#I’ve also been hesitant to experiment like this so
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
x : LUST FOR LIFE *+゚
in which: sunday discovers a new emotion when he's under you.
warnings: 1.5k words, sunday is B(h)ORNY and doesn't know how to deal with it, he wants reader so bad, lowkey implied switch!sunday, gn!reader being sunday's freak awakening, NO SMUT BUT UNDER 16 DNI, not edited
a/n: five likes and i'll write nsfw for sunday
What good is a leader who can’t empathise with the lives of the people he was supposed to be leading?
This thought has plagued Sunday ever since he exiled himself from Penacony, since he joined the Astral Express in a journey of self-discovery and reflection, embracing the Nameless lifestyle so he can broaden the horizons that Penacony had restricted. There, he was so detached from the reality of the people he was trying to help, so trapped in a whirlwind of his own ideals to experience humanity, too buried in official duties to rejoice in the many wonders of the universe, the simple pleasures and the grandiose ones.
Since boarding, the former head of the Oak Family has experienced humiliation, desperation, and many close calls with death. It seems he underestimated how easily trouble found the Trailblazers, and the diary he carries with him has been updated with multiple entries, filled with exasperated recounts that ended with him being grateful that he is still well and unscathed.
Sunday has also experienced laughter, connection, and the bond of humankind- something he did not have before. When he controlled the Oak Family, had everyone under or at his fingertips, the only person he could depend on was himself. When Robin left to travel the cosmos, what was he to do than learn the bitter truth of independence and self-sufficiency?
Yet, he sits on the couches of the Astral Express and there is bound to be another by him, trying to converse with him like an old friend. He is mentioned in the conversations like an individual who they keep around because they want to, not because he is crafty, not because of what he can offer. No, he can’t offer anything right now, and the crew still wants him to stay.
He learns more about humanity with each passing day.
However, perhaps one of the more puzzling feelings Sunday has had to confront was… infatuation.
It’s a tricky feeling. It sends his heart into overdrive and his limbs to become jelly, and at the epicentre of this hurricane of uncharted territory, is you.
“Sunday?” Your voice comes through muffled from the other side of the door. He almost jumps off his mattress at the sound.
“Door is open,” he responds as calmly as possible, heart thrumming alive at the sound of your voice, beating in time with the rapid succession of your knocks.
The door slides open slowly to reveal you on the other side. “Pom Pom just wanted to let everyone know that we will be jumping soon.”
“I see, thank you for letting me know.”
“No problem,” your gaze then flickers to the angels that flock around him and he watches as your eyes gleam with fascination.
Then, without any hesitation or reluctance, you enter his room and approach him, the door sliding closed without your weight to hold it open. You stop before him without a bow, without a formal greeting of ‘Mr. Sunday’- no, you stop before him like an equal, which you most certainly are. In fact, he would even think of himself below you, but Sunday needs to unlearn this assumption of hierarchy, needs to not let it define the relationships he forms, even if he looks up to you and finds you reverent.
“Hey, I’ve never seen these little guys before!” You exclaim, sticking out a hand to act like a perch for the angel-like summons. One of them flits up to you and stays on your outstretched finger. “Well, not this close, at least.”
It keens at your praise. Like owner like summon, Sunday supposes.
“I don’t tend to bring them out. They are for combat purposes,” he explains.
Your eyes widen slightly. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?”
“What? No! That’s not it-”
“-I’m kidding, Sunday,” you snicker. “We’re friends, I wouldn’t want to fight you.”
“Right,” he exhales, “I wouldn’t want to fight you either.”
“Besides, we already did once.”
He freezes at the memory, remembers when he got hit with the exact train he is currently boarding.
You, however, are unphased by the recollection, and even continue to rub salt in the wound. “I remember fighting against these little summons too, your owner was a real meanie, do you guys know that?”
They flock around you, spinning and fluttering like little fireflies. Instinctively, Sunday covers his flustered expression with his wings, and he doesn’t budge, even when he hears your laugh, the sound almost enough for him to melt into a puddle by your feet.
“Hey, hey, I was kidding, sorry if I took the joke too far.”
He uncovers himself with an embarrassed sigh, not meeting your eyes. “It’s okay, I think the memory is just… humiliating, more than anything.”
“There are no more hard feelings. Everyone has accepted you on board and none of us think of you to be the same person you were when we first met, I promise.”
Your words are completely earnest, Sunday knows it, can feel it in the way you tell him so unabashedly. So who is he to deny it?
“Thank you,” he says, finally looking up at you, “it means a lot to hear that.”
“I’ll say it as much as you need. Well, I’ll get out of your hair now, just prepare for the jump-”
Your sentence is interrupted by a shriek when you lose your footing, and Sunday feels it too, the force so strong that even he, while sitting, feels as if is being stretched and pulled into a miniscule hole. What he also feels is your body colliding on top of his, and his hands come to your waist to catch you in an attempt to prevent you from slipping, but it’s not enough and he’s falling with you onto the expanse of his made bed.
The Express is warping to some expanse of the universe, and his stomach drops at the sensation, spreading to the ends of his nerves before disappearing, just replaced by the extremely odd feeling of being pulled through the stars. He just hopes you’re comfortable, standing up whilst warping is tough, he heard the stories of when Stelle first tried to do it and how she fell flat on her face.
When the feeling of normality returns and Sunday doesn’t feel like he has been stretched out, he opens his eyes and tries to take in the sight before him.
You. Your face. Centimetres away from his.
He’s always thought you were pretty, but seeing you this close… perhaps just pretty is an understatement. His gaze unwillingly flicks to your lips and he wished he hadn’t because suddenly the urge to sit up and lick into your mouth is raging; a fire that can’t be contained.
Sunday wants you to push him down by the shoulders, with no gentleness or mercy, and just… devour him whole. His hands want to find you by the hips and pull you into him more than humanly possible, he wants you to indent yourself onto him so he can remember your taste forever, so that, in a way, you couldn’t ever leave him.
Alternatively, he would happily flip around and pin you against the mattress. He would pry you open, explore the cavern of your mouth with his tongue and suck your sacred essence out of you so that it can stay and settle in his bones instead, replacing where marrow should be. He wants to lay you vulnerable so his hands can explore places only you want him to touch, wants to take you so that you stay forever, wants to feel your tongue against his, wants to hold your face and feel how you react when he takes his time cherishing you, revering you.
This feeling is too much, these thoughts are overpowering, yet nothing has ever been more clear. Sunday wants you, lusts for you, even, and he’s never felt so intensely for someone before.
How would the symphonies sound when they learn of the atrocities he wants to perform?
Temptation holds him close and infects him with a desire so strong, he’s practically frozen in place as you recover from the shock, holding yourself up with your arms that were on either side of his head.
“Ow, I’m sorry!” You immediately exclaim, before realising exactly what position you are in, your chests are pressed together, and you’re mortified to think about how close you were before you picked yourself off him, and- his… his hips… are pressed against yours- okay, you needed to leave as soon as possible.
You scramble off him like he had burnt you, frantically shouting apologies whilst doing so, the words clumsy and rushed, but neither of you can deny how you miss the warmth that was suddenly ripped away.
(If he wanted to, you could have stayed in that position with him.)
Then, before you could get anymore thoughts, you turn and practically bolt out of his room without another word, leaving a hot and bothered Sunday behind.
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#earthtooz: honkai star rail#sunday x reader#hsr x reader#sunday hsr x reader#sunday fluff#honkai star rail x reader
500 notes
·
View notes
Text
“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k
worst!logan howlett x f!reader
SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.
A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.
** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.
*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)
**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)
special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever
The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.
Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.
Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you.
Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.”
Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.
The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend.
You:
cutie patootie alert
there’s this really handsome guy at the bar
i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before
i think i’m in love with him
my night just got a 100% better
Allison:
age
what does he look like
is he bald?
You:
he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here
brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong
i didn’t stare at him for too long
otherwise that would’ve been very weird
and no he’s not fucking bald
that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair
Allison:
so you’re dating retired now
get it grandma!
You:
oh fuck you allison
Allison:
it’s okay girl we all have our flaws
just make sure it’s nobody’s father
wait it’s not mine right?
You:
nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it
Allison:
bitch
Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.
“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.
The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”
Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”
Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss.
Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”
The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.
“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”
Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.”
“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”
Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.
“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features.
“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”
(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)
He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.
“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”
“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules.
“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up.
You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.
“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”
Yeah… that you knew.
It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.
As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.
“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.
“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”
“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”
For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”
“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.
“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”
His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”
“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”
“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”
“Look, Wolvie. I–”
“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”
“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”
You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.
Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”
The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”
“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”
“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”
A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”
“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”
“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”
“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”
Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”
“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”
“Me neither.”
“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”
You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”
Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”
But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”
The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.
(But you aren’t.)
His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”
“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”
Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”
“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”
“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”
As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.
What the fuck had just happened?
“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”
She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”
You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”
After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.
Your savior complex strikes again!
It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail.
Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”
Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.
“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”
“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”
“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”
“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”
You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”
“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”
“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.
Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.
“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients.
“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?
“You sure?”
“Affirmative.”
“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”
“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”
“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.
“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”
“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”
Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”
Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.
“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”
Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”
“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”
“What? No.”
“Why not? She’s cute.”
Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.
Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”
“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.
After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”
You could die at peace.
“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”
“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”
“Now why would you think that?”
“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”
“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.
“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”
“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”
“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.
He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”
Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”
His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”
This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.
“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.
“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”
You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.
Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.
Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”
You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”
“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment.
Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”
“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”
“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”
Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”
“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”
“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”
“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”
When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”
“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you.
Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”
“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”
From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”
“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”
“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”
“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”
“Go fuck yourself, will you?”
“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”
Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?
Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.
“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.
You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”
Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”
You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”
He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?
“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”
He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him.
“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”
You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”
The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”
“I just... I want to understand you better.”
“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”
He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”
With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.
“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”
“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”
The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his.
Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”
Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”
But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”
Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”
You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”
He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”
“Should I give you some space?”
That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”
“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”
“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”
“God, do you ever shut up?”
You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.
“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat.
“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”
“Am I that easily replaced?”
“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”
Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.
Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.
He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?
It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.
Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?
“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.
“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”
The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic.
“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”
“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”
You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.
“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”
“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”
“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”
“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”
“Careful.”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”
You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”
His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”
“Get your hands off her.”
Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on.
“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”
“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”
Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?”
The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”
“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.
“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.
“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.
“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”
“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”
The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”
Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”
“Don’t. Now is not the time.”
“I was protecting you.”
“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.
Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”
You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”
“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”
“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”
His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”
“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”
You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days.
“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.
“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”
In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.
“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”
“Right here? On the counter?”
“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”
“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”
“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.
“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”
“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”
“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”
“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”
His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”
“L-logan–”
“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”
You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”
With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you.
“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”
He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble.
“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”
“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”
Who had given him a damn script for this?
The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.
Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”
And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.
“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”
You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”
“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”
Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”
part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett#logan howlett x you#wolverine#wolverine smut#wolverine fic#wolverine fanfiction#deadpool and wolverine#the wolverine#wolverine x men#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#x men movies#x men#the last of us fanfiction#smut#fluff#wolverpool#deadpool 3#deadpool#logan x reader#logan xmen#logan x you#james logan howlett#hugh jackman#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan wolverine
11K notes
·
View notes
Text
Deflowered. (Laios Touden x Reader)
content. virginity loss (laios), fluff. a metric ton of it. there's also emotional crying so. watch out.
reader's past/experiences/looks are not mentioned. I wrote this as more as an immersive means of sex with Laios, so physical and mental feelings are the main point. reader has a pussy (for the sake of writing) but this fic is still pretty gender neutral. If you are not a vagina haver/enjoyer/whatever you can gloss over it w/o much issue.
words like pretty/beautiful/etc. are used but in reference to reader AND Laios. gender equality or whatever.
author's note. This fic is one of my aforementioned stretch goals from my fundraiser for Palestine! So yay, thanks so much everyone for funding it!
word count. 6.7k+ (I went too hard on this.)
Like my writing? Toss a dono to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund and join the Fic Raffle! (I will kiss u fully on the mouth).
“Laios…are you even into sex?”
It’s a question he never really saw coming, but now, five months into your relationship, it’s hitting him like a train. You’re looking at him with genuine curiosity, no judgment. It’s simply a question.
“Well…um…”
The blonde has to take a moment to compose himself before answering the question. Despite his closeness to you, discussion of such intimate topics does still escape him.
“I can’t say I’m not interested.” He speaks, now finding his hands much more interesting to stare at than your gaze. “I’ve never really considered how to approach the topic.”
“But you’re interested?” You lean forward a bit. “Do you want to have sex with me?” Usually, you wouldn’t think to be so bold. But conversations with Laios require a certain amount of directness. You don’t want to leave anything up to interpretation.
Laios’s cheeks begin to turn pink. He looks to you now, and it’s obvious the action requires a vast amount of courage from the man.
“I do. I’m…very attracted to you.” He admits.
It’s reassuring to hear him say it out loud. It’s been a long while since you’ve been lusting after him. Spending so much time without acting on it, you weren’t sure if you could take it much longer.
“Good.” You smile to yourself, before continuing. “So…are we going to do anything about it, or…?”
The last sentence is said more in a teasing manner. You’re hoping to break the tension between you and Laios a tad. However, he doesn’t seem especially moved. His gaze leaves you once more.
“I’ve…I’ve never…” He hesitates. “You’d be my first.”
That revelation has you shocked…at least, sort of. Laios is handsome and well-built, but he’s awfully busy. You weren’t surprised to be his first steady relationship, but to be his first time…? Not even a quick romp when he was in the military? Or moving with the caravan? That’s…surprising. But not totally uninvited.
“So you’re a virgin.”
Laios looks ashamed when you say it out loud. He knows that an average man of his age should have a plethora of experience under his belt.
“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to. I’ve never really had a chance.”
Laios’s face burns. It’s embarrassing to speak the truth. You must be disappointed to be with a man like him. A man, psh, if he can even call himself such…
Before his mind can continue its self-deprecating spiral, your voice cuts through the strife.
“I’d be honored to change that, if you’d let me.”
You keep your tone and demeanor sincere. You accentuate this feeling by placing your hand on his knee, reassuringly giving it a squeeze.
Laios looks shocked. Yet…happy. He’s happy. Of course. He should’ve expected this reaction from you. Why was he nervous in the first place? You’re wonderful.
“You want to…copulate with me?”
You snicker. Leave it to Laios to make things abruptly technical. Despite his interest, he’s clearly not fully comfortable with this situation just yet.
“Yes, Laios. I do in fact want to copulate with you. Very much so.”
And many more times after that, you think. But you’d keep that to yourself for now.
“Wow.” The blush on his face deepens. Laios stares at you for a few moments, before smiling.
“Then I’d be honored to have you as well.”
So here you are. After a few days of planning (mainly to ensure Laios’s comfort and preparation), you’re laid across his bed with him at your side.
The both of you took care to really set the mood. Falin’s not home, for one (thankfully she planned on spending this evening with Marcille), and Laios’s room looks a lot more inviting with the couple of candles lit up. It’s romantic yet comfortable. The perfect scenario for what’s bound to ensue.
You gently stroke the fabric of Laios’s nightshirt as you lay beside him. The two of you have been in this scenario multiple times before—often before an intense cuddle session or the occasional make out. This time the feeling was…new, even to you. The atmosphere is tense.
“You okay?”
Laios looks at you. His pale skin is tinged in a rose hue, despite you two not even getting started yet.
“I’m nervous.” He admits. “I mean, I’ve never done this before.”
“I know that. You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t have any expectations, so, you don’t need to worry. I just want to spend time with you.” You press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want—“
“I want to!” Laios interjects. He looks almost startled as you by his own enthusiasm, then coughs awkwardly. “I want to be with you. In this way. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually.”
Now that piques your interest. He’s been thinking about you? You can work with this.
“You’ve thought about me?” Your fingers start to trail down his shirt, from his chest to his midriff. “What kind of thoughts, Laios?”
The man tenses, but quickly shakes it off. You notice his breathing pick up.
“Thoughts…of us. What this would be like…” Laios shifts a bit, his eyes follow your fingers as they dive under his shirt.
“Mhm…” You urge him to continue. “Mind if I take this off?”
Laios shakes his head. His night shirt comes off as easy as ever. You’ve seen him shirtless quite a few times, but the sight never gets old. You take a few moments to admire the pleasant softness of his upper body, before looking to him again.
“Go on.”
You work on unbuttoning your top as he speaks.
“I was wondering…” Laios’s train of thought seems to stall as you remove your shirt. His wide, golden eyes drink you in before he snaps himself back to reality. “How you’d feel. The noises you’d make,, I still can’t believe you want to do this with me.”
You roll your eyes internally. If only he could see himself through your eyes. He’d know if anything, he’s doing you an utmost favor by letting you deflower him.
“I can’t imagine who I’d rather be doing this with right now than you.” You lean to chastely kiss his cheek, before moving down his jaw. “You’re absurdly handsome.” Simply kissing his warm skin makes your stomach tie in knots. Gods, you want him inside you.
Laios’s breath hitches. A breathy moan parts the silence before he speaks again.
“You really think so?”
“I know so.”
Soft lips trail down his chest, then linger over the space near his heart. When you press your ear to his skin, you can hear the rhythmic thumps pounding against his ribcage. It makes you smile.
“You don’t have to be nervous, Lai. We can stop at any time. I won’t be mad.” You punctuate your sentence with a kiss to his heart.
Laios smiles, comforted by the gesture.
“I know. I want—well, I’ve wanted. To do this, though. For a while.”
He sits up a little to better see your face. You return his smile, then get back to work.
Laios gently starts to stroke your hair as you kiss down his body. His soft moans and whimpers fill the air. Under your lips, you can feel the skin on his stomach twitch and tense in between kisses.
You let one of your hands trail up his thigh. It doesn’t move towards his crotch just yet, instead, you settle to massage the flesh from over the soft linen of his night pants. You move towards his inner thigh teasingly slow.
The goal here is to rile him up as much as possible. Unlike other men, Laios isn’t just hard and raring to go from his thoughts alone. His own shyness and insecurities still hold him back. But, with his mind clouded with lust, Laios would be likely to let more of his inhibitions go.
After a little more teasing, you finally decide to dip your fingers under his waistband. His breath hitches when your knuckles accidentally bump his groin—even the tiniest moments have Laios reeling. You pause your movements to look up at him, doing your best to hide the smugness you feel.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbles, then brushes some hair out of your face. He’s smiling and his lips part, but nothing comes out. He purses them instead as if he’s debating something.
You raise a brow, which prompts him to keep talking.
“C-can we kiss? While you do this?”
He asks this almost sheepishly, and it’s enough to make you blush as well. Why the hell does he get to be so cute?
You nod, obliging his request by moving up the bed and leaning forward to press your lips to his. You can feel his lips curl into the gesture. He’s smiling. You swear he’s the most adorable thing in this world.
The lip lock starts out sweet. The two of you take your time to set the pace, pressing loving kisses to each other, before it grows more heated as your hand gently palms his bulge through his underwear. Each movement earns a gasp or groan from the man before you. It’s not long before you feel him start to harden beneath your grasp.
You pull away for just a moment to look into his eyes. Laios’s face is much more relaxed now. He seems to be more focused on the moment.
“May I?”
Your fingers dip below the fabric of his underwear, but don’t dare go further without affirmation.
Laios nods.
“Yes, please.”
