some sort of naughtiness in the orchard. But your body was wound tight, and you wanted to get up to a little mischief with your sugar daddy, so you decided to play along.

“I can’t reach, daddy,” you simpered, proving your point by reaching your hand up to show that the apples were too high up, your fingertips only barely grazing the fruit. You used the movement to deliberately push your ass back into Ari’s lap and you had to smother a giggle when you felt the hard ridge of him in his pants.

“Let me help, honeycrisp,” Ari rumbled, and though you couldn’t see his grin, you knew it was there by the warmth in his voice. You bit your lip against your own wide smile.

Ari’s hand slid down your side, all the way to the back of your thigh, before he gently grabbed your leg behind your knee to lift it until your foot was planted on a low branch. Then he guided your hips deeper into his lap, where you could feel the long, stiff length of his cock wedging between your ass cheeks through your thin dress.

“C’mon, honeycrisp, reach a little bit more,” he urged, tilting your hips and bending his knees so that his hard bulge was pressed against your bare slit. Then he surged forward, lifting you just a little off the ground while he dragged the thick length of his cock against your weeping pussy.

You fell helplessly against the trunk of the tree, the apples forgotten as a low moan slipped past your lips. Ari teased you with his clothed cock, and your spine arched to bare more of yourself to his hard bulge. Craning your neck to catch Ari’s eye over your shoulder, you gave him a desperate, pleading look.

“Daddy, please,” you begged on a whine, pushing back into his lap and wiggling your ass side to side to try to entice him into giving you something more. You’d been teasing each other all day, and you were hitting a breaking point. You needed him to give you something.

Ari chuckled, burying his face in the side of your neck, his deep laughter rolling deliciously down your spine and settling between your thighs, until you were pulsing with desire. He curled around your body until he was surrounding you, your smaller form fitting perfectly within the cage of his arms.

He reached above you and easily plucked the apple he’d directed you to pick from the spot you hadn’t been able to reach and presented it to you. At the same time, his other hand began to wander, groping your soft tits until you moaned prettily again for him.

“Does it pass your inspection, darling?” he asked, urging you to focus on the apple he held in front of you.

Truthfully, you didn’t care anymore about picking apples—you had plenty of them in the basket at your feet—but you did your best to look it over. You turned it over in your trembling fingers, checking for bruises and bugs. Finding it to be perfect, you nodded.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” Ari murmured, taking the apple from your hands and pulling away to set it on top of the pile in your basket.

You had to bite back a whine at the loss of him, but he was back against you a moment later, his warmth surrounding you as his arms curled around your body. His hands slid up your sides and cupped your tits, kneading them in his big, strong hands until your head fell back against his shoulder and you let out a soft whimper of need.

“Now is that enough apples, honeycrisp?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his tone.

“Yuh huh,” you mumbled, nodding weakly as you arched your spine and pushed your chest into Ari’s hands. He rewarded you by pinching and plucking your nipples through the soft cotton of your dress, wringing a weak whine from your lips. “Plenty.”

“Good,” Ari rumbled, pressing his face into the side of your neck, his mouth licking and nipping at your skin like you tasted as sweet as the fruit you’d been picking, his rough beard making you shiver in his hold. “Because if I had to see your pretty pussy winking at me from beneath your skirt one more time while you were bending over or reaching for some apples, it was going to drive me fucking wild.”

A low moan slipped free from your lips while one of Ari’s hands skimmed down your front, sliding under the hem of your dress and cupping you between your thighs. His big hand covered your entire mound, which was sticky with your juices.

He growled when he felt just how wet you were, the sound reverberating down your spine and making your pussy spasm, more wetness dripping from your slit and into his palm.

“Fuck,” Ari ground out through gritted teeth, his voice rough with his own barely leashed desire. “You’re soaking wet for me, honeycrisp—I gotta feel you,” he said, an urgency in his voice as he sank two fingers into your drenched hole, pulling another moan from you. His hips were grinding his bulge against your ass so hard, you could feel him throbbing. “Gotta feel this tight warm cunt on my cock, ‘m not gonna make it back to the car—need you now.”

“Ari,” you whispered harshly, trying to sound angry, but the two syllables of his name came out dipped in desire and you felt your sugar daddy shudder against your back, his fingers working harder inside your sopping cunt, his palm making soft slapping sounds every time he bottomed out. “We shouldn’t.”

Despite your weak protest, you rolled your head to the side on Ari’s shoulder, peering through the branches of the tree toward where you’d left the crowds of other apple pickers. They were still so distant you couldn’t hear them over your soft, gasping breaths, but there was no telling when someone might stray from the others. They could stumble upon you at any moment.

The only protection you had from wandering eyes were the branches of the apple tree. Thankfully, they were close enough and the leaves dense enough that you couldn’t see much beyond Ari’s big body, but if someone came close enough, they’d no doubt hear you or Ari, and then you’d be caught.

“We’re going to get arrested,” you scolded in a hushed tone before turning your head to bury your face in Ari’s beard and stifle the moan on the tip of your tongue. He hadn’t stopped fucking you with his fingers and your reluctance was ebbing from your body just as surely as your desire was leaking into his hand.

Instead of responding to your statement with the seriousness you felt it deserved, Ari simply chuckled against your cheek and used his thumb to circle your clit, making your hips jerk into his hand, your body wordlessly begging him for more while you muffled a whine into the underside of his jaw.

“We’ll be fine, honeycrisp,” Ari soothed in a placating tone that made you growl like a feral kitten into his throat, so he switched tactics, his voice going low and rough. “Don’t you wanna feel me, honey?” He asked, grinding his hard length into your soft ass until you mewled pathetically. “Don’t you wanna drip your sweet juices all over daddy’s cock like a good girl?”

It was on the tip of your tongue to give in. You knew you shouldn’t. You knew there was a very real possibility that you could get caught, and it was only your fear of the potential consequences that held your words at bay. But Ari was well acquainted with the fear that held you back, and he knew exactly how to help you break through it.

“Just the tip,” he murmured, his voice so warm you could hear the smile in it. “Just take the tip, and stay quiet, and we’ll be golden.” He nuzzled your face, his beard rasping over your soft skin and sending tingles of delight all through your body.

You knew it was a ploy. You knew that Ari knew that you’d never be able to settle for just the tip of his cock—after all, you never had before. But it was easier to pretend you could settle for just the tip than to say yes to Ari fucking you in the middle of the apple orchard when there were people not too far away. It was the small step you needed to break free from your fear.

Lifting your head, you looked around. There was nothing to see except dense branches and leaves and endless apples. Ari’s body hid you entirely from sight, and you still couldn’t hear anyone else close by, so if you stayed quiet, you really could get away with a quickie in the orchard.

A wicked smile spread across your face and you turned your head to catch Ari’s eye over your shoulder.

“Just the tip?” you asked, you voice laced with suggestion. You knew Ari was going to end up sinking much more of his cock into you, but you wanted to play along for a little bit. “Promise, daddy?” Your question was meant to sound innocent, but you couldn’t help the way the corners of your lips wavered in an eager grin.

Ari chuckled and kissed the corner of your mouth, because he knew exactly what you were doing. “I promise, darling…” he said, trailing off as he pulled his fingers from your pussy with an embarrassingly wet sound that made him grin. “Unless, of course, you beg me like a good girl.”

“Hurry, daddy,” you cooed, wiggling your ass against Ari’s bulge, a teasing smile on your lips as you watched him over your shoulder.

Ari’s eyes darkened and then he was using his clean hand to fumble with his belt and fly while he swatted your pussy playfully with his drenched fingers. You gasped and twitched, trying to stay quiet and failing miserably as desperate keening sound slipped from your mouth.

At your urging, Ari wasted no time, shoving his pants open and pulling out his cock, pushing your dress up over your ass and rubbing the tip through your drenched folds. Both of you groaned, Ari’s face falling forward against your shoulder while you grabbed onto the trunk of the tree in front of you, trying to stay upright while your knees trembled.

Then Ari was pushing inside, the head of his cock sinking into the warmth of your pussy. The stretch of him was too delicious, and you moaned louder than was wise, but you couldn’t help yourself. He felt too good.

“What’d I say about staying quiet?” Ari rumbled in your ear, right before he shoved his fingers in your mouth. The tart taste of your wetness mixed with apples burst on your tongue and you moaned again, licking wildly at his fingers to get as much of it as you could. “Mm, that’s it, clean up your mess, honeycrisp—show daddy what a good girl you can be.”

Ari’s other hand gripped your hip, holding you steady while he fucked you with just the tip of his cock, pushing into your tight hole and pulling free until the tease of it drove you wild.

“Mm-oah, mm-oah,” you begged around Ari’s fingers, trying to push back on Ari’s stiff length and take more of him, but he held you still, forcing you to take only what he gave you. You bounced impatiently, the foot that was still lifted on one of the branches shaking it so furiously, the leaves rattled and a few apples dropped to the ground.

“Oh, did you want something, honey?” Ari asked, his tone filled with mocking innocence as he pulled his fingers from your mouth. You shot him a half-hearted glare over your shoulder, pouting.

“I need more, daddy, please,” you begged, giving him your best desperate, pleading look while you pushed back against his hold, reveling in the way he didn’t let you move to take him further. “Please split me open with your thick cock, daddy—I need it.”

Ari blew out a sharp breath. “Fuck, I wanna tease you some more, but I can’t—need you too bad, honey,” Ari rasped, squeezing your hip while his other arm wrapped loosely around the front of your throat, so the bulge of his bicep was just beneath your chin.

“Remember, stay quiet.” His hushed words were your only warning before Ari slammed into you, shoving every inch of his hard cock into your wet, needy cunt.

A scream welled up inside your chest, your mouth dropping open as it clawed its way up your throat, but at the last second before it was set free, you managed to bury your face in Ari’s bicep. Your teeth sank into his warm, golden skin and you bit your sugar daddy while you screamed into his arm.

His tortured groan was loud, but only because it poured directly into your ear, the sound dripping in pleasure as your inner walls squeezed his hard cock and made room for the thick length of him in the depths of your body.

Bliss consumed you, the stinging edge of Ari pushing inside you so fast and stretching you so suddenly making your body burn all the hotter. Already, your cunt was pulsing around Ari’s cock like you wanted him to stay buried inside you for a long time and you sighed happily, pulling your teeth from your sugar daddy’s arm.

While Ari gave you a moment to adjust, his hand kneading the plush softness of your hip, you kissed and licked at the indents your teeth had left in his skin. He chuckled, brushing a kiss against your temple, an acceptance of your wordless apology.

“Ready, honey?” Ari asked softly, nuzzling your cheek while he rolled his hips, grinding his cock into you in a way that had you moaning again. “This is gonna be hard and fast. I can’t—I gotta pound your pretty pussy,” he rumbled, his tone almost apologetic with the urgency in it. “Gotta feel you dripping around me, squeezing me, milking me.”

His hand shifted from your hip to slip between your thighs, his fingers finding your slippery clit and rubbing the puffy pearl. He grunted when you clenched around him, his fingers stroking you harder and winding your pleasure higher while he rolled his hips, fucking you in short, sharp thrusts.

“Fuck, honey, fuck,” he bit out, his breaths heavy in between every word. “Tell me you’re ready for me to move.”

“Please, yes, move,” you cried propping your chin on Ari’s bicep while your nails dug into the trunk of the tree in front of you. You used your grip to brace yourself and push back on Ari’s cock, taking him deeper with every thrust. “Need you, daddy, please, please, please,” you babbled, your voice coming out strained with the effort to keep it quiet.

“Fucking right you need me—just like I need you,” Ari growled, pulling his hips back and slamming forward, driving into you with so much force, you could hear the soft sound of your ass slapping against his thighs. “You have the sweetest, tightest pussy I’ve ever had—best fucking pussy in the world. I dream about it when I’m not with you,” he confessed, his words rough like he’d pulled them from the depths of his soul. “Dream about pumping you full of my come until your belly’s bulging with me, honey.”

Your mind reeled at Ari’s confession even as your body sank deeper into his hold. You were still trying to catch up on processing his words but your pussy was clenching around his cock greedily, as if begging for him to come inside you already.

In that moment, a singular truth crystalized in your mind: You’d been deluding yourself into thinking you didn’t care for Ari—that he didn’t care for you. It was very clear that Ari did care about you, and you cared about him.

All those boundaries in your relationship, you realized you’d been the one creating them, not Ari. Ari had been patient, chipping away at the walls you’d built around yourself until he’d somehow found his way in. He’d dreamed about you, and you’d thought he was just another sugar daddy looking to have some fun. You’d been so wrong about him.

At the weight of your realization, you nearly collapsed against the tree, but managed to hold yourself up, sobbing with pleasure and emotion. Ari seemed to sense the shift in your mood and he slowed his movements, as if he was going to stop, but you shook your head, feeling feral with your need for him.

“Please, daddy,” you cried softly, your voice hoarse with the flood of affection filling your heart. It was emphasized by the feeling of Ari inside you, surrounding you, your body cradled in his arms while he fuckd you like he wanted you to never forget the feel of him. “Fill me up, make me your perfect little cumslut, daddy, just keep me—keep me.”

“Always,” he rasped, his lips at your temple. The promise in that single word buried deep in your heart, taking root.

Something changed between you and Ari, and you knew he felt it too because he started fucking you faster than before, his hips snapping harder against your ass so he could push deep into your cunt with every thrust.

“Fuck, honey, ‘m almost there, are you close?” he rasped, his tone desperate.

Your head bobbed in a nod.

“Uh huh, ‘m close, just need a little more…” you trailed off in a whine, trying to push back on his cock and grind your clit against his stroking fingers at the same time.

Thankfully, Ari understood what you were begging for, and he rubbed you harder, his fingers relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure while he rutted into your cunt.

“C’mon, honey, come on daddy’s cock,” he rumbled in your ear, his voice deliciously deep to match his dirty words and push you closer to the edge. “Be a good little cumslut and milk my cock, make me fill your sweet pussy with all my come, honey.”

You buried your face into Ari’s bicep again, your teeth sinking into his skin as you screamed your release. Wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through your body, until your limbs were trembling and your fingers were shaking against the outside of Ari’s arm, having forgotten when you’d let go of the tree to cling to him.

With a grunt, Ari’s cock twitched inside you, reacting to the sting of your bite and the merciless grasping of your inner walls around his hard length. His hips stuttered, then he started fucking into you wildly, his thrusts falling out of rhythm while he chased his own release.

“Good girl, honey, so good, feel so fucking good milking daddy’s cock,” he muttered, cutting off on a deep groan while his cock throbbed inside you.

