#I fucking love this guy and the situations I’ve put him in

[blood-injections]

what are some of your favourite fun ghoul hcs :P

He’s an amputee! He lost his leg below the knee when he was pretty new to the zones, he had a bad injury that got infected and they had to amputate so that the infection wouldn’t spread. It’s long healed but he has a regular prosthetic leg instead of a cybernetic one since you can only really get robotic prosthetics in the city, and you could make one but it’s hard to find the tech to, let along someone to attach it in the zones. Since he has a regular prosthetic, even though his leg has healed, he deals with a lot of pain and soreness from hotspots, strain, rashes, etc. you get a lot of sores when you wear a prosthetic because it rubs in certain spots and if you’re sweating in it especially, your skin gets itchy and raw inside. And since he’s a killjoy running around the fuming desert with it all day, he’s usually always sore

He has a cane and crutches for days he’s extra sore and can’t put as much weight on his leg or cant wear his prosthetic becuase of sores

He’s hard of hearing from too many bombs going off in his face, he knows sign language and since Kobra’s often nonverbal it’s the main way they communicate

He's got the Tism.

He’s not zoneborn but everyone thinks he is because he doesn't talk about the city and doesn't really act cityborn, plus he got to the zones at a fairly young age.

He grew up on the streets and was raised by a group of droids that kept him safe. He grew up learning to work on droids and it's one of the reasons he’s so good at making bombs now, he just Knows tech. The droids he knew wasted away as he got older, he couldn't repair everything and when their batteries started to die theyd always get taken away bli, to presumably be fixed or recycled. But he never saw any of them again.

He left Battery City on his own when he was eleven, one day he was at the landfill looking for scrap when he saw the face of one of the droids that raised him twisted in the trash heaps, he felt horrified that his family ended up as nothing more than garbage and so he ran and never looked back

Since he was raised by droids he still sympathizes with them and sees them as people whereas most citizens of Bat City and even some killjoys don't. He also fully believes in Destroya like the androids do.

He's agender and transmasc, he/it pronouns and sometimes just straight up none, he'll be like refer to me with my name and nothing else.

Pyromaniac

Tends to bottle up all his emotions but anger, anger and fear he wears on his sleeve. But nobody knows when he's suffering, lonely or depressed or anxious, you have to really Know him to tell, and then you have to bully the truth out of him

Has never cut his hair since he got to the desert, it's currently down to his waist and always has shit tangled in it but the others love brushing it out and braiding it

Hes just super spiritual he loves the desert and feels connected to it and believes in Destroya and the Phoenix Witch, the Witch he actually met when he had a near death experience

Can’t drive a car for shit, don’t let him anywhere near the wheel he will somehow crash it before it even starts. Not bad with a motorcycle though, not nearly as good as Kobra but he can do a couple cool things and manage not to crash

Fights as an outlet for pent up feelings and energy, used to get hurt doing it and put himself in danger for the adrenaline but now that he’s with the Fab Four and Kobra has the same issue, they fight each other and it’s a lot safer, plus fun and they usually end up making out about it.

Will just fucking pick up a bug and eat it raw. Everyone hates it.

Bites

[lgbtiwtv]

one thing about me is that I will enjoy the vampire chronicles’ fucked up little character dynamics

[exopelagic]

fuck R <3

[artdcnaldson]

NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit

This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other

A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)

“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”

Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.

Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.

“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.

“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”

“How?” Patrick asked.

Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”

Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.

With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.

“What?” You asked with a frown.

“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”

You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.

His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.

The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.

Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.

Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”

You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.

“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.

Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.

And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.

Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.

You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”

“Good,” Patrick said.

At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”

Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.

“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.

Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”

You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.

He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”

You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.

“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”

Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.

Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.

Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.

You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.

“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”

You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.

He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”

Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”

You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.

“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”

Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.

He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.

And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.

And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”

Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.

Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.

“Fuck— switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”

He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.

Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.

Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.

Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.

“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.

“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.

They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”

[joelsgoldrush]

“GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE” | 10k

logan howlett x fem!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ fluff, angst, drinking, dirty talk, slow-burnish, age-gap (reader is 25), once again wade saves the day, domestic!logan, soft dom!logan, logan calls reader “kid”, they watch (500) days of summer, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, thigh riding, thumb sucking, throat fucking, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[tohokuu]

there’s only one bed left - tengen, akaza, rengoku, giyuu

REBLOG MY WORK.

warnings : suggestive, fluff, smut in giyuu’s

a/n : they’re so cute and fluffy i love and omg k want this to happen to me so bad. also, can you guys tell i love akaza???

TENGEN

you and your current boyfriend had offered to take you on a vacation to turkey. you agreed, happily ready to see the mountains and planes of turkey. upon arrival at the hotel, tengen took both of your suitcases, handing them to the bus boy that was at the door to carry your luggage for you.

“tengen, i could’ve held it.” you insisted. he shook his head. “it’s not very flashy.”

you raised an eyebrow, sighing and giving up because there was never any good reason to argue with him and win.

you two walked up to the reception, a kind old man standing behind the counter.

“a reservation for uzui tengen, please.” tengen crooned. his body seemed giddy and the hair on his arms rose. maybe he was cold?

the bus boy carried your luggage onto a cart. you felt bad for him. no one was helping him and he was pushing a card with a total of 12 suitcases with him. he couldn’t see ahead of him but neither tengen helped him, nor did he allow you to.

you pursed your lips, hoping the awkward silence would pass by quickly in the elevator.

at the ding of the elevator, you all stepped out and tengen was gracious enough to carry 4 suitcases on his own, not even breaking a sweat.

his work out routine was rough.

upon arrival, you looked into the large spacious king suite. two beds settled into each side of the room, 5 feet of space between both of them.

tengen walked through the threshold in shock. the smile on his face replaced with a shocked and confused expression.

he threw his arms out forward, bending and looking at the two beds.

“what the fuck!? i asked for one bed!”

AKAZA

“there’s only one room left and it’s got a single queen sized bed.” the receptionist said as she looked up at you and akaza.

you and him turned to look into each others eyes, dumbfounded expressions on your face.

“uhm… are you sure there aren’t any more?” he asked her. she shook her head. “i’ve checked twice, sir. this is the only room available. there will be more later tomorrow.”

you observed your situation. would you drive through the pouring snow for another hour for the next hotel, or sleep in your car and risk freezing to death?

what could you do? because you’d rather sleep on the edge of a volcano than sleep in the same bed as akaza.

not that you hated him or anything. it was his sheer attractiveness that pulled you in. he was so handsome and so sweet and respectful, but he was also strong and kind.

there was nothing to dislike and that’s exactly what bothered you. you liked him.

so how could you be able to handle sleeping with him??

“does the room come with a couch?” he asked. the receptionist shook her head.

“i’m afraid not, sir. there’s only one room available with one bed.”

akaza sighed and looked at you. “we can stay if you’d like, or i can go find a different hotel .” he quickly offered. you shook your head.

“it’s too cold, akaza. just stay here, we’ll figure it out.”

-

just like that, you two are forced to be in close proximity together. akaza had tried to take the floor but the cold marble was freezing and you’d rather not make him suffer through that.

so your next option was to sleep together with pillows put in between you two as a barrier.

the silence was awkward.

there was so much tension, it could have been cut with a knife. sleep wouldn’t come easy either, you were too stressed … and a little bit hot.

“akaza, it’s hot in here.” you whined. he sighed, knowing it was because the hotel had racked the heater up so high and the pillows and blankets you used to separate yourselves wasn’t helping.

“let’s get rid of the pillows, then.” there was hesitation in his voice. he wasn’t completely sure if you’d be okay with taking the pillows down. you sighed, thinking with your cunt instead.

“it’s perfectly fine.” you smiled, leaning back on your elbows as you stared at him from across your little wall.

the pillows were thrown on to the floor by the both of you in a comical manner. you pushed the comforter down a bit, revealing your tiny shorts and crop top.

this felt a lot better.

but akaza warmed up. he realized how close to naked you were lying next to him on this big bed. what was to stop him if he wanted you?

his brain, of course.

“can we cuddle?” he asked. his voice was filled with that same hesitation from earlier. you turned your head to look at him.

“what?” you asked.

even in the moonlight, you could see the redness of his cheeks and the way his long lashes fluttered over his blue eyes.

“nothing, i-… i just-“

your wave of confidence washed over you as you turned towards him, hooking one leg over his waist and wrapping your arms around his neck.

his body was frigid. he didn’t know what to do. your own was excruciatingly hot because how on earth did you manage to do this?

a moment of silence and pure awkwardness passed by until his arms wrapped around you, a little bit tighter as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“you smell good.” you two whispered at the same time. a laugh booming into the air as you realized your mistake. he laughed too, eyes shutting closed while peacocks formed at the corner of his eyes.

he looked back at you, smiling in content in this position he got himself in.

a hand trailed up your neck and as if the world has slowed down and the wind had began to blow, you felt the searing touch of akaza’s lips slot against yours.

you whimpered into his mouth, kissing back with just as much passion. he held onto your face he tenderly, cradling it as though you might break.

“i like you.” he whispered against your lips.

“i like you more.”

RENGOKU

“rengokuuuu!!” you wailed. he turned to look at you, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

“what happened, y/n?” the orange haired male asked.

you pouted, explaining to him that there was only one cabin left and the cabin only had one bed. rengoku smiled as if there were no issues. “that’s quite alright. i can take the couch!”

you shook your head. “no, absolutely not. i’d feel terrible.” the smile never faltered from his face. he was an endless ray of sunshine that kept you warm for days.

“don’t worry, my dear y/n. we’ll figure it out. don’t worry.”

-

you wondered how he’d ended up in your bed. he was shirtless, hair sprawled out messily on the pillowcase and his abs were on full display.

you lay against him, his arm pulling you over his chest. then you looked down…

‘why am i fucking naked??’

rengoku was also naked… does that mean you two?..

you looked in the corner at the empty bottle of whiskey. your face felt impossibly hot but a wet feeling erupted in between your legs at the idea of rengoku being the one to pleasure you.

still, you sat there in shock. how could you have spent a night with rengoku and not even remember it?! this was absolutely atrocious.

“good morning, my flower.” a voice interrupted your thoughts. it was deep, coming from the broad chest of the man you slept with last night.

“g-good morning, rengoku…” you replied, swallowing an awkward lump in your throat.

“rengoku, did we… did we fuck last night?” you asked him sheepishly, holding the bed spread tightly to your chest. he looked confused, still half asleep.

he peered one eye open, looking to check if he was nude.

he was.

with that, he shot up. a blush enflamed his cheeks. what the fuck..he thought.

“n-no.. i didn’t just fuck you for the first time and not remember it.” he whined, worry deeply set in his voice. you calmed him down, rubbing a soft hand up and down his chest.

“we have many more opportunities to make love again.” you reasoned. you had been with the man for just a few months, wanting to take it slow and surely not sleep with each other until you were both ready but this… this was quite different than what you planned.

“i know, but angel, this was the first time.” he whined softly.

you pulled his head onto your chest. running your fingers through his hair, trying to get him to stop being mean to himself.

“it’s okay, baby.” you cooed. “we have all the time in the world, don’t worry.”

“well in that case…you wanna go round 2 right now?”

GIYUU

“there’s only one room left, sir.” the receptionist called out. giyuu sighed. “we’ll take that one.” he didn’t give you much of a choice. dragging your luggage and his with him up the elevator, he hadn’t said a word.

you figured he was already quite annoyed about the pompous amount of rain outside. you two were traveling for a meeting and the rain had delayed both of you. it bothered him endlessly that he was going to miss such an important meeting.

you chose not to speak, not wanting to irritate the quiet male.

he set down your luggage on the side, next to the bed. his clothes came off next. jacket, sweater and a black tank top that he chose to leave on. he took off his jeans, lounging around in plain black boxers.

“take the bed. i’ll be fine on the couch.” he grumbled. you nodded, heading to the bathroom to change into something more comfortable to sleep in.