He helps you shuffle off his night pants. In respect of fairness, you place his hands on your hips so he can aid you in removing yours as well. Laios bites his lip a bit, his cheeks now fully blooming with a rosy hue. The sight of your bare ass and thighs obviously has him excited.
Next is his underwear. You’re seated in between his thighs as you remove them. It doesn’t come off as eagerly as his pants, but when you press a kiss to his hip he’s more than happy to oblige.
His semi-erect cock is quite a sight to behold,\ It’s not abnormally huge or anything, but the fact that you’re finally seeing what you’ve imagined to be pounding into you for the last few months. The fact that is a part of Laios that no one else has seen—or gets to see— but you? You can barely stop yourself from drooling. You want this thing in your hands. Mouth. Ass. Gods, everywhere it can fit. He could split you in two and you’d thank him.
You spit into your palm, then grasp it. He’s warm and weighty in your hand. You can already imagine how it’d feel cradled by your walls. Your hand slides down the length a few times—earning a choked moan from Laios. It’s pulsing with life and solid now in your grasp. His foreskin moves with each stroke of your hand as precum starts to pearl at the tip, aiding in lubrication.
“Feels better when someone else does it, yeah?” You ask with a smile.
Laios merely nods, nipping his bottom lip.
“Y-yeah.”
Another stroke has him lying his head back in the pillow, groaning. His large hands fist the sheets. You take one and lie it against the back of your head, and almost instinctively, he grips your hair. However, it’s with the same power one may use to hold a sheet of glass. Eh, you think as he settles into this, Laios will eventually get it and get more firm.
You can’t help but give him an experimental lick. Laios makes an odd whimpering noise—but it’s clear it’s in pleasure—so you continue to taste him. It doesn’t have much of a flavor. It’s mostly just like licking his skin, it’s clear he washed pretty thoroughly before. His precum starts to add a bit of a salty tinge as you continue. You make sure to lick down to his balls as well. He’s got a pretty thick covering of blonde pubic hair–but the sounds he makes and the way he curls his toes makes you less than apprehensive to keep working your mouth.
Laios’s lewd sounds fill the air as you continue. His fingers gently brush your scalp for a few strokes, before finding their way to grip you tighter. When you give him a light moan, the reverberations shoot down his cock, and he fists your hair with more passion.
You start to grind yourself against the mattress, but when that’s not enough, you seat yourself as well as you can on his knee and find some decent friction there. Pleasant waves of arousal course through you, down to your crotch as you start to get yourself off a little. This feeling, along with the feeling of Laios down your throat, starts to put you in a bit of a trance.
A desperate noise cuts through the silence. Laios gives a half-hearted tug and grits his teeth.
“S-stop.” He chokes out, causing you to still. You remove your mouth from his length, before giving him an absentminded stroke. “Please. I don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”
You fully remove yourself from him and Laios lets out an audible sigh of relief. You laugh lightly as he begins to regain his composure. That azalea hued blush advances down to his chest now. For someone who’s faced beasts twice his size and kept going, Laios already looks utterly finished beneath you now.
“Why don’t we take a little break, yeah?”
You move up the bed and kiss him on the nose. You know you want him inside you now. But as wet as you are from just grinding against him, you know you need to be stretched open a bit beforehand if you want to take him comfortably.
“Sounds good.” Laios kisses your forehead in return, gently humming. His shaky breaths are starting to return to a normal rhythm.
Now it’s your turn. You lie with your back down on the bed, then look over to Laios.
“Wanna return the favor while you recuperate?” You ask, looking at him unexpectedly. You don’t want to intimidate him or make him feel like he has to do anything at this point. However, Laios’s eyes light up. He eagerly shuffles to be between your legs, before moving to assist you with getting comfortable propped against the pillow on his headboard.
He looks mesmerized by the sight of you through your underwear. The slick on them doesn’t give much to the imagination of what’s underneath. He can barely see the head of your clit poking through as you spread open for him. The sight and smell triggers his overeager brain to lean forward and take a good, long lick.
You jolt a bit, but moan. Laios snaps back, then looks wide eyed at you.
“Sorry! I should’ve asked first.”
He looks sheepish, but not entirely remorseful. You’d roll your eyes, but you’re actually kinda excited. Okay, it seems his nerves are dissipating now. This is good.
“It’s okay.” You move your hand to stroke his hair affectionately. “Do what you want. You can take off my underwear, too.”
Laios’s hands are shaky, but it's clear that’s from excitement. He licks you through your underwear a couple times as an experiment, making you tense, before finally removing them. The sight of you in front of him, finally exposed, makes his jaw drop–almost comically slow. He stares at you long enough to spark confusion (maybe even some nerves yourself), before he finally speaks up.
“What…exactly do I do?”
You snort. You almost forgot he’s entirely clueless.
“Here,” You spread your lips open for him to see. “It’s not super difficult. Anywhere you lick is gonna feel good. But you should concentrate more on these spots.” One finger points to the sensitive mound at the apex of your folds. “This is the clit. It’s the most important. It…kinda feels similar to me how it did when I was sucking on you. But…don’t get too crazy. The clit’s more sensitive, so you wanna be gentle.”
“Hmmmm…” Laios nods, following along with interest. His large finger reaches out and starts to stroke it lightly. You moan in response.
“That’s good. You’re getting it. But add a bit more pressure. That feels better.”
He obliges, and you close your eyes with a smile. The added texture of his fingerpad is what adds more pleasure. That feels good. Laios notices your reaction, then continues. As he continues to play with the nub, he pulls back the head. This seems to enlighten him.
“It has a hood!?” He asks excitedly. “Is it more sensitive underneath?”
“Super sensitive.” You agree. “Again, be careful, don’t just–”
He’s not listening. He gives a gentle lick, then a suck, which has you shuddering. You moan out his name in your own choked voice. Your hands grip his hair. It takes willpower not to shove his face into you just yet. “Gods, Laios. You’re eager.” He chuckles, then licks at you again. You grind against his face in return, which makes him moan.
“You’re getting…slicker. More moist.” He remarks, then licks up some of your wetness. “It tastes weird. But good. It’s like I don’t wanna stop. Must be pheromones or it’s similar to how–…”
“Usually people say wet, Laios. Moist is not super sexy.” You chuckle. It’s important to cut him off now. His language along with incoming tangent would probably unintentionally kill the mood. “But it’s because I’m getting more turned on. You’re making me feel turned on.”
Laios shuffles a bit. You can tell he’s getting harder.
“I like that. I like making you feel this way.” He seems to be more confident now.
“Good, you can make me feel even better with your hands, too.”
He’s curious again. You open yourself once more, then point to the lowermost hole.
“That’s the vagina. The main entrance.” He nods, and you continue. “Before we go further, you’re gonna have to stretch me out. It’ll make everything else feel better and more comfortable for me.”
He looks up at you with a bit of a frown.
“I know what that is.” He pouts. “I’m not entirely clueless.”
Oh.
You chuckle a bit, patting his head affectionately.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure. You’re a lot smarter than most guys.”
That seems to cheer him up, so you continue. You instruct him to slide one of his digits inside you. He does so, slowly and carefully as you command. His hands are unreasonably large. One digit is actually able to make you feel something as he slides it in and out of you. There’s almost no resistance as he does so, your slick coats his fingers and seeps onto his palm as you ask him to add another. You feel yourself stretch to accommodate them and moan in pleasure. Each movement he makes is extremely purposeful. It’s not just as if he’s trying to finger you, but also get an idea of just how you feel on the inside. The pads of Laios’s fingers gently poke and prod as they continue their movements. He’s enthralled by the texture and feeling of merely his fingers inside you.
“N-now…make like, a scissoring motion.” You ask, starting to feel that typical build up at the core of your groin. Laios gasps as he starts to stretch you out, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“The human body is amazing…” He speaks as if he’s entranced. “I wonder if I–”
His tongue moves to lick up your slit. You let out a wanton groan, then clutch his scalp. Laios takes this as a good sign and moves to lick at your clit like before. The stimulation along with him still fingering you has your breath stifling. You start to fuck yourself on his fingers and grind into his face.
“Just like that, Laios. Good boy…” You praise, not really thinking about what you’re saying. He whimpers into you, making you groan again. The little vibrations when he does that feel amazing. He continues to moan and whimper as he suckles at your clit. You can hear a swishing sound, something against the fabric of the linen sheets, and when you put two and two together you realize he’s humping the bed under him.
Okay, as good as this feels, you need to put a stop to this. He’s gonna get carpet burn on his dick. And you’re gonna cum on his face and get too brainless to direct this virgin when he’s pounding into you.
You pull him back by his hair, which Laios doesn’t fight against. His fingers still inside you. There’s a small trail of clear spit and slick that keeps his mouth connected to you.
“Pull your fingers out. I wanna ride you now.”
He’s no longer hesitating. The way Laios scrambles off you and eagerly lies on his back is comical. You’re not exactly composed yourself, though. You’re just as ready to hop on and ride him until his brain goes numb.
Laios leans his back against the headboard with you seated in his lap. Your hips almost move on their own, sliding your entrance over his cock before grinding your clit against it. Just this has the two of you orchestrating a symphony of moans. The combination of slick, precum, and spit that forms between your legs and drools down your groins adds a barely audible wet sound in addition. When the cusp of your entrance catches on the head of his cock, you shudder.
You can’t wait anymore. And you’re sure Laios can’t either. You position his head at your entrance and give him a kiss.
“Are you ready?” You ask, pressing another kiss to his forehead. You want him to be sure. Not that you’d think he’d back out at this point, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.
“More than ever.” He responds breathlessly, then kisses you sweetly. You can taste yourself on his lips. “Do it, please. I want you.”
You’re sure to align him correctly, then sink down on his tip. Laios makes what might be the weirdest, yet hottest groan from deep in his throat, while his fingertips dig into your sides.
“Relax…” You whisper, ghosting kisses over his cheeks. You’re not fully composed either, but Laios is going to burst if you’re not careful. “It’s okay.”
He lets his face fall, but his shaky breathing continues as you fuck yourself on his tip, steadily opening yourself up to him. This is better than you thought. Much fucking better. Especially with Laios’s gasps and desperate whines in your ear. The heat that radiates from his body, causing the two of you to work up a light sweat. The way his muscles tense and jolt underneath your body. It’s driving you absolutely wild.
“Laios.” You moan, letting your head fall to the crook of his neck. You know this pleasure is brainbreaking for him, but it’s making you weak in the knees as well. The insides of your thighs burn with pleasure as you continue to take more of him into you. “You feel so fucking good inside me. You fit so well.”
One of his arms raises. His hand cradles your head, but his fingers grip your hair tightly.
“You’re so warm.” The last word falls out of his mouth like a boulder. He’s struggling to speak as if his mouth is filled with rocks. “So, s-so good…” He’s speaking through grit teeth, swallowing harshly like his throat’s suddenly coated with cotton. When you bottom out, resting your ass on his balls, he cries out your name. He almost comes unfurled beneath you at that moment.
The act’s finally done. Laios Touden–No longer a virgin. He’s been deflowered by you.
You bask in the moment. Despite your mind being clouded by pleasure, you take just a second to appreciate him. That ever growing flowery hue lights up his whole being now. Laios face, neck, chest…even parts of his arms and thighs are practically growing red. The rest of his pale skin is tinted with a hibiscus-pink color. Laios’s head is lolled back. His open mouth has a small trail of drool running from it. You lick it up happily, then meet him for a kiss.
“Look at me.”
Your command gently wakes him from his trance. Laios’s golden eyes peer at you lazily.
“You’re not a virgin anymore.” You chuckle, then kiss that broad nose bridge of his. He smiles and leans his forehead against yours.
“Thank you…” He breathes out. His eyes shine with adoration now.
“I should be thanking you. It’s not every day one gets to take the virginity of someone as pretty as you.”
Your compliment makes his breath stifle. You give him another loving kiss, which he eagerly returns.
You start to move now, which Laios responds to with a whimper. He tries to roll his head back again, but you wrap an arm around his shoulder and use your hand to direct his gaze where you two connect.
“Look at us.” You say between gasps. “The way we fit together. You were made for me.”
His brow furrows, but his eyes widen in awe. Laios’s hands remain perched on your hips as you ride him. He moves awkwardly to match you, but his thighs and legs betray him when jolts of gratification surge through him. He tries to cough out a response–something, anything–but can only manage a drawn, pitchy whimper. You let your eyes fall closed and set your forehead against his again.
For now, you let yourself enjoy the moment. You and Laios exchange breaths, gasps, and groans as you guide yourself up and down his length, then bottom out once more to grind your clit against his pubes and groin. Laios creates his own cacophony of odd noises that you can assume are due to pleasure, and they send swirls of delight through your brain and down your spine.
Each movement you make makes you crave more. More of him. The way he smells, sounds, feels–its all encompassing. It makes you want to consume all of him, drain him the way he’s drained your thoughts these past months. You could never imagine it’d feel this way. Laios isn’t gifted at sex by any means, but the emotional connection between you two is what heightens the physical aspect. Knowing you’re his first, how much he trusts you, desires you–it makes your mind cloudy. He belongs to you. You have him in the most intimate way possible now. An unforgettable moment for the both of you.
You clench around him and grit your teeth. It’s almost as if you’re telling him this now–he’s yours. The noise he makes when you do that is unnatural. It’s guttural–almost primal.
“I’m gonna cum!” He chokes out, his body shaking with tension. You immediately stop your movements and relax. Not like this. Not yet, if you can help it.
“Hey, hey, settle.” You coo in his ear, now kissing whatever skin you can reach. “You don’t wanna cum just yet, right? I was hoping to give you the reins.”
Laios’s breathing is rapid, as if he just ran a mile. You coax him out of his stupor, trying to aid him in learning to contain himself. For someone with little experience, he does have a lot of willpower. With a little more time to gain his brain back, he’s able to get halfway cognizant and look at you once more.
Your hips slide up, ever so slowly, and you let him fall out of you with a wet pop. That would’ve been embarrassing if the two of you weren’t so incredibly turned on. You hop off him now, then beckon him to climb on top of you. When he does, you anchor your thighs on his hips.
“I figured you’d wanna try your hand at this. Hold yourself up and I’ll give you a hand.” You prop yourself up a bit to look between your legs. Laios grabs his cock, and you help him guide it towards your entrance. “It’s probably gonna slip out if you’re not careful, so keep close to me.”
He nods and slides in without issue. You hum in delight at the feeling of being full again. You let Laios thrust his hips into yours a few times and his hefty balls smack lewdly against your ass as he does. He’s focused, biting his tongue a little as he tries to see which angle and speed gets a proper reaction from you. He’s cute. And the fact he’s thinking of your pleasure on an evening that’s supposed to be about him is endearing as well.
You beckon him forward, then lock your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, the typical missionary position. Laios keeps most of his weight on his forearms as he casually pumps into you.
“You’re doing a good job.” You gently play with his hair and look lovingly at him. Laios always fills you with the warmest, fuzziest feeling when you look into his eyes. It spills out like water when you have him like this. “You’re perfect. Everything I could want in a man.”
Laios’s brows furrow. You can’t tell if it's in concentration or what. You kiss his forehead softly as his eyes flutter closed.
“You’re everything to me.” He says in a firm voice. His pace begins to pick up, his pelvis starting to dig into yours. “You. I–, I just…can’t believe you’re here with me. You’re so beautiful...”
He’s really picking up the pace now. It makes your grip tighten on his hair. Laios is losing himself in you, and you let him. His length barely leaves you before thrusting right into you again. Sweet words and strangled noises pool in his throat and tumble out with fervor.
“I love you.” He whines. It’s said with enough devotion to make your heart ache. “I love you…Love you…” He gasps. You feel his cock twitch inside you. He starts to drive into you like a madman now. He has little tact, but you don’t mind. It feels good nonetheless to watch him fall apart before you like this. Feel him lose his composure just from the workings of your body. Your own peak starts to approach on the horizon.
“I wanna stay with you forever. Wanna be yours.” His balls create a slightly steady beat as they slap against your bottom. The wet, squelching sound of your hole being pounded fills your ears along with Laios’s moans.
“I love you too.” You respond, letting your fingers comb through his sweaty bangs, moving them from his face. Words come easier since you’re still more composed than he is. It’s clear Laios is exceptionally vulnerable at this moment, so you tell him things he probably needs to hear. “You’re so easy to love, Laios. Just by being you.”
That seems to do something to him. His head falls in the crook of your neck and his arms slide under your shoulders to pull you as close as possible. His entire weight now leaning on you knocks the wind out of you a bit, but you’re able to recover quickly. All you hear is jagged breaths and strangled cries as he pumps into you wildly. A wet warmth starts to gather on your skin. You think its drool.
A few more desperate thrusts of his hips has him coming undone completely. It’s everything but graceful as Laios reaches his peak. It’s obvious his orgasm tears through him like he’s paper. Not only does he almost completely fill you, but his sounds are grossly guttural, and the way his body tenses like stone and curls into yours before he slumps against you is testament to that.
You roll with it, though, and simply pet his hair, whispering sweet nothings to him as you do so. He shudders against you, hiccuping softly against your skin. As you bask in the moment, you feel your combined slick start to squeeze out of you a bit. It’s still warm, but it makes you shiver. You stayed hugged against Laios for a while before he finally starts to remove himself from you.
You’re shocked when you catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are puffy, nose runny. There’s tear stains down his cheeks. He wasn’t drooling. He was crying.
“Hey.” You hold his jaw in your hands, frowning a bit. “You okay? What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t dare look you in the eyes. His nerves eat away as him as he sniffles. It’s a little bit of a pathetic sight.
“I-I don’t know. I just…you said all those nice things to me, and I just–” His tears start coming again, and you shoosh him. There’s a lot of hormones floating around. You’re sure that’s making him emotional, granted, on top of all his insecurities surrounding his own self-worth.
“I meant what I said. I love you, sincerely.”
Laios’s breathing starts to even out a bit, but tears still fall. He brings your palm to his mouth, gently kissing it.
“I know. But that’s what makes me feel this way even more. I just…can’t believe you’re with me at times. You’re so wonderful.” He looks at you with such adoration. It’s sickeningly sweet.
“You are too. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you could at least begin to understand how I feel about you.” You continue to wipe his tears with your free hand. Laios shakes his head, almost in disbelief.
“I’ll never understand what makes you want to put up with me. But I'm over the moon that you choose to do so.”
“And I always will. Loving you is effortless. Stop referring to it like it’s a job. ” You casually flick his forehead to lighten the mood. Laios snaps out of his own head and returns to the moment with a soft “ow”, before beginning to laugh.
A laugh escapes you now. You sweetly kiss him on the nose.
“Now, stop crying, dummy.” You tease. “You’re gonna make me cry too,”
Laios chuckles as you wipe his tears. He grasps your wrist, then brings your hand closer for him to kiss.
“I’m the smartest man in the world if I’ve already decided I want to spend my life with you.”
So what he said earlier. He meant that. Laios sees a future with you…You start to feel a little overwhelmed by emotion now, but settle on squishing his face in your hands and pushing him away.
“Dork.” You chuckle. Laios’s laughter fills the room now. There’s so much mirth in the room, before he starts to look contemplative again.
“Wait…did you?” He raises a brow. “I couldn’t tell if you finished.”
Oh. Here comes the awkward truth. You weren’t expecting to get off and you had a lot of fun, but you’re not sure if that’s enough for him.
