#I’m just saying like this girl once cut a man from the throat to his groin and would have done it again without hesitation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joelsgoldrush · 4 months ago

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“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!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: mdni - smut 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!!! :)

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st4rbwrry · 5 months ago

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𝒞’𝑀𝐸𝑅𝐸, 𝐵𝑅𝒜𝒯.

aot headcannons + how they handle a brat ft. eren, armin, + onyankopon.

꒰ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 ꒱ ꔫ . . . fem!reader, lowercase intended, nsfw twitter links, aggressive sex, choking, rough play, spanking, dacryphilia, punishment, bondage, oral [f + m.], squirting, praise, all of them are kinda mean but with reason, teasing, pet names dnt feel like listing, minors aren’t allowed! reblogs + comments are appreciated! ♡

EREN YEAGER

let’s just say eren likes to fuck you really hard when you piss him off. i’m talking putting you through the mattress. gotta make you feel his anger. the man will make you gag on his dick until your jaw aches, stating ‘since you like to run your fuckin’ mouth so much, make use of it’. he loves when your pretty lips glide along his dick, holding your head still as he hisses and groans, muttering ‘suck it, c’mon’ while he stuffs your throat with his heavy dick. when you use two hands to stroke him until he’s throwing his head back trying his best not to whimper. his moans get stuck in his throat when you suck him, eyes completely gone and his face shifting in pleasure. and for revenge for putting him in a position where he has to be mean to you in order for you to understand, he’d fuck you hard till you’re gushing all over him. licks his fat tongue up your neck as he moans in your ear and tells you ‘fuckin’ pretty, mama. takin’ that shit so good, girl.’ burying his dick deep into you it’s painfully good. he always loses his stress halfway through, kissing you like you mean the world to him, since you do. but, he’ll definitely make you beg for forgiveness, and beg to cum. ‘i can’t hear you, baby. say it. i wanna hear you. don’t go quiet now. you were talkin’ all that shit earlier so be a big girl and beg me to let you cum.’

ARMIN ARLERT

armin’s a tease at first. he likes to play with you before he fucks you really good, and i mean good. it’s enough for your legs to spasm and your pussy to squirt along his abdomen. he’s gentle when he starts, sucking on your neck, licking on your nipples as he rolls them under the pads of his thumbs. kissing your inner thighs and doing his best to avoid eating your pussy since you’re currently undeserving. your whines and trembles fuel him, and once he’s gotten a taste of you, slicking his thick tongue between your folds and releasing a guttural moan in your pussy, that’s when the demon comes to show. holding you down as you squirm and try to escape, using all of his upper body strength knowing you can’t fight him. armin will not hesitate to fuck you dumb. you’ve been a brat lately, knowing he hated when you sassed him. he’d always tell you ‘we’ll talk later’ and the talk is usually him fucking you straight. he likes to have you in every angle imaginable. loves to stare at your face as you scream his name, yank at the sheets, and even bite into his arm. he’ll grab your face and tell you to ‘watch me fuck you like the bad girl you are.’ kiss you sloppily as he drops his dick into you hard, every pound leaving you gasping for air. that blonde hair on his head covering his dangerous eyes, followed by weak whimpers and whines escaping his throat. ‘too pretty, love. keep suckin’ me deep. i can feel you cumming.’

ONYANKOPON

not the type to play games with you, at all. will cut any attitude you have extremely short. you seem to yap a lot, and he can live that. what he won’t deal with is a grown woman who throws temper tantrums like an adolescent. he’s usually understanding of most things, meaning he can sit you down and talk if needed. but some things just don’t get through that tiny skull of yours. now, now he has to push it into the bed to fuck some respect into you. he gets really deep to make you feel it all. won’t stop until you’re actually crying. he expects apologies, and they flow from your mouth airless. clearly, he won’t give up until he approves a real apology, not just one you spew just to let you cum. ‘told you stop talkin’ to me fuckin’ crazy. ima fuck the shit outta you’ he’ll groan, heat pooling in his stomach. he’s mad as fuck, and you feel the energy. struggling in the fabric he used to tie your wrists behind your back, whining into the pillow as he claps your ass back onto him. the rough baritone of his voice causing your head to spin. when his big hand wraps around your throat, he’ll pull your head to his chest as your back arches lower, swiveling his hips and fucking you quicker. ‘fuck yes, baby. tell daddy how sorry you are. right now.’ and you’ll tell him, because at this point you didn’t have a choice. his heavy hand lands numerous hits to your ass, biting his lip as you clench around his dick, drawing an orgasm from him sooner than yourself. then he’ll give your pussy some sloppy kisses after because he feels bad for making you so sore. <3

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mattsstarlet · 13 days ago

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fully introducing…dealer!matt and goodgirl!reader

in which…your friend brings you along to a trap house party, where you meet the dealer himself.

warnings: mentions of drugs, alcohol, and suggestive content. no smut.

note: my first ever prompt is here! i’m not the best writer so i really do hope u enjoy.

your heart thumped the same rhythm as the loud bass blasting off the walls. as you walked into the trap house, the more you saw, the tighter your hand gripped your friend.

it was much wilder than you had ever imagined, or maybe it was because parties weren’t your thing. you’d rather be cooped up in your cozy bed with your nose stuck in some romance book.

the lights are down low, and a small disco ball flashes colors, matching the pace of whatever rap song is playing. you scrunch your nose as you smell a whiff of weed and alcohol lingering in the air.

a bunch of rowdy boys huddle up over a table, playing some sort of game involving alcohol, though it looks like they’ve done a lot of drinking and less playing. as you walk in further, each corner is busy with horny couples sticking their tongues down each other's throats.

your friend looks back at you, tightening her hold as you two make your way past a busy crowd. she’s only been here a few times, but she’s already familiar with the layout, having some sort of relationship with a guy who lives here.

squeezing past the sweaty bodies, your friend pulls you towards the direction of a couch. one of the guys sitting there raises his head, a small grin appearing on his face.

“what’s up, baby?” he lifts himself off the couch and snakes his arm around her waist. “y’made it.”

“hi,” her voice soft and gentle. she motions to you with a wave, signaling you to get closer. “chris, this is my friend and roommate.”

he nods, “s’nice to meet you. heard a lot about you actually,” he smirks.

chris goes on, joking about how much of a yapper your friend is. you on your end, block out their conversation, distracted by the items on the coffee table.

teeny tiny bags of colored pills lay on the flat surface, as well as lines of white powder and expired credit cards. in the middle, cold bottles of high-quality alcohol sit next to an ashtray with stones of a certain green plant and cut-up brown paper.

a tattooed arm brings you back to focus when it reaches over, picking up a pre-rolled joint and a lighter. your eyes shift towards the owner, chewing on your bottom lip as you take in the mysterious man.

the first thing you noticed was his stubble, and how well it defined his sharp jaw. the messy hair look makes it seem like it was made for him. it just fell perfectly into place around his sculptured face.

“y’starin’ mad hard, sweetheart.” his low, husky voice snapped you out of your daze. “y’tryna buy or… jus’ like whatcha see?” a slight smirk appeared as he finally pulled his gaze from the joint to your wide eyes. he glances at your pouty lips, licking his own before meeting your gaze once again.

you shake your head; the thought of trying pills or weed alone makes your skin crawl. it’s no secret that you’ve at least tried alcohol, but then again, it was just a tiny sip.

“oh, no thank you... I—I don’t do that,” you say nervously.

he chuckles lowly, “of course you don’t…” he mutters. he looks around, noticing chris had taken off with your friend to most likely fool around in his bedroom.

matt takes in your nervous state; he shouldn’t care if you'll be fine on your own or not. the drugs in his system have already been fucking with his head, but the thought of a pretty innocent girl being all on her own didn’t sit right with him—or maybe he was already making you his… and matt hates when people take what’s his.

“sit. lemme keep you some company, yeah? you...your uh friend dipped. can’t have a quiet little angel all by herself in a place like this.”

you clear your throat as you slowly make your way next to him. being this close to him makes your head foggy; he’s intimidating, and the scent of his spicy cologne mixed with a hint of weed doesn’t help either. he’s got this…thing that creates an unfamiliar warm fuzzy feeling in your core.

you play with the hem of your skirt as you sit inches away from him, rubbing your slick thighs together. the action doesn’t go unnoticed by matt, his imagination running wild, wanting to throw you over his shoulder and into his bed. his cock hard as a rock just imagining your pouty face as he eats your sweet cunt out.

matt runs a hand through his brown hair, trying to shake off the dirty things he wants to do to you. he places his rough, clasped hand on your knee. it’s light and gentle, yet it doesn't help the growing fire in your tummy.

“easy, sweetheart… i'm gonna be honest, angel,” he rubs your thigh in an up-and-down motion, going as high as where the end of your skirt touches his fingertips.

“that thing you’re doin’… ‘s’makin’ me think some things… naughty things.”

you stop the action immediately, your skin filling up with goosebumps as his hand moves to your inner thigh, not that close where you need him but close enough that matt could feel the heat. glancing at him with those big eyes, you mutter a little ‘sorry.’

matt squeezes your thigh, his mind too caught up in the way you’re nervously biting on your bottom lip, “relax, babydoll. jus’ sit back and be a good girl, yeah? i got you, angel.”

he smirks slyly when you nod again. swallowing thickly, you relax your shoulders and sit back. matt’s hand moves higher, up your soft skin when your skirt rises. “there we go, gooood girl,” he praises, his smirk growing wider. he leans in, his hot breath fanning your ear, “y'know...i think we’re gonna get along jus’ well, angel.”

interact under this post to be notified when i upload posts like this!

a/n: been in my drafts for so long, i can’t keep hiding there. also feel free to send me some inbox’s about these two!

TAGS: @mbbsgf

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cameronsprincess · 6 months ago

Text

been thinking about your boyfriend owing rafe and he takes you as payment when your man can’t pay up…

CW: male receiving oral, praise, degradation, hair pulling, rafe forces your boyfriend to watch him throat fuck you.

daydreams 𓆩♡𓆪 main masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 taglist form

you’d known your boyfriend fucked up the moment he came home two weeks ago. he’d looked terrified, and his all around vibe was just off.

but when you’d ask him what was wrong, he’d brush you off and say “nothing, all’s good.”

of course, you should’ve pressed harder, but you trusted him, you didn’t think he’d actually gotten himself into real trouble.

but oh how wrong you’d been.

you knew trouble was brewing when rafe cameron had arrived at you and your boyfriends shared apartment, demanding to see jake.

“he’s not home!” you’d lie, hoping rafe would leave and just deal with it later.

rafe would glare at you, his blue eyes dark, and void of any light at all.

“now sweetheart, why would you lie to me like that, huh?”

“i-i’m not lying… he isn’t here.”

rafe would push his way past you and into your apartment like he owned the place. “jake! i know you’re here, bud. come on out.”

you stand by the front door, frozen in fear and unsure of what to do in this situation. you should call the cops, tell them rafe broke in, but that wouldn’t work, he had pretty much the entire police force in his back pocket. you could try and catch him by surprise, find something that would easily take him down, but then there’s thoughts of how badly he’d harm you if you failed at knocking him out..

jake emerges from the bedroom, hands held up in surrender.

“i don’t have the money… yet. i swear, i’ll have it in two-”

rafe tsks, shaking his head at your boyfriend. “i told you, jake. you had two weeks, or i’d take something else from you.” he pauses, his head turning and cold blue eyes landing on your face before he faces jake once more, “didn’t i?”

you hear your boyfriend’s sharp intake of air, your eyes finding his from across the room. you tilt your head to the side, silently asking him what rafe means by “i’d take something else from you.”

“j-jake? what.. what does he mean by that?”

rafe breathes out a laugh, “oh, you didn’t tell her our deal? i don’t know why that doesn’t surprise me, you always were a fucking coward.”

once more, you eye your boyfriend suspiciously while shouting, “what the fuck does he mean, jake! what the fuck do you owe him?”

jake opens his mouth to speak, but rafe quickly cuts him off.

“he owes me two grand. but, he agreed to let me have… something else if he didn’t have my money in that time frame.”

your eyes find rafe’s, “what… what does he owe you?” you ask, though you’re sure you already know.. and you don’t like the thought.

rafe smiles, and you swear it’s the first real smile you’d ever seen on the cameron boy’s face.

“you.” he replies calmly.

your eyes nearly pop out of your skull, your mouth hangs open as you try and take in what’s been said. your boyfriend offered you up as payment if he couldn’t scrape together the two grand. why the fuck did he owe rafe two grand? what the fuck was happening?

“m-me?”

rafe takes two long strides toward you, his right hand reaching out to caress your cheek, “yes, you. and now, it’s time he pays up.”

rafe gently pushes the front door shut, locking it before he places his large hands on your hips. natural instinct has you backing away from his touch, but the look in his eyes has you crushing that thought quickly.

“jake here is gonna watch while his pretty girlfriend chokes on my cock,” he pauses, turning his head to look at your boyfriend who stands fuming across the room. “isn’t that right, jake?”

you barely hear it over the harsh sounds of his breathing, but jake mumbles a low and angry “yes.”

“good boy, see you’re learning.”

rafe turns to face you again, his eyes softening slightly. “now, you’re gonna be a good girl and get on your knees for me, right? no fighting?”

you glance at jake and then rafe again. jake had fucking offered you up like a fucking object, and as much as you didn’t want to do this, you wanted to see jake suffer the way he was making you suffer. though, was sucking rafe cameron’s cock really suffering? he was gorgeous.. he had this aura that drew women in, and even though he was a complete fucking dick, you wouldn’t mind doing this, right?

without giving it another thought, you slowly lower yourself to your knees, your eyes never leaving rafe’s in the process.

“such a good girl, aren’t you?” rafe praises, his large hands working his belt before working his zipper and button of his jeans next.

he drops his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles before he pulls his boxers down next. you eyes go wide at the sight in front of you. long, hard and thick, already dripping with precum, just waiting to have your lips wrapped around it. he was the biggest dick you’d ever seen in your life, and thoughts of him shoving it down your throat or into your pussy had your thighs slick with need, your clit throbbing.

rafe grips his thick shaft in his right hand, his left finding home on the back of your head. he slaps the swollen, dripping tip against the seam of your lips, prompting you to open up for him. you quickly obey, opening your mouth and allowing him to slowly push the tip inside.

the taste of his precum coats your tongue, a low hum of appreciation pulled from your throat. rafe smiles down at you, “your girl gets turned on by sucking dick, that’s hot, jake. why’ve you been hiding her from everyone else? didn’t you know sharing is caring?”

you hear a low growl come from your boyfriend, and you risk taking a peek at him from behind rafe’s tall frame. jake’s fists are balled by his sides, his chest heaving up and down as he keep his eyes on the back of rafe’s head.

rafe’s hand tightens in your hair, pulling your focus back on him. “don’t pay attention to him, pay attention to me. be a good girl, and suck my cock like the good little slut i know you are.”

you nod your head the best you can, placing your hands in your lap as you begin to push your head down, taking his long, thick length down your throat. his tip kisses the back of your throat, pulling a small gag from you before you slowly pull back, strings of spit now coating his dick and pulling with your lips.

you suck in a sharp breath through your nose before you begin bobbing your head up and down, licking and sucking every last inch of him. rafe groans, his hand tightening in your hair again and pushing himself all the way down your throat and holding you there.

tears blur your vision and you shift on your knees. rafe slowly drags your head back before ramming himself back down your throat.

the room is filled with your gurgling sounds and rafe’s grunts of pleasure and praises.

“taking my cock so well, i might just have to keep you for myself.”

rafe’s harsh thrusts grow sloppier, his dick twitching in your mouth before his salty, warm cum coats your tongue and throat.

he slowly slips himself from your mouth, his thumb rubbing your cheek softly as he says, “good girl.”

he quickly tucks himself back into his boxers, working his jeans up his legs and fastening his belt while he turns to face your boyfriend who is now red with anger. “next time you owe me money, i suggest you pay up, or else i’m taking that sweet cunt next.”

i really had no clue how to end that? lmaoooo. but rafe motherfucking cameron. what a man. tbh, i woulda left with him, fuck my sorry broke ass bf who offered me as payment. is that wrong of me to say? oh well.😌 it’s rafe cameron, its allowed.🖤 alsooooo, this came out a lot longer than i originally expected but oh well🫠

#₊˚ෆ daydreams #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron brainrot #rafe cameron fic

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xetlynn · 24 days ago

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Arcane Imagines- Viktor

Nosy Coworkers

[arcane] [main page]

Prompt: this is a modern au where the characters are high school teachers. You and Viktor have been dating for 7 months and haven’t told anyone. Jayce and Vi are just now putting things together and decide to spy on you two to see if they’re correct. (GN reader, no pronouns used.)

“You want to use your lunch time to spy on our colleagues because you two have a hunch that they’re dating?” Mel asks with a raised brow beside Caitlyn that laid the same confused expression. “Well I just don’t understand why they’d hide it if they are!” Jayce exclaims, leaning against his desk. “Maybe because of this exact reaction?” The dark blue-haired woman rolls her eyes.

Violet scoffs at her wife, standing up. “Or maybe they want us to figure it out on our own. Like a test of our intelligence. You guys know how Viktor is with his… love for.. Um- You know what I’m talking about.” She stammers, eyeing her friend to back her up. Jayce nods his head but is quickly interrupted by the two girls disagreeing.