-

you walked back out in a large t shirt and panties. you figured it didn’t matter much because your t shirt was so big that it reached the middle of your thigh, anyway.

but giyuu saw. he was turned towards you when you reached down to put your phone on charging, your ass on clear display for him.

he breathed sharply through his nose. it was simply a bad idea to even have turned facing your direction. he felt his dick semi-hard.

turning around, he ignored it, choosing peace instead.

it was later that night that something woke him up. was it the rush of heavy rain? the hotel telephone? or … heavy breathing coming from your side of the room.

he quietly listened, steadying his own breathing.

his eyes widened as he heard everything that fell from your lips, dick straining against his boxers.

fuck.

you were touching yourself… to the thought of him.

the mewls were hushed, doing your best to keep quiet. the air was hot and heavy and when he slowly peeked to look over, he saw you with your legs spread. they stretched far apart as your pretty pussy was on display. he could hear how wet you were, fingers sloshing around in the mess inside of you.

“g-giyuu…” you breathed heavily. he couldn’t help but trail his own hand to his cock, rubbing it uncomfortably against the palm of his large hands.

“f-feels so good.” you whined softly.

he could only imagine. he could think of 10 different ways that he could make you cum. 10 different ways to make you go stupid and crying for him and his cock.

he rutted against his palm harder, trying to keep the grunts of pleasure in. he was so close to his orgasm, just needed a bit more, and you gave it to him.

“ ‘m gonna cum so hard,, g-giyuu..” you cried softly, the tears in your voice apparent.

then what giyuu got up, trailing his way to your bed. he pulled the covers farther down, revealing your calves.

your eyes shot open as you stopped, the pleasure long gone.

“g-giyuu, this isn’t what it looks like- i swear!” you shouted.

he put a hand over your mouth.

“shut up, i’ll take care of you now.”

REBLOG MY WORK.

taglist form.

©️ tohokuu. do not steal or plagiarize.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Logan being jealous of Wade while being a throuple

Description: Logan is jealous even though he and Wade agreed to share Y/N

Author’s note: I’ve had a lot of requests about these two together

Requests: Please do more deadpool and wolverine fanfics. Like them together yk what I mean cuz holy damn what Tag Team good.

Logan is a jealous guy. So sharing Y/N with Wade wasn’t so easy at first. 

He truly never saw himself in this situation but she wouldn’t choose and wanted both. 

Greedy, He thought but went along with it nonetheless. 

He held back a growl anytime Wade pulled Y/N in his lap and especially anytime his hand traveled up her thigh.

Logan wanted her to himself and that was the issue.

She had to cuddle with him before Wade and even after that he would glare at Wade as they spooned. 

Together? He was okay with it. Not his favorite thing in the world but better than her just cuddling with Wade 

Wade would provoke his jealousy anytime he got the chance too. 

Wade found it funny that Logan was mad and jealous of him touching THEIR girlfriend.

Wade wasn’t the jealous type and even encouraged them to make out or fuck in front of him. 

He was a freak. 

Y/N hadn’t caught onto Logan’s jealousy at first. 

It was Wade who made it obvious to her after she had convinced them for a threesome 

Though with Wade he didn’t really need much convincing 

Logan was having a hard time and Wade called him out

“Stop being so jealous all the time, Peanut.” 

Y/N finally realized that Logan’s actions were from jealousy.

She hated that he felt like that and wanted him to be comfortable with the situation. 

She cried a lot at night because of it and because she didn’t want to let either of them go. 

She loved them both. 

But her feelings couldn’t be hidden forever and soon enough he found out.

He wasn’t a big fan of her hiding her feelings from him but who was he to say when he kept his from her.

It made him feel a little better when he found out that Wade didn’t know either 

They planned a surprise date for her.

Logan and Wade, together.

They had a good time planning it and Logan didn’t feel jealous anymore.

Even when she found out and kissed Wade before him, he couldn’t help but smile. 

Cuddling without him, it now put a smile on his face. 

Sex? Well just like Wade he likes to watch and even participate. 

Just don’t expect him to do anything with Wade 

On second thought just to make Y/N happy he has kissed Wade. Even made out with him.

It wasn’t as bad as he thought but he would never admit that out loud. 

Wade was a good kisser 

Wade had no issue with kissing Logan and even offered to do more with him

Logan turned that down immediately 

But overall Y/N was happy that Logan was no longer jealous

[rafecameroninterlude]

can you do like a spin off to the fic you did where rafe went to the strip club, and instead of them making up y/n stands on business and leaves 😭? thank you if you do i love your writing smmm

warnings: angst, cheating

a/n: i heard y’all loud and clear, i hope you guys like this version just as much, if not more <3 based off of this request

“fuck, they don’t make them like this on figure eight.” you watched with watery eyes as rafe’s hands roamed the body of a stranger, his friends hollering in the background. seeing rafe receive a lap dance should’ve been enough for you to click out of instagram and call it quits, but you couldn’t help yourself in watching the rest of kelce’s stories. after skimming through the rest of the photos and videos, you didn’t have any tears left in you to cry.

getting up on shaky legs, you took everything you could fit in a suitcase, ignoring the calls from rafe as you went around your shared bedroom, grabbing your things. just as you were taking your last bag downstairs, the front door opened, revealing the last person you wanted to face right now. “what’s all of this?” your head shot up at the voice, your lips swollen from biting on them so hard. “what’s wrong?” he moved close, making you back away.

“please don’t touch me.” your voice came out weak. rafe scoffed, blinking rapidly as you took a seat on the couch, holding your head in your hands. “what’s wrong with you? why do you have all your shit down here?” he kneeled in front of you, the smell of cheap perfume filling your senses. “you should probably remind your friends to hide me from their story ‘next time you want to let someone put their boobs in your face.” you sniffled, avoiding his gaze.

rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he reached for your arm. “baby, please, i can explain everything.” you smiled, shaking your head. “you don’t have to. i really don’t care anymore, i’m leaving.” he narrowed his eyes at you, stumbling over his next words. “w-what the fuck are you talking about?” he grabbed two of your bags, about to take them upstairs before you stopped him. “this isn’t the first time you’ve been unfaithful, rafe, and if i don’t leave right now, it won’t be the last.” your voice cracked.

he shook his head, jogging upstairs, only to see you had cleared everything that belonged to you. rafe’s heart dropped, it looked like you had never been here to begin with. panic settled in his gut. “you can’t leave, i won’t let you.” he came back down, his eyes filled with guilt. “i already have a car on the way.” rafe shouted, punching the air. “y/n, i’m begging you baby, please let’s just go to bed-” you watched him cry, and for the first time you felt nothing. “we’ll forget all about this in the morning, alright? i’ll take you somewhere nice for breakfast, we could spend the day on the druthers the way that you like.” by the way he was talking, it sounded like he was reassuring himself more than you.

“and sweep it under the rug just like the last few times? no.” you laughed bitterly. “you cheat and time and time again i don’t do anything about it. i’m so tired, rafe. ‘tired of hearing the women at the country club call me ‘dumb and clueless’, i’m tired of everyone giving me pitiful looks everytime we walk inside a room.. i’m tired of not being valued.” you looked down at your hand, removing the promise ring that clearly didn’t mean anything.

“hey, hey, come on,” he pulled you up, “i value you, you know i do. i get you everything you want, goddamit, i take care of you!” you flinched at the volume of his voice. “i could get myself whatever i want rafe. all i’ve ever wanted was for you to be faithful, and you can’t even do that.” he watched as you glanced outside. “my ride is here.” he blinked, everything hitting him all at once. “y/n, stop.” he held you in place, not allowing you to move until you shoved him.

“there’s someone out there who is going to love me, and care about my feelings in all situations, someone who isn’t selfish.” you started rolling your suitcase out of the house, rafe following closely behind. “please don’t leave!” he ran his fingers through his hair. he begged and begged until you held the very last bag in your hand. “i hope one day you meet someone like yourself, fall in love with them, and realize that no matter what you do, it will never be enough.” he watched you get into the black suv, feeling nothing but despair as the car drove away.

[l1tw1ck]

Not a Suspect

Bottom!Dean x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,292 ☆

probably ooc/plot dependent, I haven't watched in a while 😭

CW: Non-Con, First Time Bottoming, Anal Fingering, Humiliation, Overstimulation, Semi Rough Sex, Blood Mention, Daddy Kink, Creampie

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Your hand is pressed against Dean’s neck, his back against the wall. You lifted him a few inches in the air in order to meet your eyes. You caught him snooping around your room.

“I- I thought this was my uncle’s house!” He smiles sheepishly. You're so much stronger than he is, he wasn't expecting to be put in a chokehold. “The door was unlocked so—”

“Save it. I’ve seen you and that other guy hanging around town snooping for information about that incident. You must think I’m a criminal, huh?”

“That's not the case, sir, I um—”

“Did you come to that conclusion after you searched my things?” You click your tongue then look him up and down. “I’ll let this slide though. As long as you make it up to me.”

“I uh, I have forty dollars-”

“Hmm.” You place him on the ground and turn him around. You grab his wallet from his back pocket and find an ID. Your old jobs gave you the skill of knowing what's fake and what's real. ��Of course. I knew you weren't a real detective.” You laugh.

“I’m an undercover investigator!”

“Uh huh.” You find a secret pocket and find his real ID. “There we go. Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s ears burn red. He can't believe he's in this situation and that he can't fight back, something about this is making him feel timid. Sam warned him not to do this but he didn't think he'd feel so helpless against you. He’s fought much stronger and scarier creatures than you but it's different when it comes to humans. You can't figure out their motives so easily.

You drop his wallet and lean over, unbuckling his belt then forcefully pulling his pants down. “Hey! What are you doing?!” He flails around defiantly.

“Stop moving.” You use his belt to tie his wrists together.

“I’m not gay!”

“You really think I care, sweetheart?” You pull down his boxers. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.” You spread his ass open and spit on his rim before forcefully shoving a finger inside him.

“Fuck!” He cries out. “Stop!”

You chuckle. “I know your type. You gag at the mere idea of having sex with another guy.” You force another finger inside him and start stretching him out. “Then, once you do, you love it like the little slut you really are. Trust me.”

His entire face is red with humiliation. “You're wrong.”

“We’ll see about that.” You find his prostate. Dean moans, his knees buckling. If it weren't for your hand on his waist, he’d probably fall. “There it is.” You say gently, your husky voice making him feel strange. You continue to prod at his prostate, reveling in his strained whimpers. He’s trying so hard not to make a sound. He clenches his fists and aggressively bites down on his lip as you continue to pleasure him, although he doesn't want to admit that.

He will admit that it hurts. A lot. Dean rests his forehead on the wall. He hates how good it feels despite everything, your thick fingers stretch him out so well. His face is so hot it feels like he has a fever. “Ah–” Dean gasps. “No- no—” He shuts his eyes tightly and lets out a muffled moan as he comes, splattering the wall with his cum.

“Good boy~” You praise him, slowly sliding your fingers out. It feels like Dean’s head is going to explode. “I’m a little too impatient to keep going.”

Dean gulps at the sound of your belt falling to the ground and your fly being unzipped. There's nothing he can do to stop you. You take out your hard length and press the tip against his rim. You lick your lips and begin to force yourself inside. “You're tight, baby.” You groan, pressing your chin on his shoulder. His palms begin to bleed from how tightly he's clenching his fists, it's too painful for him.

“Fuck—” He breathes out. You're big.

“It hurts, doesn't it?” You coo, reaching out for his weeping cock. “Let me help you.”

Dean moans as you begin to roughly stroke his dick. “Sto- stop–” A single tear runs down his cheek. You're reaching so far inside him. He rolls his eyes back as you bring him closer to his climax.

“It’s all in, baby.” You bottom out. “How’s it feel?”

“It fucking hurts–” He hisses, more tears running down his cheeks. “You bastard– ah~!” He comes once again.