Ari spilled himself deep in your cunt and you moaned weakly, pulling back from his arm and licking his golden skin to sooth the indents your teeth had left behind. He tasted like salty skin and sweet apples and you hummed in pleasure as you rode out the remainder of your release with your bodies writhing together.

After a few long moments basking in the glorious afterglow of coming together, Ari took a deep breath and shifted his arm, chuckling lowly when you whimpered at the loss of his bicep to lick and kiss. He made it up to you by turning your head and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, pouring all the affection you finally knew he felt for you into the way his mouth moved against yours.

When he pulled away, leaving you slightly breathless, Ari leveled you with a serious look.

“You know you’re special to me, don’t you, honey?” he asked, using the new pet name that you knew was shortened from ‘honeycrisp’.

You’d been too wrapped up in your own head to notice the way it rolled off his tongue—it was an endearment for someone Ari cared about, someone who was special to him, as he said.

Biting your kiss-swollen lower lip, feeling a little abashed that it had taken you so long to realize what Ari felt for you, you nodded. You could feel your cheeks warming, and tried to duck your head, but Ari only chuckled and caught your lips in another kiss, though it was briefer.

When he’d kissed away your anxiety, Ari set about extricating himself from you, pulling free from your body and helping you down from the tree. He quickly stuffed his softening cock back into his pants and then helped smooth your dress back over your hips before doing up his slacks. You turned to him, brushing his hair back from his face and warming at the way he was smiling down at you.

Ari had an infectious grin on his face, and you couldn’t help but return it, your heart feeling warm and cozy in your chest.

The two of you smiled goofily as you helped right each other’s appearances. Once you’d fixed yourselves as much as possible, Ari stooped down to pick up the basket of apples you’d picked, then grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together and planting a kiss on the back of your palm before heading off back to the farm stand.

As you walked past all the crowds of people, you were certain everyone knew what you and Ari had gotten up to in the orchard, but no one stopped or stared or said anything. They were all too focused on their own friends and families and the task of apple picking to notice you and Ari, or your big, silly smiles.

At the farm stand, Ari paid for the apples, then loaded them into his Lexus before helping you into the passenger seat. He dropped a kiss to your forehead, then rounded the front of the car and slid into his own seat.

You were quiet on the drive back to the city, your mind ruminating over the beginning of your relationship with Ari. When you thought back to your first few dates, you realized you’d been the one who was hesitant to answer any personal questions from your sugar daddy—and you’d never asked any of him. You’d also been the one to balk at the idea of either going back to his place or your apartment, leading him to get hotel rooms.

Ari had been the one to respect your boundaries, even as he’d tried to get to know you better. He’d tried to ask you questions you felt comfortable answering—it was how he’d found out you liked apple picking, because you’d chosen it as a fall-themed date. He’d been so careful with you, it made your heart hurt a little that you’d kept him at arm’s length for so long.

Turning from the scenery of the foliage fading into the cityscape of New York, you ran your eyes over Ari’s profile. His expression was easy, relaxed and open, the hint of a smile on his face. You’d thought he just always looked like that, but you realized it was because he was with you.

Reaching across the center console, you scooped up Ari’s hand and laced your fingers through his before settling your joined hands on your thigh. He glanced at you, shooting you a quick smile and squeezing your fingers, before turning back to the road.

By the time the car pulled into the underground parking garage of the high-rise on the Upper West Side where Ari lived, you were resolved to try to let your guard down a little more around him. Ari had shown you he could be trusted with your heart just as much as your body, and you were determined to show him you trusted him with all of you.

Still, it was a little intimidating walking into his apartment for the first time, the anxiety that he was only bringing you there because he wanted something from you—something you didn’t want to give—was a knot in your stomach. But then you looked at Ari and you realized he’d never do that to you. He was bringing you to his home because he wanted to, not because he wanted something from you.

Ari’s penthouse was warm and cozy, decorated in dark brown wood and warm golden tones, with hints of blue that reminded you of the ocean. You realized you knew Ari was a fan of the beach, because so many of the trips he’d taken you on had been close to the water. Walking into his home felt like walking into a reflection of his heart, and you didn’t take that for granted.

After setting down the apples on a table next to the door and stepping out of your shoes, Ari took you on a tour of his apartment, both the upstairs and the downstairs (because it was big enough to have two floors!). He showed you every room, including his bedroom and his study, tugging you into each by your joined hands when you seemed hesitant to enter his spaces.

Ari left the kitchen for last, but the two of you lingered in the living room, standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked Central Park. Ari wrapped his arms around you from behind, swaying you lightly from side to side, almost like you were dancing.

“You have a beautiful home, Ari,” you said, looking out over the city and appreciating the way the buildings and treetops were cast in the warm, yellow glow of afternoon sunshine. An errant thought crossed your mind, that you could get used to the view from Ari’s apartment. It was stunning.

“Thank you, honey,” Ari murmured, dropping a kiss to the base of your throat while his arms squeezed you tighter. He buried his face in your neck, so his words were a little muffled when he said, “I always hoped you’d like it enough to want to come over again and… again.”

You could hear in the pause of his words where he’d stopped himself from saying something different, and you wondered over it. But you knew yourself well enough not to ask. If just walking into his apartment felt like a big step, you knew asking him what he’d meant to say might spook you a bit too much, and you didn’t want that. So you just hummed in response.

Ari chuckled, like he somehow knew it was taking effort for you to be in his apartment, and he thought it was cute how difficult it was for you. His mouth trailed up your neck, effectively distracting you from your thoughts, before nipping at the edge of your jaw.

“Want to see the kitchen now?”

Nodding so eagerly, you nearly head-butted him, you turned in his hold and looked up at him with expectant eyes. Ari gave you an affectionate smile, then grabbed your hand and led the way to the kitchen.

He’d saved it for last, and when you stepped inside, you understood why. A gasp slipped from your lips as you took in the beautiful space. The color scheme of the apartment carried over to the kitchen, with dark brown cabinets and lighter wood countertops. There was a pop of blue in the backsplash, and all kinds of expensive gadgetry.

You were so busy taking everything in, it took you a moment to spot the brand-new stand mixer sitting on the counter in a color that matched the rest of the room. Beside it were some of the ingredients you’d need for the apple crisp cheesecake you’d told Ari you wanted to make and you realized his assistant must’ve already come and gone.

Walking over and running your fingers over the sleek mixer, tears welled up in your eyes. It took effort to blink them away, and you shook your head slightly at yourself. It seemed silly to be crying over a stand mixer, but it felt bigger than that, like it was a sign of Ari making room in his life for you. He wanted you there, he wanted to keep you, like you’d begged him to.

“Everything ok, honey?” Ari asked, coming to stand behind you, but not touching you, giving you some space while you processed everything you’d realized that day.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice thick, no doubt giving away the emotion you were feeling. Before you could overthink it, you spun around and threw your arms around Ari’s shoulders, launching yourself at him for a tight hug. “You bought a mixer,” you stated, as if that was explanation enough.

A soft laugh rumbled in Ari’s chest and he swept a hand down your spine, comforting you while a few tears leaked down your cheeks and into the collar of his denim shirt.

“Well, yeah,” he responded good-naturedly, a smile in his voice. “I did say I wanted you to want to come back, didn’t I?”

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, laughing a little at his comment. Then you murmured, in a small voice, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Ari said, sounding genuine.

For a long moment, you hugged him, and then you pulled away, swiping at your cheeks to clear away any tears or makeup.

“Is the offer still open to bake while wearing only your shirt?” you asked, tipping your head back to smile shyly at Ari while your fingers played with the collar of his button-up.

A grin spread across his face while shrugged out of the denim shirt. Then, to your surprise, he yanked his t-shirt off over his head, asking you which one you wanted.

You took the denim one with fumbling fingers, your eyes raking over his bare chest while warmth bloomed deep in your core. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Ari shirtless, of course, but you never got tired of looking at the expanse of his golden skin, dusted with dark brown hair that you wanted to rake your nails through.

Ari let you look for a moment, using your distraction to help you slip out of your dress. Then he eased your arms into the denim shirt and buttoned it up, his big hands pausing briefly to grope your soft body every few moments.

There was a glimmer of deep satisfaction in his blue eyes when he stepped back to look at you in his shirt.

“Mm, you look so pretty, honey,” he rasped, taking one last look before crowding you into the counter at your back. His gaze darkened as he stared down at you, his grin turning wolfish when he rumbled, “I think I need a snack before you start baking.”

That was your only warning. You shrieked with surprised laughter when Ari hauled you back into the living room and tossed you down on one of his leather couches. Your giggles cut off abruptly in a moan when Ari descended on you, burying his face between your thighs and feasting on you like he was starving.

Your fingers twisted in Ari’s brown hair while he ate your pussy, encouraging you to scream your pleasure in the comfort of his home while he made you come against his mouth. You shattered apart with a loud cry while he fucked you with his tongue, his mouth greedily devouring your release, and the come he’d buried inside you earlier, like he hadn’t eaten in days.

When he finally pulled away, Ari’s beard was soaked in your juices and he grinned up your body while you lay limply on the couch, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. Chuckling at the sight of you sprawled out on his couch, Ari pressed wet kisses to the inside of your thighs, licking the traces of your release from your skin.

“Fuck, honey, I can’t get enough of you,” he rumbled, his big hands kneading your plush thighs and hips, proving his point since it seemed like he couldn’t stop touching you. The blatant need and desire in his voice sent a shiver racing down your spine.

“If you keep going, I won’t have the strength to bake,” you warned him in a breathless voice, managing to lift your head enough to give him a stern look.

Ari laughed into your thigh, pressing one last kiss to your skin before he raised up and gave you a wink. “Can’t have that,” he quipped, grabbing your hands and helping you up off the couch. You stumbled a little, your legs weak from your orgasm, but Ari caught you easily, wrapping his arm around your waist while he led you into the kitchen.

Once you were propped up against the counter near the stand mixer, Ari left to retrieve the apples from the entryway. When he returned, you noticed he carried a pair of slippers that matched the ones he’d put on. Without saying a word, he set them on the floor next to your bare feet and carried on to start washing the fruit in the sink.

You stepped into the slippers, your heart warming when you realized they were a perfect fit. For a long moment, you stared at Ari’s bare shoulders and broad back, wondering how you’d ever kept such a thoughtful man at arm’s length. Well, you decided, once again, you wouldn’t be doing that anymore.

Turning back to the stand mixer and the ingredients, you organized everything on the counter, going to the fridge to pull out everything else you’d need.

To your surprise, you and Ari worked well together in the kitchen. Once he was done cleaning all the apples you’d picked, he asked what he could do next, and you put him to work peeling and coring the fruit while you worked on the other elements of the cheesecake.

When it came time to bake, Ari took the pan from your hands and popped it into the oven while you set a timer. Tension crackled between the two of you after the oven had snapped closed, and you came together in a flurry of limbs. Ari guided you back into the living room while he kissed you, his hands making quick work of removing all your remaining clothes.

You rode Ari to another orgasm while the sweet treat baked, the golden glow of the New York City sunset keeping the apartment awash in warm hues that made you feel cozy—like you were home.

Once you were both sated, you collapsed on top of Ari’s chest, burying your face in his neck and nuzzling into his beard. You inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne, vetiver and leather, with a little bit of cinnamon from baking, and melted against him. You wanted to breathe in nothing but that scent for the rest of your life—and you refused to let that thought scare you.

Ari pulled a flannel blanket off of the back of his couch and wrapped it around you both, your pussy keeping his cock warm while you cuddled together until the timer went off.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched Ari take the baking pan out of the oven wearing only an oven mitt on his hand. You, meanwhile, stood off to the side with the flannel blanket wrapped around your shoulders. He’d told you the blanket was highly flammable and insisted you stay clear of the oven with a stern look that made your insides go all gooey.

The two of you made out in the kitchen and made dinner while the cheesecake cooled. All the while, you kept thinking how easy it was to be with Ari, how you could see what your life would be like together. And you liked how it looked. You liked kissing him whenever you wanted and asking him about what movies he liked and what was the last book he read.

After dinner, you ate a slice of cheesecake together, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Ari’s face, enjoying every little groan and expression of pleasure he made. It was erotic enough that you left the last bite for him, getting to your feet to walk around the table and straddle his lap.

He fucked you to another, blisteringly hot orgasm, and laughed only a little when you fell against his chest with an exhausted, but satisfied, sigh.

In a soft voice, Ari asked if you’d stay the night, and the hope in his tone made your heart warm enough that you ignored the brief flicker of anxiety the question prompted. You shushed the worry inside you and said yes.

Together, you cleaned up the kitchen and then Ari led you upstairs to the bedroom, pausing every few minutes to kiss you, like he wanted to remind himself you were still there.

He gave you some of his clothes to wear to bed and showed you where everything was in his bathroom. You couldn’t help but notice that he had all of your favorite products, and a spare toothbrush for you. You smiled as you got ready for bed and slipped under the covers with him.

“Did you have a good day, honey?” Ari asked, pulling you into his body and wrapping you up in his arms. You were wearing one of his t-shirts—a clean one—while he had on a pair of boxer briefs. You hummed happily when your legs tangled together, enjoying the feel of his warm skin and tickling hair against you.

“Mm, I had the best day, Ari,” you murmured sleepily, the comfort and warmth of his bed making it easy to let your exhaustion creep in. “Kiss,” you said, turning your head and repeating the greeting Ari had given you when he’d picked you up.

Your sugar daddy chuckled, the sound rumbling down your spine and making your heart flutter with delight. Your eyes were already closed, but you could feel his smile when he pressed a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll still be here in the morning,” he promised, his words assuaging a fear you hadn’t realized you’d felt, and you sighed in contentment.

Everything had changed between you and Ari, and you couldn’t help but think it was for the better. You were still a little anxious about opening yourself up to someone, especially a sugar daddy, but Ari had shown you that you could trust him—really trust him, with all your heart—and you were determined to do just that.

“G’night, Ari,” you whispered into the pillow that smelled like him, a hint of a smile in the curve of your mouth as sleep claimed you.

“Good night, honey,” Ari crooned in your ear, his voice gentle and soft and oh so affectionate. “My sweet, sweet honeycrisp.”

#ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #sugar daddy ari levinson #ari levinson one shot #ari levinson imagine #sugar daddy au #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans characters #witchywithwhiskeywork

1K notes · View notes

mccromy · 2 months ago

Text

Thinking of Luo Bingge trying to seduce a nice Shizun for himself and failing miserably.