“Vi, I love you but this is childish even for the both of you.” Caitlyn sighs out, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What’s childish?” A voice pierces the room, startling the four. They looked to the doorway to see you standing there with a lopsided grin.

Jayce and Violet sweat at the sight of you, looking back to their partners with fear in their eyes. Mel presses her lips together attempting not to laugh. “These two had some bright idea to convince the principal to let teachers wear pajamas to work whenever we want to.” Caitlyn lies straight through her teeth. Even though it was a stupid lie, somehow you didn’t question. Just letting out a quiet chuckle at what you were told.

Jayce and Vi’s shoulders drop in relief. “I wouldn’t mind it if Principal Heimerdinger did allow that but you’d also have to argue with Vice Hoskel. Doubt that will go well.” You grimace, remembering the last time you tried speaking with that man about getting ink for the printer.

“Jayce, here are those pencils you needed, by the way.” You drop three packs of the wooden sticks upon his unorganized desk.

“Thanks, [Name]. You’re the best. As usual. So smart… funny… Any guy would be lucky to be with you!” He nudges your arm with a bit too much enthusiasm. You furrow your eyebrows, glancing at Mel who hides her face in her hands and shaking her head. Caitlyn bites the inside of her cheeks. “Uh, ha ha… Yeah I guess so.” You rub the back of your neck. Violet was even surprised at her best friend’s stupidity.

“I’m um I have somewhere to be for lunch.” You clear your throat, excusing yourself rather abruptly. Not knowing what else to do. The three girls burst into laughter once you're out of earshot. “Dude!! That was rough!” Violet slaps Jayce’s back who was mentally cursing at himself for what he just said to his supposed coworker's partner… who was also his coworker.

You sat alongside your boyfriend of 7 months at your usual cafe. Coming here frequently for lunch dates. Your hand held his as you took a bite of your sandwich. Viktor was looking over his upcoming units, figuring out the next works for his students.

“Mm, Jayce said something really weird!” You speak up, cutting the comfortable silence. Viktor hums in response, taking his attention away from his papers to you. He momentarily takes his hand from yours to wipe the aioli from your sandwich off of your cheek, licking it. It leaves you stunned briefly.

“What did he say, love?” Viktor smirks at your expression, you shake your head going back on track to your recent statement. “I gave him those pencil packs that we bought last night and when he said thank you he told me that any guy would be lucky to be with me.” Your face scrunched as your recalled what happened earlier.

“He isn’t wrong, but what a strange thing to say.” Viktor doesn’t seem entirely muddled by their coworkers choice of words. His fingers trail down to your knee giving it a squeeze. “I know, right!?” You lift up your mug of coffee. “Can you check if it’s too hot, Vikkie?” You bring it up to his lips, he leans to the cup swiping the roasted liquid.

“Too sweet.” He sticks his tongue out in disgust, you playfully roll your eyes. “Is it good for me or not?” You pout and he snickers. “It’s the perfect temp, love.” He goes back to his paperwork and you connect your hands back together, his weaker leg resting over your calf that you stuck out on purpose.

“Thank you for your service.” You peck his cheek. The both of you didn’t even notice the pink-haired girl wearing sunglasses and a beanie. And the big-lug on the other side of the cafe wearing a stupid blond wig.

“Of course.” He murmurs, suddenly feeling a buzz in his pocket. “Who’s that?” You nosily inquire, resting your head on his shoulder. “Probably an email.” He ignores the device.

Jayce deadpans, in disbelief due to being ignored. Sending another text but this time to your phone.

You didn’t bring it though, leaving it in your classroom in the top drawer of your desk. “Do you think Jayce and Vi know finally?” You suddenly question your boyfriend, still leaning on him as you ate your food. “It’s a little surprising that they haven’t already, you’re very touchy.” He pokes fun at you. “You love it~” You lift your hands up, showing them off to prove your point.

Jayce has an upset expression, being ignored by you as well. Neither of you are even peeking at your phones. He stands up from his spot, Vi silently freaking out the closer he gets to the happy couple. The pair had agreed not to confront them but the brunette couldn’t stop himself.

His body is already standing in front of your table. The two of you glance up at him, you give a smile. “Hey, Jayce! I didn’t know you came here!” You cheerfully say, lifting your head from Viktor’s shoulder. He frowns at the loss of warmth. Jayce is confused by your lack of… shock? Not pulling away from one another.

“Is that Vi?” Viktor points towards the window tables. The girl melted into her seat in embarrassment. You wave at her, motioning for her to join the conversation.

“You two are dating?”

“Mhm, for 7 months.” You proudly state.

Violet and Jayce’s jaws slack open. “Why did you never tell us!?” Vi’s eyes were wide with curiosity. “You never asked.” Viktor shrugs his shoulders and you giggle. “We didn’t think it needed to be a conversation. Keeping it professional at work.” You explain further.

Jayce and Vi sit in the booth across from the both of you, basically inviting themselves. “We’re in relationships, we could’ve been going on triple dates!” Jayce pretends to be angry. Viktor scrunches his nose. “Not happening.”

“Awe, why not?” Vi juts out her bottom lip. “Well, you two were spying on us. Were you not?” Your partner gives them a straight-faced look. Their faces begin to heat up. “No- we- What? No we weren’t.” Jayce shakes his head, disagreeing with that unbelievable accusation.

“Why do you have a wig in your pocket?” You lean over to the side, calling attention to the blonde fake hair he had stuffed into his pant pocket. “Vi’s wearing sunglasses and a beanie inside a coffee shop.” Viktor blinks. She rips them off, her hair lifting from the static.

“Okay, whatever, you caught us.” She grumbles, sneakily snatching your sandwich and taking a bite of it. You glare at her to which she just mumbles out a half-assed apology.

For the rest of your guys’ lunchtime they asked questions, curious about your relationship. You were more than happy to answer everything as Viktor only butted in a few times when their little interrogation got too personal or inappropriate.

And once it was time to leave they were rushing to tell everyone that they had figured it out even though mostly everybody knew already.

Mel and Caitlyn especially. They were actually one of the first people to find out in the first few weeks of you two dating.

Their lovers were just a little… slow.

------------------------

I think I'm going to make an actual story of this au with Viktor as the love interest if anyone would be interested in that!

Edit- I made a college student au ☝️

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smileysuh · 11 months ago

Text

Love, Cupid

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.”

tw/cw. unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), pussy worship, love drunk Mingyu, fingering, big dick mingyu, pussy stretching, hand-holding during sex, Mingyu is somewhat subby/switchy, mainly missionary to accommodate for his wings, sensitive wings, hand job, mention of birth control, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, etc… I pet names: (his) big guy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.4k

🍭 aus. mythical/roman/cupid au, soulmate au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this man has me in a chokehold

Prologue - the accident

“I’m still not really sure why we needed a new cupid,” Mingyu confesses, toying with the elegantly curved, white bow in his hands. “But I guess if anyone is going to teach you how to do this, it should be me.”

It’s no secret that out of the twelve high council cupids, Mingyu is the one who is most obsessed with love. He lives, breathes and dreams of it. Every second of the immortal man’s life is dedicated to love, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Out of all of Venus’s children, Mingyu is the favorite, and he has no worries that training this new cupid will lead to competition in that regard. Chan seems nice enough, but Mingyu can already tell that the kid has a lot to learn when it comes to the duty of being a matchmaker.

“Our arrows are the most powerful weapon on earth,” Mingyu explains, hovering with his new younger brother over the busy city street. They each have large angelic wings that keep them aloft, and extra cupid magic makes it so they’re invisible to the human eye. Mingyu’s favorite place to people-watch is from the sky, it gives him a bird’s eye view, and an easy way to trail his targets without anything getting in the way.

“I thought Jupiter’s lightning bolt was the most powerful weapon on earth,” Chan muses.

“It’s not.”

“Neptune’s trident then.”

Mingyu lets out a deep sigh. “Are you here to learn or not?”

“I just want you to explain it to me. How is your bow and arrow the most powerful weapon?” Chan acts as if he’s just looking for information, but Mingyu gets the sneaking suspicion that the young cupid is toying with him. He seems to be cut from the same cloth as the likes of Jeonghan and Soonyoung, who identify as more mischievous and tricksy than most deities supposedly enamored with love.

“Love is the most powerful thing on Earth,” Mingyu states, “and our tools are the makers of love, for humans anyways. Do you know how many wars were started in the name of love? How many people have died for love? Love is the most important and powerful emotion. Without it, humanity has nothing.”

“I’m still not sure I agree with you on this,” Chan sighs.

“You don’t have to agree with me, because I’m right, and I know I’m right. Now shut up and watch,” Mingyu shushes the younger cupid, pointing at the street below. “Do you see that human?”

Chan flies closer to Mingyu, angling his head toward the elder cupid’s large bicep, looking down his arm to the point of his finger. “The pretty girl?”

“Yes, exactly! Her!”

“Are we going to shoot her?”

“Yes, but we can’t just shoot her randomly- when we shoot her, she’ll fall in love with the first person she sees- the first person she looks at, and we can’t have her falling in love with just anyone on the street. That would be very irresponsible of us. Once shot, a soul connection forms- our arrows can never miss, and they can never be shot nonchalantly.”

“Or what?”

“Or it would be very, very bad, and as I said, irresponsible, and just… not good. Our job is to find a good match for as many humans as possible, and we can do this by looking at their auras. You see how her aura is pink?” God, Mingyu loves looking at your aura. You’ve got one of the prettiest auras he’s ever seen, and Mingyu’s been around for an extremely long time. “Each aura means something different. Pink souls are romantics, they’re soft. Pinks do best with other pinks, other pinks make them the most fulfilled. They can also manage a red, as they’ll draw on each other’s mutual passions. White auras are also suitable for pinks.”

“Yeah, I know about arua colour.,” Chan rolls his eyes. “Blues work best with blues, they can also do well with greens or purples. Greens do best with yellows, greens or blues. Purple does blue or red. I’m not in primary school.”

Mingyu has no clue how old the new cupid is. It’s a very human joke to make- mentioning primary school. Cupids are born, sure, but they age differently than humans, faster. Mingyu supposes that as the newest cupid, maybe Chan is a representation of the times- but if he starts bringing out Gen Z humor and saying things like “this is lit” while shooting his marks, Mingyu might just have a heart attack.

“These days, pink can be a rare aura to find in men,” Mingyu admits. “I’ve considered a few red auras for her- but she’s so soft, I wouldn’t want her to be overwhelmed. Reds are prone to anger, and a pink can soften them out, but a red aura will always be red, and I don’t think I want that for her.”

“Are you always this wrapped up in the matches you make?” Chan asks. “This shit seems easy- I see an orange aura, I match them with an orange, yellow, or red. I see a pink, I match her with a pink, white or red. It’s not that serious.”

“How could it be anything but serious!?” Mingyu groans. “I told you, our arrow is the most dangerous weapon in the world- you can’t just go around shooting people randomly!”

“But you haven’t actually explained what would happen if I did,” the new cupid points out.

“I told you, it’s irresponsible.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean?”

“It means bad things would happen!”

“Bad things like what, though?”

Mingyu loves love. He’s a soft cupid. But for the love of Venus, he’s beginning to want to strangle Chan.

Instead of answering, Mingyu’s gaze finds you again. Chan doesn’t have to take this seriously, Mingyu’s on a mission to find you a soulmate, and he’ll stop at nothing-

“Ouch!” Mingyu flinches, tearing his eyes from you and grabbing at his arm, where an arrow is protruding from his bicep. The cupid’s jaw drops, and he looks to the younger mischief maker.

“Oops?” Chan shrugs.

“Why did you do that!?” Mingyu screams, tearing the arrow out and covering the wound before it begins to drip his golden immortal blood.

“I wanted to see what would happen if I randomly shot a couple without doing research. She’s pink. You’re the pinkest soul I’ve ever even seen- it’s a good match, no?” Chan grins. “Like… what’s the worst that could happen?”

Mingyu can’t even speak. He can’t find the words.

Never, in the history of the world - as far as Mingyu knows it - has one cupid shot another, let alone with the intention of binding their soul to a mortal’s.

But to be completely fair, Mingyu can’t even find it within himself to be mad at Chan. For one, he should have never given the new cupid his own bow and arrow, and maybe more importantly- Chan might have been right in binding the two of you. Because holy shit, you’ve got the prettiest soul Mingyu’s ever seen, and he’s been hesitant to match you up with someone, worried they’d be unworthy-

What’s a better fit for your pretty pink aura than his own vibrant magenta self?

One - the cupid council

“And then…” Mingyu looks around at the council of Cupids, taking a deep breath as he gets to the climax of the report, “Chan shot me.”

“He shot you?” Seungcheol grins, adjusting in his golden throne as he looks at the two immortals in the center of the room.

“With an arrow,” Mingyu clarifies. “Yeah.”

The eldest cupid stifles laughter, lifting a hand to half cover his mouth as he giggles and looks around at the others. Jeonghan meets the eldest’s gaze, also grinning. There are mixed reactions from others, and it’s Soonyoung of all people who stands up as if this whole thing is blasphemy, declaring, “Take the kid’s arrows away!”

“Why did this kid even get made,” Jihoon groans, rubbing his temples in annoyance.

“Hey!” Chan declares, offended at the notion of him being a useless creation from their godly mother.

“Seungkwan,” Seungcheol waves a hand, “take his arrows away.”

“Wait, no, I earned these!” Chan holds his bow and quiver close to his chest, hiding behind Mingyu when one of the other cupids gets closer to relieve him of his weapons.

“You shot an elder cupid,” Seungcheol says dismissively. “How does that count as earning your bow and arrow, or for that matter, your wings.” The eldest eyes the small white protrusions that flutter behind Chan, who shudders at the idea of them being taken away along with his cupid tools.

“Okay, everyone relax,” Jeonghan sighs, standing from his throne to address the room. “This isn’t Chan’s fault. I’d heard Mingyu was having trouble with a mark, being indecisive- and I wasn’t the only one who heard about it. This instruction came from Mother herself. Chan was just following orders. He has earned his bow and arrow, as well as his wings.”

“This order came from Mother?” Seungcheol sits up in his chair, jaw-dropping.

Venus is generally very hands-off with her sons. The idea that she’d heard about Mingyu’s predicament, and stepped in with an idea like this- well, it’s completely abnormal, and it’s clear that everyone on the cupid council is shocked by the revelation.

“She said something along the lines of… ‘Mingyu loves love, and it’s time he experiences it for himself.’” Jeonghan waves a hand nonchalantly, as if this is an everyday occurrence.

“What were you doing with Mother?” Wonwoo asks, and it’s clear in his tone that he’s not entirely trusting of the elder, more mischievous cupid.

“She has favorites, you know,” Jeonghan grins. “To Mingyu, she gifted love, to me, she gifted the role of messenger.”

“That’s some gift,” Seungcheol scoffs, but Mingyu gets the sense that Seungcheol wishes he’d been the one chosen to be privy to this information. “So Mother wants Mingyu to do what? Seduce a human?”

“Like it will be hard?” Jeonghan lets out a barking laugh. “This is our Mingyu we’re talking about. If anyone can seduce a human, it’s him.”

Two - the first meet

“Ok, but what if you shoot her too?” Mingyu suggests as he and Chan follow you from a distance, flying through the clear evening sky while you head home from work.

“Why don’t you shoot her?” Chan retorts.

“Jeeze,” Mingyu rolls his eyes at the newness of his sidekick. “You shot me, so I’m bonded to her now, which means only you can make her second connection. It’s a rule to make sure cupids don’t get in each other’s way. You shot me to fall for her, and if I shot her to fall for anyone else, that would lead to unrequited love, which isn’t fun for anyone.”

“A rule? What would happen if you tried to shoot her though? I mean, unless you and all the other cupids constantly communicate about your marks, there’s no way to know which human belongs to which cupid, is there?”

“What’s with you and breaking rules?” Mingyu sighs, rubbing at his temples. “Listen, I’m not testing fate again… also, most cities are split into small zones. Cupids stick to their zones.”

“Humans don’t though,” Chan points out.

“I’m not talking about this with you anymore.”

“Okay, suit yourself.”

“So will you shoot her for me?”

“Mmmm,” Chan makes a face. “I don’t think so.”

“What?!” Mingyu stops flying, staring at the cupid that he’s supposed to be training. “But… but I’m your teacher, and I’m telling you to shoot her for me!”

“That would be too easy though, right?” Chan flashes a grin. “Plus- that would be an abuse of power, Mingyu. You’re in love with her now, so telling me to force her to fall for you isn’t very fair, now is it?”

“I-” Mingyu bites at his tongue. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Well… we know I’m best for her. It wouldn’t be an abuse because we know I’ll treat her right.”

“The thing is…” Chan lets out a yawn, “I’m still not convinced.”

“So you expect me to just go and talk to her?”

“Yeah?” The younger cupid shrugs. “You’re supposed to be some sex god, aren’t you?”

“No one’s ever called me that…” Mingyu can feel his skin heating at the notion. “I’m a love cupid, not a sex god.”

“Same thing,” Chan scoffs. “Just go talk to her. Come on, follow me.” He takes a nose dive, approaching the ground at a speed that makes Mingyu worry for his safety- only for Chan to land like a pro, waving at him to hurry up.