“You're cute when you whine.” You slowly pull back then shove your cock back inside. Dean rolls his eyes back and lets out a slutty sounding moan. You grin and start thrusting in and out of him at a steady pace. You look at his beat red face, his mouth remaining open to let out his pathetic moans. “‘S good, isn't it?”

Dean shakes his head despite his body betraying him. “No- No~!”

“You're not good at lying.” You place your hand on his throat, lifting his head up. “Admit it. You like getting fucked.”

He bites down on his lip and rips a bit of skin, blood trickling down. You lean in closer and lick up his blood. “You like how Daddy spreads open your tight hole, don't you, baby?”

He lets out a muffled whimper, his cock weakly spurting out another rope of cum.

You chuckle. “I know I’m right.” You let go of his neck and stroke his dick again. “You’re just a pretty little cock whore.”

“Nnh- No-” He moans. Dean is well aware of the fact that his lies are completely unbelievable. He doesn't want to like this at all.

“Yeah? You really think you're not? You think you're not into this?” You laugh again. “No, Dean, you're a slut who loves taking cock. You love how it feels to have a cock in your ass. Admit it.”

“I don't- I don-” He pauses, drool spilling from his lips as you stroke his sensitive cock.

“Be honest, slut.” You rub the tip of his length with your thumb. Dean has another orgasm. He…He really does like it.

He whimpers adorably. “Don't…Don’t stop.”

“That’s what I thought.” You say smugly, smirking. He shivers. You let go of his poor length and pull out. You turn him around and lift him up by his thighs, pushing his back against the wall. He looks at you in embarrassment as you slide your length back inside him and roughly fuck him.

Dean moans more freely than before, his eyelashes fluttering like a hand fan. He wraps his arms around you for stability. “Fuck~! Wai- wait~!” He gasps.

“I can't control myself, your cunt feels too fucking good.”

He mewls. You lean in and sloppily make out with him. You’re driving him insane. You slide your hand up underneath his shirt and rub your thumb against his nipple. He moans into your mouth. His nipples have always been sensitive but it feels even better in this situation.

You pull away and let out a groan. “Gonna come, sweetheart, right in this tight ass of yours.”

“Mmh- yes~” Dean really feels like a slut now. You were right.

You chuckle and let out a low sound of pleasure as your thrusts slow to a halt, your cock spurting hot ropes of cum into his cunt. “There you go, getting your ass stuffed is a much better job for you.” You pull out and drop him onto your bed. “Should I call you a cab?”

He shakes his head. He doesn't want to leave. “Can I stay?”

You chuckle. “Sure. And you know what? I know a few things about that incident you're looking into.”

[2hightocare]

TUTUS AND TIARAS!

Synopsis— What Iseul says Jungkook does, besides tutus and tiaras are not that bad…

“Did Iseul lose a tooth? Why is Kook dressed as the tooth fairy?”

pairings: dilf!jungkook x fem!oc

genre: found family! married au!

warnings: just super cute fluff, Jungkook literally doing anything Iseul tells him to do, cuss words, mentions of sex.

a/n: I missed writing their lil family :( welcome Jia to the family!! I love them so much… I hope you guys do too🥹

“Let’s be honest, I look sexy as fuck.” Your husband runs his hand over his body; a snort escapes past your lips, which gets glared at in return from Jungkook who’s in a pink tutu and pink tiara he stole from Iseul.

“Not only is he full of himself, but he’s delusional as fuck as well… great.” Ari shakes her head, as you take a picture secretly beside her with Iseul and Ye Joon clapping their hands happily on your lap.

Jungkook’s Calvin Klein boxers are visible to everyone in the room; the only thing barely covering him is the very small pink tutu that his daughter put on him, and she didn’t have to ask twice; everyone knew anything Iseul wanted she got. The small charm necklace lays tightly on his neck like a choker, shirtless, his tattoos in full display, the tiny tiara sits prettily on his messy hair.

“I can a hundred percent see your balls.” Hoseok sighs, as he rubs a hand through his hair. Giving his girlfriend a small tight-lip smile, which might translate as an apology for dragging her into this little family dynamic.

Jia still remembers meeting all of you on Christmas Eve dinner; to say she felt immediately welcomed was somewhat calming to her. She usually took super long to trust someone and open up, but meeting all of you sent her a sense of comfort whenever she was in everyone’s presence.

“Okay, I feel like I need to warn you before opening the door…” Hoseok softly chuckles, which causes steam to come out of his mouth from how cold it was.

Jia raises an eyebrow, “are they that bad?” She asks.

“Nothing to be scared of; they just love really hard…” He smiles at his girlfriend, who only nods in return, slightly feeling nervous since she knew that whoever was behind that door meant so much to the boy she had fallen in love with. “And besides, they are a little crazy too…” he shrugs before clicking on the doorbell to your and Jungkook’s house.

Hoseok moves the container full of chocolate chip cookies cut into cute Christmas decorations to his other hand, then takes Jia’s hand right after squeezing softly.

The door opens as you stand happily behind it; eyes lighting up when you see the couple in the entrance. “Hi! Happy Christmas Eve!” You quickly hug Hoseok, which he returns, wrapping his arms around your frame giving your back a small pat before separating.

“And you must be Jia, you’re prettier in person.” You open your arms before throwing yourself into a hug without thinking. Without a second thought, Jia hugs back.

“Come in; everyone is already here, we’re just waiting for Seokjin and Lora.” You part away from Jia, who’s smiling back at you before following behind you inside.

“Y/n said you had to share!” A boy throws himself onto the raven boy who’s hovering over the last cookie pack; he has been hiding from everyone. “Okay and? This is the last pack!” He shouts back as they both tackle on the couch, the cookie pack flying onto the floor.

“I’ve got a hundred on Kookie; who’s in?” The blonde girl says as she chews on the cookies from the packet that they’re fighting for.

“Done betting on Jungkook after No Nut November, thousand-dollar mistake. Motherfucker couldn’t last twenty-four hours.” Another guy comes in from the back and sighs loudly as the blonde girl nods before passing the pretty girl beside her a cookie.

Jia couldn’t explain how her body and mind instantly relaxed after witnessing the whole situation unfolding in front of her; she saw how you quickly intervened, separating the two boys before giving the raven boy with a tattoo sleeve a swat before snatching the cookie pack from the two girls’ reach and walking back to her.

She watched as the blonde girl passed a hundred bucks to a boy on her right. Before turning their attention to her.

“Hi, I’m Eunbi!” The blonde girl smiled warmly, “Happy Christmas Eve! I’m Ari.” The other girl beside her says, standing up and coming Jia’s way for a hug. “We’re huggers here!” Ari giggles.

“Taehyung,” He goes in for a hug as well, “I’m Jimin!” The boy who was just hovering over Jungkook smiles softly at Jia, going in for a hug as well.

“Jeon Jungkook, extrovert, DILF extraordinaire.” He says standing next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. “This motherfu…” You groan alongside everyone. “Here he goes again,” “He’s not allowed to introduce himself anymore.” “Can we throw him away?” All of them mutter under their breaths.

“Please ignore him; I’m y/n and I’m stuck with him for the rest of my life.” You roll your eyes as you motion to the guy beside you.

“You sure as hell are.” He puffs,

“Stop looking at my balls!” Jungkook covers his lower part with his hand before shouting, “Tae come out now!”

That’s when everyone gasps loudly, his wife’s jaw dropping to the floor sending Jimin into a fit of laughter. “And I thought Jungkook’s outfit was bad; I can’t! Someone record this shit right now.” Jimin laughs, throwing his head back as he clutches his stomach.

“Sending this to the family group chat ASAP; I need to see what Lora got to say about this.” You laugh as you take a picture of your husband and Taehyung side by side, Jungkook smiling with two thumbs up while Taehyung holds his balls tightly.

Taehyung stands beside your husband in a pair of pink leotards and sheer stockings a little too small for his large figure and has his two hands in front of his private parts. “It’s up my ass I’m afraid…” Taehyung states which sends the group into a large fit of laughter, the kids who suggested the fashion show are currently giggling and clapping their hands non-stop for their daddies.

“Take it off! I can’t breathe..” Ari clutches her stomach as she presses her legs together, as she’s about to pee herself. A loud ding is heard from everyone’s phones, “Lora said, ‘I didn’t know Tae took ballet classes?’ ‘Did Iseul lose a tooth? Why is Kook dressed as the tooth fairy?” You read out loud laughing between words.

“Oh, she’s so real,” Jia says between laughs as she watches Taehyung waddle away with Jungkook running behind him.

“I can’t believe I’m tied to this family for the rest of my life.” Eunbi fake wipes her tears as she sniffles, before snatching Jimin’s last cookie.

“Dada!!” Iseul says loudly when Jungkook comes back running down the stairs with a new cookie packet, “hi my baby” Jungkook’s eyes widened as he picks Iseul up from your lap and showering her cheeks with wet kisses. Iseul giggles in his arms trying to push him away.

“The day when Iseul grows up and doesn’t want Jungkook’s kisses—“ Yoongi tries saying, “I’m not listening, I’m not listening.” Jungkook starts screaming, sending Ye Joon and Iseul into a giggling mess as they both put their hands over their ears, copying him.

You watch with a big smile on your face. You truly had no idea how you ended up sitting on this couch surrounded by the people that you loved more than anything else in the world. You watch your husband with your daughter in his arms as he passes Iseul half of a cookie before going back to arguing with Yoongi about how Iseul will one day grow up, and she’ll be her own person that one day won’t ever listen to her dad ever again.

“In fact, Iseul might grow up before you do,” Taehyung says, patting Jungkook’s back as he walks beside him. The tights and leotard long discarded and replaced with jeans and a shirt before dropping in the middle of you and his wife on the couch, putting his arm around Ari.

“I’m done with all of you! Everyone out!” Jungkook pouts, pointing to the door. “You for real ain’t kicking us out?” Hoseok questions, laughing only to be met with a serious look on Jungkook’s face.

“Out. I’m trying to fuck my wife.” Jungkook says casually, not before covering Iseul’s ears.

And without a second thought, everyone stood up, collected their things, and made their way to the door. “Oh, we’re actually leaving?” Jia asks, confused about why everyone is suddenly in a rush to leave.

“You weren’t here at the time, but Halloween night… let’s just say party, bathroom, Y/N, and Jungkook.” Eunbi shivers from the memory.

And with that, everyone leaves, leaving you on the couch chuckling, and Jungkook locking the door behind them with Iseul in his arms. “Did you just say that so they could leave?” You stand up, making your way to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he puts Iseul down, and she waddles away with Bam, your guy’s Doberman puppy.

“No, I’m actually trying to fuck,” Jungkook shrugs, leaving a wet kiss on your neck. “Iseul?” You ask, trying to push him away.

“Princess! Nap time!” He untangles himself from you before rushing to get Iseul.

[wannabeschyulersister]

in a world of boys he’s a gentleman

Despite only dating for six months, it often felt like you and Carmy were on the same wavelength. There were times where you both could communicate what you were thinking with a simple look. He often could tell what you were feeling just by your body language. 99% of the time he was right.

Which is how he knew as soon as you walked through the back door of the Bear that something was wrong.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” He asked you as you started taking your coat off.

“Nothing.”

Carmen grabbed your hands to stop you, “(Y/n), what’s wrong?”

You huffed, “Nothing is wrong, Carmen.”

Carmen. Not Carmy or Bear. Not Babe.

Carmen.

It definitely set off his inner alarm.

“I’m not lettin’ you into that kitchen without you telling me what happened.” He stood his ground. You knew he was being serious.

“There’s this construction worker at the new bakery down the street that tried to catcall me nearby. He’s just an idiot and wouldn’t shut the fuck up.”

“Did he touch you?”

“No, nothing like that. He just didn’t catch the hint that I’m not interested and then called me a “bitch” because I ignored him.”

In that moment, you could see the fury ignite in Camry’s eyes.

“I’ll be right back.” Before you could grab his arm to stop him, he brushed past you and out the back door.

“Richie!” You shouted as you put your coat back on.

It was only a matter of seconds before Richie rushed to you, “What’s goin’ on?”