LBG, used to women throwing themselves at his feet just by being in their proximity, utterly confused as SY won't also fall to his knees and beg to be ravished. He doesn't even have a LBH of his own, LBG checked!!!

SY thinks he's handsome and charming and sooo cool, but also LBG will surely kill him if he steps out of line :) no thanks :). And as he finds himself being subjected to over the top courtship attempts, he thinks LBG must want something from him. info? Treasures? No need for this charade, Junshang, you just need to ask!

One time, they get sex pollened and LBG is like "finally! Now he'll beg me to help him with my magical Heavenly demon cum" and SY will just stab himself until the pain and adrenaline overwhelm the horniness and he bleeds out the poison because 1) he's straight! And more importantly "I would never put Luo Binghe in a situation in which he doesn't have the choice to say no!"

LBG is stumped, heals him quickly with his magical Heavenly demon blood, and remains in a state of shock for a week. Also, for some reason he can't stand the sight of Qin Wanyue anymore.

When he does finally pull that bad bitch, he doesn't get rid of his harem (love alone can't heal this man. He also craves the attention as he craves air) and SY understands it. He had his moment, now is time to vanish into the harem and stay the fuck away from Harem politics.

LBG goes to check his new husband, it's been a week since they had some time together, longer since their wedding night, and the sense of accomplishment remains. (Take that Inferior Luo Binghe! Superior Luo Binghe had bitches AND a nice Shizun!) And tries to seduce him into bed, but SY being SY needs to do a little song and dance before getting plowed and LBG has no clue what's going on.

Why won't he say yes immediately?? What do you mean with "aiyah... I'm a bit occupied"??? You're?? My husband??? Open your legs??? Oh! You need to be seduced more?? Alright, I'll do it.

And he tries to tempt him like he does all his wives, bedroom eyes and a deep voice and soft touches and. It. Won't. Fucking. work.

SY doesn't want coaxing! He doesn't know what he actually wants but for some reason this is not doing anything for him (he wants tears and pouts, something that LBG is too prideful to even think about trying).

After a few more attempts Shen Yuan feels his pussy dry out of frustration and goes:

"You know what, Binghe? Just go ask another wife, I'm not in the mood now." And LBG is like,

"Ah my dear husband is jealous, no need, you, exclusively, may have this lord for the night."

And SY is like, offended, because he is actually a bit jealous but how does LBG dare say that out loud?? How insensitive!! Spare this old man some face!! To be a man jealous of those flowers perfuming your garden is so humiliating!! And SY, petty bitch that he is, raises an eyebrow and says, "Perhaps my lord should visit lady (name of wife #78) she has been more neglected than this husband, so she needs our Lord more than I."

LBG gets forceful in his frustration because he wants DICK and HOLE, not HOLE and HOLE! and SY palm strikes him and sends LBG flying. LBG shakes off the dust and stomps fuming towards wife #78's room. Then, unsatisfied, goes to visit five more wives until the sun rises.

After that SY gets snappish and cold and poor LBG is SO triggered.

SY: *glares at him over his fan*

LBG: this reminds me of something that I do NOT want to think about. No, sir. Don't like how it feels.

What did he do?? Why do even the nice Shizuns reject him?? Is there actually something wrong with him??? No. No, it can be.

He'll show his husband! He's rejecting him, hm? LBG will reject him back!! He'll ignore him!!! See how he likes it! Hmph!! He'll come crawling back.

He doesn't. Shen Yuan takes this as a sign Luo Bingge can't be satisfied by a man and, hurt and angry, just lets him.

And Shen Yuan becomes quite the unfavored "wife" and thus a victim of Harem plotting, and he asks to be sent to another residence, much to Luo Bingge's ire. His request gets denied, and SY, feeling like an unwanted pet whose owner refuses to give away out of a sense of ownership, turns even colder towards Luo Bingge.

LBG is a fucking mess. He tries to make SY jealous, let's himself get caught balls deep in the wife of the week by SY. Flaunts his favoritism for others and makes SY watch. But SY doesn't show any reaction to any of it. And when he does, it's just disappointment.

But he's not disappointed that he isn't the one sitting on LBG's lap (something clear in some other wives faces, who stare at the chosen wife resentfully) he's disappointed in Luo Bingge.

And Luo Bingge can tell the difference.

(Sometimes, Shen Yuan thinks, what's cool in fiction is just... Sad and hurtful in real life.)

Luo Bingge does a 180 and now tries to seduce him by courting him like he did before getting married. But Shen Yuan, unlike the other wives, doesn't just forget and forgive the shit Luo Binghe pulled before. He's not snappish, but quiet, still disappointed, sad. He seems to have fallen out of love. And no matter what Luo Bingge does he can't make him fall in love again.

He's tried everything, no matter what he does he just can't close the breach between them.

Luo Bingge just can't win with this man.

And Shen Yuan has not fallen out of love, he's just realized how petty and sad his husband is. And he doesn't know how to reach him, how to help him. LBG thinks they're playing cat and mouse and doesn't realize he actually hurt SY. And when he finally apologizes, SY remarks that he's apologizing that SY was so hurt over LBG's treatment, and not for giving him said treatment. LBG can't understand the difference.

And SY knows him, knows him better than LBG will ever know. And he says he forgives him, but LBG can't tell if he means it or not.

SY does mean it. Because he understands why LBG did what he did, and although it was not right, LBG didn't know any better now, did he? SY won't take this peace of mind away from him just because LBG didn't meet his expectations.

He's not angry, he just feels pity.

Things become amicable once again, but LBG can tell things have not been swept under the rug. Yet SY is just as sweet as he used to be, but there's something different.

SY's touch is no longer reverent nor feverish, but careful. As if LBG is fragile, and LBG both hates and is addicted to it.

LBG can't read him, can't understand him. So he assumes that SY is planning to betray him and is feeling guilty. Ah, his husband allied himself with someone else while LBG and him were at odds? Perhaps? And now he regrets it? No matter, it has happened before with (name of wives #23, #190 and #304) he can take whatever comes.

Nothing happens.

It's driving LBG crazy.

So he tries to force SY to confess, he engineers a kidnapping or something to force him to sell LBG away to his enemies. To spill a secret, anything! In the end things get out of hand and whoever LBG hired turns against him.

SY realizes what's happening mid kidnap and groans. WHY. WHY DEAR HUSBAND? THIS IS SO TRITE?? He told him he wasn't mad!! Is he really trying to gotcha! Him?? Unbelievable.

Many things happen after that.

SY is forced to drink poison that makes his spiritual energy lethal to demons. And LBG'S human cultivation is sealed, so only his demon side is active. The thing is, the poison can eventually kill whoever drinks it if they don't pass it away, even if they're human, the corrosion turns on them. LBG tries to take the tainted spiritual energy for himself. But SY absorbs it, willing it to kill him quicker, not taking any chances. And calls LBG silly and rash, and LBG realizes SY knows they're in this situation because of him. And bursts out crying.

SY kisses him, tells him he forgives him, and he better believe him this time, huh?

SY dies.

LBG tries to revive him in the holy mausoleum but every time the soul enters SY's body the poison kills him again. The poison kills LBG'S blood mites, too. It has fused with Shen Yuan's cells, a product of him absorbing it, and now his body is unable to live longer than what it takes for Shen Yuan to take a first and last breath.

LBG traps SY's soul inside a locket and carries him everywhere. Touches it constantly to make sure it was there. The gesture both familiar and confusing until he remembers he once had a mother who'd gifted him a pendant that he lost many, many decades ago.

How could he have forgotten it?

After years of desperation, he reads about the sun-moon dew mushroom. And when he goes searching for it, he realizes the realm merger killed off all the sun-moon dew mushroom seeds.

He crumbles.

And only then he finally understands his husband and why their marriage never worked.

Because LBG didn't actually love SY. He was possessive of him, yes, attracted to him. But he did not love him, he just used him to prove that other Luo Binghe he could have it all, an empire, an harem, and a Shen Qingqiu. (Shen Yuan, his name was Shen Yuan. He hated it when Luo Binghe called him Shizun, why did he keep insisting?)

Luo Bingge never loved Shen Yuan.

But Shen Yuan did love him.

He saw him for the beast he was and took him into his arms. Luo Bingge never had to prove himself to Shen Yuan, and no matter how he tried to hide the most shameful parts of him, Shen Yuan could see them clear as day, and loved him all the same.

He held Luo Bingge's flaws like something fragile, he protected them.

He didn't hold them over his head, like Luo Bingge would've done.

He didn't love him in spite of them, like his wives did.

Shen Yuan looked at the cruelest man in the world and, even after being subjected to Luo Bingge's cruelty, kept him close to his heart so the world didn't have the opportunity to make him crueler.

And Luo Bingge killed him.

And in that moment, when he finally was able to under his husband, Luo Bingge falls in love with Shen Yuan.

He came back to his palace and locked himself in his late husband's rooms, became mournful, lost interest in sex and food and bloodshed. Held that precious locket in his hands and wept.

Until one day, he began hearing Shen Yuan's voice. Faintly, as if far away. And then just as clear as if his husband whispered in his ear.

The locket had become cursed by harbouring a human soul for so long. But Shen Yuan never asked anything impossible of him, never tried to hurt him as any other cursed artifact would do.

He'd ask him to sleep, to please eat. To cook, doesn't he love to cook? Why don't you try again? He'd say, "Ah, Binghe, look up! That's a Silver Blood Hummingbird ! Oh, I thought they were extinct, isn't it beautiful?"

And Luo Bingge with only a voice for company, the love of a man he could not touch, would finally find the peace that eluded him his entire life. He'd understand that other inferior Luo Binghe, and he'd abandon his palace, leave his empire in disarray no matter how much Shen Yuan nagged at him to "take responsibility!"

He'd search for creatures and plants that went extinct after he so thoughtlessly united the realms. He'd find some, hidden away in small pockets of space, untouched by his sword. Some still thriving in hidden realms. And he'd hear as his husband excitedly tells him all there's to know about them. He'd cook and set an extra plate, let Shen Yuan guide him until he finally learned to play the guqin, an opportunity he was robbed of many years ago.

And one day, hidden from the world and greedy hands, he'd find a grove filled with thriving sun-moon dew mushrooms.

#this went from haha. what if lbg can't handle a sy sqq? what if he's too high maintenance even for him haha #to haha what if sy died haha #sy: did you just... Binghe did you just pokémon me??? Binghe????? what the hell??????#bingyuan #svsss #luo bingge #shen yuan #mip

2K notes · View notes

jellinuy · 2 months ago

Text

trapezing the line between a good nap and staying awake, laid atop your boyfriend's chest, curled up in his t-shirt with droopy eyes — that was your picture-perfect setting. it's late afternoon, the blue of the sky bleeding into pink and orange giving the living room that oddly-nostalgic ‘early evening’ glow. satoru, pretty ocean eyes focused on the top of your head and the visibility of drool through your slightly-parted lips, rambles on about something — or maybe it's nothing; he loves to hear himself talk. your body is too lead-heavy to care, anyway.

“…’nd you're so pretty," he murmurs against your hair, voice fuzzy, soft kisses punctuating just how much his sweet nothings really meant something. “i don't mean jus’… pretty, i mean like out-of-this-world, baby.” another kiss. “every star in the world could come out all at once” — another kiss — “and none'd be half as gorgeous, 'm so serious.”

he'd only really soften like this when you were asleep and he was sure you couldn't hear him.

“how’d a bastard like me end up with an angel like you, huh?”

satoru would tell you all the things he normally couldn't say when you were conscious — at least, not without hiding it behind some stupid joke or unserious comment or goofy smile.

“i’m so shitty at playin’ it cool,” he chuckled, fingers slipping under your back, tracing his love for you into the skin curled around your spine. “i dunno how you haven’t caught on yet, pretty girl. i’m a fuckin’ mess when it comes to you.”

these were things he could say raw and unfiltered and without having to worry about defacing them with humor and brushing it under the rug. it was easier to tell you while you were asleep. you couldn’t proved he’d ever waxed poetic to you, because, 1.) nobody would ever believe you, and 2.) he’d just blame it on your grogginess and never bring it up again.

you stir at the familiar tingles that shoot up your vertebrae, lashes still resting against the sun-coated apples of your cheeks when you hum, “mm?” so sweetly, because you thought you’d heard him say something. satoru’s body melts into a puddle: “nothin’, baby.” lithe, gentle fingers swirl from your spine, back over your shirt, and across your scalp to lull you back into your nap, hoping you couldn't hear the bass drum that had replaced his heart when you'd woken up.

he kissed your head. drank you in in a way he could never even verbalize if he tried. “nothing,” he repeated. another kiss. “go back to sleep.”

#divs by roseraris #hip hip hooray i'm back !!#ᴊᴇʟʟʏ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇʙᴏᴏᴋ .ᐟೀ #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo jjk #satoru x reader #it’s been a year today since he died n i’m not doing great #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #i figured we might need this #jjk 236

1K notes · View notes

buryustogether · 7 months ago

Text

songbird

the ghoul x f!reader

summary: you used to be a singer in your vault - that skill comes in handy when you least expect it, and least want to use it. but who are you to say no when cooper tells you to sing for him?

wc: 5.7k

warnings: swearing, talk of murder, blood, alcohol, gun violence, sexual tension, smut, fingering, p in v sex, biting, possessive sex, possessive cooper

You had to admit - if you and your companion didn't find shelter soon, one of you was going to drop and the other wouldn't hesitate to feast on what was left.

The deserts of the Wasteland were harsh - you had known that the moment you stepped out of your vault those months ago and you had been faced with nothing but a searing sun, sand that got stuck places it shouldn't have, and creatures and fellow people alike who would risk it all simply for a quick grab at the pack on your back. But it seemed like this past week, God or Satan or whoever the fuck was controlling this shitshow of a world was in a bad mood. The heat was unbearable, even at night when the chilly winds should have weaseled their way beneath your vault suit and cooled your burning skin. Creatures mutated by the long-settled radiation were feeling the anger of the wasteland, as well, charging without warning or provocation. To top off a less than perfect week, your water supply had run out yesterday, and unless the skies opened up and released a storm of rad-infested hail upon your head, you weren't sure you would find any more before you keeled over and kicked it.

Struggling to plant your feet stable in the mounds of sand beneath you as you made your way between the shells of buildings that had once stood tall and proud, you glanced over your shoulder at your companion. Cooper was better adapted for this kind of environment than you were, what with his hardened skin and the wide brim of his hat shielding his face, but even he looked worse for wear. When he picked up his head, seeming to feel your eyes on him, you quickly averted your gaze and set your attention back on moving one foot in front of the other.