“I…no.” You answer honestly, but are quick to reassure. “It’s okay, though. Don’t feel pressured. You went through a lot right now, and I still had fun. I’m happy.”
He’s not.
“But I wanted you to…” He pouts. “You deserve it after what you did for me.”
You’re about to reassure him that hey, it’s fine. You could cuddle and just chill out, but you catch his curious gaze trail down to the shiny wetness of your crotch. If he’s willing…
“I mean, if you want…” You look up at him. “Only if you feel like it. I can show you how to get me off again. But in a different way this time.”
His brows raise, eyes shining with interest. He nods, now sitting up on his knees as if awaiting instruction.
You tell him to lie on his back and tell him about your plans. Facesitting is an entirely new thing to him, but he’s totally on board with the idea. He’s practically drooling as you describe it to him. The tension and eagerness builds up with a quickness. You hurry up and get your shins seated on either side of his head, ready to get this show on the road.
“This still alright with you?”
You look down at Laios. He’s staring at your wet, cum soaked pussy like it’s a gourmet meal.
“Fuck yes.”
That’s the first time he’s cursed all night. He must have a thing for oral. You’ll be sure to keep that in mind.
You lower yourself onto him, careful not to put all your weight on him just yet. Laios laps at you excitedly. He’s never been the most refined eater in the first place, and the way he sucks and licks at you is as if all manners flew out the window. Your thighs shiver as you let more weight onto his face. Holy shit. He seems to be a quick learner. That, or his enthusiasm to please shines through when it comes to oral. He’s so voracious it makes your head spin.
You cry out expletives and start to rock against his face. Laios’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling your hips down onto him. You lean as much weight as he can take. It doesn’t seem like you phase it at all.
With your slit flush against him, you can feel everything. His tongue dragging across your sensitive skin, diving into your hole as he lets you fuck yourself on it. Warmth builds in your core, making your jaw clench. You alternate between grinding your clit on his nose and letting him suckle at it. It’s phenomenal.
“I’m gonna…” You’re cut off by a moan. Your thighs tighten around his head. “Laios!”
He heeds your warning, now focusing on letting you ride his tongue. You grind your clit against his nose as you finally come undone, that warm familiar feeling spreading from your groin down to your thighs. Your legs clench around his head. The moan that you elicit from his lips while you do that has you shaking.
When you’re ready, you climb off his face, flopping on the bed beside Laios. The two of you are spent. At least for right now. Laios pulls you into his arms, letting your head rest gently on his chest. As you lie there, the sound of his heartbeat lulls you to drowsiness.
“That was the best moment of my life.” He speaks up. “I just…” Laios laughs at his loss for words. He’s never been good with them, but even finding one to describe how he feels right now seems like an impossible task. “I love you. I love you so much.”
“Love you too.” You murmur against his skin. This was a lot, physically and emotionally. But you’re glad you did it.
“I feel like I could lie here forever.” His voice starts to taper off, as if he;s feeling wistful.
“Mmmmm…” You mumble in agreement. Falling asleep with your face flush against Laios’s boob sounds ideal, before you’re reminded of the cool wetness between your thighs. It was sexy at first, but now it’s starting to grow uncomfortable. “I–We, gotta clean up, though. I feel gross.”
“I kinda like it.” Laios admits. “Being covered in you…us. It’s nice to see our fluids together.” His fingers brush between his own legs, gathering some slick between his fingers. “It’s kinda like slime. Man, I wish I could have those noodles again.”
You furrow your brows in disgust at first, but Laios’s words make you snicker. Of course, he somehow relates this to monsters. Then, to food.
“Well, the faster we get cleaned up, the quicker we can eat.” You begrudgingly stand on shaky legs. Laios is quick to steady you, before standing up himself.
“You’re right. I’ll pay. I owe you one after all this.” He kisses the top of your head. Laios starts to walk away towards the bathroom, but not before you land a decent smack on his ass. The man yelps, before staring at you wide eyed. The handprint that lingers due to how pale his skin is is comical.
“C’mon. You owe me a shower.” You kiss the underside of his jaw, then walk ahead of him.
Laios rolls his eyes and smiles, happily following after you.
#laios touden#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi x reader#laios x reader#laios touden x reader#reader insert#dungeon food#delicious in dungeon
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
⸻ °♡⃘ . WIND BREAKER BOYS AS ROMANCE TROPES (PART TWO)
pairings. togame jo, kaji ren, hiragi toma, suo hayato, sugishita kyotaro x gn. reader
part one
TOGAME JO + second chance at love
Oh boy, this is a messy one. Past traumas and experiences had scarred Togame's soul, his heart guarded by walls built from old wounds. And when you initially entered his life and captured his heart, he was hesitant, afraid of repeating the pain he had once endured. He was a coward of a man, and he knew it, but that only made it easier for him to break it off that day—from you completely. Yet, your patience and kindness slowly began to chip away at his defences.
You and Togame had a secret relationship as middle school sweethearts before breaking it off. At the time, it was mutual, one with no hard feelings. But it was a hard pill to swallow when Togame realized; you were unhappy with this relationship. You were unhappy with him. Back then, Togame didn't understand how you truly felt—that this relationship would never last—especially since his obsession with fights clouded his vision, pushing you away from him. He was devastated, but when he saw you again, with that same angelic smile that he cherished in his memory, it was all over. Just like the first day he met you, it was the same feeling all over again, and then going to rekindle your relationship years down the road.
“Jo… is that you?”
The second he heard that familiar voice, he turned around to see you standing there. You were there. Right there. Before his very eyes. Your eyes met, and it was like no time had passed at all, the memories flooding back in an instant.
You had changed, and beautifully so, inside and out. You have grown more attractive with age, but as a person, you were just as genuine and kind as when he last saw you.
Togame couldn’t help but smile—a genuine, heartfelt smile that he hadn’t worn in years. He approached you slowly, almost cautiously, as if afraid that you might vanish if he moved too quickly. But you were real, standing there with that same beautiful smile that had haunted his dreams.
“Hi, uh. It's, it’s been a while.”
“It has,” you replied, nodding your head and walking just a bit closer. “How have you been?”
“I’ve missed you,” he blurted, making your eyes slightly widen.
Seeing you again stirred an awful feeling in his chest—something in Togame that he thought he had lost forever when he saw you leave that day. The time apart had been long and lonely, but when he stood directly face to face with you, he realized that his feelings for you had never truly faded away.
He wanted to make things right, to show you that he understood now, that he could be the person you needed. And with you, he found the courage to love again, to open his heart to the possibility of happiness—and having all that with you—the person he almost lost if it weren’t for your kindness. And for that, he would pay it back tenfold. He wouldn’t let you slip away again. To make up for the lost time. Perhaps a reminder that it’s never too late to heal and find joy in life. And just like the first time, he was smitten. Togame fell in love with you a second time, and this time, he’s not letting you go so easily.
KAJI REN + enemies to lovers
Do I even need to explain this one? With how Kaji is, his stoic, brooding character, it's no wonder how he initially got into this situation with you. Particularly, slow-burn enemies to lovers. It’s a cliche, yes, but a timeless one. The typical trope of going from enemies that despise one another to slowly falling in love.
You both were each other's rival and, essentially, each other's challenge, constantly fueling the need to one-up each other, giving brooding looks from across the room. Kaji, though initially quiet to the casual passerby, can also be a loud, boisterous prick when the headphones come off and his competitive streak switches on like a light. You and Kaji could never be in the same room without arguing, making even the likes of Kusumi sweatdrop, inwardly debating if he should step in or let this so-called “shouting conversation” continue to happen organically. He chose the latter.
Unlike the tension and physical attraction out of a love-at-first-sight romance, or a mutual appreciation and friendship between "friends to lovers,” you and Kaji only come to fall in love after accepting each other's differences, flaws, and frustrations. Seeing past the rivalry, acknowledging each other's faults, and realizing they have a good side. And you two were no different from this. Amidst the clash of fiery tempers, a softer side began to bloom. Plenty a time, Kaji would mutter the same statement, “I hate you,” insisting directly to your face with utter snide that he does not like you around him, but in reality, Kaji actually just hates the fact he cares about you so much and can’t get himself to admit it.
From it all, the heated exchanges, each others withering glares, and sharp resorts, something unexpected began to grow. Well, Umemiya would beg to differ, being the first and only one who noticed it all along. After all, when Kaji was with you, everything just felt real. Natural. Organic. That he didn’t need to act when around you. Regardless, it didn’t stop the arguments that rolled in like storm clouds before a downpour.
All the tension in the world between you and Kaji, initially rooted in animosity, would slowly—and I mean slowly, transform into a different kind of intensity. Kaji has—in his eyes—only seen the bad and the ugly in you (supposably) yet can't seem to distance himself away from you. All the times you got under his skin—and the other way around—would be all he thought about. And only then did he realize that you were always on his mind.
When he’s really seen it all at this point and still can't let you go, Kaji can no longer deny it.
….
Huh?
…Were you hearing things? Kaji, the guy who never backed down from an argument, confessed to you? Was he being serious...?
“Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of alien.”
“W-WHA— Well then you stop saying weird stuff like that out of nowhere!!!”
Perhaps maybe, just maybe, love can emerge from the most unlikely of places.
HIRAGI TOMA + forbidden love
Toma Hiragi was a person whose entire life was entangled with gangs, and with that, secrets galore. He was a member of Bofurin, and one of Bofurin’s Four Heavenly Kings no less. So, needless to say, Hiragi held a reputation.
His day was always filled one way or another with the demands of the gang and his duties of being a high-ranking, respectable member of Furin, leaving him little time for personal matters. That, while thrilling in some ways, it also came with its own fair share of risks.
Being involved meant being in constant danger and having to keep an eye, not just for himself but for anyone he cared about.
Hiragi knew that revealing your relationship with him (being friends with a delinquent like him) would surely paint a target on your back, as many rival gangs harboured grudges against Furin. If they couldn’t get to Hiragi, they would surely come for you. And while your naive self didn't know, Hiragi liked you more than just a friend, and he wasn’t going to sacrifice your safety for his selfishness.
His love for you was a secret he held close to his heart—a trope of forbidden love—but it wasn't for the judgment of other people, but for him to keep far away from you. Hiragi loves you, he always has, even if it meant keeping you at arm’s length. Yet, the more you tried to resist, the stronger your feelings grew.
Toma Hiragi was the embodiment of everything you—the everyday person—were supposed to avoid. But despite the risk, Hiragi couldn't help but sneak in phone calls and hang out with you during rare moments of free time—to him, it was a sanctuary to get away from the chaos of his life and to spend time with you and you only. It was during times like these that calmed him, refreshed him. He could feel at peace, resting his head on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his thick, dirty-blonde hair.
Hiragi constantly struggled with the guilt of potentially putting you in danger, and his fears were only amplified when, that night, he received that call. You were nearly attacked by a rival gang that night, and Hiragi’s heart nearly stopped. The second the news reached his ear, Hiragi rushed to your side, wrapping you in a tight hug, his body trembling.
“T-Toma—?”
“Oh god, you scared the shit out of me…” he whispered, his voice cracking. Fuck it. Fuck it all. He couldn’t let this charade go on.
“I can’t lose you.”
Hiragi’s life as a gangster made him believe that it was nearly impossible to maintain a relationship. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to let you go. It might’ve been “forbidden,” but in his heart, you were the only one who mattered. It only made it all the more intoxicating. A love that was worth every risk.
SUO HAYATO + secret admirer
He is a mysterious, enigmatic fellow. That fact is for sure. Many would assume Suo would never engage in romance or pursue a romantic partner, but they are sorely mistaken. After all, not everything directly revealed to the human eye is always the truth. But then again, no one could ever really tell what kind of twisted nonsense went on in Suo’s brain, or even that patched eye of his.
From the beginning, when Suo saw you in that cafe, drinking tea by yourself, looking out at the window, he, for better or for worse, was intrigued. Even if he wanted to focus on the task at hand, his eyes would be directed back at you. Daily after day, you would be there, and so would be. It was his favourite cafe spot (that he kept hidden from the rest at Furin, of course). Suo keeps tabs on you and watches over everyone with a careful eye, whether that be your daily routines, favourite hangout spots, or even your subtle expressions. He is always present, even when you least expect it.
For days, sometimes weeks, Suo silently observes. It takes him a while, but when Suo finally decides to approach and talk to you, he does so with a natural ease that blatantly disguises the countless hours he spent planning his every move, making that you were comfortable around him—unlike the havoc that is his chaotic so-called friends in Furin.
To you, Suo might just be a mere charismatic stranger who randomly stumbled into your life, but in reality, it's so much more than what anyone could've thought in even the most dramatic of television dramas. Suo has been around for far longer than you ever expected, protecting you from the shadows. He knows that you deserve to feel safe, and he’s willing to ensure that, no matter the cost. He’s your protector, your secret admirer, always there, always watching, and always caring, even if you don’t realize it (because you don't). Suo may be extremely charming and even perhaps a bit too direct to the eyes of many, but those who know him best are few and far between.
Most will never know what is truly underneath his calm facade, but loyalty to that degree is rare, and it is surprising for him to be so interested in a fellow individual who is merely living their plain everyday life. But after all, he is still human. The thought of revealing his true feelings scares him. Perhaps, one day, just maybe, Suo may confess his underlying feelings for you.
Either that or you catch onto his stares yourself. It’s not like Suo particularly tries to hide it.
If you find out, then it only makes it easier for him to tease you about it.
SUGISHITA KYOTARO + grumpy x sunshine
An utter stone of a boy who wears a baseline expression of irritation, but as luck would have it, to the surprise of nearly everyone, he would go onto fall in love with sunshine personified, someone with no cares in the world, you.
And beneath it all, revealed a shy, hopeless romantic who is finally feels able to reckon with the truth. But also being a person who would rather slam face-first onto concrete than admit his true feelings, and this, without a doubt, made things complicated. Quite literally. Sugisthia doesn't say a damn word. He was the epitome of grumpiness, as Hiragi would often tease, with a perpetual scowl that could scare off anyone who dared to get too close. Where he saw dark and stormy clouds, you found silver linings and a rainy day to behold. Where he grumbled, you laughed and pulled him along.
Normally, Sugishita doesn’t like to utter a word, as communicating with him is practically akin to talking to a brick wall, but with you, it just felt so natural. Or rather, to the surprise of everyone, you understood every nonverbal communication and body language cue he gave. At first, he found your cheerfulness infuriating—the way you would light up a room with your presence, but over time, he couldn’t help but become used to and even enjoy having your presence around. Your dynamic was a perfect balance—his quiet strength complemented by your positive and warm spirit.
From the eyes of many who would catch you two together, they didn't believe it was real. Him? Sugishita Kyotaro? The guy who was practically head over heels for Umeymia for years on end, falling in love with someone else? Being intimate with another person other than Umemiya? Was this some sort of dream? No. While shocking, it was also endearing in a way. Sugishita was, admittedly, very attached to Umemiya. Even so, one thing was undeniable, you brought out a side of Sugishita that no one had ever seen before—a side that smiled, laughed, and even showed a bit of vulnerability. He is a grumpy, reserved person, but under that snide, he was a warm, caring person. Umemiya would almost certainly tell you that when your relationship first began. And in that regard, he couldn't have been more correct.
And to those who knew him well, it was clear. Sugishita Kyotaro was hopelessly in love, even if he was too stubborn to say it out loud.
Sugishita wouldn’t ever admit it, but even he is well aware of the light you add to not only his life but the impact you’ve had on others as well. He wouldn't have it any other way, even if it doesn't always seem like he’s acknowledged the effect you've had on him.
©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡
#wind breaker#windbreaker#wind breaker x reader#windbreaker x reader#wind breaker x gn reader#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader#wind breaker x y/n#wind breaker fluff#wind breaker angst#wind breaker drabbles#kaji ren#hiragi toma#togame jo#suo hayato#sugishita kyotaro#kaji ren x reader#hiragi toma x reader#togame jo x reader#suo hayato x reader#sugishita kyotaro x reader
478 notes
·
View notes
Text
the “first” time
drew starkey x younger!reader, smut, haven’t wrote ina minute yall sorry 😣. i also recommend listening to the song while reading.
you were cuddled up into the side of drew while he had his arm around you, keeping you close to him as you watched the third horror movie tonight.
but little did he know, you were practically soaked down there.
it took a lot of self restraint in you not to squirm around, but you were almost about to start.
the view of him with his blank tank top, grey sweats, a little stubble, a buzzed head and that damn gold chain had you pressing your thighs together for dear life.
it was such a random moment for you to be feeling like this too. he always looked good, that was for sure. him in general had that type of affect on you.
but right now had to have been your peak ovulation or something, because you needed him bad.
you started off with a simple and subtle movement by moving your hand from where it laid on his chest, and slowly down to the top of his abs.
no reaction.
after this, you had to come off a little more bold. you repositioned yourself, pushing your face more upwards into his neck so that plush of your butt would be more into his hand instead of the bottom of your spine.
and still, no reaction.
the only type of movement that came from him was him licking his lips. this did not help your case in the slightest.
it was just throbbing at this point. you wanted him to give it to you so bad, knowing he’d still be a little hesitant.
you and drew had been together for 8 months now, and there were still no real intercourse going on.
of course, drew didn’t mind using his fingers on you, and you didn’t mind using your mouth on him.
but you wanted, no, needed the real thing.
it’s not like you were a virgin either. you’ve had some experience before him.
and still with this knowledge, drew still was convinced you weren’t ready for him.
your core was ready for him at this point, “drew,” you finally spoke up.
“hm” he said in that low, raspy tone of his. *reason number 300 why you needed to be dicked down this instant*
in reality tho, you really did wish he would just take a hint. actually having to say what you wanted was just too… confrontational.
“i’m really like…” you didn’t make eye contact with his eyes. you were trying not to make yourself laugh at how embarrassing it was to actually tell him at the same time.
drew on the other hand was just waiting for you to finish your sentence, confused as ever.
“really what?”
you sighed. “i really, really, really, really need you. like really”
the words were finally out, but not direct. that was the most he was gonna get from you.
the realization hit him and he let out chuckle, “okay.” was all he said before he started kissing you.
but you knew what he was gonna do, and that wasn’t just all that you wanted.
you pulled away gently, “no like i actually need you. i don’t want just the fingers.”
he raised his eyebrows at this, the actual realization hitting him this time.
“a- are you sure baby?” he asked with genuine concern.
“i’m positive. i’ve been wanting it for so long.”
he’s rubbing your thigh with his hand. “i don’t know sweetheart… are you positive you want it?”
you almost started whining. “yess, drew. i’m so very serious.”
you could see that drew was very hesitant just thinking about it, but then also at the same time considering it.
“just so you know, don’t think that we have to do all of that to be together. i love you for you-”
as much as you loved your man right back, you were getting a little fed up. “yes i know babe but i really need to feel you right now.”
he smirked at your bold statement. for the first time in 8 whole months of the relationship, drew finally caved in.
“alright. don’t wanna hear it’s ‘too much’ either.”
you didn’t get the chance to respond because his lips were already on yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth and holding the back of your head.
this is what you’ve been waiting for so desperately. that rough side of his.
he’s laying you down completely on your back, focused on getting your pajama pants and panties off at once.
at the same time, you’re trying to get his shirt off. you were so ready to just take all of him.
you fumbled with his own sweats and boxers while he fumbled with your shirt, eventually resulting in the both of you being completely exposed to each other.
he runs his hands down your body, “shit.”
you felt him getting harder and harder on your leg. you could tell he was starting to feel that throbbing sensation himself when he guided your hand onto his cock and made you run him.
and while you were doing that, his hand moved to your own folds and started rubbing too. you couldn’t help the gasps that came out either.
his mouth moved down to your neck, leaving a bunch of hickies that would be pointless even attempting to cover the next day.
deciding to tease him a little, you started rubbing the tip of his cock, leaving him with his mouth slack and letting out breaths right by your ear.