“Your cousin is about to do something very stupid.” You answered him.

“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that fuckin’ sentence.” He said before leaving out the door with you right on his heels. You could see Carmy was already ahead of you both at the end of the alleyway. He turned to his left and made his way down to the new bakery.

“Carmen!” You shouted as you hurried to try and catch up to him. You knew he wouldn’t stop.

“Yo! Cousin!” Richie ran faster than you did and was closer to Carmy but you hurried as quickly as you could.

As you turned left, you could see that Camry was at the bakery. The construction worker that hit on you was standing outside. He was taller than Carmen but lankier. Thankfully, he was alone.

“Are you the fucker that called my girl a “bitch”?” You heard Carmy ask the man as you caught up to them.

“And if I did?” The guy dropped his clipboard on the ground and stepped up to Carmen.

Richie quickly stood between Carmy and the asshole that started all of this mess. Camry tried to shove Richie away.

In that moment, a million different scenarios ran through your mind. The majority of them didn’t look good. You didn’t want Carmen to get hurt by some dumb idiot that didn’t know how to respect women.

You placed your hand around Carmen’s bicep and tried to pull him towards you, “Carmen, this guy isn’t worth it! Let’s go back to the restaurant.”

Carmen was practically seething at this point. He wished he could’ve had a few minutes alone with the creep to teach him a lesson. He was partially mad at himself because he normally walked with you to work but he needed to be at the restaurant earlier than you that morning.

He was positive that creep wouldn’t have said shit if he’d walked with you.

“Call my girl out of her name again and I’ll fuckin’ smash your head on this cement!”

By now, a couple of the creep’s coworkers came out of the store. They grabbed him and started pulling him back inside. You heard one of them tell him that he was already on his second strike with their boss.

“Cousin! It’s time to go. You better be glad that I was here because that dude would’ve whooped your ass.” Richie tried to joke to made light of the situation.

“Fuck off.” Carmen told him before he grabbed your hand, “Are you okay?”

“You shouldn’t have done that, Carmen.” You mumbled as Richie walked ahead of the two of you. You just wanted to get back to the restaurant and forget about what just happened.

“I wasn’t going to let some idiot disrespect the woman that I love.” Carmen explained to you.

You didn’t say anything else on the short walk to the Bear. Richie was already inside telling everyone what happened. You were positive that you were going to hear about it all day.

“Hey, c’mere.” Carmy grabbed your hand again and led you to the small office. He closed the door after you stepped inside, “Are you mad at me?”

You shook your head, “No, of course not. I just don’t think it was a wise idea for you to confront that guy.”

Carmy walked towards you and cupped your cheek lightly with his right hand, “I don’t care if it wasn’t wise. I’m not going to let any dumb fuck ever call you out of your name.”

You leaned into his touch and he brought his other hand and placed it gently on the back of your head. You rested against his chest. “Thank you, Carmy. My protector.

He felt a little better that you were calling him by his nickname again. Carmy kissed the top of your head, “Anytime, (Y/n).”

You both took a moment to bask in the silence while still embracing. The rest of the day was sure to be filled with the loud noise of the kitchen but the moment between the two of you put you both at ease.

After sharing a few soft and meaningful kisses, you pulled back and sighed a little, “We probably should get out there. I’m sure everyone is wondering what we are doing.”

Carmy reluctantly let you go, “Yeah, let’s go and get the day started.”

You took off your jacket again and set it on the coat hook, “You should get Richie a nice gift.”

“What? Why would I do that?” Carmy asked confused.

“Because that guy would’ve beat the shit out of you.” You joked.

Carmy cracked a smile as he gave you a tap on your behind, “Is that so?”

You nodded playfully, “Absolutely. I probably should be thanking Richie right now instead of you. Actually, I think I’ll go do that now.”

Carmen quickly grabbed you by the waist and drew you closer to him again as you laughed, “Well aren’t you hilarious.”

[apdreadful]

I’ve decided that from here forward I’m writing Tommy and Buck/Evan as long term canon. In the words of Buck himself “Who cares?!”

I get the feeling that Tommy is difficult to get really angry. Mostly based on his past. And his general roll with the punches attitude thus far. So I don’t foresee a lot of strife or fighting in his future with Buck. Except the first time Tommy experiences the after of that big marshmallow Evan Buckley doing something really dangerous and reckless..again.

And Tommy who never gets angry, who never shouts at Buck, who flew a helicopter into a goddamn hurricane in the middle of the ocean, really loses his shit this time because Buck cannot understand why Tommy is so upset that he dropped into a dangerous situation against orders AGAIN.

Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose to keep from shouting “Bobby told you not to go in. He told you not to risk it. That the floors were too unstable”

“There could have been someone left” Buck replies “Someone needed to check. It had to be me”

“Why? Because you’re fucking super human? The great Buck Buckley from the 118 who scoffs at danger, has survived a tsunami, getting trapped beneath a fire truck, throwing a blood clot, and was officially dead for three minutes after getting struck by FUCKING LIGHTNING!”

“How do you know about all of that?”

“That isn’t what matters”

“I think it is” Buck takes a step toward Tommy “Have you been stalking me babe?”

Noticing the mischievous smile Tommy shakes his head “Oh no no no. You are not going to adorable your way out of this”

Bucks shoulders sag and he sighs “I’m ok Tommy. Not even a scratch”

“I can see that” Tommy lets out a deep exhale “I understand the risks of the job. I’m not like your exes who would get all distraught over you removing a cat from a tree. But for fucks sake, you are worse than the EOD guys when I was in Afghanistan with the walking - or in your case running or jumping- right into the worst case scenario with no thought of your own safety” Rubbing his forehead he continues “Evan. You’ve got a savior complex and it’s noble and selfless..”

Buck cuts him off “It’s not a savior complex. I’m not stupid. I understand that sometimes no matter what you do you can’t save them. But sometimes maybe you can, and in those cases, I just make the most sense”

Tommy crosses his arms to keep from strangling him or kissing him stupid again to shut him up “How is that? How does you possibly dying make any sense?”

“They all have people that need them. They all have someone they belong to and..” he trails off with a small shrug

And Tommy hears the words he doesn’t say. He is…expendable. And just like that all of the anger drains out of Tommy to be replaced by a something else. “Evan” he says softly.

“I know” Buck interjects “I know that people love me and they would be sad, especially Maddie. And I don’t want to die. But I don’t want someone who has someone they need, and that needs them, to die either. I couldn’t live with that”

Tommy closes his eyes. This man..How can he be so adorable and selfless, yet so completely stubborn and a pain in the ass about his own safety?

Once he calms his thoughts and finds the words he wants to say, he opens his eyes to see Evan looking at him calmly. Like he expects Tommy to see the sense in what he said.

“Evan. I know we haven’t really put a label on this. On us. But that’s because I don’t want to pressure you. I’m the first man you’ve been with and you’re still figuring out who you are, and I understand that. But let me clarify something for you. I need you to come back to me. Ok?”

Buck blinks “Huh”

“I need you to come back to me” he repeats “Like Bobby needs Athena, and Karen needs Hen, and yes like Maddie needs Chimney.

“And Jee-un. Jee-yun needs her dad”

“Yes, and in that same vein, Christopher needs Eddie” he agrees, trying not to give in to his exasperation. “I need you. I am that person who needs you to come home Evan”

Evan stops whatever he was about to say. Startled awareness creeping into his eyes..Tommy sees a mix of emotions flit across his face. Surprise, joy, fear, everything just races across that expressive face and then Evan sinks onto the barstool at his kitchen island. His hands coming up to cover his face.

Tommy’s stomach clench’s. He pushed too hard, too soon “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I do care and want you to come home but..”

Buck looks up at him “Don’t you dare take that back”

“I’m not taking it back. I just don’t want to push you”

Something else crosses Evans face at that..but he tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. “You aren’t pushing. You aren’t pressuring me. I am in this just as much as you. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say without it sounding lame and emo as shit”

“Did you just hear me? You can say anything to me Evan. Whatever it is”

Buck rolls his bottom lip between his teeth again. “I’ve never questioned why I do this…I mean it’s the whole reason I was born. To save my brother. To save Daniel. That’s what I do, that’s who I am. It’s why I became a firefighter. To be the one who saves people. The 118 is my family. And I would do anything to protect them from harm”

“I’m not asking you to stop. I would never ask that. I just want to remind you that you matter to a lot of people, and you also have someone who is waiting for you”

Bucks voice is thick “I know that. I get that. But…Nobody has ever. I have never belonged to anyone, like that”

In a sense of deja vu Tommy closes the short distance to Buck. Tipping his face up, he kisses him. Not soft and gentle like their first kiss in this kitchen. But bold and deep. Branding Evan with his mouth. Pulling back he says fiercely “You belong to me like that. For as long as you want..you belong to me and I belong to you, like that”

“I will ALWAYS need you to come back to me Evan”

ao3 like per request

[f1smutwriter]

Hi :) I really liked your poly!fic with Charles and Max, I was wondering if you could do something similar with Oscar and Logan where Logan and the Reader are subs and Oscar is the dom. If not that is totally okay, thank you so much, I really enjoy your writing ❤️

|𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 (𝐥��𝟐, 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏)

Dom!Oscar piastri x Sub!Logan sargent x Sub!Reader

Summary: Oscar reminds you and Logan that your his and only his

Warnings:SMUT! Dom/subs situation, oral (fem and male rec), anal, unprotected sex (NO),) hair pulling, spitting, face riding, dirty talk, pet names (angel, my little sluts, pretty boy/girl etc), degrading mixed with praising, squirting, fluff, and more that I probably missed

Notes: for the person who requested, you did gods work. Don’t get me wrong I love sub Oscar but dom Oscar it’s just so unexpected like he does not look like a dom he looks like a full blown sub. But anyways here you go love. Hope you enjoy!

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Me, Oscar, and Logan were all at the club celebrating the beginning of the f1 season with all their friends. Right now I’m currently dancing with Logan we slowly grind on each other as Oscar stares at us with such lust in his eyes. Well all stared dating when they were both in f2. We’ve all three been together ever since.

“Is osc staring” Logan asked while grinding his hard cock against my clothed core making me whimper in his neck. “Yes he’s staring” I mumbled in his neck before feeling unfamiliar hands around my waist grinding against me. I gasp loudly before moving away from the random person. “Come on baby don’t be like that” the drunk guy slurred before trying to grab me again. Logan stepped in and pushed him off. “Don’t touch my girl” he threatened the guy, this is the first time I’ve ever seen him like this he’s normally a very quiet obedient person like I am.

“I’m pretty sure if she had a feel of me inside her she wouldn’t be your girl anymore” the guy grumbled trying to scare Logan. But before he could say anything Oscar threw a right hook to the guys face making the drunk man stumble down. “He said don’t touch our girl, before I fucking hurt you” Oscar threatened before making sure I was safe in Logan’s arms. “Oh so she’s fucking both of you. Never mind she’s probably worn out anyway” the guy mumbled making Oscar start beating the shit out of him. I just look at him scared never seeing him be this violent before.

“Oscar” Logan yelled making Oscar stop punching the bloody guy. “Your scaring her lets go” he shouted before grabbing Oscar and me and taking us to our car. Logan goes into the driver seat as I sit on Oscar’s lap in the passenger seat. “I’m sorry angel” Oscar whispered to me making me look at him with a bit of fear. “It’s okay I know you just wanted to protect me and lo” I whispered softly to him before hiding my face into his neck.

“Hated the way he touched you and Logan, you guys are mine and I’d be damned if anyone ever touched what is mine” He said possessively while rubbing my thigh. I whimpered softly in his neck feeling his grip on my thighs getting a bit tighter.

"Ozzy calm down my love, you're gonna bruise up her thigh" Logan says softly putting his hand over Oscars hand that was on my thigh. "I'm sorry princess, he just pisses me off. If Logan didn't stop him who knows what he would have touch next" He growled in my ear but still loud enough for Logan to hear. "These tits" He grumbled before squeezing both of my tits making me gasp lightly. “Or this pussy” he growled darker into my ear cupping my clothed pussy making me squeal from the sudden friction.