"Fuck're you lookin' at?" he said, his voice raspy as he called out through the dry air.

"Nothing," you snipped back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of facing him again. "Just wondering if I'm going to have to carry you the rest of the way, asshole."

The heat was making you both snappy - you hated it.

Your first meeting with Cooper hadn't gone smoothly. Hell, your second or third hadn't, either. You weren't exactly sure when you had fallen into a more comfortable presence around one another, but it sure as shit hadn't happened overnight. You'd been only half a day fresh from your vault when you'd seen him scavenging madly over a mess of bodies he'd dropped where they stood, searching for a number of vials kept in their pockets that he let drip into his open mouth like a fountain of youth. When you had called out a friendly hello to him, he'd nearly shot your brains out. Cooper had taken in your shocked expression - as you'd clearly never seen a ghoul before - as well as the stark blue of your vault suit and the pack over your shoulders, then promptly told you to scoot your ass back around to wherever the hell you had come from. Of course, you hadn't. You'd followed him from a distance, watching as he'd picked his way across the dusty sands until he'd wrangled you with the lasso at his hip, told you to fuck right off, and left you tied to a number of old pipes in the basement of a nearly collapsed building.

A day later, you'd tracked his footprints in the sand to a little settlement, where you hadn't ducked away quick enough to avoid his gaze. He'd threatened to blow your brains out if he caught you following him again. He'd only half-delivered on that promise when, not ten hours later, he'd planted a fist-sized hole in the skull of a raider attempting to cut your throat for the Pip-Boy affixed to your wrist.

From then on, he'd simply chosen to ignore you as you followed behind him like a lost dog, intent on staying with the biggest, baddest wolf in the yard. After a week, he'd tossed you a part of his rations. A week after that, he'd - not too gently - invited you to sit at the campfire with him when he saw you shivering beneath your thin, vault-issued blanket a good few yards away.

Somewhere along the way you'd started to talk. Started to share - at least, you had. Cooper had simply tucked his hat over his eyes and pretended not to listen while you rattled about this and that until he physically couldn't take it anymore and told you to go the fuck to sleep.

These months later, having accompanied him all this time, you didn't hesitate to call him a friend. Maybe something more, if you let the ache between your legs when you looked at him speak for you, but you knew it was a fantasy and nothing more, so you decided to stick with 'friend.'

Back in the present, you swallowed and winced when your throat barked with a bout of pain in response. You didn't think you'd make it another mile, let alone five, which was how far Cooper claimed the nearest town was. Despite the months you'd spent adapting out here to the wastelands, you were still attempting to cope with the hardships that came with it. Vault life wasn't anything like this; there was always water to drink, beds to sleep in. Cool air to bask in when it got just the slightest bit too hot. Of course, you didn't voice these complains to your companion. If you did, you had no doubt he'd tell you to shut the fuck up and deal with it.

Just as you were about to ask if you could take a short break and get away from the harsh sun beating on your back like repeated blows from a red-hot hammer, a gloved hand wrapped around your arm and held you in place. You jerked to a stop, nearly falling back on your ass as Cooper held you where you stood. You prepared a strongly-worded question as to just what he was doing before you followed his gaze downward, to where a small handful of pairs of footprints traveled perpendicular to yours. Together, you tilted your heads to the left where the foreign prints were headed, and it was there you found a small slope leading downward into what may have once been a shopping mall. From where you stood, you were able to see that the glass dome around the center of the mall had been shattered, letting out the gentle sound of music and human hollers.

You exchanged a look with Cooper, each of you sunken from the iron-fisted heat weighing you down, then slid down the sandy slope after him when he took off toward the shopping mall.

If there was one thing you had learned about Cooper since planting yourself at his side and refusing to leave, it was that he valued silence above almost everything else. You, on the other hand, had come from a talkative vault, where gossip reached every end of every chamber only an hour - at max - after anything noteworthy had happened. Your companion had once called you the biggest yap he'd ever heard, and you would have taken it for a compliment had he not told you to shove it a moment after. The two of you had been silent nearly the entire day now, save for a few venomous barks at each other, and you cleared your scratchy throat in an attempt to lighten your shitty moods.

"I used to read about shopping malls in the magazines," you said, leaning your weight backwards as the sandy slope shifted downward. "They had all kinds of stores inside."

"Thanks for the reminder," Cooper bit back, quickening his stride. "Would have fuckin' forgot without you here."

You let your eyes roll into the back of your head as you struggled to catch up to him, your boots digging into the uneven earth beneath you. "When I was a kid, a few of my friends and I would draw pictures of clothes - because, you know, we only had our suits - and then spread them across one of our rooms and pretend to shop. It was stupid, but it we made entertainment where we could."

"Now, was this before you started pretending to be Billie Holliday?"

You gave him a sideways glance. "Who's that?"

Cooper shook his head and took off ahead of you. "Jesus fuckin' Christ."

During one of your, as your companion called them, yap sessions, you had confided in him that your vault valued the arts above anything else. Since you were a child, they had encouraged you to find something you enjoyed, as long as you were able to call yourself an artist. Painting hadn't worked out too well. Writing had been a bust. But then you'd discovered singing - a way in which you were able to express yourself without actually saying how you felt. You could drape the tunes in metaphors and similes, bump the second verse from the first, and when you were done, everyone would get to their feet to applaud as if your songs were the best things they'd ever heard. Cooper hadn't expressed much interest in this, instead taking to calling you a songbird with her wings clipped when he deemed you were at your lowest and needed to be kicked while you were down.

Of course, you hadn't shown him - you would have to be long dead for that - but over the course of the few months you'd known him, you had confided in your notebook carried in your pack all the little things you'd come up with that complimented his persona. How the gold at his heels called for you with each step he took. The way his hands, encased behind leather that creaked, held a smoke so delicately you could have imagined it was you. The rasping curl of his words when he smiled while he spoke and how each word cast a spell that made you want to follow him until the sun exploded and the earth was gone.

Cooper was an enigma you couldn't help but wonder after, and every scrap of himself he tossed to you led you on like a dog on a leash.

The music and echoing sound of laughter from deep inside the shopping mall became louder as the pair of you approached, eyes scanning for snipers on the roof or guards posted at the busted-out windows. There wasn't a person in sight, only mannequins stripped of their clothing hanging out the openings and long-shredded posters clinging to broken glass. Cooper led the way inside, picking a path across the wreckage and rubble stacked haphazardly against the entrance. You felt your pulse tick up when he produced his gun from the worn holster at his side, tapping his trigger finger against the side of the firearm in time with the music winding its way down the wide corridors.

As you followed your companion through the shopping mall, you couldn't help but ogle at the numerous attractions you passed. Shops had been boarded up and torn open again, giving you a glimpse of tattered clothes still on hangers, books tipped over on shelves, pre-war machines behind display cases that were covered in two hundred years' worth of dirt and grime. Gang signs and dirty catchphrases had been spraypainted along the walls and windows in a rainbow of colors. In the center of the long aisle you were wandering, a carousel meant for children sat neglected, still fitted with cartoonish horses who had seen better days than these.

"Did you used to come to these often?" you asked as you stepped across a mannequin missing its head.

"Shut the fuck up for a minute." Cooper raised a hand to pair with his little spat, silencing you from asking any further questions. His tongue darted out between his cracked lips as he placed his steps carefully around shattered glass and wind-up toys that would declare your position to the entire mall. He led you around a few wide corners before coming to a stop behind an old escalator, motioning for you to take cover. You crouched to peer around the other side, pulling your bag strap tighter over your shoulder. You were met with a sight that made your lips part in wonder.

Made up in the center of the mall's large atrium, directly beneath where the glass dome had been broken out, a small encampment of people had established what looked like a tiny town. Tents rested just inside nearby shop windows and winking Christmas lights had been strung above their heads. Lanterns cast shadows along the faces of the camp's locals as they milled back and forth, sharing dinners, reading from books - and dancing. Booming from a solar-powered stereo was a symphony of fiddles and guitars, harmonies of trumpets and clapping in time with the beat. A woman's tinny voice came through the speakers and she reminisced about an old lover who had gotten away. As you watched the people dance and stamp their feet along with the music, you found yourself drumming your fingers along, as well.

You were so engrossed in the music that you nearly missed what Cooper had his watchful eye on; the fridge-sized container with several spigots on its sides marked with a large piece of paper that read 'Clean Water.'

You and Cooper ducked back behind the escalator.

"Bunch of fuckin' idiots," said Cooper as he pulled a red-capped round from his bandolier and loaded it into his gun's chamber. "That shit'll attract every goddamn raider and feral within the mile."

"They're just having fun," you said, unsure of why you felt so defensive of these people you didn't even know. Maybe it was because they reminded you of your fellow vault dwellers back home. There had been a dance or performance like this nearly every night.

Cooper scoffed. "Fun like this gets you killed, little lady."

Your eyes widened as you watched him pull back the hammer of his firearm. "You're not going to just go up there and start shooting, are you?" You knew for a fact that he would. You'd seen him do it before - draw his pistol and start spinning the trigger because a raider or flock of ferals had what he wanted. But this - this was something different. Before he could do anything more, you reached out and grabbed his upper arm in a grasp so tight your knuckles paled. He flashed you a dark, dangerous look from beneath the brim of his hat, but you refused to let go. "Cooper, these people are innocent. They haven't done anything to us."

"Listen here, dollface, and listen well," he said, quickly spinning you around so that your back was pressed against the escalator. He caged you in, his gun hand still in your grasp and his other arm propped against the wall beside your head. You tried your damndest to not flush when you felt his breath on you, when his hips came just inches from pressing up against yours. "If we're goin' to be carryin' on this little arrangement, you need to learn to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut when I tell you to shut it. Now, I know you vaulties think everyone and their mama is goin' to repay that silly kindness of yours, but do not be mistaken. Keep yappin' and I will drink my fill of that there water while I make you watch, and then I'll tip the rest of it onto the floor. You hear me?"

You were at a loss for words, your tongue dry and your knees beginning to feel wobbly from the lack of water and proper rest. Just when you were about to let your eyes fall back down and accept that he was going to clear out the settlement for their water, footsteps echoed past where the two of you stood. Cooper snapped around and raised his pistol, his other arm still caging you in, and aimed down the barrel at a few young men approaching the rest of the locals beneath the glass dome. Instead of yelling, instead of dropping their belongings and begging for their lives while they pissed their pants in the presence of a ghoul, the men waved and smiled friendly grins.

"No need to hide," one said, gesturing the pair of you toward the others. "Y'all are welcome to come and make yourselves cozy. The more the merrier!"

They continued on, greeted by the other locals with shouts of welcome backs and fond hugs, paying no mind to the wide eyes and parted lips of you and your companion. Breaking away from Cooper's little cage he had created with himself and the wall - as much as it pained you to - you peeked back around the escalator. The young men pointed your way, and a number of people waved in kind and beckoned you forward. You found yourself taking a few steps toward the inviting sight of fresh water and the smell of food being cooked over one of the fires when Cooper snagged you by the back of your suit's collar and pulled you back into cover.

"Where on this good green earth you think you're goin'?" he said in a hushed tone, bringing your face close to his with a commanding grip on your jaw. Another flutter of excitement, of blood rush, bubbled to life in the pit of your stomach and began to travel south, but you suppressed the urge to lean into his touch. You didn't pull away, either.

"They invited us," you said, your eyes wandering back over to the light flickering from the lanterns and fires. "It's rude to turn down an invitation."

Cooper harrumphed and released you a little harsher than necessary. "What you've got is a one-way ticket to bein' on tomorrow's menu, sweetheart," he said, tilting his head to follow your gaze and keep eye contact when you looked away. "If you've about had your fill of the real world up here topside, then be my guest. Go and let'em fatten you up. I'll pour one out for 'ya tonight."

Deciding not to wonder if he would actually pour one out for you, if you really meant that much, you scoffed and shook your head. "You know it's okay to let your guard down every once in a while. Smile, maybe? Wave back? No wonder you're so damn bitter, old man."

Cooper stared down at you, and you wondered briefly if he was considering slamming your head into the side of the escalator. Would he drag you away with him, you thought? Or would he leave you for the strangers just around the corner. After what seemed an eternity, he hummed a short little note and nodded his head toward the camp. "You want to play friends, little lady? Go ahead. See how far that gets you before I've got to turn around and put one between the eyes of a man who's not lookin' just for the sake of lookin'."

With the faintest hint of a smile, you blinked up at him. "You'd turn around for me?" you asked in a murmur.

He matched your heated gaze, dark eyes intense and flaring a torch in your belly. "I suppose you'll just have to find out one of these days."

Swallowing thick, you took a breath, then turned and led him toward the little encampment of people. Heads turned as the pair of you approached, and you found that most of them smiled. You waved to those who offered little shakes of their hands, trailed by a ghoul stalking in his own shadow and resting the crook of his palm on his pistol. You were met by a kind-faced woman near the large tank of water, and she was forced to speak loudly to be heard over the sound of the thumping music.

"You folks just get in?" she said, already fixing two bowls of stew from a large pot simmering over a fire.

You broke yourself from the staring match you were having with the pot, the same one Cooper was still stuck in. Although, he may have been watching the chickens that roamed inside a little pen nearby as he licked his lips. "Yes, ma'am," you said over the trill of the woman's singing. You so desperately wished you knew the words so you could sing along. "I hope we're not imposing."

"Not at all!" A bowl of stew was pushed into your hands, and you forced yourself to be polite and not spoon it down your throat immediately. At your side, your companion gave the rim of the bowl a lick with the tip of his tongue before tipping it to slurp up. "We pride ourselves in being an open community. We might be small, but that just means there's more to share." The tin cups of water she handed over didn't last but five seconds before she was refilling them. "Make yourselves comfortable and stay however long you like. All we ask is that you keep your weapons holstered and don't disturb the music."

You and Cooper took seats at a dining table that had been dragged over from the cafeteria, neither of you speaking much as you both wolfed down what was in the bowls in front of you. Both of your spoons went untouched, each electing instead to drink up the strangely-colored meat floating around inside. Cooper finished much faster than you, and shucked off his gloves so that he could dip his scarred finger in to collect what juices were left. When he was finished, the bowl looked as though it hadn't even been used.

Watching him with a small smile, you let up from your own bowl and said, "I'm waiting."

"For what, exactly, little lady?"

"Your apology." You lapped up the rest of your stew before politely setting your bowl inside of his. "You wanted to -" You hesitated and glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one was too close to hear you. "You know." Then you settled a rather self-satisfied smirk over your features. "And look where we are now. So I'd like my apology now."