“you ready for this dick, baby?” he says while moving his hard on from the palm of your hand, to rubbing at your entrance.
“mhm!” you moan out.
that’s all he needed. he clearly was just as needy all this time as you were. not too much foreplay and no multiple asks of confirmation. he just slid right in and bottomed out too.
his face scrunched in pleasure, “so tight baby. so fuckin tight.”
and he was so big. you weren’t unfamiliar with his girthy and lengthy cock, but the feeling of it actually inside you was foreign. you almost didn’t know if you could actually take it.
almost. you definitely were not stopping him from ruining your insides.
as the respectful king drew is, he waited for you to give him the “okay” to start moving. all you had to do was nod, and he started with a medium pace.
the moans that were already coming out of you were loud. it was so nice, especially on a night like this to be making love to drew.
he wasn’t silent either. you felt perfect around him. he had to let it be known too with the groans that came from him.
“you feel so good baby, so damn good.” he throws his head back.
“more…” you say, a little breathlessly too.
drew doesn’t even question it. he started hitting it harder and a little faster too.
“anything you want, love. this pussy was made for me baby. all for me.”
you wanted to respond and agree, but before you could, drew let a ball of spit out of his mouth and down to where the two of you connected. you were already very wet, and he already had a lot of precum going on.
and now the sound that was traveling throughout the house? straight pornographic.
“you hear that? you hear that pussy baby?” he says, lips back down onto yours.
but you could barely answer. he was going even faster and harder now, leaving you speechless with just your mouth open and small gasps coming from you.
but his hands move to your neck, “i asked you a question.”
your hands laid on top of his wrists, “yes papa.”
he let out an approving nod at your response. “good girl.”
drew moves his hands from around your neck, and he now has your knees pushed into your chest, with his hands firmly planted on the back of your thighs.
and because of this new position, he’s inside you so deep, and hitting that right spot which makes you scream out.
he smiles at the loud reaction. “is that it, baby? right there?”
“yea!” you whined back as a response.
he lets out a chuckle, and then feels you clench around him which knock him back down even further into the pleasure.
“yea baby, fuck. keep doing that.” he groans.
you weren’t just doing it to do it, tho. you were seconds away from cumming all over him.
“m’gonna cum…” you said, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“yea? go ahead baby. wanna feel it. cum all over this fat cock.”
a few more thrusts later, he got his request. you were cumming for so long on him, and he just kept fucking you through it. fucking you more harder than previously, actually.
he was getting so lost into it, so focused on getting his own release to. and with the faces and noises he’s started to make, you could tell he was almost there too.
“want your cum.” you said to him.
he moved is hands from your thighs and up to your hips, giving you the opportunity to wrap your legs around him and trap him into you.
“don’t play with me.” he warns.
“m’not! need to feel you cum inside me. i don’t care what happens.” you babbled. you definitely cared what would happen, but in the moment nothing else mattered.
“you’re playing a dangerous game, baby. y’know that?”
“i know. i wanna feel you fill me up so bad… make you a daddy.” you spur him on even further, knowing the affect it would have on him.
the grip he had on your hips got insanely tight. it kind of hurt in a way, but you didn’t care knowing that he was about to nut inside of you at any moment.
and just as you clenched around him like you did earlier, you felt him smash his hips into yours, this time keeping them connected together.
he came buckets into you. his hot, long ropes of sperm had you feeling full like it was nobodies business.
and he really needed to take a minute to collect himself. the both of you were gasping for air, him still inside you for a good minute after.
when he pulled out, you felt like jelly and so did drew. he laid back down himself, pulling your body into his.
“i’ve been waiting for that.” he spoke.
there was apart of you that kind of didn’t believe that. “you kept saying i wasn’t ready.” you chuckled.
“i know, bad mistake. i almost proposed to you halfway through.”
you laugh at him and snuggle up more into him.
he playfully taps your stomach. "we're gonna have to get you on birth control baby." he says, referring to the comment about giving him a baby earlier.
"i know." you giggle. "i kinda like the excitement tho i dont know."
he shakes his head, half jokingly and half serious. "these youngins"
you slap his chest and roll your eyes, "oh shut up unc." this makes him let out a laugh too.
the movie that was playing in the background was long over, and you both still had yet to realize netflix was asking if you guys were still watching.
#Spotify#barbiiecams#drew starkey#rafe cameron#outer banks#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey drabble#drew starkey fic#rafe cameron blurb#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey smut#drew starkey x black!reader#drew starkey headcannon#drew starkey angst#drew starkey x younger!reader#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron moodboard#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x black!reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
₊˚⊹。look my way, you’re what i crave | gojo satoru
wc: 2.6k
summary: you and gojo made a promise to yuuji.
contains: f!reader in mind but no pronouns used, food trip/taste-testing, many food descriptions, a little bit of (playful) jealousy, pouty gojo, yuuji calls reader sensei, established relationship (but no label).
a/n: a small extra scene that takes place some time between col 2.5 and col 3! not a food expert nor am i japanese, so food descriptions are just based off first-hand experience and some research i’ve managed to do! there are some switches in povs (gojo-reader-gojo) but i tried to keep it as distinct as possible! this is also my birthday gift for you, niku @stellamancer!! thank you for sharing this idea with me and for loving the col couple as much as i do!!
collection masterlist: conversations on love 2.5. and my body keeps saying (it's yours) <- you are here -> 03. so this is what it means to be in love + (extended scene) too good to be mine
‘Losing’ isn’t a word in Gojo’s vocabulary.
If it is, it’s usually addressed to the other party.
He’s been a winner ever since he was born, two blue eyes and an extra four hidden, holding power that manifests itself only once every few centuries. Some argue that he was born for that reason: to win, without doubt, incontestably.
And he supposes, most of it is true—which is why he can’t believe the loss he’s feeling right now, standing in front of the Daifuku stall across from you.
Never in his entire life did Gojo ever anticipate himself losing to anything. But with the way you’d casually nodded off, signaled so nonchalantly that you’d follow him but clearly didn’t—it has his head turning, finding you midbite a singular, shared stick of Yakitori.
He thinks he might have just experienced his first loss.
And the victor is none other than Itadori Yuuji.
.
You made a promise to Yuuji.
Back when he was still up for execution by virtue of being Sukuna’s vessel, you’d laid your confidence in Gojo.
“Sensei, do you really think it’s possible?” he asks, voice hesitant but eyes tinged with hope. You were discussing the ways his execution could go down—if it even will go down.
Shoko’s always pointed out that the most dangerous thing about you is hope, and how you hold onto it so deeply that you pass it onto others like a disease, spreading it to seep into skin and bones.
Gojo calls it your hidden technique, the trump card you pull out when everyone’s knocked down, spirits low. It’s what sets you apart, he thinks, how you’re able to survive in a world that serves as an antithesis to the values you hold.
“If Satoru said to leave it up to him, he’ll find a way,” you answer immediately, like you’ve known it all this time, experienced it first-hand—a memory. Then you add, an affirmation that sounds so close to fact, it reassures him, “he always does.”
“Let’s go to Osaka and eat all the street food when everything’s done.”
You made a promise to Yuuji, and here you are now, with Gojo, keeping it.
The streets of Osaka are bustling, crowded pretty much any time of the year—carts of all sorts of street food lined up with restaurants hidden in every corner. Neon banners and LED signs light up overhead, a twinkling food heaven reflected in Yuuji’s eyes.
It must be his first time here, you surmise, because he’s looking at every food stall like he’s ready to devour. You glance at Gojo, hands tucked in his pockets with his blindfold sitting snugly on his face. His presence is bright, blending in with the light, and he turns his head to you slightly, flashing you a small smile.
You tell yourself the warmth you feel is because of the heat radiating from all the vendors’ stoves.
“Sensei, what do you want to try first?” Yuuji interrupts your train of thought, but you’re sure he doesn’t mean to. He’s just excited, and his energy has always been infectious, spreading to both Gojo and you.
Gojo isn’t too big a fan of savory things, so you know you’re going to end up having to choose. You take a look around you to survey each stall, before turning back to Yuuji with a plan on how exactly you’re going to eat and conquer.
.
Gojo watches—the way you zig-zag across the street, following Yuuji as he walks up to each vendor. It’s both amusing and endearing seeing you being just as, if not more, enthralled at all the savory options in front of you.
Between the two of you, he’s always had the sweet tooth, so it tickles something in him that even when you don’t, your food-tasting game plan still consists of alternating savory-sweet-savory food.
Yuuji’s first pick is of course, Okonomiyaki, an iconic must-have in Osaka. He orders one piece at first, but you insist on two, knowing that the boy is more than capable of finishing a single one on his own. On the frying sheet lie columns of the pancakes–a simple mixture of flour, eggs, and cabbage–fried and coated in flavors bursting of sweet, savory, and smoky. The lady vendor is generous with the toppings and sauce she pours over it, packing the two pancakes in separate plastic containers before handing one to you and the other to Yuuji.
You turn back to find Gojo a few steps behind you, so you beckon him closer.
“Let’s share,” you whisper, once he sidles up next to you. The plastic crinkles in your hand as you try to slice a piece, Yuuji’s muffled ‘whoah’ heard from the side.
You blow on the slice, lips shaped into a small ‘o’; he doesn’t want to stare, not with Yuuji right there and neither of you having made anything official yet—
—but this is really tempting him to kiss you.
He doesn’t know if you can tell—any hint of his desire concealed by his blindfold, but you shove the slice right to his lips. And while it isn’t graceful at all, with the sauce probably smeared all over his mouth, it’s a good distraction from how much he wants you instead of the food right now.
The texture of the Okonomiyaki hits right every time, the crunchy and creamy combination providing a great contrast that complements how sweet and savory it is. The bite you take after his has your expression mirroring Yuuji’s, and he takes out his phone to capture this memory.
“Gowo-shunsheh! Tek a shulfeh!” Yuuji shouts, mouth still full as he lifts his fingers up into a peace sign. You grin, ear-to-ear, evidence of your happy tummy; he wants to pinch your cheeks.
“Okay, copy!” he raises his phone up at an angle, fingers hovering over the volume button as he grips the edges, “ready! 1…2…3… say Okonomiyaki!”
Only Yuuji shouts it, and when Gojo reviews the photo, you’re halfway through a fallen smile—face contorting into disbelief that he said something that cringey, in typical, loud, Gojo fashion too.
“Hey!” he points out, zooming into your face in the photo, “Again! You’re not smiling!”
You shoot him a look.
“We can try it with a .5 this time, the kids love it these days.” he suggests, flipping the phone and gathering you and Yuuji closer.
He takes two photos: one with flash and one without, and the moment he counts down, you mumble right by his ear to please not say ‘Okonomiyaki’ when you have to smile—he chuckles.
And he says it again. Both times.
You expected no less, but at least you tried.
“You should be our human tripod next time,” you tell him, letting Yuuji go ahead.
The photos look good, with you tiptoeing as you balance a hand on Gojo’s shoulder, Yuuji at the back with his hands raised, holding the empty plastic that used to house his Okonomiyaki.
“Knew you were just using me,” he pouts, hand reaching behind to rest at your lower back.
It’s been the subtleties with him this trip, tonight especially.
“Yep,” you play along, smiling oh-so-sweetly, “I knew those freakishly long arms were good for something.”
Before he can retort with something cheesy, along the lines of: ‘to hold you’ or ‘to hug you in your sleep’, you move away, catching up to Yuuji.
Your pick, for Gojo, is Taiyaki. It’s not his favorite thing to eat, but it’s sweet, and is still a good, nostalgic dessert, you’d like to think. Batter is poured all over the fish molds before being filled with the red bean filling. Then, after a few minutes of waiting, it pops out perfectly, ready to be eaten by the three of you. You ask for two again, only because this time, you know Gojo can finish one whole.
But when his eyes land on the Taiyaki you’re biting from and he realizes very quickly that it isn’t his, he feels a pinch.
It's a good thing the crunchy outside and soft, full inside of the Taiyaki is enough to make him shrug off the feeling. For now.
As the food trip goes on, you end up in many more stalls—
—a Takoyaki one, where Yuuji’s ‘ooo’s’ and ‘aaa’s’ are heard every time the balls are flipped and formed. The cooking on it is perfect, the pieces of octopus sitting just right with enough bite as flavors of soy and Worcestershire come through in its glaze. Gojo only eats one from the set of six that you ordered, and he wishes he just waited, because now Yuuji is eating half of the last one you couldn't finish.
—a Kushikatsu one, deep fried beef and vegetables coated in crispy, crunchy breadcrumbs and dipped in Tonkatsu sauce. Yuuji ends up finishing three whole sticks, while you manage to eat one. It’s an animated conversation between the two of you that Gojo can’t seem to insert himself into. A part of him feels a little pathetic now, tailing you both like a dog, but he just wants a little bit more of your attention.
—a Soba shop (not so much a stall) that serves amazing Cold Soba he definitely isn’t missing out on. Yuuji is practically buzzing, excited for anything noodles; it’s the main reason you’d suggested Osaka in the first place. He ducks in the shop last, Yuuji first with you in the middle, and when you settle in your seat right beside him, he snickers endearingly. Gojo can see everything, you’re reminded of that everyday and in moments like this especially. Right now, it's the way you sigh as soon as you release the top button of your pants immediately.
You pout at him as you’re served an order each, the dipping sauce in small ceramic as the noodles lie in bamboo boxes. It’s refreshing and light, just the right balance of sweet and savory; the buckwheat noodles have a lovely bite to them, not at all mushy. When he glances at you, halfway through your bowl, he can tell that you’re already full.
But just as he offers to finish yours—
“Sensei, are you going to finish that?”
—there’s Yuuji.
You shake your head, pushing your bowl towards him; Gojo feels that pinch returning.
A few good minutes of walking find you on the way to another stall—
—a Yakitori one that Yuuji practically skips to, as if he didn’t just finish a bowl and a half of Cold Soba, three sticks of Kushikatsu, three and a half pieces of Takoyaki, a half of one Taiyaki, and a whole order of Okonomiyaki.
Gojo decides to sit this one out, eyeing the Daifuku stand across the street. He’s gone here plenty of times before, but never with you—and if there's anything he wants you to try out here, it's fresh, special mochi, all soft and delectable, delicate in the way its decorated.
He takes off his blindfold, ruffling his hair. With Yuuji having gone ahead, it’s just the two of you.
“I’m going to buy Daifuku, there’s a special one I want you to taste,” he whispers excitedly, wiggling his eyebrows.
The expression on your face is the last thing he was expecting.
Your eyes are dazed, half-lidded, almost like you’re sleepy, and you blink at him twice before you’re able to fully process what he just said. You could be having a food coma right now, just standing.
“Oh, okay,” you hum, nodding as you smile, dopey, “I’ll follow.”
He considers just waiting for a bit, because he wants you to go with him. But you insist and shoo him away, telling him that the Daifuku might run out by the time Yuuji reaches the front of the Yakitori line.
So he goes, and maybe it’s a little petty, and immature, and stupid-silly, but he hates how this entire food trip has felt like a battle for your attention between him and Yuuji.
Even though he’s probably the only one who feels it.
So it’s one-sided. Definitely.
And he’s losing. Terribly.
Each individual piece of Daifuku looks majestic, pink mochi with red bean filling, sliced in the middle to leave room for a whole syrup-glazed strawberry. He orders two boxes to bring back home and an extra two pieces, one for the two of you to share and the other for Yuuji.
Gojo’s mouth is watering and he really wants to take a bite already, but you aren’t anywhere near him. So when he turns around and spots you, mid-chew on the last few bites your stomach can take from that shared Yakitori stick—he feels that pinch again. Because throughout this trip, all you’d done was split savory food with Yuuji, and all he wanted was a bit more attention, sharing half-bites with you.
When you finally meet his eyes across the street, signature blue amidst bright reds and neon greens, he’s pouting, and he hopes he’s making it very obvious that he wants (needs) you to go to him.
Your eyes widen before crossing the street, Yuuji right on your heel.
“Whoah, Gojo Sensei! That looks good!” Yuuji’s voice booms, earning a few looks.
Gojo holds one Daifuku on each hand, the other two boxes tucked in a plastic bag hanging by his elbow.
“It’s their special one!” He smiles at Yuuji, handing it over.
You look at him curiously, head tilted to the side as you watch him closely—how his smile doesn’t really reach his eyes.
Once Yuuji moves out of earshot, his series of ‘mmm’s’ blending in with the bustle of market chatter, you face Gojo and open your mouth wide, “Aaaah,”
Gojo doesn’t move for the first few seconds, but you meet in the middle eventually, his hand inching towards feeding you while you move your head closer. He keeps his palm open under your chin, cupping it to serve as a catch tray for any filling that might spill out.
There’s something about the look of you, half-sleepy and asking to be fed, that makes him feel warm and fuzzy—like that pinching feeling earlier never existed. Like he’d gladly do this everyday if you asked for it.
The soft, plush exterior of the mochi touches your lips, and you bite, the filling oozing out just enough for you to get a good portion of it. Flavors of red bean and strawberry hit your palate, and the filling doesn’t leak, but the syrup coating the strawberry catches onto your nose when you move away.
At the tip of your nose is a shiny red spot, glistening under the busy lights. The expression on your face is pleased, content—your head doing that side-to-side sway whenever you like the taste of something.
“Mmm,” you smile at him, “it’s yummy.”
And he doesn’t know what it is, if it’s the look you’re giving him, or if it's something in the air tonight, but he feels warm and full and still very much like he wants to kiss you.
So he decides, damn all the passersby.
He does one quick scan around him, making sure that Yuuji, at the very least, is away from the immediate vicinity. And when it’s all clear, he leans in.
Gojo kisses you on the nose in the middle of a busy street food road, and his lips are soft, almost feather-light, swooping in quickly before anyone can notice. You’re stunned into silence, but the moment you come to, he’s already swiped the strawberry syrup off you.
His cheeks are starting to turn pink, the sides of his neck already as red as the signs on the food stalls. And he can tell you feel it too, with the way your sleepiness seems to have faded into what now looks like surprise.
Still cute though.
(Always will be, in his eyes).
So, ‘losing’ isn’t really a word in Gojo’s vocabulary.
But if it is, he thinks he’d gladly lose to you.
(Still not to Yuuji though. He maybe still has to keep an eye out for that one).
thank you notes: to niku for being there always!! from answering my questions, brainstorming together, and just all-around everything!! col wouldn't be what it is now without you!! i love u, i hope i gave your love for food justice, niku!
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo angst#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#satoru smut#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#satoru x you#gojo x y/n#satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n#shotorus.writes#col#satoru#jjk#gojo x yn#jjk x you#jjk x yn#jjk x y/n
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sharing is Caring (18+)
Kinktober fic #1
Warnings: 🚨SMUT WEEWOO WEEWOO🚨
Notes: I’ve been so tired n busy lately this is all I could whip up, babes 🤷🏻♀️, also I would totally let them run a trai-
“C’mon, L.T. Let me ‘ave a turn with ‘er.” Soap pleaded.