With a groan, Mingyu follows the younger cupid, his feet touching down onto the pavement of the crowded street.

“You can’t go talk to her looking like this,” Chan explains, looking Mingyu up and down.

As immortal beings, they’re impervious to the temperatures of the evening. Dressed in a cream-coloured toga, Mingyu stands out amongst the jackets and hats worn to protect human skin from the cold. “Give me a sec,” Mingyu sighs, using some cupid magic to transform his outward appearance, conjuring an outfit he thinks might draw you in. “How’s this?”

“A suit? Seriously?” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Suits are in!” Mingyu insists.

“Yeah, if you want to look like a sugar daddy.”

“Maybe she wants a sugar daddy?” Mingyu suggests.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some human expert? She’s a pink soul, Mingyu, how many pink souls really value money over personality?”

“So you know more about humans than I do now?” Mingyu can’t believe what he’s hearing out of his ward’s mouth.

“I think love is blinding you, dude,” Chan says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s expensive silk tie. “You’re pretending to be someone you’re not.”

“I’m rich,” Mingyu insists.

“Sure, but you’re not a sugar daddy, you’re a cupid.”

Mingyu scoffs. “So what would you want me to wear?”

“Blue jeans, maybe a hoodie, something that screams ‘make me your boyfriend.’”

Mingyu has to concede that Chan might be onto something, but he refuses to admit it out loud. In fact, Mingyu buries deeper into his conviction that you’ll like the suit. “This outfit is staying,” he states.

“Fine,” Chan shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

With one final grin and giggle at his own double entendre, Chan pushes Mingyu roughly, causing him to fall back and bump directly into you. The rough contact jolts Mingyu into a corporeal form, putting him fully into your visibility as you steady yourself and blink up at him.

“Oh, uh… excuse me?” You’re a little stunned- but Mingyu supposes that's what happens when a man appears out of thin air.

“No, that was my fault,” Mingyu assures you quickly. “I uh… two left feet.”

“Right…” You look down, then back up at Mingyu, giving him a soft smile before stepping past him to continue on with your night.

Mingyu watches you in shock, then he pulls himself out of it, rushing to follow you. “I uh- I should make it up to you!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave a hand.

“But I do worry about it,” Mingyu insists, putting himself in front of you this time. “Here,” he conjures a flower from behind his back, holding it out to you, “Something to say sorry.”

You stop, staring up at him and then down at the rose. “You just happen to have that?” you ask quizically. “Were you trying to bump into me or something?”

“No, I just had the flower.” Mingyu would be sweating if he was a being who could sweat.

“Sure you did,” you laugh. “Look, I’m sure whatever girl you actually had that flower for would like it more than me.”

“I swear, it’s for you- look, forget the flower,” Mingyu tosses it onto the ground. “There must be some way I can make this up to you.”

“Dude, you bumped into me on the street, we’re good.”

Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say, so he simply says, “Please?”

You let out a sigh. “If I give you my number, will you let this go?”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you have a pen?”

Mingyu conjures one in his pocket, pulling it out to give it to you. When you take the pen, you grab his wrist, pulling his palm close so you can scrawl across it.

The cupid watches your every action, etching it into his memory. You’re so lovely, your pretty pink aura wrapped around you like a warm halo. When he takes in a deep breath, he can smell the touch of roses in the air, a lover-girl scent-

“There,” you sigh, releasing his hand. “Now I really have somewhere to be.”

“Okay,” Mingyu murmurs, holding his palm close. “Have a good night.”

“You too, big guy,” you say, laughing to yourself as you brush past him.

It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize he never got your name and vice versa. He’s tempted to rush after you, only for a hand to clap down on his shoulder.

“Dude,” Chan grins, “that was embarrassing to watch. You have like, zero rizz.”

Three - the date

Mingyu is doing his best. He’d texted you a safe amount to plan your date. He’d picked you up in an expensive car, held doors open for you, and now, you’re eating at one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.

Even so, Mingyu can tell that something is off with you. As you pick at the appetizer, Mingyu finally gets the courage to ask what’s wrong.

“You want the honest truth?” you laugh, leaning back in your chair.

“Always.” Mingyu puts down his fork and knife, focusing on you completely.

“I’m thankful for the date,” you start. “Taking me somewhere nice is really sweet of you and everything, it’s just… I don’t know. I think lots of men these days think all girls want is money. As nice as this is- as nice as your car is, and this restaurant, I don’t think I’m the kind of girl that fits with this vibe.”

“You’re not?”

You shake your head. “You’re clearly a guy that’s well off, and I’m happy for you about that, but… I feel like when guys take me to nice places, they always expect something in return. There’s this expectation that when money gets put down, the girl has to put out too, just… in other ways.”

“Other ways? Like what?”

You scoff, giving him a look. “You know what other ways.”

Except Mingyu doesn’t know, because he’s never actually been on a date, especially not with a human. He has no idea what sort of expectations are normal, especially in your mundane world. As a cupid, he sets up the matches, but he doesn’t really follow along with the journey and see what his marks get up to after being shot with his arrow.

“Can I be honest too?” Mingyu asks after a moment of contemplation.

“Of course.”

“I uh…” He picks his words carefully. “I don’t really date often. So… whatever expectations you think I might have, just know that I don’t have any. I just want to get to know you. That’s it. I promise.”

You stare at him, and Mingyu gets lost in your eyes. He’s more than happy to wait patiently while you think of a response, it gives him time to appreciate your beautiful form-

“You’re serious?” you ask finally.

“Uh huh,” Mingyu nods. “You seem surprised.”

“I just... You’re all handsome and dressed well, and you have a nice car, and you’ve obviously got money- I just sort of assumed you were a sugar daddy or something. Someone used to taking girls out.”

Mingyu hates the use of the term ‘sugar daddy.’ It’s clear to him that Chan was right about the vibes of his clothing choices, and the cupid will admit that the car he conjured was maybe a tad too fancy. He’s been going about this all wrong, putting up a facade, creating a version of himself that he thought you would like.

Maybe Mingyu truly doesn’t know anything about you. He just hopes this misstep isn't enough to drive you away.

“I’ve been single a long time,” Mingyu admits. “I guess, maybe I got wrapped up in doing the things I thought you would like. I figured most girls like to be wined and dined, but I never really asked you what you wanted to do. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Can we start over?” Mingyu suggests.

You smile softly, nodding.

Mingyu thinks about it for a moment before he comes up with a question that he thinks could redirect this whole situation for the better. “If I could go back, and let you choose what type of date this would be, what would we have ended up doing?”

“I find that first dates where we can walk around and see stuff together are kind of nice,” you admit. “Formal things like this, face to face, over food- they kind of make me anxious. And lulls in the conversation are more obvious.”

You’re very right about that. Every long moment of silence has made Mingyu’s heart race, and he’s rushed to fill it with surface-level questions that never seemed to hit their mark. It’s interesting that he’s learning about dating from you.

Mingyu has never realized how little he actually knows about the rituals of love.

“How do you feel about me covering the bill for our drinks and appetizer, then we can get out of here?” Mingyu suggests.

“You don’t want dinner?”

“If you want food, I’ll get you food,” he tells you, “but it sounds like you’d rather be on a walk, so let's go for a walk.”

You offer him another soft smile, and Mingyu can see the way your pink aura flutters with interest. It’s the first time you’ve really glowed for him tonight, so he knows he’s headed in the right direction with this line of thought.

“A walk would be perfect.”

Half an hour later, the two of you are walking side by side through one of the small city parks.

You were right about the awkward pauses disappearing. Conversation is flowing steadily, and Mingyu couldn’t be happier. You tell him about your job, your friends, the things you do that make you happy, hobbies that have stuck with you since you were younger.

Mingyu is practically overflowing with questions now, and every response you give him is committed to memory.

“It’s such a nice night,” you say wistfully, pausing to look up at the sky, which is visible through a clearing in the tree canopy.

“It is,” Mingyu agrees, taking a deep breath and simply enjoying the moment.

That’s when a familiar cupid flies across his view, and Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest.

“Should we sit down somewhere?” Mingyu asks, looking at a bench a short distance away. It’s next to a large Oak, and Mingyu hopes that the leaf foliage can give him some privacy with you, away from any curious eyes.

You nod, gently grabbing onto his arm as you begin to walk.

Mingyu’s breath catches at the contact, a jolt of energy running through his entire form. He can feel his heart lurching again, but this is a much more pleasant feeling than before. His throat is dry, and he swallows thickly to clear it, skin heating into something like a blush.

He’s happy you’re not seated across from each other in some stuffy restaurant. With the low light of street lamps that line the walkway, there’s no way you’ll be able to see the flush of his skin. As much as Mingyu is a love cupid, he doesn’t want it to be too obvious that he’s enraptured with you.

He’s terrified that anything he does could scare you off, and he’d hate himself if that ever happened.

“Anyways,” you sigh as the two of you sit down, “enough about me, what about you?”

“Hmm?” Mingyu shuffles, turning to look at you only to find that you’ve angled your body toward him, your gaze fixed on his profile.

“What do you do for work?”

“Uh…” Mingyu doesn’t want to lie to you, but he can’t tell you the full truth either. “I’m a matchmaker, actually.”

“A matchmaker?” you repeat, surprise evident in the tone of your voice.

“Yeah. I set people up.”

“I didn’t know that was an actual job.”

“There’s lots of Korean Ajummas who want to set up their daughters or relatives with good men,” Mingyu explains, opting for a white lie.

“I see,” you nod. “A matchmaker who doesn’t date.”

“Yeah…” Mingyu clears his throat again. “Would you believe me if I said I’m pretty good at my job?”

“Maybe,” you grin. “What makes you good at your job? If not experience in the dating arena.”

“I think I’ve just always been someone who reads people. Matching is in my blood- although, after my mess up on reading you, I’m starting to wonder how successful I’ve actually been.”

“You didn’t mess up that badly,” you assure him. “And when given the opportunity to correct your misread, you did. I’m having a really good time with you now that we’re on a walk.”

“You are?” Mingyu feels like jumping up and celebrating, but he holds himself down to earth. “I’m uh, I’m having a really good time with you too.”

Instead of responding, you simply lean your head onto his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh of contentment.

The cupid holds very still, not wanting to move a muscle in the fear that you’ll pull away.

“Do you have any family?” you ask.

“A few brothers,” Mingyu responds.

“Are you close?”

Mingyu laughs. “With some.”

“Family can be an interesting experience,” you muse.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Mingyu admits, looking out at the dark field in front of you, where Chan does another fly-by.

“I hate to say this, but I have an early morning work thing,” you sigh. “I should probably be getting home.”

“Wanna go back to my car at the restaurant? I can drive you.”

“My place actually isn’t that far from here, I was thinking I might just walk… but then again,” you let out a laugh, “these heels are kind of killing my feet.”

“What if I carry you home?”

You pull away from his shoulder, giving him a doubtful look.

“You don’t think I can carry you?” Mingyu asks in shock.

“It’s not that-”

“Come on,” Mingyu gets to his feet. “Get on my back, it will be fun, I promise.”

You give him another unsure look, but finally you stand too. Mingyu turns around, bending so you can jump onto his back. The moment you’re pressed against him, he feels like he’s in heaven. He can feel your breath along the back of his neck, and it sets every inch of him on fire.

“Hold on,” he tells you, enjoying the way you wrap your grip tighter around his broad shoulders, locking your fingers together by his chest.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you admit with a shaky laugh.

“You trusted me,” Mingyu says, “and I’m not going to let you down… until we get to your apartment.”

You giggle again, and the sound is music to his ears.

“You’re crazy,” you tell him, and yet, your aura is buzzing so bright it nearly envelopes Mingyu with how tightly you’re pressed together.

“Something tells me you don’t mind.”

Four - the fuck up

“You know what you said about zones the other day?” Chan asks while he and Mingyu sit on the ledge of a tall building, looking down at the humans below.

“Yeah?”

“You said that cupids stick to their zones, right?”

“Yup.” Mingyu’s so annoyed by Chan he could scream. They’re supposed to be looking at auras, looking for a target for the day, but Chan’s head is off in the clouds-

“Okay, I just wanted to be sure.”

Mingyu lets out a deep breath, turning to look at Chan. “What was the point of those questions?”

“Just that… well, that’s Seokmin, isn’t it?” Chan points, and Mingyu follows his line of sight. Low and behold, Seokmin is flying two city blocks away, and it looks like he’s trailing something.

“We’re on the zone border,” Mingyu explains, but as he gets a bearing for the auras below, one stands out to him. “Shit.”

“I didn’t know you could cuss, grandpa,” Chan laughs, but Mingyu’s already pushing off from the ledge, his large wings unfurrowing so they can beat at the air, carrying him quickly toward the other cupid, leaving Chan in his dust. “Wait! Slow down!”

But Mingyu can’t slow down, because if he’s correct, it looks like Seokmin is trailing a very familiar pink aura that weaves amongst the muted people below.

Mingyu’s wings are large. They’re the largest of any of the cupids, and yet, as Seokmin draws his arrow, it’s clear that Mingyu’s superior size and speed won’t help him make it to his brother in time.

“Seokmin!” he yells, catching the man’s attention just as he lets his arrow fly.

Mingyu comes to a halt in the air, breath caught as he watches the arrow. It feels like everything is in slow motion, the arrow speeding through the sky toward you-

But then, it’s as if the arrow hits your aura and the pink hue acts as some sort of protective shield. The arrow falls to the ground, bursting into flower petals that melt away into the sidewalk.

“What the fuck?” Chan has caught up to Mingyu, and his words ring true to the situation. “Did Seokmin’s arrow just miss?”

“My arrows never miss!” Seokmin insists, fluttering over.

“But that one did,” Chan points out.

Seokmin’s eyes are wide with shock. “It didn’t! It was going to hit her!”

Chan rolls his eyes. “But it didn’t hit her!”

Mingyu can’t even speak. His gaze is fixed on you. The arrow missed, but you’ve come to a stop in your tracks, as if you could sense the close call you’d just somehow evaded.

“What are you two doing here anyways?” Seokmin glares. “You distracted me.”

“That’s Mingyu’s girl,” Chan responds nonchalantly.

“Who is?”

“The chick you just tried to shoot!”

Mingyu respects that Chan is getting so worked up about this, it’s kind of like the new cupid is trying to protect Mingyu and his love life endeavors.

“Wait, that’s the girl Mingyu likes?!” Seokmin bellows.

“That’s the girl he loves!” Chan insists.

“Can you both just- be quiet for a minute!?” Mingyu can’t deal with their arguing anymore, not when you’re so much more interesting.

He watches you pull out your phone-

“Do arrows even work on her?” Chan asks. “We all saw that right? It like… bounced off her aura?”

“They should work on everyone,” Seokmin responds quietly. “I mean, your arrow worked on Mingyu, for Venus’s sake.”

Mingyu’s phone rings in his pocket, the pocket he’d had conjured into his toga just to hold a line of communication with you. The other cupids turn to watch Mingyu as he lifts the human device to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey you.” Your voice is a little off. “You busy?”

“No,” Mingyu blurts out dumbly.

“Okay, good. Uh… I wasn’t sure if I should call or text-”

“Calling is good,” he assures you.

“That’s good to know.” You let out a small laugh, tucking in closer to the building and away from the busy street traffic. “It’s the weirdest thing, but you just popped into my mind. I guess, usually I let guys ask me out for a second date, and it’s only been two days since I saw you last, but I sort of just thought fuck it, I’d call you.”

Mingyu doesn’t even know how to respond. His mind is running a million miles a minute.

“Mingyu?” you ask. “Are you still there?”

“Sorry, yeah.”

“So… do you want to see each other again?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good!”

Even from a distance, Mingyu can see the way you light up, the way your aura twinkles with pretty pinks and magentas. “When… when are you free?” he asks, dazzled dumb by your beauty.

“This sounds crazy, and I get it if you’re busy, but… are you around?”

“Yeah?”

“Could we meet in an hour?”

“Yeah, I’ll uh…” Mingyu has to physically give his head a shake to speak coherently, “I’ll come pick you up.”

“Can’t wait,” you smile. “Bye, Gyu.”

“Bye.”

You hang up, but Mingyu still feels frozen. It takes a moment before he’s able to pocket his phone.

“Dude, you’re still so lame when you speak to her,” Chan muses, nudging his mentor with a grin.

“We just watched her somehow block a cupid’s arrow,” Mingyu snaps, “excuse me for needing a minute.”

“Mingyu?” This time it’s Seokmin speaking, and Mingyu hates the way he immediately flashes a glare at his brother. “Sorry, it’s just… what’s that on your wrist?”

Five - the red string

Mingyu can’t seem to take his eyes off the red string around his wrist. He picks at the fine threads as he waits in his car for you to come down from your apartment. In fact, he’s so focused on the mysterious new bracelet that he forgets to get out of the vehicle to open your door for you.

When you open your own door it causes him to jump, heart lurching in fright- then he remembers where he is, and he’s quick to pull the sleeve of his sweater down, hiding the red string. “Hi,” he says, forcing a smile.

“You okay? I didn’t scare you, did I?” you grin, getting into the car.

“Sorry, I was just lost in thought. Where, uh… where do you wanna go today?”

“Well, I was going to let you choose, but I didn’t want to end up in a fancy restaurant again, so I was thinking something simple like coffee?”