“Can you guys wait til we get home I can’t touch no one right now” Logan whined not being able to touch me or Oscar. So Oscar brings his hand to Logan’s semi-hard cock and takes it out of his pants stroking it as his other hand rubs my clit I’m tight circles. Me and Logan moan at the same time. I close my eyes feeling the pleasure take over my body, but Logan tries to keep his eyes on the road.

“B-babe you can’t, I-fuck I’m driving” Logan stuttered in pleasure and his grip on the wheel grows tighter. “Who’s the boss here” Oscar asked him while rubbing his tip with his thumb making Logan hips buck. “Y-y-you” Logan groans feeling Oscar’s pace go faster.

“Then why are you telling me what to do, huh” he mumbled in his ear squeezing Logan’s tip making him moan loudly. “Do you hear our boy, so desperate to be filled huh. Is that what you want want that pretty little pussy to be filled with me or him” Oscar whispered in my ear making whine as he continues to circle my clit with such tight firm circles. “Ozzy m’so close” I whimpered feeling my legs shake. All of a sudden I feel the pleasure stop making me cry out as Logan does the same thing.

“Gosh you both are such sluts, my little sluts. Only I get to touch this cock and pussy because you both belong to me and only me, Understand” he says demanding for our answers. “What’s your color darling” he whispered to me making me whine. “G-green” I babbled to him trying to get off on his knee but he stops me. “Angel what’s your color” he asked Logan, while Logan tries his hardest to get us home as fast as possible. “Green osc” he mumbled trying to get more friction from his hand.

A few minutes I feel the car stopping making me look out the window seeing that we were home. “So this is what we’re gonna do. You both are gonna go upstairs and strip, and if I find one piece of clothing on any of you. You’ll be over my lap got it” he warned us making me grab Logan’s hand. “Yes” we both say before we practically run upstairs. We start striping in front of each other making Logan look at my body, and making me look at him.

We hear Oscar’s heavy foot steps to we face towards the door naked and ready for him. “Wow I guess I trained you both right” Oscar grinned while looking at both of us. He comes over to Logan grabbing his cock stroking it softly. I watch them interact with each other while I squeeze my thighs together for friction. “Your so hard Logan who made you this hard baby” Oscar said playing coy like he wasn’t jerking him off on the car ride.

“Y-y-you fuck feels so good” Logan moaned throwing his head back from pure pleasure. Then he looks at me, seeing me clench my thighs to help me out. “Aww are you all wet princess, how about since he’s been such a good boy Logan tastes this pretty little pussy” Oscar teased while cupping my wet cunt. All I could do was nod wanting Logan to taste me.

“Go lay down for Logan and make sure your pretty little legs are spread so I can see” he whispered to me making me walk to the edge of the bed and spread my legs as far as they can go. “Look at that Logan, gonna eat her out good huh baby” he chuckled to Logan who was looking his lips. Logan comes over to me and goes on his knees spreading my lips to get a better view of my wet cunt.

He started to tease me and kiss up my thighs leaving soft marks on my inner thighs making me moaned softly. He then took a bold strap of my pussy from my hole to my throbbing clit, making me throw my head back in pleasure and moan. Oscar came up to me and started to suck on my nipple adding more to the pleasure of Logan eating me out. “F-feels so good Lo-” I moaned before getting cut off by my own scream from him sucking harshly on my clit. I tug on his hair feeling my orgasm coming, making my legs tremble from the intense pleasure.

“Need to cum please I want to cum” I cried out feeling my orgasm about to wash over me. “Cum baby, cum on our boys tongue” he whispered making me cry out feeling myself cum all over Logan’s tongue while pulling his hair making him groan against my cunt. But Logan doesn't stop he keeps eating me out like a starved man making my legs tremble with sensitively. “Lo-too much” I cried out tearing up trying to pull him away. He finally stops and kisses up my thighs before pulling away fully, licking his lips retasting my juices. “She taste so good osc” Logan whimpered softly before Oscar grabs his jaw and kisses him sharing my taste off of his tongue.

“Your right baby she does” Oscar said sucking on Logan’s tongue making him whimper as Oscar slowly goes on his knees in front of him. I just watch Oscar go on his knees and lip up Logan’s pre-cum from his angry red tip making Logan moan softly. I squeezed my legs watching my boyfriend suck off my other boyfriend. Oscar took Logan’s full member in his mouth making Logan moan loudly, while pulling his hair. Oscar slapped his thigh since he didn’t ask permission to touch him. “P-please” Logan begged making Oscar chuckle while nodding as he continued to suck him off. Moving his head up and down, wrapping his hand around the places he couldn’t fit.

I see Oscar trying to deep throat him but failing, I giggled softly making him take his mouth away from his throbbing cock. “Come here you want to laugh at me, you’re gonna take all of it” Oscar said grabbing me and putting Logan’s cock in my mouth as he guides my head on Logan’s cock. He starts making me go lower almost taking all of Logan’s member making me gag a bit. “Aww what happened had so much to say but now you can’t take it huh” Oscar taunts me making Logan moan loudly and making me suck him faster.

“O-osc so c-close baby” Logan moaned gripping my hair and tugging it. Oscar pulls me away from Logan’s cock making us both whine. “Go get the lube baby” Oscar says to Logan making him grab the lube from the side dresser on his side. “Bend over. Now” he demanded Logan making him bend over in front of him his chest on the bed but he was standing up. I watch the whole thing, watching Oscar put lube on his cock along with Logan’s hole. Without hesitation Oscar sinks his cock into Logan’s hole making Logan grab my hand and moan. “While I fuck you eat her pussy” Oscar stuttered trying not to think about how tight Logan was. “Don’t want to” I told Oscar as Logan grabs my thighs to eat me out again.

“Did I ask what you wanted, no I didn’t so you’re gonna cum as much as you can before he cums. Then I’m gonna fuck your tight pussy got it” He grunted to me before thrusting slowly into Logan. Before I could answer I get cut off by my own moan as Logan eat me out fast like he was thirsty for ages. I cried out loudly gripping his hair as he moans into my weeping cunt from Oscar’s cock bullying his hole. “Gosh you both are fucking pathetic” Oscar laughed pounding into Logan’s hole hitting his prostate perfectly with each thrust. I start tearing up as he starts fucking me with his tongue feeling so close to my orgasm.

“Os-oscar m’gonna cum” Logan moaned loudly against my cunt making my thighs twitch from the vibrations of his voice. “M-me too want to cum” I begged feeling tears rolling down my face as Logan keeps me in place and devours my cunt. “Aww does my sluts want to cum” he teased making us both cry out. I moaned the loudest when I feel Logan sucking on my clit harder than earlier. Oscar reaches between him and Logan and starts stroking his hard cock, making Logan let out a long moan.

“I’m gonna count down from three and you both cum at the same time got it” Oscar groaned while thrusting in faster Logan’s hole making him almost scream out from his tip brushing to prostate. “Three” he said staring to count and making Logans assault on my clit go even faster. I feel almost light headed and no moans were coming out of my mouth just silent ones. “Two” he continued pushing Logan’s head deeper into my pussy making tears come out of my eyes, my thighs tremble, and my breathing being uneven. “One cum for me” Oscar whispered making me and Logan both moan out loud at the same time. I cum all over Logan’s face as he cums on Oscar’s hand, making Oscar pump out as much as he can.

“Log s-stop” I cried out as he continued to suck on my clit with no mercy. Logan finally pulls away from my pussy making me sigh in relief. “T-taste so good” he whimpered extremely tired from getting fucked. He lays down next to me pulling me into his lap but I’m still off the edge. All of a sudden I feel Oscar slip his thick cock inside me making me scream out in pleasure, I never get used to how much he stretched me out perfectly. “O-ozzy so sensitive t-to m-much” I cried as Logan whispers sweet nothings in my ear like Oscar isn’t fucking my guts. “Come on princess if our boy can take it, you can too, so don’t start whining” he groaned feeling me clench around him, making him go even faster hitting my g-spot every single time.

“C-close” I screamed feeling my orgasm embarrassingly fast. He places his hand on my stomach making me feel all of him. “Feel that baby I’m so fucking deep” he growled going faster and deeper which is impossible deep. He moves his hand down and starts rubbing my clit in tight circles. “C-can I c-cum please need it so bad” I begged and screamed feeling so close that’s it’s making my legs shake like crazy. “Cum princess on daddy’s cock” he whispered making me squirt all over his cock without knowing. All he does is cum in me pulling out and rubbing my clit fast with his palm making me squirt out more. I cried out from overstimulation squeezing my legs together so he couldn’t touch me no more.

I feel the fuzzy feeling that I always go into after sex with them. I was always the one that falls into subspace since they make me cum more than once. “Aww is my little princess in her subspace” he says softly kissing my head before going to the bathroom to get a towel. Logan starts scratching my head to help me out of subspace. “Come back to us baby girl” Logan whispered making me whimper as he runs his fingers through his hair. Oscar cums back cleans me up, I whimpered from the feeling of the rough material on my sensitive cunt. “I know princess I know but I have to” he said while cleaning me up good before he cleans up Logan’s stomach of his own cum.

I slowly come back and automatically fall asleep on both of them making Logan and Oscar cuddle up to me and each other. “Where was I when that dickhead came” Oscar whispered to Logan making him chuckle a bit. “You were with Lando and Alex” Logan said in a groggy voice. “I hope he knows that you both belong to me” Oscar grumbled making Logan chuckle a bit more in his neck. “We love you to Oscar we love you to”

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

Notes: what to request in one day look at me yall look at me. Anyways this book, it’s tooo goood had me blushing the whole time it was crazy. Anyways to the person who requested.Thank you girl that you made me write a masterpiece and I love it. Also if you see mistakes I’m sorry I’m just a girl trying to write as best as she can.

[hallietblr]

So my conrad request is basically the scene in season 1 where they (jeremiah and conrad) go to pick up the girls after they go skinny dipping but reader is there too and drives home with conrad?and smut but it could also just be fluff if you want

i’ve got you, always | c.fisher x reader

a/n: yay!! another conrad fic :) <3 thank you so much for the request, i loved writing it and i hope you enjoy. i had it super fluffy at first but it kind of took its own turn so i hope it’s ok. also, thank you to everyone for all the support for my writing recently — you guys make my day and i can never thank you enough. i love you all truly!

warnings: slight angst, mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, and swearing.

—

“are you fucking kidding me?!” taylor screams, putting her forearms onto the dock and searching, “i knew those girls were fucking bitches!”

belly and i swim towards her, “what happened?” belly asks,

“your fucking snake friends took our clothes and ran off, that’s what!” taylor hisses, “all that’s left are our phones.”

“they did what?” belly panics, lifting her high high enough to see the dock, “oh my god.”

i feel my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach and the colour in my face drain away. i didn’t even want to go skinny dipping in hopper’s cove but i did it anyways since taylor and belly along with belly’s friends were going.

“what do we do?” belly asks us, frantically looking around for a possible solution, “there’s a boat cover we could use!”

“are you fucking joking?” taylor scoffs, shaking her head, “absolutely not.”

“i’m calling conrad,” i tell them, grabbing my phone and clicking his name on speed dial.

i hear the girls bicker by me as my hands shake, bringing my phone to my ear, “c- conrad? i need you.”

“where are you?” he asks, concern laced into his voice. i briefly explain the situation as my lip quivers, “please hurry”

“i’ll be there as soon as i can, lovie. hang tight.” he promises before hanging up.

i turn to the girls and tell them that conrad is on his way while belly says that jeremiah is also coming. we patiently wait for what feels like hours in the water. i could feel my hands shaking as i keep myself propped up on the small dock since my legs were exhausted. my eyes were welling up with tears from anxiety — only hoping conrad will get here soon.

after what felt like hours, we heard a car’s engine running and then stop. he’s here.