The air in the room was thick, hot and heavy with the smell of your dripping pussy and the musk and sweat of the 4 men who were each pounding the brains out of your head.
When Simon had first suggested opening your relationship to other people, you were a little hesitant. Before Simon, most of your sexual experience had been mediocre quickies with guys in college, and you weren’t exactly eager to the idea of dealing with teaching another guy what you liked all over again.
But he had been so reassuring, coaxing you with enticing promises and a night of him making you explode all over his tongue. And that’s how you found yourself stuck between two muscled men, getting your holes stuffed while the others watched.
“That’s it, good girl.” Simon hissed lowly in your ear, his cock barreling into you.
Your mouth hung open, eyes half-lidded and glossy as you gazed back over your shoulder, your eyes catching on the wet, sticky sweetness coating his lower abs. You almost wanted to lick it.
Someone was grabbing your face, pulling your attention back over to the cock in front of you. “Open up, baby. Give me that mouth.” Gaz groaning was all the warning you got before his dick was pushed past your lips, your cheeks hollowing automatically as you gagged around his length.
Soft, squelching sounds were coming from beside you, making you vaguely aware of the more boisterous man Simon introduced you to. Trying to look over, you caught a glimpse of him fucking into his own hand before your head was force back straight.
“Dumb fuckin’ baby, keep your eyes on me.” Heat surged through your belly, Gaz pressing his hips forward as your nose met his pubic bone. “Oh, fuck, pretty g-girl-” Your throat and pussy clenched at the same time, Simon’s hips stuttering slightly, his cock dragging out of you and teasing that delicious spot inside you. One hand was reaching down, rubbing your clit, and you locked eyes with Price.
“Look at you.” He crooned, rubbing his cock on your soft, plush thigh. “Fucking wrecked, aren’t ya?” You nodded, groaning around Gaz’s cock.
The bed creaked under the 5 of you, Soap coming to bully Gaz out of the way, replacing the Brit’s cock with his own. The girth of him was a sudden change from how long Gaz had been, and you choked, eyes tearing up as you hit weakly against his leg.
“Be fuckin’ gentle, Johnny.” Simon snarled possessively.
“Sorry, L.T, she’s so-” His cock hit the back of your throat. “She’s so fucking perfect.”
A large, calloused hand grabbed one of your own, and you mewled as Price wrapped your hand around his thick cock, enjoying the tortured groan he let out. You felt stupid for ever questioning Simon, remembering how tentatively you accepted the idea. But now?
Now, you could get used to this.
(Idk might continue might not, kinda meh)
#poly!141#poly!141 x reader#simon riley x f!reader#ghost x f!reader#captain price x you#john price x you#gaz x f!reader#soap x f!reader#soap x reader#smut#shameless smut#kinktober
347 notes
·
View notes
Text
Babe It’s Okay, I’m Bi
James:
This beautiful man right here is my girlfriend Chloe. It’s a very weird situation so let me explain, a couple weeks ago Chloe was in some strange science experiment accident that caused her to swap bodies with this guy named Derek.
And from what information we’ve collected this may be a permanent situation. As you can imagine she’s been pretty upset the last couple of weeks. And I’ve been trying to be the best to support her while she figures everything out.
It’s been a challenge for the both of us especially since we just moved in together a couple of months ago. We’ve been dating for a while but I think we’re at a point where I’ve been thinking about proposing which this just messed everything up. Well not completely I guess…
I have been holding on to a secret from her for years now and I don’t know how to say it. Not that I ever thought it really mattered until now.
The truth is really don’t care if she swaps back to her old body, I love her. Okay let just say it, I am sexually attracted to girls but I also like dudes. Specifically dudes like the body she’s in.
She or he is so freaking handsome! He’s tall, tan skin, has this really sexy stash, and I can’t get over his tattoos. So hot!
But I’ve been trying to walk a very careful line with him. And we still low key flirt all the time but I can see his hesitation.
Which makes me sad, I just wish I can tell him without hurting his feelings.
On the flip side, it would so help since every time he asks me something about being a guy I get extremely turned on. Like why are his balls itchy from time to time, why is it easier to pee standing up, and the boners!
I don’t know if he even notices but he’ll walk around with a hard on in our apartment and it’s everything in me not to reach out and dig into his briefs.
Which makes me wonder, when the hell does he jerk off? I know he’s been staying busy lately, I’m just curious how he makes the time.
He’s been hitting up the gym a lot and when comes home. He’ll kick off his smelly shoes, workout clothes, and walk around sweaty in nothing but his undies. Which I can’t help but stare.
And the hardest part is at night, we still sleep in the same bed.
It’s my favorite part because he will cuddle with me in his sleep. I don’t think he even notices that I let him. But every night I’ll something poking my back and then his arm will wrap around me. He’ll start humping me in his sleep from time to time.
But I need to get this off of my chest. This is probably going to be permanent and I desperately want my relationship back!
So tonight I’m going for it. I’m going to let him know that I’m into him.
That Night:
I get off of work around 6 and the second I walk through the door I hear a light moaning coming from another room.
I walk to the outside of the door and peak inside.
That’s when I see Chloe stroking it on our bed with his headphones in. I don’t think he can hear me.
I hear his voice, “James..” so softly…
Fuck, he’s jerking to pics of me.
“James… baby I want you so bad…”
I start unbuttoning my shirt and I kick off my shoes ready to jump in any second.
“Holy shit! James!”
All of the sudden Chloe grabs a pillow and covers his massive boner.
I grin at him and say, “You don’t need your cover yourself I was enjoying the show babe.”
“Oh shut up you’re just saying that!”
“No, I mean it,” I say walking over and unbuckling my pants.
“Babe, you don’t have to pretend for me. I know this isn’t ideal but—“
I immediately grab the pillow and pull it away. His dick is fully exposed and he has this shocked look on his face.
Before he can react, I grab his junk and say, “does this look like I’m pretending?”
“But… but… I’m a guy!”
I start fondling his junk just lightly tickling his balls.
“Yeah and I haven’t been honest with you,” I say leaning in to his face.
“Yeah?” he says to me softly.
“I don’t really care what body you’re in, I’m attracted to you. And sides, you wouldn’t be the first guy I’ve been with.”
“What the hell James!”
I start rubbing his cockhead and he lets out a yelp noise.
“Can we talk about this later? I’ve been waiting to do this with you for a minute now,” I say right before kissing his neck.
“Oh my! James that feels so damn good.”
I kiss down his neck until I get to his nipples.
I twist one of them which makes his eyes roll back into his head.
I kiss down his chest to his happy trail until I’m at his thighs.
“God you have the nicest dick,” I say to him.
He grins, “thanks I think I like it too.”
“Well I think you’re going to like it more after this.”
“Huh?”
I wrap my lips around his dick giving it a very sloppy kiss. I begin to take down my throat which causes him to moan even louder.
“Holy shit yeah I love having a dick!!” he lets out.
I stop for a sec to let out a giggle.
“You know this is going to change everything for our sex life right?”
“What do you mean?” He says confused.
“Well, I’m vers but we don’t know if you’re a top or bottom yet,” I say grinning.
His eyes get wide, “I mean I’m open to anything but will it hurt?”
“A little at first but we don’t have to try right now,” I say back.
I look over his fully naked lower half, it’s the first time I’ve gotten to see it this close.
I rub his thighs down to his feet. I look up at him and say, “hey can I do something?”
“Sure babe as long as you go back to sucking this,” he says holding out his hard cock.
I lift up his feet and bring them to my face. I take deep breath before inhaling them.
“Are you kidding me?!? You’re not just bi but have a foot fetish?”
“Well I wouldn’t go that far, you just have some sexy toes,” I say kissing them.
“Yeah they are nice I guess, even for a boy.”
I pull off my pants and boxers, we’re both naked now.
“Oh I’ve missed your dick babe!”
“Aw thanks!”
“Can I touch it?” he says reach out.
“I would love nothing more”
I feel his hands touching all over my junk. It feels so good. Thats when I got another idea.
“Hey since we both have dicks now? What if we 69?”
“I’m not opposed!”
Chlo gets on top of me and starts to lower his crotch towards my face. I can feel his lips touch my dick. That’s when I feel his mustache which makes he squirm at bit.
It takes us a second before we have a full rhythm down. I’m sucking and we start pacing faster before Chlo lifts his head.
“Oh my god! I’m about to cum!!”
And with very little warning, Chlo pushes his 10 inch dick down my throat and shoots so much cum out.
As he pulls out it’s dripping from my mouth. It takes a second to register but his cum tastes pretty good.
“That was amazing,” he says panting.
“Well I’m not done yet,” I say pointing at my eager boner.
“Well how a nice surprise for you.”
That’s when he does something I’d never expect. Chlo wipes a bunch of cum off my mouth and proceeds to rub it on the soles of his feet.
“Since you like them so much,” he says with a silly grin.
He takes both of his feet and wraps his toes around my dick.
He begins to move back and forth with them and it’s so hot that I can’t even take it.
His feet touch my dick for like 1 minute before I burst all over them.
I look at the cum covered toes and I can’t help myself from licking them clean.
I go grab us a couple of towels and walk back in to see my beautiful boyfriend laying in bed grinning.
“You wanna go somewhere for dinner?” I say to him.
“Nah let’s do take out, I’ll be ready for round 2 here soon,” he says patting at the bed for me to come back.
“Fuck, I love you!”
“I love you too, even if you forgot to mention the whole liking guys thing.”
“Well babe, what can I say? I’m bi.”
582 notes
·
View notes
Text
Books And Looks - Luke Thompson
Word Count: 1006
Summary: Some say even well-known actors can have a crush on authors, can they not?
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city as the cast of Bridgerton wrapped up another long day of filming for season four.
Jonathan, Claudia, and Luke Thompson found themselves at their favorite pub, unwinding with drinks in hand.
“To another successful day!” Jonathan cheered, raising his glass.
“To another successful day!” echoed Claudia and Luke, clinking their glasses together.
They settled into a comfortable silence, the camaraderie of their shared experiences providing a soothing backdrop to the evening.
After a few sips, Jonathan leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“It’s going to be strange going back to normal life after this,” he mused. “I’ve gotten so used to the hustle and bustle of the set.”
Claudia nodded. “I know what you mean. There’s something about the energy here that’s hard to replicate in the real world. But I am looking forward to seeing my sister again.”
“You have a sister?” Luke asked, intrigued.
They’d spent so much time together on set, yet there were still many things they didn’t know about each other’s personal lives.
Claudia smiled warmly. “Yes, she’s a few years older than me. We’re very close, even though she’s quite the introvert.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “An introvert? Doesn’t sound like anyone in your family.”
Claudia laughed. “You’d be surprised. She’s a famous author, but she avoids the spotlight as much as possible. Her books have a huge following.”
Luke’s ears perked up at this revelation. “A famous author? What’s her name?”
Claudia hesitated for a moment, then said, “Y/n Jessie Peyton.”
Luke’s eyes widened, nearly spilling his drink in his excitement. “No. Are you serious? She’s one of my favorite authors in the world! I’ve read all her books at least twice.”
Jonathan chuckled at Luke’s sudden burst of enthusiasm. “Looks like you’ve got a superfan on your hands, Claudia.”
Claudia shook her head, laughing. “Luke, she’s very private. She doesn’t like the spotlight, and she doesn’t do meet-and-greets.”
Luke’s expression turned pleading. “Please, Claudia, you have to introduce me. I promise I won’t make a scene. I just want to tell her how much her work means to me.”
Claudia sighed, seeing the sincerity in Luke’s eyes. “I can’t make any promises, Luke, but I’ll talk to her. We’ll see what happens.”
Over the next few weeks, Luke didn’t let up.
He would bring your name up in conversation whenever he could, his admiration for your work shining through.
Claudia found it endearing but was also protective of your privacy.
One evening, after another long day of filming, Claudia received a call from you.
You chatted about your lives, and inevitably, Luke’s name came up.
“Luke Thompson?” you repeated, surprised. “The actor?”
“Yes, the very same,” Claudia replied. “He’s a huge fan of your work, y/n. He’s been pestering me non-stop to introduce you two.”
You laughed softly. “Well, that’s flattering. I didn’t realize my books had such an impact on people. Maybe… maybe we could arrange something. A small, casual meeting. No big deal.”
Claudia smiled. “I think that would make his year, y/n. Let me know when you’re free, and I’ll set it up.”
A few days later, Claudia walked onto the set in full 'Eloise' with a secretive smile.
She had arranged for you to visit, and she couldn’t wait to see Luke’s reaction.
As they broke for lunch, Claudia spotted Luke and Jonathan chatting by the catering table.
“Hey, guys,” she said, trying to keep her excitement in check. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “A surprise? What kind of surprise?”
Before Claudia could answer, you walked onto the set, looking slightly out of place but wearing a warm smile. Luke’s jaw dropped as he recognized her.
“No way,” he whispered, his eyes wide. “Is that…?”
Claudia grinned. “Luke, Jonathan, this is my sister.”
You stepped forward, extending your hand. “Hi, Luke. Claudia’s told me a lot about you.”
Luke shook your hand, trying to keep his composure. “It’s such an honor to meet you. Your books have had such a profound impact on me. Thank you for your incredible work.”
You blushed slightly, clearly not used to such direct praise. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear that.”
Jonathan, sensing the significance of the moment, clapped Luke on the back. “See, dreams do come true, mate.”
You all laughed, the initial tension easing into a more comfortable atmosphere.
You spent the rest of their lunch break chatting about your books, the writing process, and life on set.
Luke found himself captivated not just by your words but by your presence.
There was a quiet strength to you that drew him in, and he could tell you felt a connection too.
As the days passed, your visits to the set became more frequent. You and Luke would steal moments to talk, sharing stories and laughter.
It was clear to everyone around you that there was something special brewing between you two.
One evening, after a particularly long day of filming, Luke and you found yourselves alone on set.
The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over everything.
You sat on a bench, enjoying the peaceful silence.
“You know,” Luke began, “I never imagined I’d get to meet you, let alone spend so much time with you. It feels like a dream.”
You smiled, your eyes reflecting the fading light. “Life has a funny way of surprising us, doesn’t it? I never thought I’d enjoy being on a set, but here I am.”
Luke took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “Listen, I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I’d love to get to know you better, outside of all this.”
You looked at him, your expression softening. “I feel the same way. I’d like that very much.”
You shared a smile, the unspoken promise of something more hanging in the air.
As the first stars appeared in the night sky, Luke reached for your hand, and you didn’t pull away.
#benedict bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#colin bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x you#bridgerton x y/n#bridgerton x female reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton imagine#benedict x you#benedict x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#luke thompson x reader#luke thompson#luke thompson x you#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton netflix
430 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m intersex and I’m very hesitant to make this post because it could very quickly turn into a shitshow if I don’t word my thoughts correctly, but I’ve noticed a small, slowly growing trend and I think it’s important to talk about this before it gets out of hand.
I’ve seen a couple of posts with a lot of likes and reblogs where trans people accuse intersex people of being transphobic when they want hormonal treatment or surgery for themselves to look more female or male. It’s never about forced surgery on intersex children, but specifically about adult intersex people who want treatment for themselves. In these posts people see it as subconscious transphobia because they think this mindset is supporting the gender binary and harms trans and nonbinary people who technically get intersex bodies once they start to transition with hormones and surgeries. In their eyes not only are intersex people who use hormones/surgery to visually get out of the intersex sphere abandoning trans people, they’re also working agains nonbinary people who use intersex people as proof that there are more than two sexes which justify the existence of more than two genders.
The fact that there are a lot of similarities between trans and intersex people should be obvious. Both groups are saddled with bodies that doesn’t necessarily represent their gender and both can experience severe body dysmorphia, but at the end of the day the biggest difference is that the bodies of intersex people change on their own.
If you’re trans, imagine if you were assigned your preferred gender at birth and was perfectly content and happy in your gender experience when you suddenly hit puberty and start developing sex characteristics that goes against your gender and suddenly people around you start telling you you’re not actually the gender you think you are. Basically, imagine the way you felt before you came out/transitioned, except reversed.
I can for the life of me not understand why a trans person who thinks hormones and surgeries are acceptable for trans people can’t extend that mindset to intersex people.
It’s an ongoing debate among intersex people wether we belong in queer spaces and I can see both sides. A lot of intersex people consider themselves cishet people with a birth deformity who aren’t any more queer than people with dwarfism. Other intersex people feel more at home in queer spaces because there’s generally more acceptance of people who fall outside the norm.
But at the same time, in my experience, you get a lot of the same questions in both spaces. Both queer and cishet people often assume intersex means nonbinary, and I’ve been asked more than once how intersex people can call themselves cis or trans when their bodies fall outside the two majority sexes, forgetting that it’s all about what gender you were assigned at birth.
This leads to situations where you’ll meet trans men with functioning penises and trans women with natural breasts. A child might be born with something that looks like a vagina with a big clitoris and be assigned female but once they hit puberty the big clitoris becomes a small penis.
And even if they’re trans and start developing sex characteristics more in line with their true gender they might not be ready for it yet. As a teenager you become a target if you stand out so if you’re a trans girl living as a boy and you suddenly develop breasts that can be horrifying.
I personally experienced a much milder version of this. As a child I was perfectly content with people calling me a girl but I also felt like a different kind of girl. Not in a “not like the other girls” or tomboy way. More like a girl with something else in the mix. It was a very physical feeling because I was naturally stronger and more boyish looking than other girls and I didn’t really feel like I fit in with either boys or girls but at the same time it didn’t bother me when I was grouped in with the girls during school activities. I’d play around with makeup in my room, giving myself a beard and chest hair without wanting to be a man. It just felt like the right mix. Then I hit puberty for real and developed breasts and hips but also a full beard and chest hair. Despite all the times I had done it to myself I was mortified. This wasn’t something I could take off. I stood out wether I wanted to or not. Shaving left me with stubble. People looked. People commented on it. And my breasts didn’t grow super big and a lot of my body fat sat on my stomach like on a man, which meant if I didn’t wear a very flattering bra and feminine clothes I was sometimes mistaken for a chubby guy with manboobs. I was NOT ready for that. I was already struggling to fit in at a new school so this was like a social death sentence, not to mention I wasn’t sure about my own gender yet. It was something I should be allowed to work out on my own in peace when I was ready for it without people constantly asking what I, a child, had in my pants.
So hormones was a gift that allowed me to “transition” when I was ready for it at a later age. I’m off those hormones now and live as a “woman with something extra” like I always knew I was, but the things I had to go through as a child makes me very sympathetic to intersex people who does not feel that way and just want to be a man or woman with nothing extra because that’s their gender and like everyone else they want their gender and gender expression to align.
I don’t think it’s fair to expect people to be a martyr for other people. Most intersex people think trans rights are important but that doesn’t necessarily mean they belong in that debate. I know a lot of trans people who think women’s rights are important but feel no obligation to help the cause by sharing their experience of what it was like living as one gender and then another and how much respect and dignity they gained or lost after they transitioned.
So while I understand the natural instinct of wanting intersex people be part of a lager cause I also think it’s unfair to call intersex people who want to look like their preferred gender transphobic.