“Coffee sounds nice,” Mingyu admits. “Any specific place you like?”

“There’s a cafe by the park we were at last time, I’ll give you directions.” You reach over, gently squeezing his thigh. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” he smiles, and this time, it’s not forced at all.

You make it to the cafe. After you order, Mingyu pays, and soon, the two of you are sitting in a cute little secluded booth in the corner. As you tell him about your day, Mingyu watches you take your jacket off. He admires your choice of clothes, the way the colours compliment your skin tone and the pretty pink aura you can’t even see.

When you settle and reach for your tea, Mingyu notices something around your wrist, and he nearly chokes on his coffee.

“You good?” you laugh, reaching out to touch his hand.

“Yeah.” Mingyu steadies himself. “Uh- what’s that red thread bracelet? I didn’t notice that on our last date.”

“Oh, this?” you look down at your wrist, lifting it a little. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Trust me,” the cupid laughs, “nothing you say could ever make me think you’re crazy.”

You give him an assessing look, but finally give in with a sigh. “Okay, so basically, one of my close friends is a witch.”

“A witch?”

“Still think I’m not crazy?”

“You’re not crazy, but I haven’t met this friend yet,” Mingyu teases.

“Anyways,” you take a deep breath, “she prays to Venus, and she swears on her life that Venus helped her meet her fiance. We had a bachelorette party about a week ago and she got all us bridesmaids these ‘Red Strings of Fate.’ It’s supposed to help us meet our own soulmates, or so she says.”

“Huh,” Mingyu sits back, resting his hands on the table. “I’ve never heard about ‘Red Strings of Fate.’”

“Really? But… I mean,” your gaze dips down, “you’re wearing one too?”

Mingyu’s heart lurches, and he looks at his wrist, where the mysterious red string had appeared an hour ago. “Right…”

“Did you not know about that when you bought it? Or…?” You cock your head to the side, letting out a small laugh. “Honestly, when I saw you playing with that in the car when you picked me up, I’d kind of thought you’d gotten it to match mine.”

“I seriously didn’t even notice you had yours when we were on our last date,” Mingyu admits.

“Hmm…” Mingyu can see a glimmer of something behind your eyes, and then you grin broadly. “I guess maybe it’s just fate, huh?”

“Maybe,” Mingyu laughs.

“Where did you even gets yours?”

“It just kind of appeared,” Mingyu says honestly, only realizing what he’s said as the words leave his mouth.

“It just kind of appeared,” you repeat, looking very skeptical. Even so, you don’t question it, you simply lean back, your aura shimmering. “Guess it really is fate.”

Mingyu can’t even come up with anything else to say, so he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Listen…” you drum your fingers gently against the table, “I’ve been meaning to find a date for Luna’s wedding, but it can be hard to just run into someone you want to take to something like that. Then we quite literally ran into each other on the street, and now this whole string thing… if it’s not to soon, or too last minute, if you’d want to come to the wedding next week with me, I’d really appreciate the plus one.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu can’t believe his luck, can’t believe the cute determined set of your lips when you nod in the affirmative. “I’d love to go to this witch wedding with you.”

“As long as you don’t call her a witch to her face,” you laugh. “I think she prefers the term wicca.”

Mingyu makes a cross over his heart. “I won’t do anything to mess it up, I promise.”

Six - the consensus

The council is silent after Seokmin and Mingyu’s testaments on the oddities related to you. The younger cupids look to the elders to come up with a consensus, and Seungcheol is the first to finally speak.

“An arrow that didn’t strike, a red string, and a girl who thinks she’s a witch.” He lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess, Mingyu.”

Mingyu stays quiet, looking at his feet as he stands in the center of the council room, Seokmin and Chan on either side of him.

For a new cupid who stands up to his mentor all the time, Chan is being oddly quiet today. He hasn’t said a word, not even when Seokmin and Mingyu were recounting the story of how your aura had seemingly repelled an arrow. Chan’s nervousness is making Mingyu even more anxious, although he’s not sure what he has to be anxious about.

“While I’m certain we all appreciate the report,” Jeonghan says, “this union between Mingyu and his human is ordained by Mother. There’s no use discussing this further.”

“She avoided an arrow. Aren’t you the least bit curious about how a mortal did that?” Wonwoo asks, leaning forward in his chair. It’s not usual for Wonwoo to speak, and the fact that he’s found this story of interest makes Mingyu’s skin tingle with more worry.

Jeonghan makes a face, shaking his head. “No.”

“I’m more focused on this witch,” Jihoon admits, trailing his fingers along his jaw. “Magic isn’t anything new, but I wonder if this friend’s ‘connection to Venus’ is what made our mother step in.”

“I’ve never heard of a ‘red string of fate,’” Soonyoung adds. “This all seems very suspicious. Chan, what do you think?”

Chan fidgets next to Mingyu. “Uh… me?”

“No, the other cupid named Chan.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Yes, you!”

“What do I think about what?” Chan asks dumbly.

Seungcheol sighs, Jeonghan snickers, and other cupids simply seem amused by the new cupid.

“What do you think about all of this?” Soonyoung clarifies. “New age Venus witches and strings of fate?”

“I think…” Chan swallows, looking over at Mingyu. When he speaks again, Chan’s voice has gained confidence, and he squares his shoulders. “I think that this whole thing started when Jeonghan gave me mother’s directions to pair Mingyu up with the girl he’d been trying to match for a while. But even if I hadn’t been directed to do it, when I look at Mingyu and the human, their auras just match. I’ve never seen an aura like hers. The only aura close to it in colour is Mingyu’s. I don’t know anything about red strings of fate or witches, but I do know that nothing bad could come out of a match like this one. Or at least, that’s what my heart is telling me.”

The council is silent while they process the new cupid’s words. Mingyu can feel a warmth spreading through his chest. For a dude who’s been nothing but an annoyance and hindrance so far, Chan is growing on Mingyu.

“Chan’s right,” Seokmin says. “Her aura is just like Mingyu’s. If anyone deserves a chance to fall in love, it’s them.”

“When did you all become so sentimental,” Jihoon groans, but there’s something of a smirk under his unamused expression.

“Seokmin,” Seungcheol’s voice draws all eyes, “since you dragged yourself into this, I want you to go with Chan and Mingyu to the wedding. I trust your opinion more than Chan’s. And Mingyu, see what information you can get from the witch. Even if this is all orchestrated by mother, I want to know the ins and outs of what power this wicca believes she has.”

Seven - the witch’s wedding

Mingyu hadn’t realized that being a plus one to someone in the wedding party meant that he’d be sitting alone in the venue while waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle. He doesn’t know anyone here except for Chan and Seokmin, who are floating around eying up the singletons. Mingyu had made them promise not to shoot too many people today, but there’s already been two meet-cutes and successful matches.

The love cupid is somewhat jealous of his brothers’ ability to work, their ability to form attachments while he’s made to sit and wait. To clear his mind, he fidgets with the red string on his wrist, hidden under his suit.

The red string has become somewhat of a soothing mechanism for the cupid. It feels tangible, in an odd sort of way. He enjoys the feeling as he gently drags it across his skin, looping it over and over again-

Music begins to play through the speakers, guests turn in their seats. A young flower girl walks up the aisle, the petals she’s tossing match the soft pink dress she’s wearing, and the tie around Mingyu’s neck. You’d shown up with the fabric when he’d come to pick you up, bashfully asking him if he wanted to match with you and the bridal party.

It was a small exchange, but it had meant the world to Mingyu. He loves the fact that he’s matching with you and your friends, loves the fact that the bride had chosen soft pink as one of the color themes.

After the flower girl, the bridesmaids begin to file in, arm in arm with groomsmen. Mingyu studies the auras, noting that many of the people in the party have pink tones to match their outfits. He likes seeing so many pinks in one area, it’s no wonder you talk so highly of your friends, you’re all pieces torn from the same cloth. Like him.

You step into view, and Mingyu can feel his heart beginning to race. You look stunning today, even more so than usual. The joy you feel radiates off of you, illuminating your aura with shimmery glitter.

When you walk by, you meet Mingyu’s gaze, and he feels his grin widening. All the waiting has been worth it if even for that one smile, the brief eye contact-

Venus, he loves you.

Everyone stands when the bride enters. She’s dressed in a white laced gown, with flowers in her hair, and pretty rose quartz jewelry. There’s definitely something different about her, a richness and vibrancy to her aura that screams power.

To Mingyu’s surprise, the bride meets his eyes as she walks past, offering a small tilt to her head before she continues up the aisle.

Mingyu thinks about the small motion from the bride throughout the ceremony.

He hasn’t met a real witch since the dark ages. People with a true connection to the gods are few and far in between these days. Mingyu wonders what kind of power your friend holds, and what it means in regard to him and the other cupids floating around.

Even with all these wonderings, Mingyu focuses on the example of love set before him. He listens to the vows, and the grandma next to him offers him tissues to wipe away his tears. The first kiss as man and wife makes Mingyu want to cheer with joy, his heart practically exploding in his chest.

He loves love.

When the bride and groom exit, you stand by the podium, explaining that the reception will take place in a venue two doors down from the ceremony hall. Mingyu watches you hurry out after the bride before he slowly dispurses with the rest of the guests, the kind grandma who had given him tissues latched to his arm for support.

He’s unsure of himself when he reaches the reception. There’s an entryway station that details table arrangements. “What’s your name dear?” the grandma next to him asks, adjusting some glasses on the tip of her nose.

“I don’t think I’m on the list,” Mingyu admits, scanning the seating cards.

He tells the old woman your name and she gives him an amused look. “A plus one to the bridal party,” she nods. “Table one.”

“And where are you seated?” the cupid asks. “I’ll help you there.”

After doing his duty with the old woman, Mingyu finds himself at a table full of pink-souled love birds. They’re all gushing about the ceremony, and are more than happy to welcome the cupid into the discussion. Mingyu’s never felt so immediately at ease, and you find him this way, laughing with his new group of love-obsessed peers.

“Hi,” you whisper, slipping into the seat next to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, about to turn and look at you- only for your lips to press to his cheek. Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest, his body freezing for a moment before he’s able to look into your eyes. “What was that for?”

“I’m just happy you came,” you admit.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Mingyu retorts, and he really does mean it.

Being with you is so easy. He’d fallen for your pink vibration, and now he’s falling for the auras that your friends exude too.

Before Mingyu even knows it, your table is being called up for food. He sticks to your side like glue as you fill your plates, and when you begin to head back to sit down, the bride waves you over. Mingyu sticks to you even as you approach your friend, who stands from the newly wed table with a grin.

“So this must be the famous Mingyu I’ve heard so much about.” The witch grins. “I’m Luna.”

She holds out a hand, and Mingyu doesn’t even hesitate to take it. There’s an immediate jolt of energy that runs through him when their skin touch, and he swallows the lump in his throat. Luna meets his gaze with a steady smile.

“Y/N, would you be so kind as to get me a glass of wine from the open bar?” Luna asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” You squeeze Mingyu’s arm before darting away.

The cupid opens his mouth to say something, only for Luna to cut him off. “I can see your wings.”

“What?” Mingyu nearly chokes on air.

“And your friends flying around,” Luna’s gaze lifts, trailing Chan as he soars over the dance floor. “Three cupids, and yet you’re the only one with a vibrant pink aura. It’s the pretties I’ve ever seen, aside from Y/N’s, of course.”

“You really can see us,” Mingyu breathes. “My brothers, my wings, my aura-”

“I bet you thought I wasn’t a real witch, didn’t you, big guy?” Luna laughs.

“I mean…” Mingyu can’t even meet her eyes now, especially since she’s just used your petname for him. “Yeah. I didn’t think you were real.”

“Most people don’t think you’re real,” the witch retorts. “Cupids? In twenty twenty four? It’s kind of shocking, not to mention outdated.”

“We’re not outdated,” Mingyu goes to defend himself, but the look Luna shoots him makes his voice catch in his throat.

“My first fiance was a bad match,” Luna says, capturing Mingyu’s full attention with the power of her tone. “Some white haired cupid shot me. I guess he figured I had a pink soul and this man had a red one so we’d even out. But we never did. It was bad. So bad that I started praying to Venus. When I got away from the guy, I was determined to find my next partner all by myself. A match based on actual connection. That’s how I met Jae.” Her gaze floats to her new husband, and an expression of love fills her features, her aura shimmering. “Listen. I know that you cupids try to do what you believe is right, but your matches don’t always work. That’s why I gave all my friends red strings of fate. To protect them from bad arrows… although, based off of the way you look at y/n, I’m pretty sure it’s not her who’s been shot.”

Mingyu can feel a lump in his throat. He can also feel a presence at his shoulder, and Chan leans forward to whisper, “Damn, dude, she read you for filth.”

Luna grins, looking at the new cupid behind Mingyu. “Stop shooting my guests.”

“You got it,” Chan agrees immediately.

“Look, we don’t have much time,” Luna sighs, “but what’s the deal with this whole thing. How did you even get shot? Are you guys drinking on the job, or what?”

“Actually, Venus herself instructed I shoot Mingyu and make him fall for your friend,” Chan defends himself. “Although, he was pretty much already in love with her anyways.”

Luna’s eyes widen in shock. “Venus did this?”

“Indirectly,” Chan nods.

“I don’t trust you guys, but I trust her,” the witch states. “I prayed to her that my friends find their soulmates, and now here you are.”

Could this really all be the witch’s doing?

Mingyu can hardly even think, he can only stand there dumbly, staring at Luna like she’s grown three extra heads and a beaver tail.

“You have to tell y/n,” Luna says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s shoulder. “You can’t lie to her about all of this.”

“I can’t tell her-” Mingyu tries to argue, but once more, his tongue gets caught.

“You will. And we’ll hang out again soon,” Luna insists, sounding so certain that for a moment, Mingyu wonders if she has the gift of future sight.

“Hey, you two,” you appear at Mingyu’s side, holding out a glass for the bride. “What did I miss?”

“Just your new boo being adorable,” Luna grins. “He’s a keeper, this one.”

“What?” You let out a laugh, looking between Mingyu and your best friend. “But… you usually hate the guys I go out with!”

“Well, I like Mingyu,” Luna shrugs. “Something tells me he’ll be around for a long time.”

With a lift of her glass, the witch goes to sit down with her husband again, leaving you and Mingyu shocked. As you head back to your table, you cling tight to his side. “What did you even say to her?” you whisper.

“I hardly said anything,” Mingyu admits.

“Was it an aura thing? Luna always says she can read auras-”

Mingyu nearly chokes on air and it makes you grip his arm tighter.

“It was an aura thing, wasn’t it?”

“Something like that.” Mingyu doesn’t want to get into auras with you. The witch had been pretty specific about him coming clean to you, but now is definitely not the right time.

He’s very lucky that when you take your seats, a few of your friends immediately strike up a conversation. Mingyu hides behind the discussion, staying in the peripheries while he contemplates what his life has become.

Eight - the time to come clean

If Mingyu had been obsessed with you before the wedding, things are now on an entire other level. After his run in with the witch, you’d invited Mingyu to come dance with you. Holding you close while a slow song played had made the cupid feel in a way he’s never felt. Then, when he’d taken you home, you’d kissed him at your door step.

He can still feel the ghost of your lips pressing across his own, and when he closes his eyes, he can imagine you’re still there with him.

It’s been a distraction to say the least. Two days have gone by since that night, with you running through his mind like an olympic level track star.

You’d invited him to come for a date at your place, offered to cook dinner, and Mingyu’s been practically holding his breath in anticipation.

He fiddles with the string around his wrist as he approaches your home, knocking lightly on the door. His breathing is shallow, and he gnaws on his lower lip while he waits.

Mingyu can’t even help himself when you open your door, he pulls you into an immediate hug, breathing in your scent and letting out a deep breath.

“Hey, big guy,” you laugh, cuddling closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“Missed you,” Mingyu admits.

Your giggling continues. “Luna was right about you being a keeper, mister softie.”

You invite him into your home, giving Mingyu a tour. It’s hard for him to keep his focus on anything you’re saying though. You look adorably comfortable in your cute sweatpant outfit. He’s never seen you laid back like this before, and it feels like an honour that you’re trusting enough of him now to let him witness this side of you.

Soon, he finds himself in your kitchen, doing everything he can to help you prep the meal.

If you’re the head chef, he’ll be your line cook, and be damned happy to do it.

Talking to you is just so easy these days, especially since Mingyu can monitor your aura to pick up on the topics that truly make your heart sing. He sticks to your hobbies, your friends, things that have you glowing. He enjoys when you ramble on, as it gives him a chance to stare at your lips and imagine them on his own once again.

After dinner, Mingyu treads carefully. He’s very conscious of the fact that he’s in your home, and he’d never want to overstep anything with you.

When you invite him to watch a movie, he sits a respectable distance, but when you ask him if he wants to cuddle, Mingyu can feel his resolve getting thin.

He shuffles over to be the big spoon, watching you carefully get in position in front of him. You snuggle back, your bum brushing by the front of his blue jeans, and Mingyu’s breath catches. His hand finds your hip, keeping you still.

You look over your shoulder at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He swallows thickly. “I just uh… it’s nothing.”

There’s a knowing in your eyes, and your aura glimmers with a mischievous tint that Mingyu usually sees with Soonyoung and Jeonghan.