“bells, n/n, oh my god,” jeremiah pants out, “i came as soon as you hung up.” he tells belly, “conrad is here too.”

on cue, conrad comes up behind jeremiah while holding a plastic bag of clothes, “nicole gave these to me. i hope everything’s in this.”

“thanks guys,” belly says sheepishly, “do you mind turning around?”

their eyes go widen in embarrassment but quickly turn around while taylor, belly, and i climb up onto the dock. we sift through the plastic bag, handing each other our clothes.

i quickly pull on my dry clothes onto my wet, water dripping body. i pull my drenched hair into a messy bun, with water droplets crawling down the back of my neck. the night breeze was freezing on my body. i shiver and close my hands into tight fists in attempt to stop the shaking.

taylor and belly are soon fully dressed again, in somewhat the same state as i was but much more collected than my embarrassed self.

“okay, you can turn around,” taylor tells the two brothers. they face us and motion us to follow them towards the cars.

“i can’t believe that they did that” jeremiah says, his arms crossed over his chest.

taylor scoffs, “i do, i literally called it that they were all bitches.”

conrad lets belly and taylor pass him to follow jeremiah, he gives me a small sympathetic smile and puts a comforting arm around me, “come on.”

we reach the two cars, belly and taylor whispering to each other, “we’ll ride with you, jere.” belly tells him before herself and taylor climb into the jeep. taylor gives me a quick wink before closing her door.

“see you two at home?” jeremiah asks conrad, who nods. the jeep soon pulls away onto the pitch black road and heads towards the fisher summer home.

“you okay?” conrad asks, facing me, “i’m sorry that happened, you didn’t deserve that.”

his hand is on my shoulder, his thumb slowly rubbing circles against the material of my shirt. i couldn’t even focus, and not in the typical sense when i’m around him. it’s usually butterflies, racing heart rate, heat on my cheeks, but this felt nearly the exact opposite.

it felt like my heart was being squeezed, my stomach was churning, and my stupid hands wouldn’t stop shaking. my vision was slightly blurry from the tears that were threatening to fall.

“you’re freezing,” he breathes out, “hold on”

he turns away and rummages around in the backseats of his car. conrad turns back to me and hands me a grey hoodie, his hoodie, “take this.”

i slowly take it from his hands, trying with every ounce of my strength to stop the shakiness of my hands. i didn’t want him to see the anxious state that i was in. it was such a stupid reason to be anxious anyways, taylor and belly were completely fine after getting their clothes. pissed off maybe, but not acting the way i was.

i have his hoodie in my hands but i don’t put it on.

“lets get you home, love.” he says but i can barely hear him with the ringing in my ears.

conrad starts walking towards his side of the car, assuming that i was also getting into the vehicle — but i feel frozen. stuck in one place.

why was it getting harder to breathe?

conrad’s hand is on the small of my back and my heart rate spikes up to an unbelievable high level, but not in that way. something is wrong, and my chest is hurting.

my hand goes to my sternum of my chest, slowing rubbing it as my breathing picks up. my body was trembling and my chest was rising and falling at a concerning pace.

“babe?” he stands up from his seat. my legs felt weak yet everything else felt heavy, why is it heavy? i feel myself collapse towards the gravel, but i don’t fall.

conrad was able to get to my side quick enough to prevent me from falling. his strong arms wrapped around me, “hey… hey, what’s wrong?”

i shake my head repeatedly, “i- i-” i stutter out and it’s hard to speak, my throat feels dry and it hurts.

he cradles me on the side of the road, “sh, it’s okay. nice and slow, what’s going on?”

“i c- can’t breathe” i tell him, his finger interlace with my shaking ones. he brings my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on them,

“you’re okay, love,” he says softly, “you’re having a panic attack.”

my eyes widen, i’ve never had one of those before. i shut my eyes in fear. my breathing doesn’t slow down for a moment, if anything, it feels like it’s going even faster now.

“look at me,” he whispers, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind my ear, “baby, look at me please.”

i open my eyes to look into his blue ones, “breathe with me, okay? nice and slow.”

i watch as conrad takes a deep breath, i try to but i don’t think it’s even possible to breathe.

“in,” he inhales, i attempt at copying his actions by taking a breath of air in, “and out.”

exhale.

my breath trembles out of my lips, he slowly nods, “just like that, in…. and out.”

we take a few more deep breaths together, until mine regulates again. conrad smiles at me, “there you go, now do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

i swallow, “i didn’t even want to go skinny dipping with the girls, i don’t fit in with them. they’re all so pretty and fun and everyone loves them. i’m nothing like them.”

a tear slips from the corner of my eye, conrad is quick to wipe it away, “so, i thought if i did it then maybe i’ll be like them. i thought they liked me too, fuck’s sake i’m so gullible. they all left! with me naked in some stupid cove.” i cry out, burying my face into my hands.

“oh, baby,” conrad coos, “sh…” he places a kiss on my hair.

he pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around my torso and placing his chin on my head, “you don’t deserve that, and you’re perfect the way you are. i don’t want to hear any of that ‘no one likes me’ shit, ok? because i do.”

“wh- what?” i ask, looking at him with watery eyes.

“i think you’re amazing just as you are,” he repeats, “you’re my y/n, i don’t want you to be one of those debutante sheep. i love you as y/n.”

my heart fills with so much love, i reach up to pull him into a kiss. he kisses me back immediately, his hands trailing up from my waist to cup my face.

“lets go home, yeah?” he asks after pulling away, “lets get you showered and into some comfy, warm, and dry clothes. we can cuddle and watch a movie. sounds good?”

“sounds perfect.” i blush, i finally pull on his grey hoodie. it falls to my mid thigh and it smells like him; cologne, cigarettes, and ocean water.

conrad helps me to my feet and opens the car door for me, “oh, and conrad?”

he looks down at me and hums, “thank you for coming to get me.” i say to him.

“i’ve got you baby, always.” conrad responds with a kiss before closing the car door.

[pantherxrogers]

hi I love your work can you please do a sugar daddy/boyfriend Mingi and what he will do for reader

blurb: sugar daddy!mingi x reader  ✧

🎀 pairing: mingi x fem!reader

🎀 warnings: suggestive, explicit language, mention of daddy kink

🎀 summary: spoiled!reader wants to bring all of her friends to coachella. mingi can't say no 🤭

🎀 a/n: tysm for your request! this was super fun (and challenging) for me to write as a san bias, lmao. i hope you love it! divider by @fairytopea

my masterlist (you can find the yunho and san versions here!)

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

“I reaaaaally miss you, Mingki,” you coo into the phone, knowing you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. That nickname always gets to him.

Fighting back giggles, you motion a quiet down to your friends, so your boyfriend can’t hear them on the other end. 

“I miss you too, baby,” he groans, knowing you’re about to get exactly what you want. But, if you ask him, he really can’t help it. Who is he to deny you?

“It’ll be so nice to see you, baby. Plus the girls really want to go to Coachella, too,” you whine, putting extra pout behind your words, playing it up for him. 

“Baby, I only asked for one press pass. I don’t know if I can get extras for your friends,” he added, hoping you’d drop it, but knowing he won’t be that lucky. 

Hidden away on the side of the practice stage, Mingi battles with himself on what he’s going to do next. The desert heat beats down on his neck, sweat accumulating in the oversized tee shirt and sweats he decided to wear for soundcheck. 

He very well could get more passes for your friends, but he already flew all of you out to Bora Bora because you wanted a girls weekend. If you’d come to California with him, he knew you’d be sitting around in the hotel room for most of the day. So, he paid for the trip without any complaints (like he always does). 

“You won’t do it for me?” You whine, putting on the dramatics.

Your friends are in near hysterics, laughing at your antics. They all know how much Mingi spoils you, and they actually find it kind of sweet. You see, Mingi is the type of boyfriend who spoils you beyond reason, but he likes to pretend he isn’t a total and complete pushover (he definitely is).

“Fuck, I’ve created a monster,” Mingi chuckles, already having made up his mind. You giggle softly, twirling your hair around the end of your finger, happy that you’ve won another battle. 

On the other end, Mingi glances up to see his captain motioning him back over, signaling the end of their short break. He holds up a hand, mouthing out I'm almost done. 

Your playful giggles steal his attention back, momentarily forgetting about the lengthy practice.

A warm blush heats Mingi’s cheeks, while he listens to your kisses through the phone.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, baby!” You squeal, dancing around with a bright smile. You motion a thumbs up to your friends, all of you cheering in victory. 

“I’ll send the jet to Bora Bora tomorrow morning, so you guys can get in early,” he announces, fighting to keep the smile off his face. He can still hear your excited giggles through the phone.

“Baby, are you listening?” He playfully chides, knowing how you get tunnel vision whenever he gives you what you want.

“Private jet, Coachella, blah blah blah,” you joke, Mingi answering you with a laugh. 

You step away from your friends for a moment, heading into the villa’s primary bedroom. 

“I really am grateful, baby. I can't wait to see you,” you confess, heart racing at the thought of seeing your boyfriend tomorrow. You fiddle with the Cartier love ring on your index finger, smiling at the memory of when he gifted it to you.

“Maybe I should just fly you out tonight,” he sighs, equally impatient to see you. 

“Mmmm, I would say yes buuuuuut,” Mingi huffs, "We have one more shopping day planned,” you mutter, remembering the Goyard bag you had your eye on yesterday. 

“Babe, you’ve been shopping the whole trip,” he argues, remembering the multiple notifications he got from his credit card company.

“I know, but I saw this bag yesterday and couldn’t make up my mind about it. I really want it now,” you whine, going into more detail as Mingi listens to your rambling with a smile. 

“Do you trust me, baby?” He questions, the wheels already turning in his head. 

“Of course,” you answer honestly, confused at the sudden change of subject. 

“Then, be ready for the driver to pick you up in two hours. I want you to myself for a night before your friends get here,” he asserts, the low rumble in his voice causing a warmth to spread over your body. 

You bite your lip before answering him, torn between the bag and the need to see your boyfriend as soon as possible. The both of you know which one you’ll pick in the end.

“Okay,” you sigh, “I’ll see you tonight,” a wide smile spreading across your face at the thought. 

“Good girl,” he coos, making you squirm against the plush mattress beneath you. 

“I love you, daddy,” you whisper, warmth flooding your cheeks at the title. Mingi chuckles to himself, fascinated by your sudden shyness.

“I love you too, baby girl. See you soon,” his voice is like gravel now, while he tries his best to not get carried away in public like this. 

He ends the phone call with a click, before sending a quick text to his manager. 

📱: Need a favor. Gonna need the private jet tonight and tomorrow. Also contact the Bora Bora sales associate for me. I need him to overnight a Goyard bag.

[hyewka]

can i suggest a fic where beomgyu is helping take the reader’s mind off a bad breakup…. by fucking the living SHIT out of her NDJDNDJDJDJ

while i fuck you straight | c.bg

warnings; hard dom best friend!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected + pullout method, breeding kink, a spank or two, praise + degradation (mostly praise), slut shaming, rough marking, a tinge of possessiveness, friends w/ benefits, no romantic feelings involved (or are there?), ruined orgasm, princess pet name, beomgyus an insatiable manwhore lol, needy perv gyu with a lot of spit play, fingering, titty sucking hehe, literal messy filth and also barely proofread on my end

a/n; have to thank jazmine with all my heart for proof reading and giving suggestions, i love you so much 😭 @heart2beom this shouldn’t be a big deal as it is, but it is my first time writing full on dom beomgyu so it is this mini celebration for me and all the dom!gyu enthusiasts (i hope) 😇 reblogs are appreciated, keeps me going

You held your phone above your face, scrolling mindlessly through your socials, though subconsciously, you were really just awaiting a call from your boyfriend. Well, now ex-boyfriend. It's already been a week since you got dumped but no matter what went down that day, you couldn't get over him.

It was pitiful every time you jumped up from your bed at a notification just to find it was in fact not your ex asking to take you back and ...just a random spam email.