Cooper sucked on his finger, ensuring he was getting every last morsel of the stew that he could, and your attention was pulled down to where his lips wrapped around his digit. A part of you began to imagine it was yours. He noticed you staring and grinned wide. "And you know what I'm waitin' for, darlin'?"

"What?"

"For you to walk yourself over there and get me seconds."

You rolled your eyes, but nevertheless grabbed your stacked bowls and began to make your way over to where the woman was tending to the pot. "You'd better be thinking about your apology," you called over your shoulder. When you turned back around you nearly collided into someone retreating back to their spot with their own dinner. You jerked to the side, attempting to get out of their way first, and in doing so rammed yourself into the stereo set on a table in the center of the little camp. You watched in horror, bowls clasped to your chest, as the stereo tumbled over the edge of its pedestal and fell to the floor, where it shattered into what must have been hundreds of pieces. The camp became shrouded in a tense, shocked silence as every eye in the mall turned to face you and look upon your sin.

"I..." Your voice carried through the atrium and down the corridors of the shopping mall, sounding like an isolated cry for help. "I'm so sorry. I - I didn't mean to, I really didn't. Here, I might be able to fix it." You bent down to try and gather the pieces with your free hand, and the moment you did, a number of the camp locals drew weapons to aim in your direction.

"Now," came that familiar drawl behind you as you heard a hammer lock into place. "Are we really goin' to be killin' each other over some silly radio?" asked Cooper, and you felt some of your nerves ease slightly when you felt his chest press against your back.

A man to your right hissed. "You killed him!"

You shook your head viciously. "No, no! I - I didn't kill anyone. I'm sorry, I really am."

"You killed Sterry!" a woman accused.

"Sterry?" You looked down at the broken stereo and began to scoop up the bigger pieces you could find. "I - I can fix Sterry, I swear -"

"There's no fixing Sterry," moaned the woman who had served you stew as she sunk into the closest bench, looking as though she were about to faint. "He's dead. And you've killed us all."

You glanced back at Cooper, who wielded both his pistols now, each pointed in a different direction toward locals who had drawn their weapons. He offered a shrouded look that screamed, 'Now, didn't I tell you so, sweetheart?' You took a shuddering breath and faced the woman who had served you. "What do you mean?" you asked.

The woman placed her head in her hand as if she'd already accepted her fate. It was a daunting sight, the face of a woman so cheery and joyful such a short time ago, now deflated as though someone had let out all her air. "This place," she said, gesturing vaguely to the mall around you. "It's infested." The word was so heavy you felt as though you nearly choked on it. "Infested with creatures that will tear us limb from limb now that you've ruined everything. The music! The music was what kept them away, and now that it's gone..."

As if on cue, from the darkness of one of the long-winding corridors straight ahead, there came the bone-rattling sound of a feral hissing and snapping its weathered jaw. A few of the locals scrambled back as the creature emerged from the inky blackness, arms twisted and eyes sunken so far back into its skull they looked like they were forever pointed toward the sky. It took a rushed few steps forward before Cooper's arm rotated and he put a hole between its eyes. The feral dropped to the floor, leaking dark blood that stained the tile floor.

"Stop being so dramatic, Uma," said an older gentleman who stooped at your feet to begin gathering the pieces of Sterry. You immediately dropped to your knees to help. "We've fixed Sterry before, and we'll fix him again. It won't take long. But while we do, we'll need something to drive those creatures off..."

Your stomach dropped when, as you stood to hand over the pieces of the stereo, you felt Cooper's hands - still fitted with his pistols - rest heavily on your shoulders. "Well, then, y'all folks are in luck," he drawled, and you could practically hear the smirk playing his lips as he spoke. "I've got my very own songbird right here. I'd be happy to lend her to 'ya if, say... you filled our flasks from that there tank when the time comes for us to leave."

"Cooper," you hissed through your teeth as you spun around to face him. Singing for your vault was one thing, but singing for a bunch of strangers in the middle of an infested mall while ferals stumbled from the darkness all around you? He may as well have tossed you back out into the wastes. "You are not going to fucking trade me -"

"Done," said the old man as he sat down and began to sort Sterry's pieces. "Have your girl start singing - anything her heart desires. Just long enough for me to fix old Sterry here."

Giving the man a mock salute that didn't quite raise to his brow, Cooper shoved you onto a bench so that you stood over the rest of the camp. From this angle, they were all able to see your petrified expression and your hands shaking at your sides. "You heard the man," your companion said and smacked the back of your knee. "Get to it, songbird."

"Cooper, I can't -"

Before you were able to finish, Cooper turned, his ears pricking at something yours did not pick up, and dropped another feral that had been silently stalking the camp from the other side. A few of the locals yelped in terror, fleeing into shopfronts and tents.

"Sing for me, sweetheart," Cooper said. He sent you a wink, tipped his hat, then unleashed another round of lead into the darkness which only his eyes could penetrate.

You felt as if you were going to vomit. Sweat began to form on the back of your neck as you fisted your hands and swayed slightly where you stood on the bench. Turning your head, you met the eyes of a few camp locals watching you from their hideouts, their expressions filled with fear, anger, anticipation. They were waiting. Expecting. Needing. Attempting to push down the swelling that was beginning to form in your throat, you looked down at Cooper as he emptied his pistols of empty shells before reloading in order to fend off the ferals attacking the camp - the very camp he'd wanted to take out not half an hour ago.

He'd told you to sing for him. So you'd sing. For him, and only him.

Clearing your mouth and opening your lips, you took a breath and forced yourself to sing. "Death will come from where the earth meets the sky." Your voice wobbled slightly, rusty from having not singing since you left your vault. That, along with the fear and dehydration sitting on your tongue. "The sand is scorched beneath his step, the future decided by his eye." As you sang, the miniature explosions banging from the barrels of Cooper's pistols created a short, quick beat you unconsciously began to tap your foot along to. "He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."

Ferals shrieked in response to the gunfire, to the song torn right from your notebook in your pack, and one by one, like stage performers who had practiced this dance a hundred times, they dropped at the feet of the camp.

"Death's got a girl who croons his songs, which is why he never stays for long. He's got to run back to his lady, just as harsh as he, he's coming for you, but he's running back to me." As you sang you realized your voice was getting louder, louder, swelling until it filled the mall's atrium and every corridor far beyond. You tapped your heel along with the rhythm you'd created, closing your eyes and imagining an audience of one; a ghoul with his arms slung out across the chairs beside him and a knowing smirk playing his thin lips. It pulled you forward, pulled forth a song you hadn't realized was already in you. "He might sound mean, but I swear, he's kind. He's just got to peer into these eyes of mine. I'll ride with him, and he'll follow me, leaving behind a trail of blood far as the eye can see. Oh, my baby's got teeth to bite and a gun to blow, see his smoke and soon you'll know. Death ain't my man, he's my right hand. He'll come for you all in the end, you'll never be free... he'll come for you all, but never for me."

You had just been nearing a second verse when, from where it rested before the old man on the table, the stereo jumped back to life and filled the atrium with thrumming, pulsing folk music. It drowned out your voice, silenced you like a gunshot, and the ferals teetering on the edge of the darkness leading to the rest of the mall stumbled back into their hiding places. The camp locals slowly emerged from their hiding places, chattering excitedly about Sterry and his newfound love of life. Feeling a little stupid still standing on the bench, you climbed down and shuffled away toward where you had been originally sitting.

Taking a seat, you rested your forehead on your arms and exhaled a shaky breath. What had you been thinking? Singing a song for the man you'd become hopelessly fascinated with while he was just a few feet away, battling ferals who were intent on tearing out your throat and taking your voice with it? You were such a fucking idiot. You wouldn't be surprised if he told you to never open your mouth again.

Just as promised, your flasks were filled to the brims with fresh water before you went on your way, leaving the mall atrium and the singing, dancing camp locals behind as you picked your way back outside. Neither you nor Cooper said much as you continued your trek to nowhere, leaving a pair of footprints like echoes in your wake. Your cheeks remained flushed long after the mall had disappeared into the horizon, and long after you picked out an abandoned building to set up camp for the night. For once, it wasn't from the heat.

You sat across the lantern and what light it cast from Cooper, who stared into the little beacon as if he were watching the most fascinating flick within its glass. You held your notebook in your lap, thumb marking your place as your tried to write, but nothing would come to mind save for the things you'd sung about today. Mortification stirred like a serpent in your belly, and you briefly considered excusing yourself to get up and throw up outside.

"Let me see that book you've got there."

Your head lifted at Cooper's request - more of a demand - and unconsciously tightened your grip around your notebook. Your notebook - full of songs, melodies, lyrics. The most recent half of which you had written about the ghoul staring at you. "This?" you said, your trembling voice giving way to your nerves. You forced out a chuckle and smacked it shut. "It's nothing worth looking at."

"Why not?" he said, voice rasping lower than the baritone he usually held it at. You swore his gaze was hotter than the sun during the day and the fires at night. "You got more songs 'bout little old me in there?"

Fuck, he knew. Fuck all, he knew. You felt your flush deepen as you pointedly tucked your notebook into the bottom of your pack and flipped the top shut. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," you said, avoiding his eyes. Instead you focused on the fraying tip of your boot. "I wrote that a long time ago. Back in my vault."

"Uh huh." Cooper stared you down for so long you thought that perhaps time had frozen. Then he took a barely-there breath. "Come over here, songbird. Let me get a good look at you."

For a long, long moment, you remained still as you ever had been. What was he saying? Normally the only time he let you close to him was when he invaded your personal space to deliver a shove or to smack your knee or thigh to tell you to get a move on. Your breath hitched when you finally lifted your head and found his gaze boring into yours, heavier than a ton and white hot like a branding iron.

"I ain't goin' to tell you again, pretty girl."

As if he had you on a fucking leash - because you swore he did - you found yourself pitching forward, crawling on your hands and knees toward him. He spread his legs slightly, enough to give you room to fit between them, and hesitantly, so very carefully, you rested yourself against his front. His rough, scarred hands, free of his gloves, came up to rest on the swell of your hips as if they were made to be there, fitting like puzzle pieces against your skin beneath your vault suit. You stared up at him, backlit by the lantern light, and let his thumb drag down your bottom lip until it slipped from his touch.

"Didn't think my songbird had such desire in her," Cooper chuckled, his warm breath fanning across your face.

You relished in the goosebumps that crawled over the planes of your skin. "I... I don't..."

"Oh, you'd be dead wrong if you said that little ditty you sang today wasn't all about desire." He settled back deeper where he sat, giving you more room to settle against him between the columns of his thighs. Your lower belly rested against his crotch, where you felt the hard outline of his cock straining against his trousers. Your heart skipped a beat or three. "If you wanted to ride with death, sweetheart, all you needed to do was ask."

Cooper sealed his lips to yours without word or warning, pulling a surprised little noise from the back of your throat that he swallowed up with fervor. As the initial shock faded, you found your eyes slipping shut and your mouth moving against his, lips opening without fight when his tongue demanded to explore your own. Bracing yourself with one hand against his thigh, you reached up with your other and cradled the back of his head, knocking off his hat in the process.

Swift to get a move on, to feel you against him and swallow up more of your sounds, Cooper easily flipped you around so that you were now lying flat on your back and he was hovering over your prone form. Both tingling excitement and nauseating nerves pulled groans from your lips as he moved to pressing harsh kisses and nips to the column of your neck, licking up red spots that would surely bruise come morning time. He shucked off his duster and abandoned it somewhere behind him, at the same time, by some skill you had no idea anyone possessed, also grasping at the zipper of your vault suit to pull it down as far as it would go.

It didn't take long for you to shimmy out of the suit, leaving you in just your underwear, the seams of which he traced with his calloused finger. It sent a chill running up your spine despite the heat prodding at your skin.

"My songbird sounds real pretty when she's singin'," Cooper muttered as he sucked a bruise into the swell of one breast over the cup of your bra. "I bet she sounds even better screamin' for me."

His hand plunged beneath the waistband of your panties and began to explore your folds, pulling a long, whining moan from your lips. He ate you and your whimpers up, devouring your lips like he wanted to eat you whole - maybe he did - while his middle finger ran up and down your cunt a few times before deftly finding your clit and applying a bit of pressure to the sensitive bud. You cried out. It had been far too long since you'd seen any real action. It didn't take long before your folds were soaked, and he was able to gingerly nudge his finger past the entrance of your pussy. It felt foreign to have another person thrusting their finger in and out of you, building you up to a kind of high you hadn't known since far before you left your vault. In less than a few minutes - something he would surely tease you about later - you felt that familiar coil snap in your stomach and you soaked his hand with a loud, throat-rattling wail that escaped your lips and flew right past his.

Cooper pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk and pulled his hand from your panties, lifting his spread hand to show you to slick you'd coated his digits with. You were only able to huff for breath and watch with hooded eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and used his skillful tongue to lick off your cum. You briefly wondered what else that tongue of his could do, what it would feel like to have him lap up your pussy like it was the only thing to guarantee him his daily hit of medicine.

"Sweet as honey, baby," he cooed, bracing himself with one hand while the other worked on the buckle of his belt. "Well. Maybe Tennessee honey. You ever had a taste of that?" He knew you hadn't. But that didn't stop his smirk from growing in size when you numbly shook your head. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, baby. We'll get you a lick one day. 'Til then..."

Your limbs dancing with pins and needles, you lifted your hips to help him tug off your panties. "I'll just have to settle for what I've got," you exhaled with a hazy smile.

Cooper grinned wide, a smile that bordered on the edge of dark, as he tugged down his trousers just enough for his cock to spring free. He was thick - larger than you'd expected - and his member was rough and scarred like the rest of him. It made you want to feel him all the more. "I'll promise you somethin', darlin," he said as he positioned himself at your entrance and you locked your legs around his waist, heels digging into the edge of his gun belt. "I'm better than anything else you'll taste these days." With that he slid into you, filling you at once to the brim like he just couldn't wait to feel you from the inside. A loud, sharp yelp escaped your lips as your back arched instinctively, curling yourself up into him. He only waited a few moments for you to adjust before he started moving, pulling himself out to the tip before thrusting back inside your welcoming cunt. You were able to feel each and every ridge of him, every scar, and you swore you were getting drunk from just the feeling.

"Fuckin' shit, girl," he groaned, moving to press the flat of his hand to the base of your neck so that he could keep you in place while he fucked you. "Better than I could've fuckin' dreamed."