You roll over, facing Mingyu. Your gaze dips to his lips then back up again. “I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu’s voice cracks. “Thinking about what?”

“That wedding date was really nice,” you muse, reaching up to trace your finger along his jaw. “I asked a lot of you when I invited you to that, but you came through for me. Luna even likes you, and I don’t think you understand how rare that is.”

“I’m more than willing to please,” Mingyu admits.

“Oh, trust me, I know you are.” You let out a giggle, your aura practically humming with happiness. “I’ve also been thinking about that kiss.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah?” Your grin widens, and you tuck in closer to his chest.

“Can I… do you want me to kiss you again?”

“Mingyu,” you coo, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The cupid takes in a shaky breath, cupping your cheek and staring into your eyes before he closes the distance between your lips. The first kiss had been soft, and this one is just as gentle, however, as you slant your mouth against his own, it begins to last much longer than the first one had.

You let out a small sigh, grabbing at the front of his shirt to drag yourself even closer. Your tongue darts out to lick at his lip and it makes Mingyu groan. His hand slips down to your hip, then the small of your back, pulling you the last few inches so you’re pressed to his chest.

Nothing has ever felt this good.

Mingyu’s spent his whole life matching humans, but now to be matched himself- there’s truly nothing like it in the whole world.

He gets lost in your lips, the way you let out more whimpers. He commits your sounds to memory, his fingers gently pressing at your skin. He’s doing his best not to be overbearing, he wants you to have all the control, and yet, he hopes it’s clear how much he wants you… how much he needs you, like the air he needs to breathe.

Luckily for Mingyu, you don’t mind taking a bit of control. With an annoyed groan, you move to straddle him, forcing Mingyu onto his back while your knees press into the couch on either side of his hips.

Your hands find his chest, and you stare down at him.

You’re so beautiful it almost hurts.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

Mingyu can hardly find his voice, but he manages to let out a choked, “Yeah.”

You lean down, pressing your lips against him again. Your tongue tastes his own, and as he’s leaning up to deepen the kiss, you pull away. Your hand finds his jaw, pushing his head to the side so you can access his throat, where you pepper his skin. You lick at sensitive spots that have him shivering, grabbing at the couch for any grip that can keep him from floating away from how good this feels.

Mingyu knows where this is going. He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, which presses up against blue denim. He can even feel the heat between your own legs, an unspoken need that’s only building with each passing second.

His heart thunders in his chest. He hates to do it, but he whispers your name, prompting you to slow down your movements.

“Yes, Gyu?”

“I need…” he swallows thickly, closing his eyes in concentration. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is now the right time?” you giggle, licking his sweet spot and making a shiver run through his entire form.

“I can’t- I can’t do this without telling you everything about myself.”

“Sounds serious.” You pull away, sitting up so you can look down at him with a frown. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m uh… really okay.” Mingyu does his best to steady his breathing, but with the view in front of him, it’s difficult. “I don’t even know how to tell you what I need to tell you.”

“Take your time,” you assure him, pressing your hand gently to his chest, palm over his heart. “I won’t judge you.”

“It’s not about judgment,” Mingyu sighs, placing his hand over your own. “I don’t know if you’ll even believe me. You’ll think I’m crazy or something.”

“Try me.”

Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I told you I’m a match maker.”

“Uh huh.”

“And that’s true- but… I didn’t tell you the extent of it.”

“The extent of it,” you repeat, and Mingyu can see you trying to figure out where he’s going with this.

“I really don’t know how to say this with you looking at me with your pretty eyes,” Mingyu groans.

“Here.” You lift your free hand, covering your face. “Is this easier?” your words are slightly muffled by your palm, and the goofiness of it immediately relaxes Mingyu.

“Actually, yes.” He can’t help but giggle, and you join in with him while he takes the moment to ground himself. “Okay so basically…” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I’m a cupid.”

“Huh?” You still have your hand over your face, but it’s clear you’ve furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Luna can verify it. She’s a real witch, which…I was honestly kind of shocked at, and I’m a cupid, so if you don’t believe me about this, I get it, I really do. Listen- I was trying to match you with someone, and I just couldn’t do it. Then a cupid I was training shot me while I was looking at you, and long story short, Luna has a connection to Venus or something and Venus thought it would be a good idea if one of her sons actually fell in love, and now here I am, and it’s a mess, but… yeah.”

You’re quiet for a long moment. Your aura flutters with mixed emotions, and it makes Mingyu’s stomach twist into knots about how you’ll react.

“Can I look at you?” you ask finally.

“Sure.”

You remove your hands from your eyes, gnawing on your lip and tilting your head while you study him. “I want to see your wings.”

“You what?”

“If you want me to believe you, I think I should see your wings. You’re a cupid, right? So you must have wings?”

Mingyu considers it a for a moment. He’s never shown a human his wings before, but he’s also never fallen in love with one either. He lets out a deep breath. “Okay, but I have to be on top to show you.”

You’re quick to agree, and after a short shuffle, Mingyu finds himself kneeling between your thighs. You’re resting on your back, propped against a pillow, and you’re watching him carefully.

“I’m gonna take my shirt off,” he warns you, grabbing at the hem of his white v-neck.

You stay quiet, eyes taking in each inch of exposed skin as Mingyu slowly strips his torso bare.

“I should tell you… I’ve been in human form when I’m with you. But when I show you my wings- when I go full cupid, you might not be able to resist me.”

You rake your gaze across his sculpted chest, enjoying the tanned skin, pretty pectoral muscles and washboard abs. “I’ve hardly been able to resist you like this,” you muse. “Dazzle me, Mingyu. I’m ready.”

The cupid takes a deep breath. When he exhales, he lets go of the walls he’s built up. He allows his full self to come into form, his large white wings taking shape behind him. When he’s human, he kind of forgets about the wings, they’re always with him, just not always physical. Now that they’re out, he can feel the temperature of your apartment, the slight cool sensation against his sensitive feathers.

Mingyu can’t help but stretch the appendages, allowing his full wing span to protrude outward from his back.

He hears a small squeak of surprise that escapes your lips, and you sit up immediately, clearly wanting a better look at the marvelous wings.

“Are you sure you’re a cupid and not an angel?” you ask, your gaze meeting his as your fingers extend to hook in the waistline of his jeans.

“I can be anything you want me to be,” Mingyu whispers.

You lick your lips, eying his wings again. “Are they sensitive?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Can I… Can I touch?”

Mingyu stares at you for a second. No hands but his own have ever touched his wings. Cupid wings are sacred, like their bows and arrows. Mingyu doesn’t touch his brothers’ sacred things, and they don’t touch his.

But you’re not one of his brothers.

He slowly nods. He can’t find it within himself to give you a verbal confirmation, not when he holds his breath waiting for contact.

“I’ll be gentle,” you promise. It’s almost as if you can sense his hesitancy about this- although, from the tense way Mingyu’s holding his body, he supposes it’s no secret.

As one final show of trust, Mingyu adjusts his right wing, folding it around his body so you don’t have to reach so far. He watches you close the distance between your fingers and the white feathers.

When your digits make contact, a shiver runs through him. You’re quick to pull your hand away, eyes widening. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Mingyu shakes his head, catching his breath. “I just… no one has ever touched my wings.”

“You really weren’t kidding when you said you haven’t dated a lot.”

“I’ve never dated,” Mingyu corrects the white lie from when he’d first met you.

“Never?”

“Never,” the cupid confirms. “I’ve had… interactions with other immortals, but I never let them see my wings. You’re the first human to ever see me. Like this, and in all ways.”

Your aura beats with adoration for him, and the emotion written across your face doesn’t need to be said.

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips press against yours.

Mingyu flattens a palm against the arm of your couch to steady himself, half leaning over your form while the kiss deepens.

You trail your hand from his neck to his shoulder, moving slowly and gently, another wordless communication.

When you touch his wing again, it’s not sudden, instead, it’s anticipated, and Mingyu can’t help the groan of pleasure that escapes him.

Your fingers glide over a feather, tracing it. When you repeat the motion, Mingyu thinks he might faint from how good it feels.

“Oh my Gods,” Mingyu whimpers, breaking the kiss to pant heavily against your neck while you trail your lips along his cheek bone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, big guy?”

“So good,” he admits, his jeans feeling painfully tight now.

It’s as if you can read him. As if he’s a book that you’ve memorized, dog earring your favourite things. Each touch has him enthralled by you, and each touch is perfection.

You drag your free hand along his chest, moving down-

His breath catches when you cup him through his jeans.

He must be as hard as a rock, and you trace the outline of his bulge, teasing your digits along the tip.

“Please-” Mingyu groans, hips thrusting of their own accord, looking for any friction he can find while you continue to stroke his wing.

“Tell me what you need,” you encourage him, applying more pressure to his cock.

“I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.”

“Then taste me,” you practically purr.

Mingyu’s had his fair share of one night stands with sirens and demi gods and other beings of the like- he knows what he’s doing as he gets off the couch and sinks to his knees.

He grabs at you, man handling you into a position that works for him before tugging off your sweat pants.

You release a giggle, leaning back against the couch cushions while he spreads your thighs. Mingyu looks up at you, meeting your gaze as he begins to kiss up your legs, taking his time to pepper your skin.

That pretty pink aura practically blinds him as he works his way closer and closer to where you need him most. He can see a wet patch along the fabric of your panties, and he can’t help but spread your legs open even more, leaning forward to press a kiss to your clit through the silky material.

You let out a sigh of happiness as Mingyu begins to lick and prod your panty clad core. He can taste you along the fabric and it’s driving him insane.

His fingers squeeze your thighs, and he allows you to adjust one over his shoulder- then your toes brush past the base of his wing, causing him to moan loudly. You shiver from the vibrations of it, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

He eats you through your panties until you’re bucking against his face- until his cock is throbbing so hard he physically can’t wait any longer.

Hooking his fingers in the fabric, he tugs your underwear down your legs, and then he’s burying his tongue in your core.

You release a squeal of delight, tightening your grip in his hair. You pull him even closer, wrapping your legs around his head as he licks your pussy like he’s never licked anything in his entire life.

The sounds you’re making now are better than all the angel songs Mingyu’s ever heard. He could listen to you whine and moan for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, just like that, oh my God- Gyu-”

He wraps his lips around your clit and you whimper, pussy beginning to throb in preparation for the orgasm Mingyu can’t wait to drag out of you.

Your fingers tug on his hair, and the pain only makes him go harder. He sucks hard on your sensitive bud, flicking at it and groaning at your taste.

Mingyu’s eaten fruit from the Garden of Eden. He’s eaten fairy nectar and every mystical delicacy he could get his hands on. But nothing - nothing - has ever tasted the way you do.

He could get drunk from your pussy- in fact, he already is.

His mind is going hazy, words are losing their meaning. It’s as animalistic as Mingyu’s ever felt, he has two goals: the first, to make you cum harder than you ever have, and the second, to do it again, but with his cock.

“I’m gonna-” you whimper, rutting against his face. “Please, don’t stop-”

Your sounds get pitchier and pitchier until you let out a gasp. Your pussy clenches around nothing while he sucks on your clit, intent on drawing out your orgasm.

You begin to squirm and he holds you down with both hands, eating you out until you’re a moaning, shaking mess.

When your grip loosens on his hair, he pulls away, looking up at you.

You’re an absolute vision. Your chest is heaving under your shirt, your lips puffy from kissing and biting. Your eyes are closed, head thrown back, body still twitching.

Mingyu wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, standing up. He undoes his jeans, pausing for a moment before pushing them down. “Still want this?” he clarifies.

You open your eyes, looking up at him with the most fucked out expression he’s ever seen. “If you don’t fuck me, so help me God, I’ll get Luna to cast a spell on you.”

Mingyu can only laugh. “Like… a love spell?” Mingyu asks as he pushes his pants and underwear down. “Because trust me, nothing in the world could make me more into you than I already am.”

“Is that so?” you grin, pulling off your shirt to join him in nudity.

“Uh huh. Which is why I can’t fuck you on this couch.” Mingyu reaches down, scooping you up into his arms. “Which way’s the bedroom?”

“Last door on the left down the hall,” you sigh, tucking close to his chest.

You pepper his throat in kisses the entire way to your room, where Mingyu gently sets you onto the bed.

“Do we… should we use protection?” you ask.

Mingyu cocks his head to the side. “I can conjure my bow and arrow-”

You let out a laugh, your aura glimmering with amusement. “No, silly, I mean like condoms.”

“Oh…” Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “Should we?”

“I mean… I’m on birth control…” you look him up and down. “Your magic cupid cock isn’t gonna outsmart the pill, is it?”

“That’s a good question.” Mingyu looks down at his rock hard length, wrapping a hand around it to relieve some of the pressure there.

“You know what? Fuck it.” You hold your arms open for him. “Just get inside of me.”

Mingyu laughs, getting onto the bed. He holds himself over you with an elbow pressed to the mattress, his free palm finding your abdomen. “I should work you open a little first,” he tells you, pressing his lips to your own.

“I don’t mind a little pain.” You reach for his cock, stroking the precum on the tip and tracing the length of it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mingyu admits. “Ever.”

You don’t respond, you simply kiss him deeper. Mingyu takes this as a confirmation to drag his fingers down to your core. He starts with his middle digit, teasingly pushing it in and out of your wet hole.

You pump his cock while he works you open, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep him on the edge. He adds a second finger and you mewl desperately against his lips, hips rutting to match his pace.

You’re practically drenching his hand. At this point, he knows you could take him- he just wants to see how much you’ll allow before your beg for it.

Mingyu loves playing with you like this. He enjoys the act of love making, and he’s in no rush- although, his cock is starting to be something near painful with the amount of blood that has him standing at attention.

“Gyu…” you whimper, pumping him even harder.

It’s clear you’re about to beg- but he can’t stand to actually have you do it. He gives in immediately, pulling his fingers from your core. He brushes your hand away from his length, lining himself up with your pussy.

Mingyu presses his lips to yours as he pushes inside, moving slowly so you can adjust to inch after inch of his girthy cock.

You grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself, gently digging your nails into his skin. No matter how hard you try, Mingyu doubts you could actually draw blood, and what might be painful to a human is nothing more than an annoying tingle, but it’s hardly a distraction from the feeling of your pussy swollowing him up.

He can’t help the groans that leave him as he kisses you, finally flush with your body. Your walls throb around him, adjusting to the intrusion.

“Mingyu,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Please-”

He begins slowly. Mingyu’s not sure how fragile humans truly are, and he doesn’t want to fuck you so hard that your back breaks. Instead, he takes his time, adding more and more speed and power. He notes your reactions, notes what makes you squeal.

When he’s satisfied with a particular whimper, he stays doing what motion had earned the sound. The whole bed is rocking from his thrusts, and you’ve turned into a moaning mess for him again- but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Shit, you’re so good-” you gasp, breaking the kiss to lick at his throat, circling his sweet spot while he fucks you into the mattress.

Mingyu can’t help himself, he grabs one of your hands, lacing your fingers as he fucks you. There’s something intimate about the hand holding- and when he looks up, he realizes it’s the hands that have red strings on their wrists.

However, as he fucks you even faster, he notices the strings aren’t simply their own bracelets anymore- they’re somehow intertwined.

Mingyu can’t bring himself to think about it too hard, not when your wriggling under him, your wet pussy engulfing him with each thrust-

Your free hand reaches around his back, fingers brushing over a feather, and Mingyu almost cums right then and there.

“Fuck-” he whimpers. “If you do that again, I’m gonna-”

“Cum with me,” you whisper. “Please, I’m so close- if you fill me up, I just know I’ll get there.”

You stroke another feather and Mingyu’s entire body twitches, his muscles tensing with pleasure.

“Please, Mingyu!”

You’re on the verge of tears, and when Mingyu looks down at you, he’s completely overtaken by how much you’re glowing. He’s never seen a human aura glow like yours- and now, you look absolutely godly beneath him.

One more stroke of his feathers has Mingyu groaning loudly. He buries his face in your neck, squeezing your hand as he pushes his cock as deep inside of you as it can go. He can feel each heavy beat of his heart as he fills you with rope upon rope of cum-

Your pussy clenches tightly around him, and from the way you’re moaning in his ear, he knows you’ve reached your high too.

All you can do is hold each other, breathing each other in while you get lost in a pleasure that could never be topped.

He’s in love with you, body and soul.

Mingyu’s not sure how long he cums, all he knows is that he’s practically spent as he comes down from the high. He’s breathing heavily, you both are, and he stays on top of you while you ground yourselves again.

You begin to stroke the back of his neck, and Mingyu takes this as a cue to put some distance between your chests so he can get a good look at you.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Better than okay,” you muse with a lazy grin. “And Gyu?”

“Yeah?”

“As crazy as this is… I love you too.”

It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize what you’re saying, because he hasn’t directly said those words- and yet, he’d betrayed himself multiple times without even realizing it. He’d mentioned getting shot with an arrow, Venus wanting a son to fall in love. He’d even said that no love potion could make his feelings stronger than they already are.

Mingyu had been so lost in you that he hadn’t even known that all of his walls had come crumbling down.

There’s no secret he’ll ever be able to keep from you, and that’s clear now.

But there’s no secret he’d ever want to keep from you.