Beomgyu had his back against your bed, legs sprawled on the floor, also on his phone. You guys had run out of things to talk about when every conversation spun its way back to your ex- Seen that new marvel movie? You wanted to watch it with your boyfriend. That professor just got fired! You remember your boyfriend used to complain about that class. Gosh, you don’t think you’ll ever get over him.

"You're miserable." Beomgyu suddenly brings up.

You groan, as you repeatedly refresh your feed. "Gee, thanks Beomgyu. That definitely doesn't make me ten times more miserable."

He lets his head fall back on your bed, looking up at you through an upside down lens, abandoning his phone. “No, like truly miserable. I’ve never seen you so up and dry and…sober. Be young, live a little.”

You narrow your eyes at him, looking past your phone for the first time in a while. “…You talk like you’re 80 years old, about to retire and wallow in self pity, having experienced all there is to life. Thanks Gyu but no thanks.”

“I’m an old soul Y/N.” He says patting his chest, and you roll your eyes. Not necessarily refuting it, it’s his entire personality. “Where’s the chick I used to know anyway. The old Y/N would’ve been over this in a day with a quick hookup rebound.”

You finally put your phone down, staring up your ceiling. He was totally right. Who else would be right about you if not Beomgyu? But you don’t want to think about your old self, or you’d start sobbing again. Not like you were a totally great person, but that person wouldn’t be so stuck on someone. Anything but being the lovesick, doting person you would’ve made fun of just a year ago. God, he really changed you hadn’t he?

You kick your feet, whining, falling into the abyss of treasured memories. “You don’t understand, he was different, he—he was the one, you know?”

He ponders for a bit, room silent, staring at you through his soft lashes, and you think that maybe he’ll give it you; sympathize and understand that grieving was the entire process of a first love. The silence is suffocating when finally, he lets out a light scoff, cutting through it. “No, no I don’t know. Bet you just got soft.”

“God, fuck you Beomgyu.”

He grins his stupid grin that the situation definitely doesn’t call for, “You wish.”

You think if he wasn’t with you through thick and thin for the past four years, you would’ve definitely developed some sort of hatred.

You could visibly notice a lightbulb spark above his head with the way he immediately sits up straight. “Hey, hey wait.”

You tentatively watch as he turns his back away from you, laying both his arms on the soft cushion of your mattress. “I think I might’ve just had the best idea ever. Of the century. The idea of the century.”

“I highly doubt that.” You say, blindly feeling the surface for your phone already.

“Just hear me out,” he whines noticing your eagerness to dismiss him. “But also don’t freak out or anything. Promise me.”

You stare at him, hesitant before you give in to his doe eyes. Sighing, you say: “Okay. I promise I won’t ‘freak’ out. What’s your groundbreaking idea?”

“We should like… fuck.”

Your brows are slow to raise, the rapidness of your blinking at what you think you just heard—no, not think, know. Beomgyu’s voice, loud and clear with his diction, your eyes widen at the final click of it all. Before you know it, you’re reaching for the pillow behind you, flinging it at him with all strength.

It’s like he predicted it prior, dodging one… and then another as you throw all remaining pillows on your bed. Instead of missing with your last one, you decide to hold on to it, and attack him with it. His smug demeanor of successfully dodging everything just a second ago, dissipates as he takes cover for protection. “Are you fucking—are you crazy?!” you yell exapserated, more than awake with your wide eyes.

“Ya! You—you promised you wouldn’t freak out!” When that doesn’t stop your mania with the damn pillow, he decides to lay it all out with as much speed as he can’t seem to escape your wrath. “You want to forget him don’t you? I mean, you should! He dumped you, it’s over! Sulking over him is—Ow! So out of character for you—fuck—I promise a one time fuck would get your mind off him.”

Your pillow is mid air, and Beomgyu opens an eye to peek, hands still in protection mode—you sigh, landing a weak hit on his head before loosening your grip. You do want to forget. You’d do anything to get rid of what you’re feeling. But…

“It—it wouldn’t change anything for me. If that’s a worry. You know that no matter what, you’re my best friend.” He finds his footing, collecting himself, looking at you with intensity you could date back to just a few times over the course of your very long friendship. “Someone I care about. I can’t stand seeing you hurt and not being able to do anything. You know that.”

You bite down on your lip, staring at the familiar boy with his familiar brown bed of hair, and his familiar eyes, lips…How fast did he get you to actually give this a thought? Probably a minute or two. Beomgyu had a way with convincing you to do …anything. “I…know. But what if, what if I’m still head over heels in love with him? What if it doesn’t change anything for me?”

A grin gradually takes over his face, one that is once again, not fitting for the situation. “Why—why are you smiling like an idiot? This is—”

“It’ll change.”

You knit your brows together. “What?”

You don’t notice the way Beomgyu’s hand slowly inched to yours but suddenly, his palm was over your hand, squeezing it just a bit. “Having sex with me is a once in a life time opportunity. You’ll forget him. I promise.”

If you weren’t so lost in his eyes, as cliché as it sounds, you would’ve been completely taken out—probably a joke on his sheer confidence because who just says that? But he’s so …hypnotizing as you don’t even take notice of the ‘okay’ that leaves your lips.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You exhale, “Okay. We’re adults. This won’t matter in a few weeks. Let’s do it.”

Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate for more than a few seconds before he was on your bed, crashing his lips on yours, a brief taste of strawberry lip balm, knocking a breath out of you until he slows down, testing the waters, then he stops, noses brushing against each other as he searches for something in your eyes, breathing already heavy, “Is this weird? Was that weird?”

You gulp looking down on his already glistening lips, and you nod. “The—the situation, not …the kiss. Fucking your best friend is an odd situation. The kiss…the kiss was good.” You ramble, your voice barely a whisper but he catches it anyway as you take notice of a small smile before he’s kissing you again, hands once cupping your cheeks already moving down to your tits, ministrating gently—every bit of his action seemed careful, too careful for what you know of the things your friends had told you in heated rants and swoons.

Half of the dictionary could be used to describe Beomgyu, and promiscuous was not an exclusion. You could probably say you already fucked him with the headache inducing details about what being with him in bed was like. Which is why you’re nervous as hell right now. From what you know, Beomgyu was… a lot. More than you could handle now, after an entire year of keeping yourself to one man.

“Jaehyun was worried about you. Was worried about what you’d do to me.” You blurt out randomly when Beomgyus’ moved to peppering feathery kisses along your jawline. He hums against your skin, then stops for a second to whisper, “He was?”

You could feel the smirk on his lips, opening his mouth a tiny amount to slightly suck on your neck at the process of your words—of course Beomgyu would get an ego boost from this. “Why?”

Beomgyu is practically suffocating with how little space he’s giving you, body flush against flush, your chest heaving the rougher he increasingly gets with his marking, his sly hand down to rub between your thighs, right at your core.

“Said you only wanted to get into my pants—h-ha shit, slow down, slow down Gyu.” You were getting teary eyed by his increased speed, friction against your sweats getting you wetter by the second whenever the pad of his finger teased your slit. “You know he—he asked me to stop hanging around you b-because—”

None of this was new to Beomgyu, your past boyfriends have always been worried about him for the exact reason—that he’d convince you to let him fuck you, because apparently women can’t have male best friends without it being more than platonic. But …you guess you aren’t really proving them any wrong now with the way you were letting him have his way, marking messy purple splotches all over, in hungry predatory manner, getting rougher and rougher by the second. You gasp when he abuses the same spot he just visited a few seconds ago, “Beomgyu!”

“Because?”

He presses on your aching core, pending you with the question. He didn’t seem as happy as he was with his smugness prior. “Because he thinks you’re a sleaze.”

An incredulous— mean chuckle from the back of his throat and suddenly his hand was down your panties, abandoning the long game of teasing in matter of seconds. He doesn’t touch you though, which only proves to make you more insane. “That’s dumb. Do you think I’m a sleaze?” You shiver, his deep voice so close to your ears, breath fanning against your cool skin—your eyes could go sore from how hard you’re shutting them closed.

You refuse to give it all to him, it makes you feel embarrassed and small. A new, foreign feeling you never thought you’d experience with Beomgyu of all people. “I-in some ways, yes.”

Not a satisfying response from you, he clicks his tongue like you were a misbehaving child, “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

You don’t get a chance to retort before you feel the pad of his finger prodding your pussy, then moving to gather your wetness.

Suddenly, he freezes his movement, pulling back from your neck, looking at you with an amused glint to his dark eyes. “Shit, you’re fucking drenched. And I barely did anything—”

You think he’s making fun of you so your cheeks quickly flush red, already putting up walls of defence but then he kisses you in the heat of the moment, wiping your frown away and you’re finding yourself reciprocating without a second thought—the kiss so sloppy and messy, string of saliva connecting your lips when he pulls away out of breath. “Fuck, that’s so hot princess. You’re so hot.” He breathes in awe of the spit—he truly is the biggest perv.

“Spread your legs for me.” he groans, trying to get better access to your pussy. You obey, admittedly a little slow, but who can blame you? It feels embarrassing regardless of who, but it’s ten folds with your best friend. “Moreee.” he whines, and god you wish you could slap him—can he not see that you’re trying?

“Beomgyu—“

Your voice gets cut off, gasping when he takes it upon himself to pull down your sweatpants with a quick swift motion, taking it off completely, revealing your patterned underwear—and god, now you’re hiding your face…everything was so embarrassing. He takes a second to examine the wet dark spot right in the middle, proof to what he felt earlier, but then you kick your feet. “Stop staring freak!” you shriek.

You can see through the cracks of your fingers the smirk he has on, looking at you with so much intensity you think you’d melt. He reaches out to grab your hand and put it down, even through your resistance, you couldn’t match his strength to your dismay. “I wanna see your face. Have to let me see you fall apart on my fingers like a little slut.”

You’re scandalized at his wording, your cheeks once again quickly heating up. But you let him part your timid legs anyway, big hands gripping the softness of your thighs, spreading your legs as much as he possibly could, to the point you felt yourself cramp up. But even with whines of protest he doesn’t ease up—bunching your panties to the side, impatient when finally he inserts a digit—experimental with his movement before you hear him groan out a curse. “You’re so tight holy shit, did he even fuck you?”

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”

Your senses are already overflowing, you could feel his hard on, his erection pressed on your bare skin, you’re hyper aware of the finger inside you—slender and slow with expertise as he pushes in and out, talking to you as if you could respond with anything more than restrained mewls. “Maybe dating him was good, then you had to be monogamous and not whore around with every guy you laid eyes on like you used to.”

“I-I never whored around—shit.” He suddenly speeds up, a merciless grin spread on his face—did he find messing with you funny?

“Yes you did. It was a new guy every…it was weekly, wasn’t it?”

You shake your head at his accusations, tears brimming when his mouth finds it use, suckling harshly on your nipples through your flimsy top—your body extra sensitive with the way you spasm on a singular finger. He pumps in two without warning and you yelp, hand reaching out to grab at his hair. You swear you could cum just from the stretch. “Stop denying it, you’d do anything for dick. I’m surprised you stayed so long with that bitch. Was he any good?”

One thing you won’t do is tell Beomgyu details of your sex life with your ex. You refuse. But Beomgyu is stubborn, and he isn’t one to give up so easily. Especially if he feels like you’re withholding information from him. “Tell me.”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

He raises his eyebrows in mocking shock, “No way. He never made you cum?”

Your nostrils flair from pure embarrassment and shock. How’d he know? You quickly try to control your expressions, masking it to not give him a hint that his guess was right, but he knew you too well. You hate that. Especially now.

“Can’t believe you’re hung up on a man—fuck, baby are you close? Hung up on a man that never made you orgasm—shit,” He breathes, rubbing his clothed dick on your thigh, getting off at the sight of your face. You really are falling apart. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll take care of you.”

You tighten your hold on his hair, feeling yourself get close as you grind down on his fingers, chasing your high, choosing for your sanity to ignore all his sweet talkings.