Cooper's thrusts began to increase in speed, your moans and whimpers accompanied by his low, almost growling snarls he panted against the shell of your ear. You couldn't believe this was happening. You were being fucked by the ghoul you'd been following all these months, the ghoul you'd been watching and studying and falling hopelessly for. And it felt good. It felt so fucking good, a part of you wasn't entirely convinced this entire scenario wasn't a dream concocted by the recesses of your mind.

"God, Coop," you heard yourself moan as your nails dug crescent moons into the fabric of his shirt. "Feels so fucking good..."

"Atta girl," he muttered, moving his head down so that he could suck at the junction where your neck met your shoulder. "Such a sweet little songbird." His grip on your hips tightened as his movements increased even further. "Might just have to fuck you good every night so I can hear you sing for me."

You panted deep as you felt your second orgasm of the night approaching at an alarming rate. Your hips bucked up to meet his with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin filling the abandoned building in which you had taken shelter. "Don't have to - ah! - even ask. I'll sing for you any time, Coop."

Cooper's breaths came shorter, sharper, and it wasn't long before he came with a harsh bite against your shoulder, one that spilled blood into his awaiting mouth and pulled your own orgasm from deep within your depths. You shuddered and cried for him, tugging him close and holding him there for several minutes after your highs had faded and your breaths evened.

Finally, he pulled himself off of you. A short whine escaped you when he slipped from your heat, and he chuckled low before tossing you your panties to slip back on. When you were both covered again, you sat up and crossed your legs as you basked in the afterglow of what had just taken place. Cooper dug around in his saddlebag for a moment before producing his inhaler and drinking up a shot of his medicine, shaking his head against the sudden buzz that came with it as he sat back on his elbows and stared at the lantern light.

"I..." You struggled to find the words so desperately clawing at your chest. "I hope you don't..."

Cooper reached up and pulled your wrist out from under you, causing you to fall back on the ground beside him with an 'umph.' He let his arm cushion your fall before sweeping a few strands of hair from your face and giving you that crooked smirk which made your legs fall numb all over again. "Oh, don't you worry yourself, songbird," he said. "I ain't lettin' you fly away from me any time soon."

#fallout #fallout show #fallout amazon #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard smut #fallout imagines #fallout one shot #fallout smut #the ghoul x y/n #cooper howard x y/n

3K notes · View notes

crushmeeren · 2 months ago

Note

heyy idk if this is where we put requests but by any chance could you do the mha boys reacting to you putting on the pheromone perfume and you smelling hella good possibly resulting in something freaky ( denki, shinsou or bakugo) or anyone is fine🙏🏾

⋆⋅ I love this idea! I did twist this a bit, it’s basically the love potion “amortentia,” from Harry Potter but as a perfume. Why the fuck it’s so hard for me to shorten things down when I write, I have no damn idea. So here, have this. (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.

All characters aged up/18+. ❲ ̽ ⋆ FEM READER ̽ ⋆❳

⋆⋅ Between the ⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ symbols are memories of reader and whichever character!

Thank you @pastelbakugou for helping me figure what to write for Shinsou. ( ˘ ³˘(◡‿◡˶)

⋆ ft. kaminari, shinsou, bakugou, todoroki ⋆

..⃗. master list link

The sickly sweet scent of vanilla ice cream infused with honey is what overwhelms Katsuki’s senses first when he leans in and hugs you in greeting. You squeeze him back just as affectionately and he’s in the middle of nosing at your throat when he’s hurtled back in time through his memories.

⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Katsuki mutters hotly. He’s trying, key word trying, to wipe the sweat covering his phone screen onto his tank top but it fails miserably, seeing as how his shirt is soaked fucking through. He’s more or less just smearing it around and he’s debating on just obliterating the useless piece of shit phone.

He curses whoever the fuck is up there and uses sheer willpower not to tear his hair out from the roots because of this scorching heat wave.

Finally, he’s able to read his latest message from you. It tells him to meet you at the ice cream stand nearby his patrol route on his next break.

Katsuki wipes the back of his forehead with a glove free hand, but it slides right across his sticky skin and then sweat drips into his other eye with a harsh sting and goddammit, he’s royally fucking pissed off now.

For your sake, he swallows his swelling rage and makes his way to you swiftly. The two of you have tried to make it a habit to meet a couple times a week when Katsuki has time during his shifts, he gets so busy that sometimes it gets hard to see each other as often as you’d like.

As always, his heart stutters when he lands a few feet from you. The tension drains from his shoulders even as he witnesses drops of sweat being flung off his jaw from the impact of landing and coloring the light gray pavement darker.

You look so, so pretty in your sundress and Katsuki’s stomach swoops when a sweet smile lights up your features. You reach out a cup of ice cream for him to try, teasing him for looking like he’s just taken a shower but he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and takes a bite of the treat. Katsuki practically moans when cool cream melts on his tongue. He feels infinitely better.

The sun beats down harshly on you both, but it brightens your eyes and the playful way you blow a coy kiss at him when you part ways leaves him with fingers crunching the empty cup and pants that fit a bit too snug. God, he’s disgustingly in love with you.

⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Kat?” Your concerned tone brings him back to the present. Katsuki can’t stand another minute with your clothes on and hauls you up with a rough grip to the backs of your thighs. You yelp in surprise and scramble to hold onto his shoulders as he strides towards your bedroom.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to smell this way, but you’re gonna keep your eyes on me and I’m fuckin’ you until you pass out. Understood?”

How could you ever hope to say no?

When you’re both naked and tangled in the sheets, Katsuki pushes one of your legs to your chest, curls his fingers around your throat, and pushes his forehead against yours as he stretches your tight pussy out completely with his thick cock. He stays true to his word, hand gripping your jaw and forcing your eyes to stay locked with his own ferocious stare when you grit your teeth and cum.

Then he kisses your forehead afterwards when you’re fast asleep.

Muscle memory tilts Shouto’s head to the side as he leans closer to sniff you curiously, an adorable habit that he’s never been able to break when he wants answers to something.

“What is that?”

“What is what, Sho?”

“You smell like the end of a campfire. Why?”

You raise an eyebrow and saunter closer to where he sits at his desk, his office quiet with most heroes currently out of the building. You step around the corner of his desk and hop up on the edge to sit next him, feet kicking gently.

“That’s important to you? A campfire? Huh I would’ve thought you’d smell something like soba,” you comment with a shrug, half smile tugging at your lips.

Now Shouto’s thoroughly confused.

“I don’t understand. Why would you smell of soba? Are you alright?” Shouto sounds as deadpan as usual, if not slightly concerned. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, staring at you as if he could find the answer by checking out your body. It makes you laugh.

Animatedly, you explain to him about the new “perfume,” Mina let you try. Apparently, whoever wears it prompts the object of their affections to smell whatever scent is important/attractive to them. And suddenly Shouto gets it

“Oh, I see,” he says with an understanding nod. He can narrow it down specifically as to why you smell of a campfire on a cold night.

⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Sho, are you sure we can’t just use your quirk to roast these marshmallows? It’s so much faster!” You protest halfheartedly, but you’re already stabbing one of the fluffy sweets with a stick, assembling a second one for Shouto.

“No. This will be more fun, I promise. I watched Touya-nii and the others do this once, it seemed as if they were very happy afterwards.” Shouto flicks his hand and fire shoots towards the pile of sticks, engulfing them until a decent fire roars.

This sobers you considerably, and Shouto sits down next to you, accepting the offering of marshmallow on a stick happily and oblivious to the depressing sentiment he just offered.

So, you roast marshmallows. You tease each other and laugh as you assemble the s’mores and then lean into Shouto’s left side to fend off the chill of the autumn night afterwards. The stars are brighter away from the city and Shouto has always enjoyed the quiet of the countryside. His heart is close to bursting from his chest every time you laugh and he blurts what’s on his mind.

“I love you.”

It comes out of nowhere and Shouto only feels nervous for a few seconds before you return his feelings. Shouto’s dragging you into the tent before you can blink.

⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

In hindsight, at least to Shouto, he understands exactly why you smell like a campfire. With slightly rosy cheeks and a matter of fact tone, he recounts the memory for you and he’s sure his hair’s about to catch fire from the way you’re looking at him.

Without caring to lock the door, the two of you end up reliving part of that memory.

Shouto pushes you until you’re flat on your back on his desk, sliding your pants off and making sure your ass is on the edge of it. He drops to his knees and eats your pussy until your thighs squeeze his head.

And when you beg him to fuck you, he bends you over the desk and presses his cock inside you roughly. The snaps of his hips are frantic, and when there’s a knock at the door, all Shouto does is cover your mouth with one hand and keep going until you’re seeing stars.

“Denki!”

Said blonde whips around at the muffled call of his name. Denki feels his smile aching in the apples of his cheeks as he watches you weave through the crowd of people on the dance floor to get to him. You grin in return and wave warmly, which makes his pulse run overtime.

“Baby!” Denki almost squeals, yanking you in for a crushing hug when you get close enough. “You made it! I thought you got lost,” he says teasingly against your ear and you lean back to laugh and punch him in the arm. You crowd into his space once again so he can hear you but an overpowering and delicious scent of coffee and rain pushes up Denki’s nose.

He startles, head jerking back and brows shooting up. Your expression turns questioning but Denki cuts you off before you can speak.

“Holy shit baby, you smell super good. Like, fucking amazing! What are you wearing? It makes me want to rip your clothes off,” He says enthusiastically, tangling your hands together in the process.

“Oh! It’s this new perfume. Well, technically it’s not a perfume but honestly I didn’t think it would work! I assumed it was a scam.” You give him a run down of how it’s supposed to work and he suddenly comes to the realization of why you smell like coffee and rain of all things that could be important to him.

⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Oww,” Denki whines, sticking his tongue out and fanning it quickly.

“Did you burn your tongue?” You bump his shoulder playfully, taking care not to spill your own coffee. “I told you it would be hot, it’s a latte Denki,” you scold him good naturedly, trying not to laugh. He pouts at you, blowing into the lid in hopes to cool it off.

“Well I didn’t expect it to be the surface temperature of the sun!” Denki protests, gingerly taking another sip and humming in contentment when he finds it’s cooled off enough to be drinkable. You laugh again, but then Denki almost runs into your back when you stop abruptly in front of the glass door exit.

“It’s raining! Shit, I didn’t bring an umbrella. How are we supposed to make it back to the station?”

Denki studies the way it’s pouring cats and dogs, before making a noise of triumph and pointing to a bench under an awning not too far away.

“We can go wait for a bus over there!”

You side eye him. “Fine, but if I spill my coffee, you’re buying me a new one.”

The two of you take off, and in true Denki fashion, he trips and spills his coffee everywhere. By the time you both make it to the awning, you’re both soaked to the bone and breathless from laughing.

“Here,” you offer Denki your coffee with a grin, water dripping from the ends of your hair.

“You don’t have to share baby, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, yeah I do. I love you, Denki.”

Your boyfriend short circuits.

“Dammit Denki! Those were the only two lampposts on this street, now I can’t see anything!”

⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Denki blinks the memory away and spins you, pulling your back flush to his chest. His body is a long, lean line of muscle as he moves your bodies to the beat and murmurs in your ear.

“Let me take you home and show you just how well this perfume works on me, my dick is hard as a fucking rock baby,” Denki giggles, squeezing your hips when you shove your ass back into his pelvis.

The two of you abandon your friends quick enough to race home, stripping carelessly in your living room until Denki can bend you over the armrest of the couch. He guides his cock inside you unhurriedly, pushing until his pelvis is nestled snug to your ass.

A breathy moan escapes him, and then he’s fucking your pussy as if he could never get enough.

He never will.

Hitoshi’s exhausted when he gets home from work late that night. Being an underground hero is rewarding, but it certainly comes with its downfalls.

He closes the front door delicately and toes off his shoes by the door. It doesn’t take long for him to make his way down the hall and into your bedroom, a tiny half smile worming its way into his expression despite his bone aching weariness when he spots you sound asleep in bed. He pauses to stare at you for a moment.

Hitoshi then showers as fast as humanly possible before crawling under the blankets and curling an arm around your waist, tugging you close until he can nose at the back of your neck. You sigh in your sleep and smuggle closer into his embrace.

Hitoshi trails his nose down the side of your neck and he freezes once he gets to your shoulder. You smell….good. Insanely fucking good, and he can’t quite pinpoint the specific scent but it’s soft and warm and maybe even a little musky. It sends warm blood rushing south and his cock twitches with interest.

He wracks his brain and the only thing he can associate with the scent is your cat, Kiko, when she was a kitten and you first brought her home.

⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Hitoshi’s in the middle of playing a game when you return home that day, calling out for him to come to the living room for a second.

“Why?” He yells back. He’s just about to finish this round.

“Just come out here you dick!”

Hitoshi rolls his eyes, but is amused nonetheless by your slightly frustrated tone. He pauses his game and makes his way to where you wait, but stops in his tracks, lips parting in shock and eyes going wide when he sees what you’re holding.

You’re cradling an itty bitty, all black, fluff ball of a kitten in your arms. You grin delightedly at his shocked expression and hold her out almost as if you’re offering her to him.

“You wanted a kitten right? An all black one, like the one you had as a kid at Aizawa’s.”

Hitoshi manages to close his mouth and nod, cautiously reaching out to take the small creature and cradle her to his chest.

He…can’t believe you remembered. You remembered how much his cat had meant to him and went out of your way to find this kitten.

“Thank you,” he says softly, petting the purring kitten’s head with one finger. You step closer and do the same, scratching under her chin until she meows.

“What should we name her?”

“Kiko,” Hitoshi responds with no hesitation, glancing at you for approval and you smile back at him.

“I love it.”

⋆｡ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Hitoshi blinks back to the present, the fond memory lingering at the edges of his mind. He remembers how his heart squeezed against his rib cage in the best kind of way that day and how he knew then he wanted to marry you.

“Baby,” Hitoshi whispers lowly as he kisses your cheek. You stir enough to lazily flip over and hum in question. “I love you, so much.”

“Mm, love you too Hitoshi,” you mumble, sleepy rasp coloring your voice.

Hitoshi bends down to kiss you sweetly, encouraging you to throw a leg over his hips and straddle his waist. He settles you on top of him and wiggles a hand between you to shove his briefs down, cock stiff since he first smelled you, and slides your panties to the side.

Your limbs are still laced and heavy with sleep when Hitoshi helps you sink down on his cock. You melt into his chest, face buried in his throat and arms locked around his neck.

He bends his knees and grips your ass to help you sensually ride him, rocking up into you at a leisurely pace until the warmth finally bubbles over the edge and you cum with a shiver and he follows right behind you.

When he asks you about it the next day, it all clicks into place when you give him the watered down version of how the “perfume” works.

He hums noncommittally before asking you to wear it again.

#bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #kaminari x reader #shinso x reader #bakugou smut #kaminari smut #shinsou smut #todoroki smut #todoroki shouto x reader #shinsou hitoshi #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki x reader #kaminari denki #kaminari denki x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #mha x reader #mha smut

1K notes · View notes

cherryredstars · 3 months ago

Note

Construction worker!Ghost x Teacher!Reader? They're married and every time Ghost comes home he's instantly pussy drunk at the sight of the reader and hurries up finish eating so he can get to 'dessert' and makes sure his lovely wife gets absolutely cock drunk to remember forever like he always does?

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley" x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Oral Sex

Unedited

His back aches.

A common occurrence after lugging around bags of concrete and bricks. There is an uncomfortable knot that always flares between his shoulder blades, and Simon sniffs in discomfort as he shifts his hard hat between his arm and side. He's long decided that if a warm shower doesn't help his muscles let up, he'll ask you for a massage. Maybe he'll even ask for you to use the really expensive, nice smelling lotion you bought as a treat to yourself.

His keys knock together as he opens the front door, the scent of you and homemade food instantly flooding his senses. The house is pleasantly cool, drying the sweat that still clings to his skin from the long day in the summer sun. He can hear whatever you're watching from the entrance as he hangs up his work vest and hat, turning to find you sitting in front of the coffee table. Colorful paper in different shapes is spread out in front of you, no doubt something for your students. You turn at the sound of him entering and you give him that breath-taking smile that still makes his stomach dip.

You get up from your spot, letting him get a clear view of the outfit you wore to work today. It's a pretty little summer dress with splashes of color and a skirt flowing just below your knees. Simon can feel saliva pooling on his tongue as you approach, his fingers twitching. You have to balance on the tips of your toes to reach his face, your hands grabbing his cheeks as your soft lips press against his chapped ones. You smell like glue and the summery perfume you wear to match the season. You pull away far too quickly for his liking, and his hands grab at your waist so you don't go too far.

"I've been waiting for you," You declare, hands planted flat on his paint-stained shirt. "Dinner is on the table."

Simon hums, his thumbs rubbing at your sides through the fabric. He lets you lead him to the table when your hands slide down to capture one of his, tugging him along behind you. He can't help the way his eyes follow the curve of your spine, dipping down to the soft swell of your ass. He licks his lips as he sits down at the table, hungry for something more than a home-cooked meal.

You just look so tempting as you sit across from him, giving him that cute smile before you begin eating. You don't even act surprised when Simon starts devouring his plate, already used to his unending appetite. You're barely halfway done with your food when Simon cleans his plate.

"Do you want seconds?" You ask him, looking up at him.

Your stomach drops when you meet his heated eyes. Something in you stirs, and you have to look away for a moment to avoid being sucked into his hypnotic stare.

"In the mood for dessert," Simon grumbles, leaning back in his chair. You gulp, the meaning of his words hitting you straight in your chest. Still, you decide to play coy.

"We have some cookie dough I can pop into the oven real quick?" You offer, pushing yourself away from the table. "Or I can get us some ice cream if you want something cold."

Simon says nothing as you begin to gather the plates, but he pushes away from the table and follows you inside the kitchen. You can feel the heat of his body searing your back as you place the dishes in the sink, hesitantly turning your head to face him. He towers over you effortlessly, and you gasp when his large hands grab at your hips and turn your body to face him.

He lifts you onto the counter top without a single sign of struggle, the back of your dress becoming wet from small spots of water. Even now you have to turn your head up to look him in the eye, and your mouth slightly gapes as he leans in.

"Craving something else." He finally responds, hands grabbing at your skirt and yanking it up to your waist. You gasp, watching as Simon bends down to inspect his next course.

Your panties already have a darkened patch of arousal, and you make a noise of embarrassment when he presses his nose to it and inhales the sweetly tangy scent of your slick. He pushes further, letting his tongue lap at the spot and groaning as if he could taste the full extent of your drooling cunt. Your hands fly to his hair, the short strands filling your palms as you moan out.

You can feel the bastard smiling against you, his warm breath driving you crazy. One of his hands slips away from your skirt, the fabric draping over your thigh and bunching on the counter as he uses it to move your panties aside. The cool air against your core makes you gasp, but it's quickly replaced with the hot suction of his mouth. His mouth is scolding as he suckles at the tiny bud between your folds, wasting no time in taking his desired fill of you.

He alternates between long sucks and rapid licks, toying with the bundle of nerves before moving to your dripping slit. The tip of his tongue prods at it, not quite penetrating the leaking hole. Simon groans softly against you when you throw your feet over his shoulders, your heel digging into a sore spot in his back. But the pain just heightens his senses, pushing him to finally tongue fuck you.

A string of moans and whines escape your lips, hands tugging at Simon's hair as waves of pleasure fill your stomach. You try to call out his name, attempting to tell him how amazing it feels- how quickly your high is approaching- but it gets lost in the mind numbing pleasure that fogs your brain. You're left shaking when the build up explodes, your body slumping and your hands trying to push Simon's face away. He grunts, fighting you as he laps up the last of your release, savoring the taste as it coats his mouth. He pulls away with one last, harsh suck to your clit, chuckling when you whimper from the sensitivity.

He lets you catch your breath as he stands up, fixing your panties and skirt. Your body is lax and sluggish, and you don't protest when Simon begins to carry you out of the kitchen and to the bathroom. He whispers soft praises into your ear, telling you how well you took his feasting and how pretty you looked while doing it. You smile happily to yourself, tightening your arms around him as best as you can in your sedated state. As Simon carries you, he realizes that the annoying knot in his back has disappeared.

Maybe all he needed was a good taste of his wife's pussy to heal him.

1K notes · View notes

radioactiveparker · 3 months ago

Text

The Boy Next Door - Mechanic!Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader (Smut)

Summary - You make a compromise with your new neighbour that grants him desirable compensation.

Warnings - Strong Language / Voyeurism / Public / Oral (M & F Receiving) / Face Fucking / Deep Throating / Spitting / Slapping / Dacryphilia (?) / Praise Kink / Degradation / Fingering / Cum Eating / Squirting / Multiple Orgasms / Anal (?) / Spanking / Creampie

Word Count - 5.2K

~~~~~

You couldn't stand it anymore.

Another cough of an engine. Another bang on the hood. Another squeak of a wrench. You were gonna lose it. You had been lying in bed for almost an hour, trying to drown out the incessant sounds. You had listened to music on your Walkman, but you couldn't seem to turn it loud enough. You had shut all the windows of your trailer despite the sweltering summer heat and even almost suffocated yourself when covering your ears with your pillow.

Nothing seemed to work.

You had only moved into Hawkins' Forest Hills Trailer Park about a week ago, and this was the fourth night in a row this had occurred. You had yet to meet any of your neighbours, but you knew that there was one that you already couldn't stand. You wondered how the others put up with it, or perhaps they were so used to it that it never bothered them anymore. You had yet to get to that point.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Clank!

Squueeaakk!

Enough was enough. With a frustrated huff, you threw the covers off yourself, leaving you in a not-so-modest tank top and shorts. It was much too warm for anything else this time of year, and you were far too vexed to change. You flung the front door open and stormed your way out of the trailer.

It was still relatively light out. The sun sat low, lighting the western sky in a golden glow, and the daytime moon had risen high above Hawkins, ready to snuff out the sun's tenacious flame. The chill of the impending nighttime air sent shivers along your hot skin, cooling you down from being stuffed in your unventilated bedroom.

Outside the trailer on your left, a handsome man, roughly the same age as you, had his head buried in the engine of a car. He took a step back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and eyed his work so far. His brow creased, and his lip twitch with dissatisfaction. You admired the soft waves of his hair as he raked a hand through it, accidentally pulling some strands loose from its bun. His arms were exposed in his oil-stained wife beater. The ripple of his toned muscles enamoured you as they moved, and you took a fancy to the tattoos that adorned them. His eyes were deep and earthy like potted soil, glistening in the setting sun, making them swirl like pools of honey. The sloping bridge of his nose scrunched with a disgruntled sniff, and his plum bottom lip was tucked between his teeth in concentration. You were captivated by their movement as they soundlessly shaped his words, when suddenly a hand waved at your face.

"Can I help you?" He impatiently repeated for a third time, snapping you out of your trance.

Your mouth bobbed open as you tried to remember why you were out here in the first place. You hated that you had put that furrow across his brow as he waited for your response, itching to get back to work. Your cheeks felt unbearably hot, turning you molten from the top downwards and melting under his gaze. You feared he was far too handsome to stay mad at.

You cleared your throat, "Yeah, could you keep it down, please? I'm trying to sleep."

His eyes softened ever so slightly. "Sorry, sweetheart, I've got a deadline to meet, and I work through the day. It's the only chance I get to work on it." And he went back to work as if that was a good enough answer.

You scoffed, irritation slowly rising again. You told yourself it didn't matter how hot his grease streaked muscles were. "Listen, I've got a job interview tomorrow morning that I'd rather not miss because I overslept."

"Congratulations, I hope it works out for you." There was a strain in his voice as he tightened another bolt, oblivious to the point you were trying to make. You clearly weren't getting anywhere with this guy.

"How about a compromise then? You can keep working but just promise to keep it down?"

He looked up at you over the hood of his car with those big brown eyes that were hard to resist melting for. He raised his eyebrows challengingly before stalking towards you, wringing his hands on an old rag. Your heart quickened, and you refrained from squeezing your thighs together when he licked his pink lips and threw the rag over his wide shoulder. He towered over you, close enough for you to smell his manly musk and see the drops of sweat trickle down the delicious skin of his neck that you so desperately wanted to sink your teeth into.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sweetheart. It's not exactly an easy task to do quietly." He spoke to you, but his eyes not-so-subtly gawked down your shirt (his vantage point giving him a direct view down it), only locking eyes with you when he had finished talking.

You resisted rolling your eyes - men were so easy to read. So you played into it. You arched your back slightly to push out your breasts, the cool breeze perking your nipples through your top, and rested a flirty hand on his bicep.

"Surely you deserve a break?" You stroked a finger down his arm teasingly and batted your lashes at him. "I mean, you said it yourself. You work all through the day, and now you're working all through the night? Even a strong, hard-working man like you needs to have a break sometimes."

His eyes lingered on your pouted lips, just long enough for you to catch him. His eyes darted around with every thought as he considered your proposition before staring at you intently. "If I do this for you, what do I get out of it? I'm gonna need some sort of compensation for the delay I'm gonna have."

You played with the hem of his tank top, tugging it playfully and revealing the defined muscles of his pecks. You were having far too much fun toying with this handsome stranger, and his devilishly good looks only made it that much easier to play your part. Besides, you thought he deserved it after causing you so many sleepless nights.

"I'm sure you can think of a way for me to thank you." You whispered seductively.

"You mean like a..." He looked around cautiously to make sure there was no one to overhear. "A you-know-what?" He whispered.

"A 'you-know-what'?" You laughed at his phrasing. "That all depends."

You spun in the direction of your trailer whipping your hair so he could smell the addictive scent of your shampoo. You swayed your hips as you walked back to your trailer. You were pretty sure that your ass cheeks were showing under your shorts, but that just made you all the more enticing.

"Depends on what?" He called, standing there like a lost puppy.

You skipped up the steps and peeked your head out the door. "On how good a night's sleep I get." You winked and shut the door.

~~~~~

The sun beamed just as brightly as it had the day before, yet you didn't let the sticky, stifling heat ruin your mood. You pranced out of your car, stilettos in one hand, and your most professional blazer draped over your arm in an attempt to cool down.

You practically danced up the steps to your trailer when a voice called out. "Hey! How did the interview go?"

You turned to see your neighbour from last night jogging towards you. He looked every bit as handsome as he had been the night before, only in the heat of the early afternoon sun he had decided to go shirtless. Your eyes shamelessly surveyed his exposed torso. His skin was smooth and glowing golden from working outdoors all day. He had more tattoos decorating his toned muscles that trailed down to his happy tail and v lines. You resisted raking your hands along his chiselled body.

"Great!" You beamed, "they said they were gonna call me back tomorrow."

He nodded. It was nice of him to ask, but you knew he was interested in something else. "And erm, how did you sleep?"

Your mood just got even better. You'd had a semi-decent sleep last night, but with the nerves for your interview, you could hardly keep still. But that didn't really matter to you anymore. The swell of pride from a successful interview was enough to keep your adrenaline charged up.

Despite flirting with your neighbour last night, you'd had no intentions of offering him any 'compensation', even if he had held up his end of the bargain. But after your interview went so ridiculously well, you decided that you deserved a little treat for yourself.

And by little, you meant a 6ft, tall, dark, and handsome treat.

You smirked, stalking towards him, and wrapped your free arm around his neck to pull him down to your level.

"Like a baby." You whispered in his ear.

A dangerous smile spread on his face. He bravely rested his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him. You rested your hand on his chest to steady yourself. He drew himself closer and closer until your lips barely brushed together.

"Do you wanna come inside?" You whispered against his lips before they could touch.

"Oh boy, do I." He replied dreamily.

You tried not to blush at the unintentional double meaning and lead him inside of your trailer.

You were suddenly very embarrassed by the state of your home. While you had all of the basic furniture set out, you had yet to properly decorate, and you still had moving boxes dotted around your home. Luckily, Eddie didn't seem phased by any of this. You doubted he even gave himself a chance to look around because the second he stepped inside, he pounced on you. Your shoes and blazer fell from your hands as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His lips latched onto yours desperately, biting and tonguing you messily with an urgency that left you breathless.

His large hands had no intentions of resting as they raked up and down your body eagerly, already untucking your blouse from your skirt and popping the buttons open. Your hands were hardly any better. You scratched your nails lightly along his pecks and down the deliciously compact muscles woven over his stomach. You felt him all over as if you were applying an imaginary balm over the expanse of his hot flesh. His skin was tacky with sweat from the midday heat, but that didn't stop you from wanting your tongue all over his body.

"What's your name?" You breathed between kisses.

"So you know what to scream later?" He mused, forcing his tongue between your lips.

You moaned around it before pulling away. Your tone sparked with frisky playfulness. "Why else would I ask?"

His laugh rumbled against your lips before he moved back to look at you. His eyes locked onto yours with a dazzling intensity. Your breath stuttered in your throat. His intense beauty overwhelmed you for a moment, and you wondered if the Goddess of Love had carved him herself.

"It's Eddie." He smiled softly. "What's yours?"

"Eddie." You repeated to yourself, testing how the name tasted in your mouth. You liked how it felt on your tongue.