You’re his other half. His pink aura baby. And staring down at you in the aftermaths of the best sex of his life, Mingyu knows that whatever happens, you’ll be his soulmate till the day he ceases to exist.

Nine - the note

Hi, gorgeous. I’m sorry you have to wake up alone. Duty calls. I’ve got council meetings this morning that I can’t miss. But we’re connected now. One tug on your red string and I’ll know you’re trying to connect. There’s no where in your world or mine that I could go where you can’t reach me. I love you. I’m here for the long run. If you want, I can see you tonight. Give the string three tugs anytime after noon, and I’ll be there faster than you can even imagine.

Hugs & kisses

Love,

Cupid

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! Happy (belated) Valentine's Day to all us Gyu obsessed hotties

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. You’re practically drooling as Mingyu shrugs the fabric off of his body, revealing a form that was literally sculpted by the Gods. You could stare at him forever and never get bored. He’s the sexiest person you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, earning a loud groan, you know that he’s all yours.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu loves pussy, oral (m/f receiving), big dick Mingyu, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, deep throating, face fucking, touching cupid wings as a sexual stimulus, female masturbation while giving a blow job, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, etc… I petnames. (hers) gorgeous. (his) big guy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 150

🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s Valentine’s Day and you wake up alone, and yet, you don’t really mind.

In the few months you’ve been dating your Cupid, he’s stepped up his game when it comes to checking in on the matches he’s made. As he’s become closer with Luna, and heard her failed love story, Mingyu’s been increasingly diligent on all things human relations.

He’s left a note for you on your pillow, as he does every morning he has to work instead of waking up with you.

You read it with a smile, enjoying all the hearts he’s drawn across the lined paper.

You don’t mind spending the first part of your Valentine’s Day alone. Three rough tugs on the string around your wrist would draw your lover back, but you figure his job is important today of all days.

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general taglist

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svt taglist:

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#mingyu #mingyu smut #svthub #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #svt #svt smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #mingyu svt #svt mingyu #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu svt smut #svt mingyu smut #cupid mingyu

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

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The Vow 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, arranged marriage, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

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

Character: mob!August Walker

Summary: your father’s murder leaves you in the hands of a dangerous man.

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

August draws you onto the dance floor. He tugs your arm so you swing into him, hitting his chest with an oomph as the first song begins. Your first song. Every girl dreams of this, don’t they? Their wedding day. Their first dance. But what about the father-daughter dance?

You try not to think of anything but that moment. Not that bloody night, not the vows strangled from your throat, or the incessant pulsing of your heart. Just move your feet, sway, let the melody wrap you up and hold you close.

Your husband has one hand on your lower back, his other cradles your gloves fingers and guides them onto his shoulder. You tilt your head up to see him. The spark in his blue eyes dispels your breath like fog.

His hand falls to your hip as he turns you with him, moving smoothly around the floor, before all those watching eyes. Beneath the music is a drawn hush. His audience, his people, watch their new king take his crown jewel.

His hand slips down and brushes the curve of your ass. He pulls you flush to him and growls. You squeak in surprise. It is another show of his dominance. Another proclamation of his power. If your father was alive, he would have his hands cut off but your father is dead and his hand remains as it is.

“You are not his daughter anymore, you are my wife,” August intones under his breath.

“Yes,” agree in a hollow gulp.

“So smile,” he taunts. “Aren’t you happy to have a husband?”

“Yes,” you repeat again.

“You don’t seem it,” he challenges.

You twitch. You make yourself lean into him. You drag one hand from his shoulder and to his chest. You feel the muscle beneath and your chest thrums. You feel his power nested beneath his suit. His cheek dimples, he’s pleased at the play of fear on your face.

You make yourself smile and run your hand up to his collar and tickle along his neck. His throat bobs and you flutter over the short stubble already poking through his skin. He leans his head down and you nearly trip over yourself as you strain to kiss him.

He hums, still moving you in his thrall, and his tongue flits over your lip. You let him in. He twirls you and bends you backward as he stills your feet. He deepens the kiss as he keeps you off kilter. The crowd jeers and eggs him on, shattering the brittle tension.

He parts and puts you back on your feet. He spins you away and pulls you back in. You are weak to his whim. You are his wife, his possession.

As he turns you, you see your mother. She watches in sombre stillness. She sits as others stands to watch, others joining the fun with their partners.

Your hand drifts down and you keep it high on August’s shoulder as your other nestles into his side beneath his jacket. He purrs, content at your submission. He kneads your ass and breathes over your hair and veil. He toys with it as it brushes his knuckles.

“Keep this on tonight,” he growls.

Tonight.

You quiver at the thought. This is only the beginning. That small hole in the back of your mind splits into a gaping tear and your fear floods in.

“Your father always was greedy but I daresay his worst offense was keeping you locked up,” he snarls and kisses your forehead, the trim of his mustache bristling along your hairline.

You shiver and curl your fingers against him. You cling to him as your legs threaten to give out. Your family mantle is suddenly a chain around your neck. The iron ball at the end will only drag you down.

He nuzzles your hair, “will you shake when I have you under me?”

You whimper, “please.”

“Denial cannot protect you. It didn’t protect him,” he growls. “I could drag you out right now and fuck you over a toilet. Hell, I could throw you down on this floor and throw your skirts up and they would cheer me on. Every last one of them.”

Terror surges through you and you pull back to look him in the face. To this point, he’s been patient. Stony and strict but not unkind. You can see clearly then what makes him so dangerous. His boldness. His shamelessness. His iron determination.

“Yes, I know. I know you could. You can,” you eke out. “But I am being good. Sir, August, why would you be cruel?”

He smirks, “I’m not, am I? I’m reminding you that I can, if you choose to stoke it.”

“I understand,” you quaver and rub his chest appeasingly. Instinctively as you try to calm this sudden rise in him. “I can be good.”

“For me or to me?” He wonders.

“For-- to—Both. Whatever you will have of me,” you plead as you rub beneath his jacket. “Tell me what you want?”

He stares down at you. His eyes sparkle and the corners of his lips tweak. He brings his knuckles up to pet your cheek. He considers you then stops, his hand on your hip.

“It is time,” he booms out and signals to someone unseen.

You turn to search for whoever it is. From your other side, a man approaches with a chair. You spin back and your mother stands. Her hands are fists. Her face is steel. She watches as her shame threatens to boil over.

August puts you in the chair by your shoulders. You look around as the dancers still and circle around. Those still at their table angle around to see.

You squirm as your husband gets to his knees. He puts his hands behind his back as Margot comes forward to lift your skirts. You stifle a yelp as she throws them over his head and he bows to drag his lips along your ankle.

You twitch as he creeps up your stocking. You know what this is. You’ve been to many weddings. You always found the display terribly humiliating.

His breath plumes over your leg as he reaches your thigh and he pinches you with his teeth. You cry out and your hands are grabbed before you can swat at your dress. Theo pulls your wrists behind you and you writhe as August continues his mission beneath the layers of tulle.

His nose brushes along your leg and he kisses the tender flesh as you quiver. He nips and licks in a faux search for your garter, only biting down on it as you whine in discomfort. He tugs it down slowly as his growl rumbles against you.

He brings it down the length of your leg and the skirts fall away from his head as he sits back on his heels. He has the lace in his teeth as his hair is askew from his plunge beneath the fabric. He grabs the garter and waves it at the ground as he stands and chortles in victory. You’re released and fix your skirts frantically.

“Ahhh,” he scrunches it to his nose and inhales, “I can smell it. My wife is ready.” He shakes the garter in his fist and the crowd laughs, “aren’t you?”

He turns to you and scoops you up. You cry out as he brings you against his chest. He sighs and looks around at the crowd; at his empire.

“To the boss!” Theo calls out as he raises a glass and the entire room mirrors him in anointing their new king.

#august walker #dark august walker #dark!august walker #august walker x reader #drabble #series #the vow #mission impossible: fallout #au #mob au

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agendabymooner · 1 year ago

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SOMETHING CELEBRATORY !!! CARLOS S. X FEM!READER X LANDO N. (18+)

summary: how to celebrate a podium and a race win with carlos and lando?

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), pwp, use of explicit language, we don’t proofread we rawdog our writing for the best, unprotected sex (for the love of god use protection i’m begging), themes of polyamory and threesome, brief description of anal sex, fingering, oral (m receiving) + deep throat, overstimulation + squirting, double penetration, mentions aftercare, shitty spanish translation

note: this was a request by my tle anon 😩 forgive me for just putting this out there. ALSO this takes place after singapore ‘23 because let’s be real— that was the best race for me. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

💌re:moony’s planner is opened!!!

being overstimulated was quite a lot, indeed, but carlos and lando were feeling on fire that night. after all, their 1-2 win (despite driving for different teams) was something new to the season— they deserved to be on fire that night. and she did say that they deserved everything after that victory, including her. not that they haven’t fucked her every other day already. but they deserved everything after that win.

now here she was: her legs giving out on her while she sobbed quietly, unable to voice her needs as lando continued fucking up into her backdoor.

his voice spoke out for the both of them as he grunted, his hips thrusting up at her while the spaniard stroked his cock and looked at her with his lust-blown eyes.

saliva dribbled down her chin as she stared at the way carlos rubbed the tip of his cock so slowly. the way she licked her lips in hunger left him to grin as he crooned, “you are such a greedy whore, princesa.”

lando groaned as she clenched around his cock. he hissed and slapped her thigh, “so fuckin’ tight, carlos. you should feel her!”

“look at her,” carlos cooed, the hand that once stroked his cock reached to wipe the drool down her chin and licked his thumb clean. “so eager for our cocks, hm?”

she nodded frantically, her mouth opening up as she sunk down to lando’s cock for a moment and swirled her tongue around carlos’s fat tip, leaning forward to let the spaniard fuck her mouth.

lando’s fingers found her clit as she squealed in pleasure, her cheeks hollowing as she took every single inch of carlos’s cock inside her. her cunt clenched around nothing, waiting to be filled by carlos, whose cock remained in her mouth and down her throat as tears welled up in her eyes.

carlos groaned deeply, “nuestra buena y bonita puta. sigue chupándome la polla así.” our good pretty whore. keep sucking my cock like that.

her legs nearly closed because of the filthy words that she barely understood before she squirmed as lando slapped her cunt, spreading her legs widely again before he thrusted his hips up to fuck her ass.

lando’s fingers found their way inside her cunt as he curled them inside her, now thrusting them in and out as she moaned around carlos’s cock.

the spot inside her leaving her to inhale whatever air’s left of her as she felt her eyes rolling at back of her head, twitching and shaking as she reached her climax.

liquid trickled out of her cunt as carlos finally pulled his cock away from her mouth, allowing her to reach her orgasm for the nth time tonight as she continued to squirt around lando’s fingers.

just as her body began calming down, her vision turned bright as carlos’s hand now rubbed her clit rigorously. “c’mon, princesa,” he murmured with excitement, “you got more, don’t you?”

“carlos- car- i—“ she squealed, her body convulsing on top of lando as the british man continued to fuck her. “i— fuck! carlos!”

“she got more, carlos,” lando spoke from beneath her, groaning as his cock bottomed out on her. “she’s such a good girl for giving us more— surely she’s got more.”

“cum, princesa,” carlos cooed, his cock hardening at the way her body shakily supported itself before she could even collapse on top of lando. “be a good girl for us. don’t be shy now. cum.”

“i— fuuuuck~ i’m cumming,” she sobbed, her tears now trickling down like pleasure did down her legs— lando’s cock remained inside her hole as her cunt cried pleasure and orgasm once more.

“i— s’good,” her legs nearly gave out, but carlos quickly caught them as he hoisted them up and easily slid his cock inside her cunt.

“you did so good, baby,” carlos said, his hips now moving alongside lando as they both fucked her holes like she wasn’t just shaking from the countless orgasms they’ve given her tonight.

“you’re the real champion here,” lando praised her from beneath, his breath rising as his hand snaked up and pinched her nipple. “being a good girl for putting up with our schedules— watching us struggle— you deserve more orgasms than this, babe. y’like it when carlos and i fuck you at the same time?”

all she could do was nod frantically, series of babbling escaping her mouth as she kept her eyes shut.

“of course you do,” lando chuckled. “you’re our greedy girl. our very greedy girl.”

“and us winning means you deserve to celebrate too, princess,” lando crooned. “nobody deserves us and our trophies more than you, baby.”

her walls clenched around the two as the men inaudibly moaned, her walls signaling another orgasm incoming as carlos said, “cum for us, princesa.”

“be a good girl and cum,” lando demanded softly, his thrusts and carlos’s tuning up the pace as they both groaned in pleasure.

“i— shit~”

“good— good, fuck~ so fucking good, baby,” lando gave one more thrust before he came inside her, painting her walls white in pleasure as he let out a strangled moan.

“mierda,” carlos groaned, also cumming inside her as pulled her close and kissed her hard.

she couldn’t even seem to find herself to speak, only resting between the two of them as they wrapped their arms around her and pressed kisses on her face and her body silently.

she mumbled sleepily, “congratulations on the podiums, my loves.”

“thanks, baby,” lando murmured, “but you have to get up so we can take care of you, hm?”

“don’t fall asleep just yet, bebe,” carlos muttered.

what a way to celebrate such a win, indeed.

#carlos sainz smut #lando norris smut #formula one smut #f1 smut #💌 re:moony’s planner #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #lando norris imagine #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz #lando norris #lando x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #♔ something sinful ⎯ f1 smut

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sophsbookstore · 7 months ago

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Exchanged Glances

Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Read pt. 2 here

A/N: Not super edited, I wanted to get it posted before the Grand Prix!

Word count: 1,581

Normally when Charles goes back home to Monaco he has his mom cut his hair. Like clockwork he will arrive at his moms salon, say hello to the various hairdressers and then go to his moms station to get a fresh cut. Only, this time things were different.

A couple days before he was to arrive home Charles called his mom and asked what day she was free to cut his hair, with the upcoming Monaco Grand Prix it, and with it being his home race he was more available for a haircut than ever.

After their brief greetings to one another Charles’ mom told him that she would be out of town up until the day of the race. For the first time since joining formula one his mom wouldn't be able to cut his hair for him before the Monaco Grand prix.

“Don't worry Cha, I can refer you to another hairdresser at the salon.” She offered, trying to give him another solution.

“I don't know, you've always cut my hair, no one else.”

“Then this will be a perfect time for you to step out of your comfort zone. Don't worry I know the perfect person, she’s new, around your age and she's magic in the salon.” Trusting his mom this easies Charles' nerves slightly.

“Ok maman.” The driver sighs in defeat.

“Wonderful! When you go to the salon ask for Y/N.'' With that his mom bid him farewell, telling him when to be at the salon, not going into any more detail about this mysterious hairdresser.

Before he knew it the day had come, he was going to step out of his comfort zone and have a complete stranger touch his hair. He hoped his mom wasn't lying when she was hyping up Y/N and her skills, he didn't want to go to the paddock looking a mess.

Charles enters the salon, all the employees giving him waves and greeting him. He's known some of these people his whole life, whenever he stepped foot in the salon it was like he was being greeted by family.

“Hello Charles, what can I help you with today?” The lady at the front desk asked.

"Hello, yes, my mom told me to ask for Y/N?” The boy shrugged in confusion.

“Oh of course! I'll go get her.” The lady that once sat in front of him was now off searching for the mysterious magic woman that was going to cut his hair.

Charles felt like he was waiting for hours, the salon wasn't that big was it? Maybe it was all in his head. He stood to the side of the waiting area, too consumed with stress to sit down and relax. Before he knew it the front desk lady came back, the woman he assumed to be Y/N trailing behind her.

This is when he finally got to have a good look at her. She was beautiful, why didn't his mom tell him that they started hiring part time models at the salon. The two stood awkwardly, both taking in one another, waiting for someone to make the first move.

Y/N cleared her throat. “Hello Charles, I’m Y/N. just follow me back to my station and we’ll get started”

Charles was too dumbfounded to respond, instead the man stuttered silently before nodding and following Y/N to the back of her salon. During the short walk to her station, Charles thought of questions to ask the beautiful girl, desperately wanting to hear the sound of her voice again.

“Thanks for trusting me with your hair today, your mom told me that you don't really let anyone else cut your hair.” She giggled.

“Oh! Yeah, she's been cutting mine and my brothers hair since we were kids.”

“That's so sweet. I understand where you're coming from I don't let anyone cut my hair, only myself.'' This put Charles at ease. Knowing that she thinks the same way he does, even about something so simple as hair.

After some comfortable small talk Y/N led Charles further back into the salon, sitting the boy down in a chair before leaning him back and washing his hair. The driver seemed to melt in her touch as she ran her fingers through his hair.

When Y/N pulled her hands away to apply more product Charles felt incomplete, like he was missing a sense of stability and peace within himself. Just as soon as she removed her hands she placed them back, continuing to massage his scalp with the shampoo.

Y/N pats Charles’ shoulders signaling to him that the wash was done and that they had to make their way back to her station. Y/N led the way, Charles trailing behind the girl before taking his spot in front of her in the salon chair.

“Are you excited for the grand prix?” Y/N questions taking some of his hair between her fingers, beginning the cut

“Very. I have a good feeling and my son will be there, hopefully we secure P1 and P2.”

“You have a son? What's his name?” Y/N questions, his mom not mentioning anything about a grandson.

