#Y/n x solider boy

[fandomtherapy44]

Solider Boy x reader

Summary: The year just turning into 1982 Vaught's Payback being the most talked Superhero group especially Vaught's Golden boy. The elusive handsome player Solider boy. Y/n has always wanted to help people with her powers so when Payback starts interviewing, she has to go. Her whole life is about get shaken up not just by how she thought superheroes were supposed to be but by an arrogant self-absorbed but handsome asshole.

Paring: Solider boy x reader/Enemies to lovers

word count: 1,338

Chapters: 1/?

WARININGS: oh, shit here we go again. Major language, Cancer patient, being mean to Y/n.

I got the divder from

saradika

AN/ Hey everyone so I've been thinking to make this for a while now. Since I love the Boys so much did, I start watching this show for Jensen maybe did I stay for the others yes. I think Payback is so interesting, so this is like a prequel series. I just love the backstory of Payback I hope we get more in this new season. This first chapter we don't meet Ben, but we will soon ;) Hope you enjoy.

Chapter one: Taking the leap

POV (Y/N)

The year being 1982 I was freshly twenty-eight working at fucking Vought burger I mean I was making money not much but still I just thought I would be somewhere else at this age. I was mopping the floors at one am with the smell of cell killing chemicals and the four-hour crust of kid puke up my nose. The old tv in the corner of the ceiling was a plus though because Vaught central channel would replay old Payback movies. Superheroes were my everything when I was a kid especially when I learned I had the very powers that my hero’s had. But my mom never wanted me to use them. 

“Hey Y/n how’s your mom doing?” My friend slash coworker asked me. “Oh well she has a treatment this week but after that I don’t know how I’m going to cover the cost next time.” “I can maybe scrape some money together.” I put my mop down and turned to her. “No no I couldn't ask you to do that you have your own shit to worry about.” “Ok but if there is anything else I can do I will be there.” I smile at her kindness. “I'm counting on it.” Just two more damn hours and I could go home and sleep for three hours and then go to my next job.

“Hey, did you hear about those auditions downtown?” “What auditions?” I asked, not really paying attention trying to get the puke stain out of the tiled floor. “Really you haven't heard that’s surprising of how much you love superheroes, it's the payback auditions.” I nearly slipped on the puke. “What! Are you serious!?” I ran over to her shaking her. “Yes Y/n yes! Now can you stop shaking me? I think my brain is starting to leak.” “Ha yes sorry it’s just that it has literally been my dream since I've learned I have powers.” “So, are you going to go?” That was the question.

The weather today was cold, and it was raining well more like pouring and my broken umbrella was barely holding together. I walked in and said hello to the nurse. Before I walked in the room, I put on the fake smile that I put on every time. “Hey mom.” I went to her bed. “Sweetpea, I didn’t know you were coming today.” She said in a very southern draw one of the many things I loved about her. “I wanted to surprise, especially today.” I looked to the tube in her arm for her treatment.

“So, how’s college?” Right college. “Well, my professor says that he was most impressed by my last paper.” This was all bullshit but if I told her what I was really doing all day she would discharge herself and go home and let God do the work to heal her. Well sadly I couldn't leave it up to God not where she was with her stage. “Now that's my daughter on her way to be on the top and get her dream job.” Dream job now that was a joke.

“Yeah...” I looked at the time and my other job was calling. “Well mom I have to run to class. Do you need anything before I go.” She grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. “I just want to look at my little girl for a minute.” In that minute my heart was racing. “Now sweetie go kick but!” My mother would never curse. She said that if she did that she might as well drink dirt then sweet lemonade. 

On my way to work my umbrella fully went down. Luckily there was an awning, and I ran under it. I looked out and it seemed the whole world was working against me. My mother, my job, my lack of a love life but that was the last thing on my mind. The weather was like my life exploding all at once. I just didn’t know what to do. But I think the world heard me and a gust of wind threw up a flyer in my face but not just any flyer.