I really hope I made myself understood and that this isn’t an angry post. I just saw this “intersex people are transphobic for taking hormones” opinion with little to no understanding of the intersex experience and I’m hoping to shed a bit of light on that ❤️
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)
request: hii ive been superr into kn8 recently and was wondering if i could req a lil hoshina fic/ imagine wherein theyre in an established relationship and like no one knows and reader can be like a capt or vice capt from a diff division who was visiting or like was also assigned to the same mission/ is the back up and if its ok to req that reader’s fighting style is like that of shinobu’s where its more on piercing motions rather than slicing. im a sucker for secret relationships where they just dont say it out loud but theyre not exactly hiding it either. thank uu
notes: you have a horrible ex (gender not mentioned), TYSM FOR THE REQ im so sorry it took so long to get to
wc: 1900
You didn’t have a good prior experience with dating in secret. Or rather, you had an awful experience before so near the beginning of your relationship when you had to decide what to do, it was a rather tough decision to make. You and Hoshina had been close friends since far before this relationship and so he knew all about how your ex had been seeing other people while keeping your relationship “private”. It was a no-brainer for him truly— he had told you that he thought to make it public before you had even mentioned it, but you asked him to wait a little first. While it thrilled you that he wouldn’t even hesitate to make your relationship known, he was the vice-captain of the famous 3rd division at the end of the day, and you were also a vice-captain yourself. If you had disclosed this to even your fellow officers, it would make it out somehow and that would make it a relatively big deal.
That being said, it still frightened you to keep a relationship private even if you knew Hoshina would never do anything horrible, making it a rather difficult decision for you to make.
Yet as time passed, you felt sure that you were okay with it being private. Rather, you almost preferred it that way. You the way Hoshina’s face would light up when you walked into a room and it would have people questioning him, only for him to smile and play it off somehow. Yet, he'd hold eye contact with you from across the room and smile— just at you. He'd very obviously look for excuses to come visit your division when he could get anyone else in the 3rd division to grab some documents— anyone who wasn't the vice-captain with loads and loads of things to do, yet only you would see the look he gave you when he walked into your captain's office. He’d then find time to pop by your office just to say a quick “love you” before he’d hurry back to his division to tackle the mountain of work he’d given himself. It was silly; there was no need for him to do so for a couple more minutes with someone he lived with, but he loved to be with you and you loved to be with him. And he'd do anything to make you happy.
Before you knew it, you were fine. Hoshina had washed away all the remaining hurt you felt from your past relationship, and you felt so safe with him. You were fine now.
“Soushirou, I think we should date secretly,” you said to him one day, and immediately he stopped what he was doing to sit next to you.
“Why?” he asked, eyes wide and tone serious. “I think we should share. If you're concerned about the media, surely it won't get out that quickly.” His voice softened. “Moreover, I'd like to brag about my lovely partner.”
You shook your head. “I'm alright now, Soushirou,” you said, softly but surely. “You make me feel alright.”
The look on his face softened and he looked so full of love it made you fluster. See? You'd be damned to let alone else see such an expression on his face.
“I'm thrilled,” he said, and you laughed a little. “No, I really am. How about we just tell close friends for now? And we can always tell more people later on. I'm serious when I say I want to brag about you a little.”
“That sounds great,” you said, a soft smile on your face. “I have some people I've been dying to share this news with too.”
It had been almost a year since the two of you started dating, and while you were both getting used to dating in secret by now, Hoshina was starting to get comfortable around you in public… almost a little too comfortable.
In the recent turn of events, the entire defense force had been far busier than ever, giving you both more work and less time to spend together. Although both of you loved the work you did, it was needless to say that you missed each other. A lot. This started to lead to quick kisses in an empty hallway or longing stares from across the meeting that lasted a little too long. You'd scold him later at night that people were going to start questioning it, but he truly couldn't care less anymore.
“But baby,” he said, his arms pulling you close. “I miss you.”
Your heart tightened as you leaned into his touch. You were in his room to wish him goodnight and scold him a little before you went to bed. You were calling it a day, but unfortunately, he wasn’t just yet. Your hands cupped his face as you rubbed your thumbs along his exhausted eyes. He didn’t need much sleep to keep him going, so he didn't really get eyebags, but you could tell he was tired.
“I miss you too,” you said and something in your heart broke a little. “If only we were in the same division at least.”
“Oh, if only,” he said.
“Soushirou, will you sleep soon?” you asked.
“I’m not sure…” he said, looking at the mountain of binders on his desk from all the research he was doing.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” you asked. “It’s probably quicker if we do it together.”
“No, go sleep,” he said. “It’s late enough as it is.”
“Then, together?” you asked, hopefully. It had been so long since he was last by your side while you fell asleep. “You look exhausted.”
He smiled softly and closed his laptop.
"Yeah," he said. "It's been a while since I fell asleep with you."
However, yet another week had gone by and there was no end to the work, and you were both utterly frustrated you couldn’t see each other. More of your kisses had been shared in empty offices than at home lately, and dinner was really the only time you had together. So at some point, you stopped caring about keeping your relationship private— if they find out, they find out.
It truly felt like a miracle when it was announced your division would be backing up the 3rd division in another kaiju attack. You had been so sick of watching Hoshina come home horribly beat up all the time ever since the kaiju attacks were often centred around the 3rd division base. You’d finally be of some help and you'd get to work with him.
Like Hoshina, you specialized in neutralizing smaller kaiju, and like Hoshina, you wielded a sword. Your division was only backing up the 3rd division, so you got to watch Hoshina expertly cut down kaiju and neutralize them while you made sure smaller yoju weren’t getting away. You loved watching Hoshina do what he did— there was such beauty in the way he used his blades. To others, it may look like some flashy moves from someone brimming with talent, but any sword user would see the careful foundational work behind every swing he did. It was truly nothing other than stunning to watch.
Yet, as more kaiju came his way and his suit seemed closer and closer to overheating, you couldn’t possibly just watch.
“Permission to backup Vice-Captain Hoshina, please,” you asked your operation room through your earpiece.
“Permission granted, please go ahead,” they immediately replied.
“Thank you,” you said and that was all you needed, you were rushing to his side. Oh, how you missed fighting with him. It was back when you were still a regular officer when Hoshina would often make time to help you with ways to use your sword that would fit you more— it’s been an awful long since then.
Hoshina had managed to slice just enough to expose a glimpse of the core, but that was all you needed. If the core was visible, you’d just pierce it— and you did exactly that. While Hoshina would slice at incredible speeds, you would pierce with your sword at precise gaps or points with impact.
“Oh, your work’s fantastic as always,” he said and you rolled your eyes.
“Says who,” you said.
These kaiju were just perfect for the way you worked together. They had an insanely hard shell so Hoshina would crack it in any way possible, and you'd jam your sword precisely into the cracks until you exposed the core. While it was tough work, you were ecstatic. It had been so long since you had worked with Hoshina and it reminded you of all the nights he had spent working with you. You had come so far— and he had been with you to get you this far.
Before you knew it, it was over— the honju had been neutralized and the yoju were taken care of. Before you knew it, Hoshina would be the grand vice-captain of the 3rd division that you had little connection with again.
“Reminded me of all that practice we would do so many years ago,” he said and that made you smile. He had treasured those moments too.
“I would love to tell you from back then that I’d actually make it somewhere,” you said to him. “That you weren’t merely wasting your time.”
“Not once had I not wished to help you,” he said immediately, almost cutting you off. “You couldn't possibly know just how thrilled I was to see another sword user.”
Your heart swelled— he meant the world to you.
There were a few of his officers nearby so you made sure to keep your voice down.
“How long have you loved me?” you asked, simply curious, but as soon as it left your lips you realized how awkward that sounded. “Sorry—”
“For forever,” he said, without hesitation. “Truly since we’d train all those years ago.”
Your eyes widened. You didn't expect that for some reason.
“Gosh, I’m just stupid, aren’t I?” you said, flabbergasted. If you had just cleared your mind, you wouldn’t have gotten played around by that stupid ex of yours and you would’ve been with him for so much longer.
“No,” he said, breaking eye contact, looking horribly ashamed. “I was just lame as hell. If I wasn’t a coward I wouldn’t have let an asshole take you away.”
You laughed. “I think that one was on me,” you said. “It’s okay, we’ll make up for lost time now.”
“Do you know that I love you?” he asked and that made you chuckle. You did.
“I love you too,” you said.
Your conversation was not loud enough for anyone to hear, and that was okay. It was just for the two of you. However, saying all this didn’t change the original problem of the sheer lack of time you had to spend with each other lately— so when were you going to make up for said lost time?
Simple, you’d use the time you had.
Hand-in-hand, you walked off the site together and neither of you could hide the smiles on your faces.
“Soushirou, when’s the last time we held hands?” you asked, and your question made you let out an appalled chuckle.
“Don’t ask,” he said. “I thought of the same thing just now and a part of me died.”
You’d hear other officers gasp softly or murmur when they saw you, but you’d let them wonder. You’d let them wonder why the Hoshina Soushirou looked so bashful, hand-in-hand with you. You'd let them wonder if he always smiled so lovingly around you.
You’d let them wonder if you were his special someone.
And they’d be right. You were.
#hoshina x reader#hoshina soshiro x reader#soshiro x reader#hoshina soshiro#hoshina#kaiju no. 8 x reader#kaiju no 8 x reader#kn8 x reader#alright.....#ITS FINALLY DONE IM SO SORRY THIS HAS BEEN IN MY REQS FOR AGES#i feel like there wasn't much emphasis on the way we used our sword i apologize i suck at writing fighting scenes#(hence why there hasnt been ANY IN THE THINGS IVE WRITTEN OOPSIES)#i had quite a bit of fun writing this one i do not think i did it much justice but i do hope u enjoyed still#THANK U SM FOR THE REQ AND TY FOR READING !!!#i love hoshina i miss him sm#request
380 notes
·
View notes
Text
— MIKE SCHMIDT NSFW ALPHABET
— a/n - like everyone else the josh hutcherson renaissance got me too and i’ve been obsessed with him and this was a product of that, hope you enjoy!
— warning(s) - 18+ mdni, somewhat implied afab!reader, not proofread
join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
doesn’t know much about aftercare at the beginning of your relationship but a few months in you’ve figured out what works best for the both of you which is usually a warm washcloth some water and a sometimes a nice bath if you’re both up for it but if not cuddles it is
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
his arms and hands would probably be his favorite (because he knows how much you like them) and his favorite body part of yours would probably be your eyes
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
he’s gotten off multiple times just by pleasuring you, it could be him going down on you or fingering you or something else it doesn’t matter just making you feel good makes him feel good
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
has gotten turned on by the way that you take care of him so well, he’s always busy taking care of abby but who's there to take care of him?
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
he wasn’t a virgin when the two of you got together but he also wasn’t the most experienced. sure he’d fucked around some but he was always too busy
F = Favorite position ( goes without saying)
anything where he can see your face clearly so he can see how good he can make you feel and so that he can kiss you easier
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
he doesn’t try to be goofy but in the beginning he was more often than not
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
not super groomed but not incredibly messy either, again something you helped him figure out because it was something he didn’t care about before you
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
so sweet and giving and loving. he’s always making sure you’re alright, makes sure you remember the safe word you put in place before anything really starts, checks on you throughout the entire thing no matter what
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
used to jack off because it was all he had the time for until he met you and there still isn't always a lot of time for anything more but you have no issue helping him out
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
mommy kink, spit (giving or receiving but mostly receiving), praise (giving and receiving)
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
his room or the shower mostly because of the privacy it gives you but he’s brought you to the pizzeria once of twice for some fun
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
genuinely everything about you gets him going it’s so easy to rile him up
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
nothing too dark, no bodily fluids (minus spit and cum)
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
loves giving but loves receiving more
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
really depends. sometimes it’s fast and needy and messy other times it’s soft and slow and incredibly intimate
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
loves taking his time but quickies are all you two have time for more often than not, whether it be in the mornings in bed before you get up for the day or right before a date night that rare time vanessa is able to watch abby for a couple of hours
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
yes and no. depending on what it is he’s hesitant because he’s nervous of hurting you
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
judging by how little he sleeps, probably 2, 3 if you're lucky. if you want more then you’ll have to wait a little while
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he owns a few but he rarely uses any on himself he much prefers using a vibrator on you
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
doesn’t hate being teased but loves to be the one doing the teasing
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
oh he’s so loud, he’s whiny and is always whimpering
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
this wouldn’t happen often but one time after he sees the way you look at her, he asks if you’d want to have a threesome with vanessa. the two of them would be so focused on you and little to nothing would actually happen between them because all their attention is on you but vanessa ended up in your bed a few more times after that
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
he’s a bit above average but makes up for it in girth
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
so high after so long of just using his hand or a toy but it dies down a little bit after a few months
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
if it had been a particularly rough day he might fall asleep within the hour but i can see him still taking a while to fall asleep
© kolsmikaelson : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.
dividers made by : @.cafekitsune
#◜ caitee’𝗌 works ✎ ˚✧ ꜝ#mike schmidt#five nights at freddy's#mike schmidt x reader#mike schmidt imagine#mike schmidt headcanon#mike schmidt x you#mike schmidt smut#five nights at freddy’s x reader#five nights at freddy’s imagine#five nights at freddy’s smut#josh hutcherson#josh hutcherson x reader#josh hutcherson smut
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
p1harmony and the coquette boyfriend trend
pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader
warnings: none
based on this tiktok trend
a/n: just a cute and silly little reaction (while i work on tumblr girls) inspired by @yunhoszn 𐙚 this trend is sooo over but who gaf if i wanna put a bow on my piwon’s biceps i should be able to like… also piwon as a whole give me the vibes of that picture of the rotc kid saluting with the caption “me when a bad bitch tell me to do something” so i tried to emulate that here too LMAOO
౨ৎ keeho
i already know kyo’s chornically online ass was made aware of this trend even before it actually took off, was going to bring it up to you, but being the stubborn man he is, opted out of doing so because he thinks it should be you begging him to let you tie him up in a little bow!! and he’s so real for that!! goes as far as reposting every single video following the trend he comes across, and starts humming the lana del rey song whenever your near so he can hopefully telepathically send you signals that he wants you to put a bow on his bicep and show him off!! his approach is a bit unconventional but low and behold it somehow works, and when you do ask him to film that tiktok he annoyingly pretends he didn’t even know about the trend in the first place, as if you didn’t pick up on his very obvious signs. says shit like “why a bow? but omg you’re soooo obsessed with me!” (and you are!)
౨ৎ theo
i imagine you bring it up to him and he’s just confused as to why that’s a trend and what its supposed to mean, and even when you explain it to him he still doesn’t get it. you show him examples and he still doesn’t get it. ask you meaningless questions like “why put a bow on me? what does the bow represent? i’ve never heard of this type of couple trend?” but his questioning doesn’t mean that he’s opposed to it!! quite the opposite actually, he’s very endeared over the fact that you want to make a tiktok with him despite your relationship being fairly new. i do think he would rather have little bows in his hair rather than the usual tie around the bicep, please put him in pigtails and call him your pretty princess because it’s what he deserves! you two end up laughing the entire time you style his hair and film the video, and it’s little moments like these that make your relationship oh so sweet
౨ৎ jiung
literally will do anything you ask for him because once he’s locked in, he’s locked in. when you timidly bring it up to him he’s gonna nod at you with big eyes and his little concentrated pout, reassuring you with no hesitation that yes, he would love for you to wrap him in a pink bow, and no, you don’t have to be embarrassed to ask him for anything. i honestly think ji has a bit of a possessive side if his radio conversation with keeho about his future gf dancing up on other men is anything to go off of, and the fact that you want to claim him as your on the internet, even if it is for a silly little trend, makes his heart happy and feeds into that quality of his. once you’ve filmed the tiktok, with one of his pretty fingers adorned with a singular pink bow, he gives you a kiss on the cheek and keeps the bow on for the rest of the day, even if he has practice later. this experience leads him to spending more time on tiktok despite his grandpa personality, and he searches for other couple videos you two can make together in the future :] just so sweetie pie
౨ৎ intak
honestly just like keeho he’s on tiktok all the time and gets behind trends pretty quickly, so when intak begs you to do this new trend he keeps seeing on his for you page you aren’t surprised. honestly, you had also been wanting to participate in the trend, partly because it’s cute and partly because tak has gorgeous arms, but you kept it quiet because you wanted him to work for it! it’s pretty amusing actually, he ends up forcing you to come along with him to the gym when he works out much more often just so he can lift heavy weights and flex his arms for you. he just wants you to deem his biceps worthy of being wrapped in a bow!! please don’t tease him for too long because he will have a permanent sad puppy look on his face for the rest of the month. when you finally cave and wrap his arm in a bow he is sooo cheesed. had this goofy grin on his face and flexes his muscles which results in him accidentally splitting the bow in two, which both pisses you off and turns you on at the same time?
౨ৎ soul
literally is so pliable under your hands, much like jiung he will let you do anything to him with little to no complaints or even acknowledgement. he simply exists to make his girlfriend happy! you don’t even ask him to film the video because you already know the answer will be yes (in the form of a strange sound), so you get to work as soon as you make way into his dorm room. you stay true to shota’s reputation of being slightly abnormal by wrapping the entirety of your roll of ribbon around his entire body, mummifying him from head to toe and topping it off with a delicately tied bow at his ankles. he doesn’t complain throughout the entire process, even if you’ve interrupted his gaming sesh with seob. when you film and publish the ridiculous tiktok, you point your phone towards him so he can appreciate the fruit of your labor, and when he finally does get to see the video for himself he lets out the biggest laugh that puts an equally big smile on your face
౨ৎ jongseob
you both actually discover the trend together! you two have a routine of cuddling up and scrolling through one of your for you pages, alternating phones each night depending on your battery levels. tonight, jongseob has your back against his chest as he scrolls through your tiktok when the trend first pops up on the screen, and you both get intrigued and scroll through the let the light in sound on tiktok to watch more. you don’t say anything to him but seob can tell you want to participate, and he ends up sweetly informing you that “we can do this trend if you want! i don’t have ribbon on me right now though..” and with that your eyes light up. the two of you end up buying ribbon at the craft store the next day for the sole purpose of filming that video, and you both rush to his dorm afterwards to film the tiktok. you end up settling on wrapping the dainty ribbon around both of his arms and torso, the pair of you refilming several times to get it “just right”. just like the other boys, seob is just happy to please his pretty gf!
© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!
ʕ•̫͡ 𐙚
#p1h#p1harmony#kpop writers#piwon#p1harmony x reader#p1harmony drabbles#p1harmony scenarios#p1harmony reactions#yoon keeho#keeho x reader#choi taeyang#theo x reader#choi jiung#jiung x reader#hwang intak#intak x reader#haku shota#soul x reader#kim jongseob#jongseob x reader
631 notes
·
View notes
Text
Share Your Address
based on Ben Platt's "Share Your Address", and my rendition of the song is attached! Please enjoy!
Summary: Melissa is intoxicating. It might be too soon, but you want everything that has to do with her.
WC: 5k
You had never planned on meeting Melissa Schemmenti, much less falling for her. But just like that, she waltzed her way into your life just a month ago at the bar. As you’ve learned, she’s also someone who almost never lets her guard down. The same would go for you- always guarded and hesitant to let anybody into your life. It’s done you wrong before. For someone who always had your walls up around you, you fell hard for that redhead. You’re not quite sure you could pin any one thing that made you fall for her as hard as you did, and you’re only continuing to fall. There’s just something about her that’s so intoxicating. Maybe it’s her sweet and somehow simultaneously musty perfume, or the way that her shiny red hair always perfectly frames her face. It might be the way that she has that sparkling Hollywood smile without even trying, or the fact that she is quite literally everything that you’ve always dreamed of- hardheaded, not afraid to speak her mind- she’s always got that hint of sarcasm and fire to her. Or maybe it’s just that she’s Melissa, and she has an absolutely addictive personality. Whatever it is about the second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, you can’t get her out of your head.