Eddie.

You told him your name, and he smiled like you had handed him his favourite flower.

"Beautiful." He murmured to no one in particular before he latched his mouth onto yours once more.

It was as if you had never taken pause. The intensity of the kiss was just as strong as it had been before, if not stronger. The two of you seemed more desperate somehow, like exploring each others mouths was how you would become akin - tasting each others memories, sucking up stories and lapping up every word from the tips of your tongues.

You pulled away from his kiss as he pushed your blouse off your shoulders and began suckling the salty skin of his neck. You could feel your core swelling at the hitch in his breath. It didn't occur to you how difficult it would be for him to hide your hickeys and you only hoped that he would choose to display your artwork instead.

Your hands continued lower until they stopped at the waistband of his jeans. You reached for his belt, only to find it already unbuckled and his buttons undone. He gave you a smile with far too much amusement for him to feign sheepishness effectively. You managed to wipe that smile off his face, however, as your hand compelled itself to burrow into his boxers. His eyes flashed with surprise at your boldness before they rolled into his skull. You revelled in satisfaction as his face rippled with pleasure. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the weight of him in your hand; thick and heavy, just weeping to be engulfed by any of your tight little holes. With your other hand, you pulled his zipper the rest of the way down to let his jeans fall to his ankles, and you allowed yourself to fall with them.

It was only when you rested on your knees and could see between Eddie's legs that you noticed your front door was still wide open and the two of you were entirely exposed before it. You felt a surge of arousal shoot through your veins. There were no trailers opposite yours, and you looked out directly to the road. There was no one around, however. Nearly the entirety of Hawkins would be at the community pool on a day like this, but that did nothing to dampen the rush of getting caught. You quickly unclasped your bra and threw it to the side. Your nipples perked almost instantly as if testing the waters of how much you could get away with, challenging somebody to drive by - to stop and watch. The exposure had so much slick dribbling onto your panties that you feared for a brief moment that you had wet yourself with excitement. Eager to continue, you forced his boxers down so his fat, throbbing cock sprung in your face.

It was beautifully red and crying pearly tears of desperation that you lapped up hungrily, not wanting a drop to go to waste. Eddie hissed at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure and running his fingers through your hair. He didn't force you on his cock like he wished he could, but instead he brushed your hair from your face, angling your head so you looked up at him through your eyelashes and pulled on your chin to open your mouth. And you did all of this willingly, practically drooling just imagining the sweaty, salty taste of his cock sliding down your throat. You stuck out your tongue eagerly and allowed him to slap the head of his cock on your warm wet muscle. Eddie didn't want to be rough with you. He'd only just met you - he didn't even know if you liked it rough. But there was a fierceness blazing in your eyes, challenging him to do his worst.

And when Eddie couldn't stand anymore of his own self-teasing, he forced his entire length all the way down your throat in one fell swoop, and it welcomed him without hesitation. He released an animalistic groan at the feeling of the fleshy walls constricting around his large shaft with a gag. You sniffed the tears from your eyes when he slid from your throat, a pop reverberating from your trailer walls from the suction of your cheeks. He allowed you a few breaths before snaking his way down your oesophagus and into your lungs. He held himself there before testing a few small thrusts. The force of his hips pushed him impossibly deeper as he stole the air from your chest. You tapped his leg for him to release you but he held the back of your head firmly, forcing his cock to remain sheathed inside your heaving gullet. You could feel the pressure burning your temples as you whined around Eddies length, begging him for air. He pulled you back by your hair, his cock throbbing as he watched you cough and splutter for air, tears rolling down your cheeks and a string of spit running from his cock to your chin. He positioned your head so your face was pointed directly at the ceiling. He hovered above you admiring the enjoyment on your face.

"Open." He demands.

You did as you were told, opening your mouth wide and sticking out your tongue. You expected him to force himself back down your throat, but instead, he violently spat into your mouth. The majority of it landed on your tongue, but a few splashes landed on your cheeks and chin. But that didn't matter when Eddie used the head of his cock to swipe it all up and ram it down your throat. He repeated it a few times, making sure he got it all off your face before prodding the head of his cock into the inside of your cheek. He kept it there and spat on his length, watching it run down his shaft and into your fuckable mouth.

He gave your cheek a few quick taps, moaning as he felt the bulge of his cock through it. He did it again, harder this time, testing how hard you would let him go until he was full on slapping his cock through your face. He loved the heat blooming on your abused cheek, hoping to smack a matching one on your ass soon, and your tears had his eyes rolling back. It was all too much and not enough for him.

He immediately plunged back into you, setting a brutal pace, the blunt head of his cock bruising your throat. You gagged and moaned and cried around his length, but none of it was an attempt to make him stop.

Eddie could feel himself reaching his climax dangerously quickly. The soft walls of your throat were so irresistible that he couldn't help himself but pound into your face. He was moaning wildly and panting heavily. He found himself infatuated by the way the sunlight reflected off the sweat, spit, and tears on your face, glistening like the stones of a babbling brook.

A swift breeze swept in from behind and he moaned at the feeling of it cooling the spit on his hot length. It was only then that he too noticed the door was still wide open.

Dirty fucking girl he thought to himself.

You had been facing the door this whole time and knew it was open, yet made no attempt to confide yourselves in the safety of your home. Holding onto the back of your head, he pulled you towards the door, positioning the two of you so you were side on. The two of you were completely exposed, and there was definitely no question about what the two of you were doing. The thought of getting caught, picturing people gathering and watching in shock, and even people filming on their video cameras were all so arousing to Eddie. His cock throbbed in agreement.

He so desperately wanted someone to walk by.

To see the kind of power he could have.

The new girl in town was a whore for the town freak.

Eddie liked that idea very much.

It was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he forced himself to stop. He removed himself from you, and you gasped for breath. His hand gently cupped your cheek, brushing the tears from your face with a glaze of adoration over his irises.

"You're fucking incredible." He praised. "Such a good fucking girl. How lucky am I to of found someone like you."

His praises had your juices dripping on the floor, integrating with the other fluids that dripped from your face. You smiled drunkenly at his words, and your chest warmed with pride.

"Stand up for me, sweetheart." Eddie held out a hand to help you up.

You stood on two shaky legs, already feeling the bruises forming on your knees. When you raised to your full height, Eddie immediately pushed his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue.

"I know how much you want me to cum down that pretty little throat of yours, baby, but I just gotta be inside you."

You moaned a sigh, your cunt already clenching in anticipation.

"You're such a dirty girl aren't you sweetheart? Just look at how desperate you are for my cock. You want me to fill you up? Pump you full of my cum?"

"Yes." You whimpered, throat raw and hoarse.

He turned you around, pressing you against the door frame so half the length of your body leaned outside. You couldn't help the jolt of anxiety that struck you in the chest. As Eddie pushed his front to your back, you couldn't help but take a glance at your surroundings to make sure nobody was there.

"Let them see."

"Huh?"

"It doesn't matter if there's people. Let them see. Let them see this perfect fucking body. Let them wish it was them fucking this sweet little cunt instead of me."

You could have came from his vulgar words alone. You nodded obediently and let him bunch your skirt up around your waist. Eddie released a devilish laugh at the juices running down your legs. His fingers toyed with your clothed folds, spreading the slick along the damp material and gliding effortlessly over your aching clit. You moaned at the relief but quickly drew a hand over your mouth to muffle it.

"Ah, ah, ah." Eddie tutted, forcefully gripping both of your wrists and pinning your arms behind your back. He was able to hold both wrists in one of his large hands whilst he used the other to tug your panties around your ankles.

Without warning, he plunged two long fingers into your tight heat, stretching you wide with his thick fingers. You whimpered at the sensation. You could only imagine what his cock would feel like. You could feel it now, in fact, burning red hot against the supple cheek of your ass.

His fingers moved frustratingly slow in and out of your aching hole, curling them when it reached his knuckles. Your juices squelched out of you with every breach and dripped down his forearm. After a few minutes of pleasureful torture, he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on them hungrily.

"Fuck, I gotta have a taste of that." He whispered to himself, and squatted down so his face was level with your dripping cunt.

He still had one hand holding your wrists to the small of your back, but his other hand pulled at your thigh, encouraging you to take a step back so you could bend over more. As you did, you found yourself spreading your legs wider too, letting him see how your gaping pussy winked at him with every clench. Your pussy glistened just as beautifully as your face had when it was caked in tears and spit, only your pussy cried to be absolutely assaulted by his cock. And he would give that to you eventually.

But not right now.

Instead, he used two fingers to spread your folds apart and gently peek your clit out from under its hood. That feeling alone was enough to make your legs start trembling again. So when he licked a powerful stripe over you, you just lost it completely.

His mouth practically molested your pulsing cunt. He tongued messily over your clit, nibbled at your folds and plunged his tongue as far into your pathetic hole as he could. His nose prodded at your asshole with every swipe of his tongue, causing you to push your hips back into him.

"Eddie, please." You begged him to relent - to just fuck you senseless.

"Oh no sweetheart, not until you cum on my tongue. Be a good girl, and let me taste you."

And with that he suckled onto your clit like a calf at its mother's teet. He was harsh and sedulous, in a single-minded frenzy for you to grant him a taste of your sweet elixir straight from the source. You grant him that wish gladly, feeling it trickle from you in a steady stream following each clench of your orgasming cunt.

Eddie drank it all up eagerly, slurping your pussy to get every last drop out of you. His eyes sparkled with both amusement and desire. He had slept around with a handful of women, true. But he had never seen a woman squirt before.

He was addicted already.

He felt it had become his life's purpose to watch you squirt for him over and over again until there was nothing left inside of you.

His cock was practically purple at this point, and it dribbled lazily onto the floor. He needed to feel you spasming on his cock, drenching his length with your squirt.

You were too high to be embarrassed about how quickly he had made you cum. He barely gave you time to recover from your orgasm before he forced his cock to fit inside of your quivering cunt. You weren't trying to resist, his cock was just simply too big.

And he was hardly halfway in.

You cried at the stretch, moans slipping in between sobs. At the sound, Eddie couldn't resist anymore. He spat harshly where your bodies met before using your arms to force you backwards onto his full length. A sudden sharp pain bolted through your core, and you released a strangled cry. But he did not stop.

Your cries spurred him on, and he drove himself harder and faster into you. His breath was a ragged growl in your ear as he bent his body over yours. He bit and sucked on your neck and shoulders with a severity that delighted you. There was no tenderness in any of his actions. He was a ravenous animal feasting on your flesh, doing with your body as he pleased.

But you did not want him to be gentle.

Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop.

You would tell him if you could, but the pain had snatched away your voice. In the beginning, it blazed like a fire, burning up any innocence that was left within you. Until pleasure snuffed out that raging flame. Instead, the embers glowed hotly deep in your core.

You moaned wildly like a whore at every harsh thrust. If, for some reason, any of your neighbours were sat indoors, they would undoubtedly be able to hear what was going on. That only egged you to moan louder. Eddies name rolled repeatedly from your lips with only gasps and grunts between each one. Eddie loved that the entire trailer park could hear you screaming his name. He hoped his annoying neighbour Travis, who had come to Eddie earlier in the day, boasting about how he was gonna ask the hot new chick out, was sat weeping pathetically as he jerked off to you moaning another man's name.

"Oh fuck baby."

"That feels so good, baby."

"Baby, I'm so close."

"Nuh hun, you know what my name is, sweetheart. Say it."

Every stroke pushed the breath from your lungs, expelling the air from you in arousing moans.

"Say it." He slaps a demanding hand to the cheek of your ass.

He pounded harder, only making it more difficult for you. The best you could do was a pathetic whimper. He slapped your ass again before yanking your head backwards by your hair until your body released from the doorframe, and he was the only thing holding you up.

His lips pressed to your ear. "Be a good girl and say it."

Your mouth hung open, eyes squeezed shut tight in pleasure as you panted wildly. He released your arms from your back and used his thumb to gather your creamy spend that had ringed around his cock as he thrusted. He circled your tight asshole with a light pressure before forcing it inside. It sucked him in gladly and he moaned loudly as he felt himself thrusting inside of you.

"Fuck Eddie!"

"That's it, sweetheart. That's my good girl. Say it again."

Your legs shook violently beneath you, causing Eddie to wrap his other arm around you to keep you up right. His hips never faulterd once, clapping loudly against your ass. Your head was spinning from feeling completely filled to the brim.

"Fuck! Eddie!"

Your pleasure was swelling deeply within you, expanding like a balloon seconds away from bursting. Eddie could feel both of your holes struggling to tighten around him as you orgasm tietered on the precipice.

"C'mon sweetheart, be a good girl and soak my cock."

His words send you over the edge. Your eyes rolled so far back into your skull that you wondered for a moment whether you had just blacked out from pure ecstacy. Eddies hips remained ferocious as your walls milked him for all he's worth. The feeling of you spasming around him, your squirt soaking his cock, splashing everywhere with each thrust and running down his legs was enough to have him shoot his thick load deep inside of you.

"Eddie!" You moaned at the feeling, somehow feeling fuller than ever.

"What was that?" A voice called from the distance.

Approaching footsteps caused you to rush in a flurry of panic as you pushed Eddie inside and slammed the door shut, leaving the stranger to wonder whether they had missed the rain seeing the puddle on your doorstep.

The two of you tumbled to the floor, Eddie groaning as you landed on top of him. You were surprised to see his cock was still shooting a thick rope of cum onto his stomach. You quickly scrambled on top of him, sinking back down onto his sensitive length to allow him to finish completely inside of you. He hissed as your wall stroked him to the end, loving the view of your shimmering naked body above him. He held you there as his cock softened, tracing his fingers along every curve and crease along your body as if trying to commit them to memory.

"Are you okay?"

Your heart swelled at the concern dripping from his lips. You smiled at him softly. "Never better."

There was a pause as the two of you relished in each others company, taking the time to admire one another.

"I'm sorry, by the way." Eddie broke the silence, staring deeply into your eyes.

You tilted your head in confusion, taking his hand in yours, worried that he thought he might have hurt you. "What for?"

"For keeping you up last night." He smiled sheepishly. "No one's ever really complained, so I didn't think it was a big deal."

You couldn't help but giggle. "It's okay, Eddie. I'll let you off on one condition."

He laughed in amusement. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"You take me on a date."

"Well, I would be much of a gentlemen if I didn't take a lady on a date after fucking her brains out, would I?"

~~~~~

Taglist:

@mdurdenpitt @wheel-of-hyperfixation @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @arlxt

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie stranger things #mechanic!eddie #mechanic!eddie munson

1K notes · View notes