“Oh! My apologies he's not really my son. He's a driver on the grid that I've somewhat adopted for the race weekend so that he can claim the Monaco grand prix as his home race.” Charles looks at Y/N hoping she doesn't find what he said both weird and confusing.

“HA!” The hairdresser laughed out loud. “Well congrats to him, I hope he has a fun and successful home race as well. I'll be sure to congratulate your maman about her newly found grandson.”

Charles sat up a little higher in the chair, “Are you coming to the race?”

“I wish I could but I have to work, don't worry though, the salon will be playing the race so everyone can watch.” Y/N stopped cutting for a moment, looking at Charles through the mirror placed in front of them before giving him a warm smile.

Y/N picked up another section of his hair, continuing to snip away leaving Charles to examine the girl through the mirror. Y/N looked up from behind him, making a quick glance at him before the pair broke eye contact, looking separate ways.

Slowly their eyes started moving back to the mirror. The scissors snapping shut as the pair hold eye contact. Charles felt the tip of his ears getting hotter, the pair both noticing one another's subtle hints of red creeping onto their faces.

“Notice anything Mr. Leclerc?” Y/N questions, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

Charles opens his mouth to speak but words don't come out.

“Don't think I haven't noticed the subtle glances, there is either something on my face and you're trying to figure out how to tell me, or something going on in this head of yours.” She turns her attention back to his hair, the haircut almost over.

“I-” he clears his throat, “I was admiring you. You're very good at what you do.”

“I deeply appreciate Charles, truly.” Y/N made her final touches to the haircut. Unbuttoning the cloth that was draped over Charles, before dusting off his shoulders of any hair. “You're all finished, let me find a mirror so you can see the back.”

Y/N walked toward an unknown part of the salon, Charles' eyes following the girl through the mirror until she came back. This is it, if he doesn't say anything now he might never see her again.

The hairdresser came back, handing Charles a small hand held mirror for him to examine the back of his head. He admired her work, impressed with her skills. Placing the mirror down on a ledge near her station he got out of his chair and turned to her.

The two stared at one another, practically chest to chest. “Will you come to the grand prix?” He asked breathlessly.

“Nothing would delight me more but I have to work.” Y/N sighed looking away for a moment before her attention was pulled back to Charles.

“If you can't come to the race can you accompany me for dinner after?” Y/N looked at Charles, her cheeks getting ever so pinker.

“Mr. Leclerc are you asking me on a date?”

“That depends, would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked, not missing a beat.

“Yes Charles, I would love to.”

Charles smiled from ear to ear, desperately wanting to bounce off the walls with excitement, stopping himself before he could embarrass himself. “Then I will see you tomorrow.” He nodded in satisfaction.

“See you tomorrow Charles.” Charles walked away from the hairdresser, giving her a quick glance back before making his way back to the lady at the front desk.

“Hair looks great! What did you think of Y/N?” She asked, ringing him up so he could make his payment.

“She's fantastic, I think maman will have some competition.” The two laughed, Charles paid, giving her a quick goodbye.

As soon as he exited the salon he called his mom, updating her on his post race plans, greatly thanking her for offering Y/N to cut his hair.

#charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader

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makethatelevenrings · 2 years ago

Note

"back off" with Jaason?

TW: patronizing man

Scary dog privileges. That’s what Artemis called it once when she saw him in action.

Even if you were simply stopping by the corner store for some more bananas and yogurt, he was there. Anytime the sun set on Gotham and the criminals began to crawl out of the shadows, you couldn’t go anywhere without your guard dog.

At first it rubbed you the wrong way. Did he not trust you?

But then you learned quickly that it wasn’t you he didn’t trust. It was the leering monsters of Gotham who preyed on young women like you. You found solace in his presence, even if he insisted on following you the ten feet it took you from your work to your front door.

But this was the first time that Jason Todd had to go into scary dog mode during the day.

He had left the table the two of you were occupying so he could go help a woman outside who appeared to be struggling to juggle her grocery bags and her cane. You loved your kindhearted man and savored the sight of the way the corner of his eyes crinkled with his laughter. He took her bags in one of his big, strong hands and offered her his arm which she gladly took. Jason glanced at you through the window and jerked his head towards the left before holding up four fingers.

He wouldn’t be gone long so you could hold down the fort for a bit.

The humid Gotham air caused condensation to gather on the surface of your travel mug and you absentmindedly drew your finger through the droplets as you thumbed through some paperwork that Bruce asked you to take a look at. For Wayne Enterprises, that is. Not the night job.

The Bowery wasn’t just Jason’s territory. You pulled the marionette strings for the daytime practices. As he cleaned up the mob, you focused on filling in the power vacuums left behind by various murders and arrests. Job training programs, continuing education, supporting schools, that was your thing. So when Bruce approached Jason about building a new library in the Bowery, your boyfriend directed his father to you.

You were so engrossed in the details of the building plan that you didn’t look up when the chair across from you pulled away. You assumed it was Jason, of course.

“Did you know your dad wants the entire first floor to be for children and teens while also supplying a social worker program on the second floor for the unhoused?” you mused. When your question went unanswered, you raised your head to find a man who was decidedly not your boyfriend leering at you.

“Can I help you?” you sighed.

“Hi. I’m Mark. I was working over in the corner and noticed that you were really focused. Can I ask what you’re working on?”

“No, but you can fuck off,” you said as politely as your sharp words would allow. “If you saw me sitting here, then you saw my boyfriend seated here too.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I was just looking to make polite conversation but you’re over here jumping to conclusions. Can’t a guy just come say hello?”

You clasped your hands in front of you on the table and leaned forward. “Alright, Mark. What were your intentions when you came over here? Especially since you waited until my boyfriend was gone. That doesn’t seem to be polite conversation but predatory behavior.”

You flashed him a fake smile and batted your lashes. His lips screwed up tightly and he scoffed. “All of you females are the same. I mean, you really thought that I would want to hit on you? How arrogant can you be? Here’s a tip: learn to respect men an-”

He was cut off by a hand curling around the collar of his shirt. Jason yanked Mark up and out of the chair and pulled him in close, his lips peeling back in a sneer.

“Here’s a tip: you see any girl, but especially my girl, and you learn to back off before I break your arm off and shove it down your fucking throat,” Jason growled. You blinked up at the two men and then grinned, leaning your head on your hand and watching as your guard dog went into attack mode.

“Hey man, I was just trying to be friendly,” Mark gasped out. There was no way he could take on the over six foot tall tank that was Jason Todd. Your boyfriend’s jaw clenched and a vein throbbed under his skin, which you really shouldn’t find so hot.

“Yeah? I wasn’t. You should be glad I’m feeling charitable today. Now, you’re gonna pack your shit up and get out of my fucking sight.”

He let go of the weasel and stepped back so his thigh brushed against your shoulder. Jason crossed his arms over his chest, accentuating his already massive form with the bulge of his biceps. Mark raised his hands as he scooched around the mountainous man and darted back to his table.

“Sorry, Mallory,” Jason called to the owner of your favorite cafe. She merely waved him off and shot you a wink. You leaned your head against Jason and raised your hand to settle on his waist but he didn’t relax until Mark was out of the store, the bell ringing behind him as the door slammed shut on his ass.

“He didn’t touch you, right?” Jason asked. His voice still held that sharp edge to it but it softened when he turned to face you. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek and you smiled at his touch.

“No, baby. I wouldn’t let him touch me even if he tried.”

“Good.” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before he rounded the table and settled back in his seat. One of his hands remained clasped over yours as he gazed at you from across the table.

“Guess what your dad wants to do on the first floor?” you asked as you waved the building plans in front of his face.

“Tell me,” he hummed. Jason Todd might be your guard dog, but you never saw his fangs directed at you. Despite his size and stature, he was just a little puppy when it came to you.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #honey's 3k celebration

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chxrryhansen · 10 months ago

Note

STOPPP bc i was just reminded of a fic idea i had but didn’t know how to personally execute

reader eating rafe’s ass 🫣

(specifically dom rafe but once again how would you execute that ?? 😭)

oh its SO ON. i know exactly how to execute this. this shit is my JAM. LET ME FUCKIN COOK. (this is so depraved from me i’m so so sorry). pussy eating + throat fucking + ass eating + ball sucking + cum eating😭😭😭😭

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

you lay on your back on your bed, your legs spread wide as rafe sucks and licks your clit. your hands gripping the sheets in tight fists, moans and whimpers echoing around the room. rafe grips your thighs, spreading them further apart when you attempt to close them, the pleasure becoming all too much.

“pussy tastes so fuckin’ good.” he growls, giving your clit a sloppy kiss before he crawls up the bed, placing both of his legs on either side of your face, his hand grips the base of his shaft as he slaps the tip of his cock on your lips.

“open wide baby, daddy’s gonna’ fuck your throat now.” when you refuse to answer him, keeping your lips sealed, teasing him, he sighs “you really wanna’ play that game? fine.”

his fingers pinch your nose tight, cutting off your air supply, the breath leaving your lungs a lot quicker than one would assume. you fight desperately, thrashing around, but his grip on your head is tight. and when you finally can’t take it anymore, you gasp for breath.

the second your lips part he rams his cock in your throat, gagging you instantly. his hips begin to fuck into your mouth from above, his tip pushing against the walls of your throat with each thrust making your eyes water up as you squeeze them shut.

“you fuckin’ look at me, c’mon slut, look at daddy while he fucks your throat… fuck that feels good.”

he forces the eye contact out of you, making you look him in the eye while his balls slap against your chin and his pre cum leaks onto your tongue, the salty yet sweet taste making you whimper.

suddenly he pulls out with a loud groan, sitting back on your chest, his breathing heavy as he stares down at you, his curtains sticking to his forehead with sweat. swiftly he turns, his cheeks now facing you and you already know what he wants you to do.

and so you lean forward, your tongue delving inbetween his asscheeks, licking his tight hole as he moans, tugging his cock while you eat his ass, lifting your hands to spread his cheeks, giving you better access to his hole. “that’s it, fuck. push your tongue inside you whore.” he moans. and you do. pushing your tongue past his tight entrance, you begin tongue fucking his ass. his groans turning into whimpers as you probe his prostate.

“fuck. your such a whore, you’d let me do anything to you, huh? even got you eating my ass like your fuckin’ starved, filthy girl.” he half growls as orgasm approaches. you give his rim one last kiss before move down, your nose nuzzling his sac before you stick your tongue out, licking and sucking his balls, slobbering all over them, trying desperately to fit his whole sac in your mouth. “ohhh, shitttt.” he whimpers, letting go of his control for a split second before his dominant nature returns.

“you daddy’s sac slut now? bet you would do anything i fuckin’ ask you to, you desperate slut. say it baby, tell daddy how much you love suckin’ his fat fuckin’ balls.”

“love it s’ much, daddy. love the way you taste.” you whine, a string of saliva attached from his sac to your lips.

his cock twitches and his balls tighten, cumming with a loud growl as he sits upright on your stomach, aiming his swollen tip towards your pussy, coating your cunt in his white, salty, goodness, thick ropes of cum sticking to your clit.

and rafe being the depraved man he is, leans his head down, licking and eating his own cum out of your cunt. groaning at his own taste mixed with your juices, making you cry out at the sensation of his tongue on your sensitive pussy.

“has daddy been neglecting you, huh? poor girl, don’t worry baby, daddy’s got all night to eat this sweet cunt. want your juices drippin’ down my face by the time i’m done with you.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe smut #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n

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navybrat817 · 3 months ago

Note

How would Bucky (any of the soft boyfriends like Stud or the Florist) handle it when their girl gets bad news? Like a death in the family or something of that nature? I could use some soft sweet Bucky.

As someone who was hit with unexpected grief this week, it's tough.

Not Okay

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky comforts you after a bad day.

Word Count: Over 900

Warnings: Established relationship, grief, hurt, crying, comfort, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: You're free to picture this as regular Bucky, Stud, our florist, anyone. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You heard a long time ago that grief comes in waves. Or did it flow through people like a river? Perhaps both. One moment you were fine and then the next you felt as if the tide would sweep you away. It pulled you under, the pain and sorrow like weights dragging you down. It was dark. Hopeless. You feared you wouldn't be able to surface again.

And then out of nowhere, light sometimes burst through the grief like a guiding hand.

“Hey.” A familiar voice beckoned you to pull yourself out of your throbbing head, to not drown in your sorrow. “Are you okay?”

With blurry eyes, you looked up to find Bucky standing over you with concern written all over his handsome face. When did he come in and when had you collapsed on the couch? It was too much of an effort to make it to your bedroom at the time. Why was grief so tiring? Why were normal tasks so hard to manage?

Bucky crouched down, hesitating for a moment as he reached for you. “Is it okay if I touch you?” He asked. Sniffling, you gave him a nod. It meant the world that he asked. The warmth of his touch seeped into you as he helped you sit up, his hands moving up and down your arms in a comforting motion. Why were you so cold? “Can you tell me what's wrong?” He reached up to brush a tear away with his thumb.

There were so many unspoken questions in his stare. What happened? Who did this to you? Are you hurt? How can I make it better? Are you going to be okay? You sensed how badly he wanted to comfort and protect you from whatever he could. He was the kind of man who would have spared you pain and taken it into himself if he had the ability to do so.

How did you get so lucky?

"I…" To say nothing would've been a lie since you were clearly hurting. To say everything also would've been a lie. You were still breathing and had a roof over your head. Tears ran down your cheeks, so you were still feeling and that was better than being numb to it all. You had Bucky. Those were all good things, things to be thankful for.

But not every day could be warmth and smiles. Today was a day of coldness and tears and you were in the eye of the storm, the screams in your head drowned out by the rest of the noise. You had to push through because once the dust settled the sun would come out again. It seemed so far away though, so out of reach.

Bucky wiped another tear, not pushing you to say more. Why couldn't you just tell him what was wrong? It should've been an easy question to answer, but being vulnerable and talking about feelings rarely was. It was like cutting open your own heart and asking someone else to stop the bleeding.

I’m in pain, Bucky. It hurts. It hurts so much and it isn’t fair. Please, take it away. If you can’t take it away, please, make it better somehow. I don’t want to carry this alone.

Maybe that’s why the words were stuck in your throat. You didn’t want your burden to become his. How was that fair? But looking into his blue eyes, you were reminded that relationships were about give and take. Some days you’d have to carry each other through the dark times and other days he’d lift you up. The scale would tip until it balanced again.

That was love.

“I got some bad news today,” you finally whispered, trying not to shatter into a million pieces. Grief didn’t care if you wanted to stay whole or not. It would find the smallest of cracks and burst through whether you wanted it to or not.

Bucky nodded in understanding, still not pressuring you to say more. He knew you’d tell him exactly what happened once you were ready. “I’ll order us something for dinner,” he offered. If he cooked for you, he’d be apart from you for too long. Ordering would allow him to stay with you if you needed him. And you had to eat. “And maybe a movie on the couch under a blanket?” He suggested, so you wouldn’t have to move out of the room if you didn’t want to.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You tried to give him a smile after he kissed your forehead. “Thanks.”

“What else can I do?” He asked, searching your face for the answer. “Please, tell me.”

“Just hold me,” you answered. A simple request, but one that took a lot to ask for.

He gathered you into his arms and held you tight, allowing you to stain his shirt with your tears. Crying helped you cleanse your soul, allowing you to let go of things unsaid and slowly start anew. He gently rocked you as the sobs faded to tiny sniffles and he whispered how much he loved you. Through your crying you said you loved him, too. You’d always love him.

Time passed as he continued to hold you, neither of you wanting to move. The hurt didn’t fade completely, but him being your rock and wrapping you up in love was the soothing balm you needed. And for today, that was more than enough.

We could all use a Bucky. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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ellieswrldd · 1 year ago

Text

drunk in love

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: when a hot stranger stands up for you at a club and offers to buy you a drink, how could you say no?

content warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, public sex (public bathroom), drunk sex (reader is tipsy, ellie is high), strap-on use (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), ellie calls the strap her cock, reader is shorter than ellie, brief weed use, alcohol, use of term 'pretty girl' & she/her pronouns on reader, creepy guy hits on reader, brief slut shaming. https://open.spotify.com/track/6jG2YzhxptolDzLHTGLt7S?si=9940e02d8b1743a6

With loud party songs blasting around you and your friends shouting drunkenly in your ears, you could hardly form a coherent thought. It didn’t help that your mind was already a bit hazy from the few drinks you’d downed at the beginning of the night when your best friend Dina had bought you and all your friends several rounds of drinks to celebrate her engagement. That’s why you all were here after all, it was Dina’s bachelorette party, and she had chosen to get wasted at a popular nightclub in your city.

It was clear that every girl you’d come with was already drunk, making you the soberest one of your friend group, despite being more than buzzed. As they danced wildly on the dance floor, you found yourself in need of fresh air. The club was packed full of sweaty, drunk partygoers, and all the movement and lack of space made it difficult to enjoy yourself. Waving to your friends to let them know where you were headed, you pushed through the throng of people surrounding you until you saw the exit.

Once outside the building, you took a deep breath and leaned against the scratchy brick wall. The air was cool and brisk against your exposed skin, the consequence of wearing such a revealing outfit. Dina had persuaded you to wear a revealing sequined top with a matching miniskirt that just barely showed the crease where your ass met your thighs. It was impractical, that was certain, but something about dressing so provocatively to go out with your friends boosted your confidence.