“Gyu, gyu I-I’m gonna—No—no-why? God, fuck you, you’re such a—such a dickhead!”

Beomgyu just ruined your orgasm by completely taking out his fingers, you could practically cry out of frustration and yet he didn’t seem the least bit sorry. Instead, he makes a show of licking his fingers, the ones he just had in you, swirling his tongue and sucking them clean while making direct eye contact. You cower a little but still keep your eyes on him. Now you aren’t sure if you could stay as bitter.

You blink rapidly to collect yourself, because holy shit, you’re getting weak for…Beomgyu. “Why’d you do that? I was close Gyu.” you say exasperated.

He unbuckles his jeans, “I said I’d take care of you, just trust me.” Zipping down his pants, he’s quick to drop it down to his knees before completely abandoning them on the floor.

He flings his cock out of the restrictions of his boxers and you’re practically drooling at the pretty sight. He isn’t the biggest you’ve seen but he definitely has the girth—his tip leaking pre cum down his length, hands trying to lube it with his spit. “Beomgyu, condom.”

“I don’t have one.” He breathes, already on you as he lays wet kisses down your collarbones before he gets irritated with your shirt and takes it off, revealing your bare tits. “God, you’re so sexy.” He drawls, sucking hickeys all over your chest in hunger.

You wish you didn’t have to, but you resist his touch and in turn he lets out an annoyed whine, his voice vibrating against your exposed skin. “Beomgyu, we can’t—we need a condom.”

He sticks out his bottom lip in a pout, the cutest you’ve seen him this entire day. “I’ll pull out, I promise. Please, I need you right now.”

In that moment of weakness, his tone so needy, as if he really did need you made you feel some sort of power—like you were the hottest, sexiest woman in the world. And so you bite your tongue, and trust Beomgyu to not ruin your life. You’ve done that quite a few times.

“Swear you’ll pull out.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I do.” You say with conviction. “I do, obviously. It’s just-”

“I know. Take a breather for me. Said I’ll take care of you, didn’t I?”

You could feel him lining up to your entrance, his tip prodding your hole, and you’re already getting desperate. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes.” you breathe.

“Stick your tongue out.”

You do, not sure what to expect until Beomgyu spits, letting his saliva slowly fall down in your mouth. “Swallow.” he demands, his low voice making you shiver��dark eyes watching every twitch of your face intensely.

You gulp his saliva down your throat, obeying and suddenly his expression morphs into lust you’ve never been met with before. You don’t even get to process it for longer, bask in the attention you’re getting before he’s pressing your thighs to your body, pushing into you with a deep groan—filling you up to the brim, your cunt not prepared for the aching stretch. You can feel each vein against your walls, you can feel his slight twitching, you can feel everything. “Fuck, fuck you’re made for me. You’re perfect—shit, you’re perfect princess.”

“Gyu—” you cry out, gripping the sheets under you. It was too much, too much for him to already start slamming his hips. “Gyu what—” you’re cut off by your own moan the moment he hits your g-spot, your face scrunched up, hot as you let out lewd sounds with no control of your own, throat strained already. It's not a surprise he manages to find it on his first try, despite it catching you off guard with the sudden wave of pleasure.

“Should’ve fucked you sooner. Get your little pussy molded just for my dick. You would’ve liked that, right princess?” He breathes out in a long winded babble, his hips unrelenting with each thrust, already quickly building up to be in erratic speed. Through your blurry vision you could see his eyes focusing down on the jiggle of your breasts lewdly, drool trickling down the edge of his lips, the brutal slapping sounds of them from his roughness getting his head light with ecstasy. You’re more than aware of what he wanted to do when he lets your legs rest from the ache of angling them so high. Dirty pervert.

You can’t handle him playing with your tits again, you were too sensitive for anything more than you’re getting but you can’t find it in your throat to say anything before Beomgyu gives in to his lust, leaning down to attach his mouth to your sore nipple. Abusing it as he suckles harshly, muffled moans against your breasts.

His pace getting quicker, clearly getting off from sucking your nipples like a dumb baby. It was getting you embarrassingly close, your pussy clenching around his dick. “Princess. My princess is so—mmf—so perfect.”

“Stop calling me that.” You manage to squeak out. Hes been using that nickname the entire time, and though it was easy to ignore everything else, the nickname was affecting you more than you’d like to admit.

He detaches from your tits, slowing his movement, looking up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Huh? Princess? Why?”

“He—he used to.”

He blinks a few times before his lips draw into a sneer, clearly irritated and you’re about to backtrack, but it’s too late. Your eyes fly wide open, breath stricken when he, with no mercy, picks up his speed again, drilling his dick so far into you, you think there’s probably a bulge showing through your stomach—its when you let the tears stream down, let yourself go as he fucks you dumb with each sharp thrust serving as a punishment. But for what exactly? For mentioning your ex? Did he hate him that much?

“You can replace your memories of him with me princess. I know you can do that, I’ll make sure you do. You’re my princess, and I’m the only one who can call you that. Remember that, yea?”

You nod up and down, and he leans down to give your lips a peck, one then two then three until he loses it and it starts getting heated, tongue messily intertwining, spit exchanged in desperate action. Drilling his dick in and out your sopping pussy, squelching pornographic like sounds filling the room—you think you’re screaming at this point, mind too clouded to be fully present. You’ll definitely hear a word or two from your neighbors.

“Fuck princess, are you close?” he hisses, “I’m close too, so close. Tell me when you get there baby, okay?”

You manage to nod, pressure quickly building up

Suddenly you feel him force in a finger in your pussy, stretching you out to unimaginable degrees. “B-beomgyu—I’m cumming, I’m—” your panicked hands at the intense feeling reach out to grab at his chest, crumbling his shirt’s fabric, using the last bit of your strained voice to moan his name, your orgasm so overwhelming you genuinely start seeing white, body shaking as you try to calm yourself down. “F-fuck.” you breathe out.

The way you still clutch onto his arms pushes Beomgyu to his high too, quick to pull out of your gushing pussy before a mistake happened. It takes only two strokes before he’s spurting his seed all over your tummy, biting down a groan, obsessively taking in each inch of your body’s ruined state.

He did this. He ruined you.

The only thing filling the room being the heavy breaths of you both, Beomgyu’s hair plastered onto his forehead from sweat, yours disheveled, a complete mess. Suddenly, a notification ding goes off, and your attention’s snapped to your side. “It’s my phone.” You awkwardly point out, noticing the light before reaching your arm to get it to you.

He doesn’t move from his position, still practically hovering over you. But you try not to focus too much on it, instead taking a quick look at your notification.

Your brows twitch in surprise at seeing the message on your lock screen. Fuck, it’s your ex! Did he want you back? So miraculously? After fucking your best friend?

Without any thought, you unlock your phone, trying to skim where the ellipses left off. It was a long message and—

“We just fucked. Can’t you wait a few minutes before going on your phone— Are you texting Jaehyun?” His warm smile turning to utter rage gets you stuttering.

“No I—well—yes, but—” you fumble on your words, not knowing how to explain—not knowing why you feel like you should explain, but Beomgyu isn’t one to play around clearly, as he snatches your phone from your hand and throws it to god knows where before your body’s turned around like it was nothing to Beomgyu, like you were some ragdoll. Pushing your hips up to have your ass up in the air with your face pushed into the sheets. “B-beomgyu wha..—”

Slap. Your whole body jerks at the impact of his hand, feeling yourself get teary eyed again. “Beomgyu what the hell?” You shriek, trying to squirm from your position, your ass burning. Then you get another slap, and your legs start to shake, bottom lip wobbling at the painful feeling of his rings.

“I promised you I’d make you forget him. Clearly one fuck wasn’t enough to get your mind off that asshole.”

Your panic only lasts a millisecond at feeling his tip for a second time before you’re abusing your throat again at the oversensitivity of having Beomgyu’s dick slam into your pussy, fucking your juices back in. He’s rougher now, ten times rougher. Maybe this was what all your girlfriends were describing to you, the feeling of having Beomgyu’s dick rut into you like wild feverish dog, fucking you like all you are is a pair of limbs, just for him to hound.

You can’t think straight, not a single word coming out of your mouth is intelligible, all slurred together dumbly as he ruthlessly digs his fingers in your hips, helping you find rhythm, your body reacting on its own as it syncs with his thrusts, moving your hips enough for him to let a hand go to the back of your head, further pushing you into the mattress, drool messy staining your white sheets, loud muffled wails filling the room.

“Fuck, you like this don’t you? Getting fucked like a bitch?” your hear him growl. You don’t know what comes out of your mouth, you don’t know anything right now, because you are being fucked like a bitch while thinking like one too, your nose running with your tongue uselessly out like something out of a porno. “Should I breed you like a bitch too? Huh? Will that make your pretty little head forget?”

At that, you cum again, and he sneers, a mean laugh at noticing your orgasm, “You want me to breed you princess? Make you round with my seed?” he drawls each vowel mockingly like you were a dumb kitten and he had to explain a really simple concept—still ramming your cunt, not giving you a fair chance of responding.

That’s how it goes for you’re not sure how long, Beomgyu switching positions to have your leg draped over his shoulder as he fucks you to oblivion, making you orgasm over and over again, before you really feel like you had blacken out at some point only to find yourself waking up to him still going at it—your entire body sore, down to every inch, your nipples especially swollen from all his sucking. He never cums inside you, instead emptying his load all over your body, making you basically a show of his dried semen.

You trust him, even when his tendency to go far never died down no matter how much he got older. “You awake?”

You flutter your eyes open, a dark room, and Beomgyu. His face is abnormally close to yours. “What happened?” your voice comes out very strained, your throat hard to use. Great, you entirely lost your voice.

“Think I might’ve had my balls in…too deep.”

Even a chuckle hurts every bone in your body, holy shit, how were you going to go to work tomorrow?! “Hey, don’t move around too much, I already cleaned you up. Just try to go back to sleep.”

“I don’t feel sleepy. I can’t.”

Beomgyu suddenly giggles, you could make out the cute small thing he does with his lips when he does. “What?” you ask.

“Your voice sounds funny.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. Of course he’d find it funny. Maybe next time you should peg his ass and see how he’d like to not speak for an entire week.

You feel his all too familiar hand laying on your cheek, and you subtly gulp. You don’t know if he heard. He probably did with how close you guys are, noses practically brushing against each other, his breathing all your hearing can pick up. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

You nod, until you realize he might not be able to see you properly. “Yes.”

“Good.”

He takes his hand off your cheek, then turns on his back, folding his arms over his chest, staring up the ceiling. So the room won’t fall into an awkward silence, you say: “I have a question.”

He shuffles a little on the bed, letting out a hum in acknowledgment. “What was the I’m perfect for you thing about? We’re definitely not like, compatible or anything.”

He laughs before he turns his head to you in disbelief. “Are you serious? Is that a serious question?”

You nod, “Do I not sound serious?”

“No, you sound like you just had the best fuck of your life.” You roll your eyes in good nature, though exasperated, you were exposed to too much of his ego in one day. If you had the strength and will to come up with something to level his ego down, you would. “It’s called dirty talk if you must know the term fair maiden.”

“God, you’re so silly, I’m going to sleep.” You withstand your pain to turn your back to him, groaning with each movement. But you can’t escape his wrath it seems, because he almost immediately snakes his arm around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, his heartbeat all you can here against your back. “Can’t I find you perfect? You know, like…my dream girl. My princess.”

You rapidly blink a few times trying to process—past the deep rasp of his tired voice that you found yourself incredibly attracted to— his words and how it brewed big unfamiliar emotions, knowing now you won’t be able to get a blink of sleep after this.

“Can I keep calling you that by the way? It really sticks.”

Oh god, the last thing you’re going to do is self sabotage yourself even more and get yourself in a stickier situation than you already put yourself in. “No, that’s definitely staying in the bedroom.”

a/n: i have no idea how this reads, its basically bare of any editing so if the flow is a little choppy i sincerely apologize, i write at the golden time of 10pm-2am 😭