Darling you might think it’s too soon, but I can’t get you out of my head now. Picturing myself in your room, and I wanna be with you ’til I’m dead now.
It’s been a month, and in that month, you and Melissa have been practically inseparable. After work, you’re with her and cooking dinner or treating her to a nice night out on the town. You end up in her bed quite a few times. On Saturdays, the two of you will go out to the club and relieve what you truly believe might’ve been the highlight of your life- meeting her. On Sundays, you soak in the peace and quiet, taking every breath and mentally preparing yourselves for the next week.
And if you aren’t together, you’re texting. You tease Melissa about the fact that she should probably be teaching her students, but she dismisses your concern and promises you that they’re working on an independent project- they’ll get her attention if they need her.
The truth is, you just can’t get the redheaded second grade teacher out of your head- you’re falling for her, and you’re falling for her fast and hard. It might be too quick to judge, but there’s something special about her. Just like when you were younger and more naive, you picture yourself in her room. You daydream about the things you would do to her if you were with her at the moment. And when your imagination becomes a bit over the top, you have to leave your cubicle and take a few laps around the building to cool down those rather steamy thoughts you’re having. But then, of course, she texts you again- and once again, you feel like you’re on fire.
You want Melissa Schemmenti until you are no longer on this earth. If you spent your last few breathing moments with her, you’re fairly certain it would be worth it- a life well lived.
I want your friends to be my friends. I’ll make you breakfast in your bed. I want it all with you. And if I’m coming on too strong, it’s ‘cause I’ve waited far too long for someone just like you.
It’s only been a month, but here you are with Melissa, and you’re making breakfast that the two of you are planning to enjoy in bed. Now, usually she would never condone that- it took her long enough to begin eating on her plastic covered couch (and you’ve somehow managed to convince her to take it off… sex on a couch covered in plastic is not something you ever wish to experience again). But she’s willing to make an exception for you; you seem to be the exception to everything she ever thought she knew in life.
“You’re so sexy when you cook in my clothes,” Melissa wraps her arms around your waist and kisses the slope of your neck. Her right hand swiftly trails down your body to grab your ass. “God.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you chuckle quietly. “I’m sure you look way hotter in it.”
You feel her rather than hear her refute that claim as she shakes her head into your back.
The two of you settle on her bed with a wonderful spread of breakfast and coffee. Somehow, she’s managed to fix your cup of coffee to perfection. Of course she knows how you prefer your coffee- it’s one of the first things she learned about you.
It’s a warm, still somewhat sleepy haze that you’re in when her phone begins to ring. She glances at the caller ID and sighs before flipping her phone over on the nightstand. You had just so happened to catch a look at it, and you know her work wife won’t be too thrilled if she doesn’t answer.
“You can answer it,” you say through a mouthful of eggs. “It’s okay, hun.”
The redhead quirks her lips to the side but relents, although she makes it quite clear to you that she’s not appreciating the fact that your little bubble has been burst. She does pick up the phone though.
“What, Barb? It’s nine in the morning.”
“Well, good morning to you too, Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher quips. “I was just calling to see if we were still good for lunch today?”
Green eyes look over to you. You nod with a smile before mouthing, ‘Hang out with Barb. It’s okay.’
“We are,” the redhead grumbles. “Can I go back to bed now?”
“Oh, you were still asleep! I’m sorry; I just figured you would already be up,” Barbara apologizes.
“I’ll see you at noon,” the redhead next to you sighs out. “Bye.”
Melissa hangs up the phone before placing her phone back down. She turns to you. “I forgot about lunch with Barb,” she admits quietly, knowing that the two of you had made plans to walk around the city today.
“It’s fine, hun,” you promise her. “You deserve to go have fun with her. Although…” you trail off as you debate whether you want to voice your thoughts or not.
“What?”
“I would love to meet her, and the others in your group,” you tell her softly. “I- I know it’s soon, but I have a feeling this could be something, and I would love to be able to meet them.”
The redhead gives you a warm smile- not what you had expected from her. “I think that would be nice. How would you feel about joining me an’ Barb for lunch today?”
“Really?” you ask softly. “You’re up for that? I was- I was nervous that I was coming on too strong.”
Melissa pulls you in for a soft, sweet kiss. “What you feel for me, I feel for you. An’ I don’t know why, but I’m absolutely crazy about you.”
“Good,” you sigh with relief. “I’m sorry if I come off as too strong, but I- I’ve waited far too long for someone like you to come into my life.”
“A hot mess?” the redhead teases.
You roll your eyes. “Someone who is as beautiful and as sexy as you while having a quick and brilliant mind.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
You do. Breakfast is forgotten until after you shut her up.
And so you join your… well, she does introduce you to her work wife as her girlfriend- you join your girlfriend for lunch. And Barbara is nothing but elegant and kind to you, just as Melissa said she would be- she ensures that you’re always a part of the conversation while Melissa fills in the missing pieces of their stories and conversation for you.
And come a week later, on a Friday, you’re able to leave your own place of employment an hour early to meet your girlfriend at her coworkers’ favorite bar for happy hour.
The Abbott crew welcomes you with open arms, just as Melissa had told you they would.
I want a key to your house. I wanna pick up your clothes. I wanna clean up your mess. I wanna know where you hide things, wanna be in your photos, wanna share your address. I know, I know it’s too soon, too fast, but this could last. I wanna share your address. I know, I know it- it feels like love, so let’s shack up. I wanna share your address.
It’s been two months now that you’ve been seeing Melissa. And you can only find yourself falling for her more and more. It’s not what you had expected in the slightest when you first met her at the bar. In all honesty, you were expecting a one night stand at best, not to still be here with this beautiful woman two months later and officially dating.
You spend more time in Melissa’s house than your own apartment at this point- the redhead’s house feels more like home to you than your apartment ever has. You have a drawer reserved for you, a toothbrush for the nights that you spend with her, and you’ve made a little space for yourself on the nightstand on what you think of as your side of the bed.
The second grade teacher is out and grocery shopping by the time you wake up on this lazy Saturday. You know she’s already out, because there’s an index card propped up on her pillow that tells you exactly where she is, when she expects to be back, and it’s signed with a heart.
You’re exhausted from this week. but you know that you should probably get out of bed for the day. By the time you make your way down the steps, the aroma of the coffee that your girlfriend had made has you practically running for the pot.
Once you’ve finished your coffee, you glance around the living room, and there are various articles of both of your clothes from last night’s escapades. Your cheeks flush at the mere thought of what had taken place last night, and a dopey smile washes over your face.
With a sigh, you begin to pick up both yours and Melissa’s clothes, following the trail of pants, shirts, and undergarments back into the bedroom. You can’t help but chuckle at how desperate the two of you were after you got back from the bar. You toss them into her laundry basket and bring it down the steps with you on your hip. As you’re emptying the things into the washing machine, you see a glimmer of something hiding behind the big piece of metal. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you look. It’s a club- of course it is. Leave it to your girlfriend to think about needing a weapon if she was ever doing her laundry. You roll your eyes in good nature before depositing detergent into the machine and turning it on.
As you make your way back up into the living room, you can’t help but notice the abundance of pictures that the redhead has in her house, all in beautiful frames. There’s something about it that makes you want to be in her photographs. You’re sure you’ll get there someday, maybe when you share an address with her.
You’ve just settled onto the couch when you hear Melissa fiddling with the front door. In an instant, you’re back on your feet and letting her in before heading out and managing to juggle the last few bags from her shopping trip.
“Thank you,” your girlfriend smiles at you when you return. She’s already unpacking the various bags when something catches your eye. It’s a picture frame that she just bought.
“That’s pretty,” you comment quietly. “Whose picture is going in there?”
Melissa smiles and then pulls out an envelope. “Ours.”
Your heart swells in your chest. “I- I know it’s a bit soon to be saying this, and I don’t expect you to say it back, but: I love you.”
You’re immediately pulled into a warm kiss. “I love you too,” she murmurs as she rests her forehead against yours.
I just wanna stare at your face, and spend quality time with your mother. We can over drink at your favorite place, and we can waste the whole next day to recover.
You meet the Schemmenti family about six weeks into dating. And Melissa’s mother is an absolute delight. It’s clear as day who your girlfriend takes after in both looks and personality. Mathilde, but she insists you call her Tillie, is a lively woman with a bright personality and a tendency to be sarcastic and fiery. And while she has that bite to her, much like your girlfriend, she has a softer and warmer side that she shows you once she sees how in love you are with her daughter- you rarely take your eyes off of that bright and happy face now that she’s in the comfort of her mother’s home. She’s- she’ stunning; there’s no other way to put it.
Melissa is in the bathroom when Tillie finally asks you, “Why my Melly?”
“I should’ve known you would ask that,” you chuckle as you sip your wine. “She’s home. It’s as simple as that.”
“It’s funny,” the older woman breathes out. “Melly said the same about you.”
From that day on, you and Tillie spend a lot of time together. From Sunday dinners with the Schemmenti family, to a nice lunch if you have a day off, you find that you and your girlfriend’s mother get along quite well. It doesn’t take long for her to quietly confide in you that Melissa is head over heels in love with you- something that she’s never seen before, even with her ex-husband.
The act of over drinking at her favorite place takes often more than you’d really care to admit. But there’s one night where the two of you end up absolutely obliterated, and you truly have to take all of Saturday to recover from your wicked hangovers.
It all started when Jacob suggested that the Abbott crew go out for a happy hour on a Friday. And for some reason, Barbara agrees and convinces your girlfriend to tag along. Because the two of you were supposed to go out tonight together, she begs you to join the school crew for a few drinks.
A few drinks turns into a crazy night. It starts out tame enough, a beer or two. But then Ava shows up, claims that the place that you’re at is far too boring, and she escorts all of you to a skanky dive bar- the one that the two of you met in actually.
“This is our bar,” your girlfriend nudges you. “Who woulda thought that Ava would like a place like this.”
“The stickier the bar, the better,” the principal tells her, having heard the redhead’s comment.
You don’t even remember how you got back to Melissa’s house. The last thing you can somewhat string together is dancing with your girlfriend and giggling as Barbara brought over another round of shots for your group. That one did you in.
You wake with a groan. God, your head is pounding. And if you’re feeling this way, you don’t even want to guess how Melissa is feeling.
Your stomach turns, and you bolt for the bathroom. Before you know it, your girlfriend is right there with you, emptying the contents of her stomach into the trashcan beside you.
“Oh my god,” you groan out as you flush the toilet.
“You’re tellin’ me,” Melissa whines as she closes up the bag and reaches for the mouthwash. “I’m never drinking again.”
“Neither am I,” you grumble as you reach for the bottle once she’s finished with it.
With a few grunts, you manage to pick yourself up off the floor before assisting your girlfriend up too. The two of you just barely make it back to bed before your hand dives into the nightstand on your side and you pull out the Advil. You shake a few pills into your hand before offering Melissa the bottle. She follows suit, and then you’re swallowing them with the little bit of water that still remains in your water bottle.
You spend most of the day asleep, and it takes you until approximately four in the afternoon to even slightly feel like a human. Your girlfriend drags you to the couch before she sluggishly makes her way into the kitchen. She comes back with a plate full of food.
“Lis, if I eat now, I will hurl again.”
“Just eat, she grumbles as she takes a bite of a cracker. “Soak up the booze with carbs.”
“I’m never drinking again,” you grumble as you force yourself to eat a few pieces of toast.
“Neither am I,” Melissa promises herself.
Of course, the next weekend, you’re out at the bars again.
I wanna watch you while you sleep. I know I might sound like a creep, but I can’t help myself. And it’s so easy to forget that we’ve barely even met, but I want no one else.
It’s one of those rare days where you wake up before Melissa on a Saturday morning. Her soft snores fill the room, her hair is splayed out underneath of her, and there’s a hint of a smile dancing on her lips as she dreams. You only hope that she’s dreaming of you.
You know it might come off as a little creepy, maybe odd, but you find yourself just studying her face as you lay there with her. She’s like an angel- your redheaded, fiery, angel. Her eyes open slowly, and she blearily blinks away the sleep. Warm, green eyes find yours.
“Good morning,” you whisper as you kiss her nose.
She giggles just slightly before pulling herself closer to you. “It is a good morning when I wake up with you.”
You just continue to hold her close to you and drink in the wonderfully delicious haze of this sleepy morning.
In that moment, you realize that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. In bed with your beautiful girlfriend- the one, you think quietly to yourself. You know that the two of you haven’t been together nearly long enough to fully know if she’s the one you want to be with for the rest of your life. They say that if a couple stays together for more than two years, they’ve hashed it all out, and that seems to be the threshold that a lot of couples seem to struggle to make it to, but there’s a gut feeling that you have about her. You have a feeling that you’ll make it to that two year mark, and then a long while after that if you’re lucky.
I want a key to your house. I wanna pick up your clothes. I wanna clean up your mess. I wanna know where you hide things, wanna be in your photos, wanna share your address. I know, I know it’s too soon, too fast, but this could last. I wanna share your address. I know, I know it- it feels like love, so let’s shack up. I wanna share your address.
It’s a Thursday that you’re supposed to go to your girlfriend’s house for dinner when she calls you while you’re clocking out of work.
“Hey, babe,” you answer with a smile.
“Hey.” You can tell immediately that Melissa is not in a good mood. “So, I know we’re supposed to have dinner tonight at my house.”
“But?” you prompt quietly, and you can’t quite hide the sadness in your voice.
“One of my kiddos, Sharmia, her mom is gonna be late picking her up. By like… three hours- won’t get back into the city until six at the earliest, and that’s if she doesn’t hit any traffic.”
“Oh,” you sigh softly. “Hey, that’s okay. I know you want to be there for her, and she’s more important.”
“Thank you for understanding,” your girlfriend says quietly into the phone. “I knew you would.”
“Of course I do,” you tell her. “What if I stopped by the school and brought dinner for all of us? And then I can just come over with you once she’s picked up.”
“You don’t have to do that,” the redhead says, although she’s hoping you insist. Today has been rough enough as it is, and now she’s stuck in the school for longer than she’d like to be.
“I don’t have to, but I want to,” you promise. “I can’t say that Wawa's will be nearly as good as what we were going to cook up tonight, but… it’s something.”
“Thank you.”
You pull up to the school just a little while later with hoagies and drinks in hand and call to let her know you’re at Abbott.
Only about thirty seconds later is your girlfriend and her student pushing open the door for you to enter.
Sharmia’s mother ends up coming to the school at 6:30, apologizing profusely for keeping the two of you at the school and waiting for so long. Melissa just waves her off, telling her she would do it if it meant Sharmia was safe.
They leave, and then you and your girlfriend are walking out of the school hand in hand. You pull up to her house in record timing.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t just let yourself in,” Melissa tells you as she unlocks the front door and pushes it open.
“Hey,” you get her attention quietly with a squeeze to her hand. “It’s no big deal. I still got to spend time with you.”
“Yeah,” Melissa sighs. “But I’m sure you would’ve rather been able to come here and relax with a glass of wine instead of sitting in Abbott with me eating Wawa.”
“You know I’m a slut for a good Wawa hoagie,” you joke. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Still,” your girlfriend sighs as she drops to the couch. She kicks off her shoes. “Jesus, I’m exhausted.”
You hum your agreement.
It’s an early night for the two of you, in bed and asleep by nine. Her chin is tucked into the crook of your neck, your arms keeping her against you to keep warm.
And come Saturday, the two of you are doing your rounds of shopping. She stops in front of the key making machine and inserts her key.
“What are you doing?” you furrow a brow.
Melissa smiles at you. “I’m making you a key… that way if I have another late night or you need something and I’m not there, you can just let yourself in.”
Slowly, your things make their way to Melissa’s house, and it’s fair to say that you practically live with her. You do still have your apartment though, in case something goes awry between the two of you and you need a place.
But your clothes intermingle with hers, you picking up her clothes and tossing them into the laundry with your own.
It warms your heart to know that there isn’t much your girlfriend hides form you at this point. You know where most of her weapons scattered around the house are- you always discover them with a chuckle.
More pictures of the two of you begin to litter the flat surfaces in the house, and you’re included in a few family photos with the entire Schemmenti clan. There’s even a picture of the Abbott clan with you in it.
The longer that you stay with Melissa, the more you become fairly certain that you truly will end up with her in your life forever, and this house will become yours too.
I wanna be your emergency contact. You can put me down ‘cause you know I know you best (I know you best). It doesn’t matter where I go without you I’ll never be home. I wanna share your address.
“Do you really have to go?” you ask your girlfriend after she tells you about the upcoming PECSA conference.
“I do,” Melissa sighs softly. “But it’s only for a weekend, and I’ll be fine. Other than that one PECSA weekend, I’ve been fine.”
“What happened at this one weekend?” you ask with an amused smirk.
The redhead’s cheeks tint pink. “I may have broken my wrist after I took a tumble.”
“Melissa!”
“It was a couple years ago, and I’m fine.”
“Mel, if something like that happens again,” you take her hand gently in yours.
“You’ll be my first call,” she promises. “Well, after Barb if she ain’t with me.”
“Okay,” you sigh. “Just please… try not to break another bone, especially if I’m not already with you.”
“Trust me,” your girlfriend rolls her eyes. “I’m really going to try to not break another bone. That shit hurt like a bitch.”
She pulls out her phone, and after a few taps, you’re listed as her emergency contact on her phone. “See? You’ll be the first person to be called if I can’t call myself.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you fold your arms with a loving smile.
Melissa shrugs. “Yeah, and you love me.”
“You’re lucky I do.”
When PECSA weekend rolls around, you hate how alone you feel. You attempt to keep yourself busy, but it’s weird not being with your girlfriend. She’s constantly texting you about all of the fun things that she’s doing though, and it makes you happy to know she’s having a good time. Even though she told you that you were more than welcome to stay at her house over the weekend, and you do, it doesn’t feel like home the way it does when she’s with you. Home isn’t her house, you realize with a soft sigh. Home is wherever she. When she doesn’t end up calling you because she broke her wrist again, you sigh a breath of relief. And as soon as she walks through that front door and pulls you into a tight hug, you feel the energy in the room shift. You’re home again.
I wanna be your emergency contact. You can put me down ‘cause you know I know you best (I know you best). It doesn’t matter where I go without you I’ll never be home. I wanna share your address.
You’re sitting at work when you get a phone call from your girlfriend. That’s odd- she should be standing outside at recess duty, not calling you.
“Hello?” you answer, voice laced with concern.
“Hun,” Melissa’s voice sounds a bit panicked. “I- I took a fall out on the recess yard.”
“Shit, are you okay?” you ask, although it’s clear from her tone alone that she isn’t.
“N-no,” she stutters out. “Barb’s gettin’ ready to take me to the ER now, but I- I wanted to let you know.”
“Shit,” you mutter as you close your laptop and begin to gather your things. “What hospital?”
“Jefferson,” she gasps out. “I- I definitely broke my ankle, hun.”
“Okay,” you sigh into the phone. “Okay, hold tight, babe. I’ll be there soon.”
“Thank you,” she whispers out.
“I love you,” you tell her before hanging up. You march yourself down to your boss’s office and let him know you’re heading out- family emergency. He just nods, and that’s all you need to sprint out of the office and out to your car.