You rubbed at your bare arms as you let out a long sigh. In your peripheral, you saw a tall man approaching you cautiously. Gnawing on your lower lip, you straightened up slightly, glancing around at the other people loitering around the building.

“Hey there,” His deep voice broke the peaceful silence. You turned to eye him for a moment before looking away.

“...Can I help you?” You muttered, your voice dripping with annoyance. The man chuckled softly and cleared his throat.

“I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink or something. You’re like exactly my type, and–” He said as he leaned against the wall. You shifted uncomfortably and glanced up at him.

“Not interested, sorry.” You cut him off and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You didn’t even let me finish my sentence!” He laughed sharply as if he was in disbelief that you had rejected him so suddenly.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m not interested. Would you just leave me alone now?” The words sounded monotone and bored as they came from your mouth.

“Listen, I was trying to be nice and give you a good time, but clearly, a bitch like you can’t appreciate a good guy when she comes across one.” He scoffed. “You’re lucky I even offered. You’re dressed like a total slut. Most guys want their women with a little bit of taste.” You spun on your heels to face him, your expression a mix of anger and disbelief.

“Hey, dickhead, she asked you to leave her alone. Get over yourself and go home.” A woman shouted from behind you. You turned curiously and glanced over at a young woman only a few feet away.

She was leaning against the wall, joint burning between her lips, her green eyes trained on you. She took a long drag from her joint and exhaled as she let it fall to the cement and put it out with her shoe. With a few long strides, she stood at your side, glaring up at the man without a hint of fear in her eyes.

He scoffed and looked from her to you.

“Man, fuck this.” He muttered before turning to walk away. You let out a deep sigh and slowly looked up at the girl.

Now that she was in front of you, you could fully take in her features. Her short, auburn hair was in a messy mullet style, one that complimented her strong jawline. Her cheeks were speckled with an array of freckles and her face was decorated with a few faded scars; one that split one of her eyebrows, one on her cheekbone, and one on her upper lip. She intrigued you. Your attraction to her was hard to describe, she was different than your usual type, and your meeting was slightly embarrassing, but the way her eyes transfixed on you made you wonder about her.

“Sorry ‘bout that, I didn’t mean to interfere. He was just being an asshole, and I thought he might try to do something to you.” She muttered, sliding her hands into the pockets of her washed-out jeans. The corner of your mouth twitched upward into an almost smile.

“I appreciate it,” You stuck out a hand and introduced yourself.

“Ellie Williams,” She shook your hand and smiled. “I was going to head inside and get myself a drink if you’re interested in joining. I’d love to buy you a drink if you’d let me.” Ellie looked at you with a sly, confident smirk that made your stomach flip.

You laughed softly and nodded. “I think I’d like that, Ellie.” She bites her bottom lip and opens the door for you before following you inside the club. With Ellie trailing behind you, you approach the bar and push past the people standing around to flag down a bartender.

Ellie looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell her what you wanted to drink. “Just a dirty Martini, thanks.” You chuckled softly as she nodded. Waving to a bartender, Ellie ordered for you and a simple Rum & Coke for herself.

You snuck a glance at her hands as she took the drinks from the bartender. Her fingers were long and slender, decorated in an array of silver rings. Your eyes trailed upward from her hands to her forearms. Her arms were toned with muscles, her right forearm marked with a dark tattoo that sprawled from her wrist to her elbow. Despite her sleeves being pushed up to her elbows, you could see a few dark lines poking out from underneath, presumably other tattoos that were covered up unintentionally.

Ellie passed you your drink and cleared her throat. “I’m going to sound so cliche, but what brings you here?” She kept her gaze trained on your face as she took a sip from her glass.

“It’s my friend’s bachelorette! She’s over there–” You pointed to the dance floor, quickly directing Ellie to Dina, who was wearing a white pantsuit and an obnoxiously bejeweled white veil that you had bought her from Party City the day before. “Everyone’s very drunk, but I haven’t had nearly as much to drink as they have.” You laughed as you watched Dina jump into the arms of another friend of yours.

Your gaze soon returned to Ellie, feeling your cheeks grow hot as you caught her staring at you. “And what about you? Do you always sulk around clubs and save girls from seedy guys?” Ellie let out a choked laugh at your words, setting her drink down on the countertop.

Ellie leaned in close, her lips gently brushing against your ear as she said, “Just the pretty ones.”

You giggled and tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach that her touch had caused. “My knight in shining armor,” The words left you sarcastically.

The feeling flowing throughout your body slightly confused you; it had been a while since you had successfully hit it off with another woman, let alone one that made you weak in the knees with her gaze alone.

“In all seriousness though…I sell weed here on occasion. Just happened to be smoking outside when I saw you.” She looked down at the floor briefly, tapping her fingers along the rim of her glass.

You looked up at her as you bit your lip. “I’m glad you were there, Ellie.” You touch her arm gently as you speak. She smiled softly, and you could’ve sworn you saw the faintest tint of a blush on her cheeks, but then again, the flashing lights made it hard to see.

As the song playing transitioned into a familiar beat, your eyes widened, and you looked up at Ellie excitedly. “Oh my god! This is one of my favorite songs!” You exclaimed, voice rising so she could hear you. “Ellie, come dance with me!” You proposed with a wide grin, not leaving her with much of an option as you were already tugging her toward the swarm of people on the dance floor.

Despite her cool exterior, the second you pulled Ellie into the crowd, she was laughing and singing beside you. Still, she was a bit awkward when it came to the dancing, but it’s not like anybody was paying any attention to you two.

Without saying a word, you grabbed Ellie’s hands and moved them to rest on your hips, spinning around to turn your back to her. Ellie let out a shaky breath, confident you wouldn’t hear it over all the noise. You were pushed up against her, swaying your hips in accordance with the song, gently grinding against Ellie’s hips with every movement.

It didn’t take long for Ellie to catch onto what you were thinking, her grip on your hips tightening. She gently pressed her lips against your earlobe, her hot breath fanning across the sensitive skin. You leaned your head back against her shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as her lips slowly traveled from your earlobe to your exposed neck.

It was difficult to tell if the giddiness you were experiencing was caused by the drinks you’d had or if it was Ellie’s touch alone that had your body burning with desire. Either way, you found yourself desperate to feel her body against yours.

Settling a hand on top of Ellie’s, you craned your head to the side to face her. With your free hand, you gently held the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Ellie was quick to return the kiss, her slightly chapped lips moving hungrily against yours. She groaned softly as she tasted your sweet lip gloss on her mouth.

You turned to face her, breathing heavily. “I need you,” The words left you in a needy whisper, but even when the blaring music drowned out your plead, Ellie saw the movement of your pretty lips and knew exactly what you were saying. Three words, three syllables, ‘I need you.’

The two of you hurried over to the nearest women’s bathroom, kissing one another needily the minute the door closed behind you. You pulled Ellie into one of the stalls, locking the door with a shaky hand as she pressed your body against it.

Ellie was anything but shy when it came to touching you. Her hands roamed your body presumptuously, her hands wandering from your hips to your chest all while she kissed you passionately.

While kissing you, Ellie bit your bottom lip playfully, quickly running her tongue along your lip afterward. As your tongues intertwined and slid against one another, Ellie nudged her leg in between yours, gently rubbing her thigh against your clothed pussy. You let out a muffled moan against her lips as you rubbed your cunt against her leg.

“Fuck…” She groaned, watching you grind against her helplessly. Ellie could see you were overcome with lust, and so was she. Gently, Ellie tugged down your sequined top, allowing your breasts to spill out for her to see. She kissed along your jaw, her kisses quickly turning from innocent pecks to hungry suckling, leaving purplish-red hickeys in her trail. As her lips traveled across your jawline and neck, those long, slim fingers of hers started to toy with your hardened nipples. Quiet gasps and moans fell from your glossy lips as she pinched and rolled your buds in between her calloused fingers.

“Ellie…” You whined as you moved your hips against her thigh, desperate for some sort of release.

She chuckled and pulled away from your neck to look down at you. “So needy…” Ellie mumbled. She unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down just far enough to reveal the strap-on toy she was wearing. It was purple and obscenely large, with a few thick veins detailing the sides of the dildo. You stared down at the toy in surprise, looking back up at Ellie with wide eyes. “Do you always wear that around?” You murmured, glancing down at the strap again.

“Just when I’m trying to get laid,” Ellie remarked, laughing quietly as she kissed your cheek. You giggled and brought your lips to hers.

“Ellie, there’s no way that thing will fit inside me.” You whispered against her lips as you felt her hands gently moving your skirt up your hips. “I’ll be careful and go slow…don’t worry,” She reassured you. “And if you really want me to stop, just tell me, and I will.”

You nodded and let her pull the sequined skirt above your hips, revealing the simple black panties you wore underneath. You heard her breath hitch at the sight, and you felt your face grow hot as she glanced from your clothed cunt to your face. Without much of a warning, Ellie placed her hands under your thighs and gently picked you up, pinning you against the stall door and holding you up.

Gently, Ellie rubbed her middle finger up and down your panties, groaning softly when she felt the wet spot your slick had created. “So fucking wet…” She commented quietly, as she pushed your sheer panties to the side and revealed your pussy. Ellie circled your clit slowly with her thumb, using every bit of self-control to stop herself from whoring you out on her strap right then and there.

“Please, Ellie,” You moaned and clutched her shoulders tightly. Ellie inhaled sharply and nodded. She carefully slid a finger inside your aching slit, biting her lip as she watched her finger disappear inside of you. You hugged her, burying your face into her neck as your breathy moans and gasps filled her ears. Soon, Ellie added a second finger as she whispered sweet praise to you. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl…” She said with her lips pressed against your ear. “Jus’ gotta get you ready for my cock,” Her teeth sunk into your earlobe just enough to get you to whimper loudly. “I’m ready, please– I need it,” You begged her, eyes glossy with tears of sexual frustration. Surely part of your neediness was because of the alcohol, but you couldn’t deny that everything about Ellie made you feel excited. In all honesty, you couldn’t remember the last time you were so desperate to hook up with someone, let alone in the bathroom of a busy club.

Ellie chuckled softly and kissed your cheek. “Okay, but tell me if you want to stop, alright?” You whined softly as she pulled her fingers out and gently rubbed the strap along your dripping entrance. Slowly, she pushed the tip past your slick folds and into your cunt, earning a deep moan from your lips.

“Oh my god, Ellie,” You squeezed your eyes shut while she continued to push further inside you. “It’s so big…” You cried.

“I know, but you can take it, pretty girl…I know you can…” Ellie cooed, her fingers digging into the exposed skin of your thighs.

The slow pace she was moving at was practically torturous, but when she finally slid the full length of the strap into you, you knew the wait had been worth it. Ellie began to thrust into you, cautiously at first, as if she was scared to hurt you, but when she saw how much of a mess you were already, she couldn’t help but pound into you relentlessly.

It took every ounce of your strength to refrain from screaming and moaning her name; the two of you were fucking in a public space after all. So, with a hand covering your mouth, you let out choked, muffled moans with every jerk of Ellie’s hips. It didn’t take long for Ellie to find that spot deep inside of you that almost made you scream when she hit it with the tip of her strap.

Your eyes were watering and glossy, hot tears threatening to spill down your face. A small smile spread across your face as you felt your walls tightening and your orgasm building up inside of you. It appeared that Ellie could see how close you were as her pace sped up and fucked into you without remorse.

You opened your mouth to tell her how good it felt when you both heard the bathroom door slam open and bang against the wall. Ellie froze, eyes wide as the two of you listened to a group of girls file into the bathroom. They talked loudly, shrill laughter echoing throughout the room as they conversed. After a few moments, most of the group had left, but you could still hear a couple of girls talking.

“God, this fucking pantsuit is so itchy…” Your eyes widened as you realized one of the girls talking was Dina.

“At least you’re not wearing a miniskirt! This thing keeps riding up,” Another one of your friends responded. Ellie looked down at you, slightly confused as to why you seemed so shocked.

“Those are my friends!” You whispered to Ellie. Her eyebrows raised slightly before a mischievous grin began to form on her face.

“Hey, have any of you seen y/n?” Dina asked.

“Not since she stepped out for air– maybe we should look for her.” Ellie bit her lip and slowly thrust her hips upward, causing your eyes to roll back and a wrangled gasp to escape you.

“Y/n, you in here?” One of the girls called out. Ellie looked down at you, her eyes dark and full of lust. She shook her head, silently telling you to keep quiet. Ellie placed a hand over your mouth and paused for a moment to readjust herself before thrusting into you once again. She plunged into you rigorously, smirking as hot tears began to fall down your cheeks.

“Guess not. Let’s go see if she’s outside,” Dina suggested. In just a minute, the girls had filed out of the bathroom, leaving you and Ellie alone once again.

“Almost got us caught, couldn’t keep quiet, could you? Huh?” Ellie mumbled once the door slammed shut.

“F-Feels so good,” You sobbed as your walls clenched tightly around the strap. Ellie pulled your body as close to hers as she could and kissed you. It was a messy kiss, saliva trickling from your lips as you pulled away to cry out something incoherent. Ellie groaned softly as she felt the base of the strap grind against her puffy clit with every deep thrust inside of you.

Ellie felt like she was going insane as she watched you take her strap. Your makeup was smudged and running down your face with your tears, your breasts bounced with every move of Ellie’s hips, and your lips were shiny with drool. You looked so fucked out, so pretty, and you hadn’t even cum yet. The scene in front of Ellie was pornographic, and she couldn’t get enough of it. The way you cried her name every time she hit that spot deep inside you made her want to make you hers right then and there, but she knew better than to ruin the mood with her nonsense. Better to save it for later after taking you on a date, something romantic like that.

“God, you should see yourself right now, lookin’ so pretty while you take my cock…” Ellie moaned softly before she nuzzled her face in your neck.

“Ellie- I’m gonna cum!” You gasped as your legs began to shake. Her fingers moved against your clit quickly while she continued to thrust at the same relentless pace.

“Oh yeah? Gonna cum all over my fucking strap?” She muttered teasingly. You let out a choked sob and nodded. Ellie grinned and kissed your neck softly. “I know you are, pretty girl.” She breathed heavily against your sensitive skin. Based on the sounds she was making as her hips stuttered, you guessed she was on the brink of an orgasm. You were proud to see it– you wanted to see her cum just as badly.

Quickly after Ellie spoke, you felt the tension in your stomach unravel. Your orgasm came over you like a tsunami, your vision going white with pleasure. Ellie’s thrusts turned sloppy as she too began to climax, small moans and whimpers escaping her. The base of the strap was rubbing against her clit so perfectly that it was hard for her to focus on anything else. Pleasure coursed through every part of your body as you cried out and spasmed in Ellie’s arms, her incoherent mumbles of praise reassuring you.

Slowly, you both regained your composure after your orgasms had fizzled out. Ellie gently pulled the strap out and helped you stand, resting a hand on your lower back as she did so. You adjusted your panties and skirt before tugging your top back up. Ellie’s hands traced the hem of your skirt as she pulled you in for a sweet kiss.

“For what it’s worth, I think that skirt looks stunning on you.” She whispered, a dazed smile on her face. You giggled and snaked your arms around her waist.

“Not too slutty?” Ellie shook her head and gently wiped your runny makeup off your cheeks.

“Not at all– I think it’s very tasteful.” She kissed you, her hand gently squeezing your hip.

“I like you, Williams.” You murmured as her lips left yours. She chuckled softly and looked down at you.

“Well, I like you too.” Ellie ran a calloused thumb over your cheekbone. “Can I take you out on a date? I’ll make it worth your while…” You giggled and nodded. She kissed your cheek and jaw a few times, her lips curling into a giddy smile.

“I’d like that,” You bit your lip in an attempt to hide the stupidly large grin on your face. Taking her hand and intertwining your fingers, you stood on the tips of your toes and gave her a long, caring kiss. “Why don’t we get out of this bathroom? My friends are looking for me, and I don’t want to worry them too much.”

Ellie nodded and squeezed your hand reassuringly. “Let’s go. I’m dying to dance with you again anyways.” Her voice teasing but still genuine.

You reunited with Dina at the bar, Ellie trailing close behind you. Dina glanced at Ellie and back at you with a curious expression.

“Ellie, would you give us a minute?” You asked her sweetly. She nodded and walked away, muttering something about grabbing some water. “Who is that?” Dina asked, watching intensely as Ellie walked away.

“It’s a long story–” Dina’s sharp laugh interrupted you.

“You fucked her, didn’t you! You dirty dog!” She gasped dramatically, and you both broke out into laughter.

“How can you tell?”

“You have hickeys all over you, and your makeup is smudged– I’d be stupid if I didn’t notice,” Dina stated and crossed her arms over her chest.

You giggled and shrugged. “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow when you’re sober.” Dina grinned and nodded.

“Well, go and get her! She can come party with us!” Dina exclaimed and waved Ellie over. Ellie was quick to join you two, her arm sliding around your waist as she stood beside you.

“Dance with me?” You asked as you looked up to meet her gaze.

“Always,” She chuckled.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

a/n: this was literally supposed to be a quick lil drabble but here i am with 4k words...im proud of this tho <33

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