When you get to the hospital, Barbara heads in your direction. “She broke it. They have her pretty drugged up right now, just a warning.”
You just give her a tight lipped nod before making your way into the room they have Melissa in.
“I told ya I’d call if I ever got hurt,” the redhead smirks, although her words are quite slurred.
You roll your eyes and make your way over to her, kissing her softly. “What the hell were you doing that you broke your ankle?”
“Janine challenged me to a monkey bar race,” your girlfriend tells you. “Hey, have I ever told you how beautiful you are, mi amore?”
“Idiot,” you grumble, but there’s a smile on your face. “You can be so stupid.”
“Yeah,” Melissa grins dopily. “Stupid in love with you.”
I want a key to your house. I wanna pick up your clothes. I wanna clean up your mess. I wanna know where you hide things, wanna be in your photos, wanna share your address. I know, I know it’s too soon, too fast, but this could last. I wanna share your address. I know, I know it- it feels like love, so let’s shack up. I wanna share your address.
It’s only a year into dating that Melissa asks you to move in with her officially.
“Really?” you ask her.
Your girlfriend gives you a look that tells you she’s being serious, and you’re ridiculous for even questioning it. “Hun, you practically live here as it is. You have a key, you’re rarely ever at your apartment anymore, all of your stuff is here. I hav nothing to hide from you, your picture is all over this house. Why don’t we just…spare you the rent and share an address?”
“You don’t think it’s too soon? Too fast?” you ask her. You know that the two of you have thrown caution to the wind throughout most of this relationship, but still- moving in together officially is a big step.
She shakes her head. “If I thought we were moving too fast, do you think I would’ve asked you to move in?”
“If you’re serious, then yes. I’d love to actually move in with you.”
“Can I ask you one more question?” your girlfriend asks.
“Shoot.”
“So if we’re sharing an address, do you want to share a last name too?” Melissa drops to her knee.
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead
#abbott elementary#abbott elementary fanfiction#abbott elementary fanfic#melissa schemmenti fanfic#melissa schemmenti#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti x you#melissa schemmenti fanfiction
177 notes
·
View notes
Text
Falling Into You - Stiles Stilinski x Female Reader
Summary: you and stiles finally give into your unknown crush on each other
Words: 2.6K
Warning: Heated makeout session; if you squint there's dry humping
Y/N’s POV
Living with Stiles has been far from boring. Ever since my dad was killed and my younger brother - Isaac - went to live with Derek, Sheriff Noah Stilinski graciously opened his home to me. That meant living with Stiles too, and let me tell you, it has been anything but dull. Stiles has this knack for turning even the most mundane day into a storytelling session filled with the antics he and Scott get up to.
I’ve grown to love it here. The Stilinski house is like a second home, and the sheriff is like a second dad to me. He’s been incredibly supportive, especially during the tough times. And then there’s Stiles. He’s… well, he’s Stiles. Quirky, witty and always wearing that mischievous grin.
Lately, though, something’s shifted. I’ve caught myself stealing glances at Stiles when he’s not looking. His passion for solving mysteries, his loyalty to his friends—there’s something undeniably endearing about him. Maybe it’s the way he cares for everyone around him, or the way he throws himself into every insane situation without hesitation. But it's more than that. There's a warmth in his laughter, a genuineness in his concern, that makes my heart flutter a bit faster. And as much as I try to ignore it, I can't deny that a crush has been slowly blossoming.
Living under the same roof, it’s hard to keep these feelings under wraps. I find myself wanting to spend more time around him, hoping for moments where it’s just the two of us, away from the chaotic everyday that is Beacon Hills. Yet, I’m also terrified. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if it ruins our friendship or makes things awkward while living with him?
Stiles is currently sat cross legged on my bed, looking so engrossed in whatever supernatural mystery he's delving into. His dedication is admirable, even if it means sacrificing proper posture for the sake of research. I can't help but steal glances at him every now and then, admiring the furrow in his brow as he concentrates.
I wish I could tell him how I feel. But the fear of ruining what we currently have, the fear of changing the dynamic between us, it’s suffocating. So instead, I go back to focusing on my assignment, the words blurring on the page as my thought drift back to him.
The room is quiet except for the clicking of keys and the occasional muttered comment from Stiles. As I sit at my desk, trying to concentrate on the assignment in front of me, my mind wandering again—this time an entirely different scenario and it’s one that feels both exhilarating and terrifying.
I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to set aside the fear and uncertainty, to sit next to Stiles and lean in, closing the distance between us. What would it be like to press my lips against Stiles’? Would they be as soft as they look, as warm as his laugh? My heart races at the mere thought, a flurry of emotions dancing within me.
I picture the moment vividly: closing the space between us, feeling the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, and the anticipation before our lips meet. I imagine his hands, tentative yet steady, finding their place on my skin, maybe on the curve of my cheek or the small of my back. How would it feel to have his touch ignite a thousand sparks, to feel the electricity between us?
There’s a mix of longing and hesitation, the desire to experience that connection, yet the fear of disrupting the comfortable equilibrium we've found in our friendship. But in my mind's eye, it's a beautiful chaos—a leap into the unknown, a chance to explore something deeper, something that might exist beyond our late-night conversations and shared moments.
Before I can continue imagining me and Stiles the said boy breaks my thoughts, “Hey Y/N! Come here,” He speaks, excitement in his voice but his eyes never once leaving the screen.
I force myself out of the reverie, blinking away the vivid daydreams as Stiles called out to me. His excitement is palpable, contagious even, and I push aside the rush of emotions to focus on the present.
I rise from my chair, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness as I make my way to where Stiles is seated. He’s still hunched over the laptop, his attention entirely captured by the screen. With a careful step, I settle on the bed behind him, leaning over him enough to rest my chin on his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s got him so intrigued.
His warmth seeps through the fabric of his shirt, radiating against my chest, a sensation I try desperately to ignore. The scent that envelopes me—a blend of old books, faint traces of motor oil and a lingering hint of coffee—should be distracting, but it’s oddly comforting. It’s quintessentially Stiles, a unique combination that feels inexplicably familiar and reassuring.
I glance at the screen, feigning interest in whatever supernatural phenomenon has grabbed his attention. But truthfully, my focus wavers between trying to understand what he’s showing me and the proximity between us. His presence feels magnetic, drawing me in, yet I fight the urge to let my thoughts drift into forbidden territory.
“Look at this,” He exclaims, pointing to a section on the screen. His enthusiasm is infectious, and for a moment, I forget the inner turmoil, getting lost in his excitement.
Stiles is engrossed in explaining something on the screen, his energy palpable. I try my best to keep up, nodding along as he talks, but the proximity between us amplifies every emotion within me.
Suddenly, he turns his head, excitement lighting up his russet eyes as he tries to make a point. His words trail off mid-sentence, and in that suspended moment, our faces are unexpected close. I feel his breath, warm against my skin, a sensation that sends a shiver down my spine.
As if in slow motion, I notice every tiny detail—the freckles scattered across his pale skin, the way his eyes dart down to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my gaze again. My breath catches in my throat, and I’m sure he can heart the erratic beat of my heart. There's a shift in the air, an unspoken tension that crackles between us. His cheeks flush with colour, a shade of red that matches the intensity of my own emotions. I can't tear my gaze away from him, from the way his eyes flicker between mine and the way his lips part, as if searching for words that elude him.
For a moment, time seems suspended, our silent exchange speaking volumes. I feel a surge of courage and vulnerability intertwine within me, a silent plea for something more, a leap into the unknown.
But just as quickly as the moment arrives, it slips away. Stiles blinks, breaking the trance, and clears his throat, shifting slightly away. "Um, sorry, got carried away there," he stammers, his voice a tad higher than usual.
The air feels charged with an awkward tension, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. I try to ease the discomfort by standing up, intending to head back to my desk and salvage what’s left of our usual camaraderie. But before I can even take a step, Stiles’ hand shoots out, wrapped around my wrist in a swift motion that catches me off guard.
Caught off guard by the sudden proximity, I stumble and practically find myself in Stiles's lap. His warmth envelopes me, and for a moment, our heartbeats synchronise in a chaotic rhythm that seems to echo the unspoken emotions between us.
Stiles’ eyes lock onto mine, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability swirling within their depths. His tongue darts out to wet his pretty pink lips, a nervous gesture that betrays the intensity of the moment. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, his hand finds the back of my neck, drawing me closer.
In that heartbeat before our lips meet, the world around us seems to still. His touch sends a surge of electricity through me, igniting a fire that I didn’t know was simmering within. And then, finally, our lips touch in a kiss that feels both anticipated and inevitable.
As our embrace intensifies, the laptop becomes a mere afterthought, pushed aside to make way for the burgeoning heat between us. Stiles's movements are deliberate, his hands finding my hips with a confident touch, guiding me to straddle his lap as our bodies mold together.
The kiss deepens, the connection between us sparking a newfound intensity. Stiles’ hands, warm against my skin, slip under the fabric of my teeshirt, sending shivers cascading down my spine. His touch is electric, fingers tracing patterns along my hips, a gentle yet possessive hold that ignites a fire within me. I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingertips as I tilt his head back slightly, deepening the kiss. There’s a dominance in his action, a confidence that surprises me but also excites me in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
His lips move with purpose, fervent and seeking, a silent demand for more as our breaths mingle in the shared space between us. Each movement, each touch, feels like an unspoken confession of desires long kept hidden.
My heart races as I lean into him, relishing the sensation of his lips against mine, the way his body responds to my touch. And as I lose myself in the passion of the moment, it becomes clear that Stiles, despite his usual playful demeanour, possesses a commanding presence that takes my breath away.
As the intensity of the moment heightens, Stiles’ touch remains both from and reassuring, his hands guiding me with a tenderness that contrasts his newfound dominance. With a gentle yet firm pressure, his long, nimble fingers press against my back, coaxing me to lower myself onto him. There’s an undeniable pull in his touch, drawing me closer until I’m lying atop him, our chests pressing together in a shared rhythm. Our breaths mingle in the small space between y=us, the heat of the moment making the air around us feel charged.
His chest rises and falls with each breath, syncing with mine, creating an unspoken harmony. The sensation of our bodies pressed together sends jolt through me, an electric current that ignites every nerve ending.
As I rest against him, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against mine, a rush of emotions floods over me—desire mingled with a newfound intimacy, vulnerability meshed with a sense of comfort in this uncharted territory.
Stiles's gaze holds a mixture of passion and tenderness, a silent understanding passing between us in the shared silence. His fingers trace gentle patterns along my back, a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying a reassurance amidst the fervour of the moment. His lips part as if to speak but instead, in a very Stiles fashion, a torrent of words spill out in a hurried stream.
“I-I've wanted to do this for so long, and I'm sorry, I should've asked, I mean, I wanted to ask, but then this moment happened, and I just... I didn't want to ruin it, but I should’ve—" He babbles, the words tumbling out faster than I can comprehend. His apology mixes with an admission that he’s wanted this as much as I have, and amidst his rambling, I can’t help but laugh softly, finding the sudden flood of words endearing.
Before his apologies and explanations can continue, I decide to silence him the best way I know how. With a gentle yet decisive motion, I cup his face in both hands, capturing his lips in a kiss that speaks volumes, stealing away his words and replacing them with the silent language of our shared desires.
The kiss is deliberate interruption, a way to convey everything I’ve been feeling in a single moment. It’s a tender yet firm assertion, an assurance that words are unnecessary amidst the eloquence of our connection.
As our lips meet, I feel a shift in the air, the nervous energy dissipating into something more serene. Stiles’ initial surprise melts into a reciprocated warmth, and soon, the kiss becomes a dance of shared affection and unspoken apologies. In that suspended moment, the kiss becomes a story of its own—a narrative of unspoken emotions conveyed through the gentle meeting of our lips. Stiles's initial surprise gives way to a newfound ease, his lips molding against mine with a familiarity that feels surprisingly natural yet exhilaratingly new.
His touch, tender yet assured, ignites a cascade of sensations. His hands explore, tracing the contours of my back, sending tingles racing along my skin. There’s a delicate balance in his touch, a mix of reverence and longing that speaks volumes about the dept of his emotions.
As our kiss deepens, I’m enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions. Stiles’ lips against mine feel like a discovery—a blend of softness and fervour, an unspoken language that surpasses any verbal communication. Each movement of our lips is a revelation, a testament to the unspoken connection between us. His closeness has a gravitational pull, drawing me in and enveloping me in a sense of security and desire. In this moment, I feel cherished, desired, and seen in a way that goes beyond mere words.
The intensity of our kiss, a universe of emotions contained within, is abruptly interrupted by the jarring ring of Stiles’ phone. Startled, we break apart, a shared groan escaping both of us as the moment fractures, replacing by the intrusion of reality. Stiles fumbles for his phone, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. With a sigh, he answers and puts it on speaker, revealing Scott’s urgent voice on the other end, asking if Stiles had found any leads.
As Stiles responds to Scott’s inquiries, I take the opportunity to sit back up, adjusting my position so that I’m straddling his waist. The shift seems to catch Stiles of guard, his breath hitching slightly, and I can feel the bulge pressing against my ass. I watch as Stiles bites his lip, a subtle attempt to suppress any involuntary sounds, his focus divided between the phone call and me, shifting on his lap. His eyes meet mine for a fleeting moment, and I can see a hint of frustration at the interruption, mixed with a smouldering intensity that sends a thrill through me.
Leaning closer, I offer an apologetic smile, silently acknowledging the disruption but unable to resist teasing him but grinding my hips against his, pretending to get more comfortable on his lap. I notice the way his breath catches again and his hands dart for my hips unsure if they want to stop my hips or help me roll them against that growing bulge.
“Sh-shit,” A moan escapes him and Scott falls silent as Stiles’ cheeks bloom a pretty shade of red, “Fuck, I gotta go, talk later.” And with that Stiles is hanging up, practically throwing his phone on the floor and in one quick moment has us flipped over so I’m laying underneath him.
“Hi.” I breathe quietly, an ache between my legs.
“Don’t you ‘hi’ me you little tease.” He grumbles, leaning on his elbows either side of my head.
“What you gonna do about it?” I challenge, loving the gleam in his eyes.
Stiles chuckles softly, his eyes dancing with mischief as he leans closer, his breath brushing against my lips.
"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you've started."
Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023
#teen wolf#teen wolf x reader#teen wolf x you#teen wolf x y/n#teen wolf fluff#teen wolf smut#teen wolf angst#teen wolf headcanons#teen wolf fanfiction#stiles stilinski headcanon#stiles stilinski#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles stilinski x female reader#stiles stilinski x you#stiles stilinski x y/n#stiles stilinski fluff#stiles stilinski angst#stiles stilinski smut#stiles stilinski smut#dylan o'brien
987 notes
·
View notes
Text
cw: angst, emotional manipulation, dry humping until completion
being the poor little hostage könig is in charge of looking after… he feels annoyed and helpless, listening to you sob for hours. he’s sympathetic; he can see how cohabitating with someone of his caliber might be distressing after what you’ve gone through. even after years of experience he still isn’t quite sure how to deal with this part of his job— the emotion and human interaction part. he avoids making direct eye contact with you and speaks to you as little as possible, figuring you just need space to process. little does he know that everything he does, down to the way his eyes shift uncomfortably in his hood, makes you feel even worse, self conscious and isolated, just like you’d felt when you were kidnapped. you longed to be close to the man that saved you from the situation you thought you wouldn’t make it out alive from, and the rejection you felt from him was only making the crave worse. you’d do anything to get his attention…
he returns back to your guys’ temporary hideaway to find you in the same spot he left you, curled up in the corner of the bed. his heart hurts at the image you make. he stands awkwardly in the middle of the room holding a paper bag. "i brought food and… more tissues."
you break down at the sound of his voice, the first voice that hasn’t evoked a deep sense of dread and fear into you in weeks. you can’t see through the fog of tears in your eyes, but you hear the sound of heavy footsteps inching toward you, the crinkling of the bag being set on the creaky wooden table. a large, tentative hand is placed on your shoulder, and you can’t help but lean into the touch you’ve been craving.
“don’t… don’t leave again.” you plead brokenly.
“okay…” könig sounds startled. “what do i…?”
“can you just sit with me? hold me?”
he hasn’t held anyone the way he holds you since before he can remember. it’s hesitant and stiff at first, you leaning up against his broad chest, his strong arms wrapped gingerly around you. he softens up the longer you sit there, your face buried in his neck as your crying turns into sniffling, and eventually his warm embrace feels indistinguishable from that of someone you’ve known forever— a lover, even. he just makes you feel so safe and protected. it’s not your fault that your confused, touch-starved brain reads the situation as something that it’s not.
könig’s supposed to be the clear headed one. he should stop you when you start crawling further on top of him, he shouldn’t let you sit yourself in his lap. it’s inappropriate and he knows it, only a sick man would take advantage of a young girl in such a vulnerable state. but it’s not like he isn’t also in dire need of physical affection. if he just sits back and lets you take what you need from him to be comfortable, he isn’t doing anything wrong. right?
“i’ve been so scared, so lonely.” you reason with him as your hands feel around his broad biceps through his tactical gear. the more you discover about him, the more your admiration for him grows. your breathing has turned heavy, the warmth of könig’s body paired with the feeling of having a man so close to you for reasons that aren’t to hurt you, has your cunt aching between your thighs. you’re so screwed up. “i never thanked you for saving me.”
“it’s my job.” you can hear that he’s effected too, his accent thick and deep and strained underneath his mask. you bite your lip at the sound, your little hips growing a mind of their own as they start to rut against his crotch. the sensation of your sweet heat rubbing snugly against his is enough to lower any inhibitions könig has left. fuck, he hasn’t felt anything like it in so long. “we shouldn’t–”
“it’s your job to take care of me.” hot tears start to well up in your eyes at the mere thought of stopping. you lock your arms together behind könig’s head, clamping your thighs tighter around him so he has no choice but to let you continue. “please, i need this, sir. i know you want it too.”
he could easily fight you back if he wanted to. he’s much bigger, much stronger… but he doesn’t. his hands find your hips, and you make eye contact for the first time since he rescued you, only now his eyelids are heavy with desire. he’s just as desperate as you. you got what you wanted, his full attention on you. he uses his strength to guide your movements until what youre doing can’t be described as anything else but riding his clothed erection, the friction against your sensitive clit all too much for you too quickly.
you grind against him to the point of overstimulation, too fucked-out to decide wether you want to pull him closer or push him away. he ends up deciding for you, though, hugging you until you’re pressed chest to chest, succumbing to desire. you can feel the way his bigger body dwarfs yours as you use each other to get off. tears stain your soft, flushed cheeks as you cum, pushed over the edge by the sounds of his low pants and grunts, his pulsing cock underneath you. warm with the knowledge that you made him feel as good as you. you thanked him properly.
“i’m here, engelchen. ride it out.”
the feeling of you convulsing on his dick is enough to milk könig’s orgasm out of him soon after, dirtying his pants with hot, thick cum. he strokes your head and whispers soothing words in your ear, and it’s not until you’re fast asleep on his lap that the gravity of what he’d done settles in, shame washing over him in waves…
#konig cod#smut#x reader#konig x y/n#konig modern warfare#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig smut#konig x you#konig headcanons#konig x reader#könig smut#könig x reader#könig cod#könig x you#könig x y/n#bella writes⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚
664 notes
·
View notes