“Hi there, can you please step forward and state your name,age,height,weight,Sup name.” I don’t think I have ever sweat so much in my life. “Uh Y/n L/n,28,’-,___’ and I don’t know ha.” I looked down nervously. “You're auditioning for a superhero team and you don’t have a name?” The woman looked at me in disbelief. “I-” She holds up her hand to stop me. “You know what I don’t have time to hold your fucking hand like in kindergarten just show us your powers.”

I took that in stride and stood back. I breathed in deeply and used my whole body to push forward and a force came out that crumbled all the practice dummies. I also grabbed the air around me and made a blade. Then I made a shield from that same air. I looked back and everyone looked shocked. The woman from before stacked her papers. “Um thank you we will call you.” I bowed and said thank you.

It had been about a month, and I had heard nothing, so I had lost hope. I was once again cleaning a kid's mess. Parents really need to watch their kids. “Y/n phone call!” My coworker called out and I threw down my rag and dusted off my pants and went to the phone. “Hello” “Hello this Vaught.” My eyes widened and I held my hand over the phone to not hear my escaped squeals. “What are you calling about?” I tried to keep my excitement in.

“Well, the people who are behind payback were very impressed with your audition and would like to invite you to be the newest member of payback.” I did not think twice. “YES!” “I mean yes I would love to.” “Great you will be flown out on the first of next month.” Oh, shit I didn't know it would be that quick. She sensed my quiet. “Will that be a problem?” “No of course not thank you.” She hung up. “Who was that?” My coworker asked. “That was the call telling me that I'm going to be the newest member of Payback.” I said realizing that my whole life changed in five minutes.

It was only the tenth, but I had so much shit to do I had to quit my jobs, stop renting and tell my mom which to be honest I was putting that off. “Hey mom.” “Sweetpea if you keep on surprising me, I'm going to have to start getting pretty for you.” “Mom, you are beautiful everyday no matter what.” “Aww you're just saying that.” “Speaking about our visits, they will have to slow down.” She looked disappointed. “Well, I understand for school.” Here I go. “Mom I'm just going to say it…  you're looking at the newest member of Payback.” “Tell me you're joking.” “No mom I’m not.”

“Y/n you can’t it's too dangerous.” “Mom, I swear to you I will train every day be the safest possible.” “No, I won’t allow it.” “Well sorry I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions. And frankly my fast-food jobs are not cutting it for the bills.” “Fast food? What about college?” “I couldn't do both make money and do school.” “So, you've been lying this whole time.” “I’m sorry mom but it was between me, and you and I chose you.” She had hot tears welling up. “But with this job I can pay for everything and more.” “You'll call me every day?” I threw myself in her arms like I was a little girl again. “Everyday.”

I get on the plane, and I sit down. My whole life was about to change. I was going to go from nobody to where I have permission to punch strangers. But I was ready for whatever or whoever will be there. 

[saintgoths]

ᴛᴇᴇᴛʜ

ᴀʀᴛʜᴜʀ ᴍᴏʀɢᴀɴ, ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ, ʟᴇᴏɴ ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏʟɪᴅᴇʀ ʙᴏʏ.

ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛᴇᴇᴛʜ ʙʏ xxxᴛᴇɴᴛᴀᴄɪᴏɴ; "ʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ."

jealous men hearing that their ex is in a new relationship.

P!LINKS!

wasnt read over

ARTHUR MORGAN

You had gasped, your partner had been in the next room, had been asleep, in thought that you had been taking care of yourself in the baths or feeding your horse. If your partner had known you had been in the room next to his being fucked by Arthur Morgan, he’d prepare to have the town chase him out.

You had tried to keep your moans low, face against the pillow as you bit against the fabric, your body had been tense, cunt tight around his as he easily slipped and pushed himself inside of you. His thick fingers dug into your hips as he held you close against him, one had travelled to the locks of your hair and gripped tight as he dug deeper, the girth of his cock stroking the soft and sensitive cores of your pussy as it dribbled with its nectar, you were so close, so fucking close and he knew.

The twitches and whimpering, the weakening of your body as it slumped, allowing Arthur to take control of your body.

“Come on baby girl,” he grunted, the skin of his slapped against yours, his other hand pulled away from your hip to smack your ass, and you flinched, the tight motion had your heat pulse. You had gritted your teeth as you could feel cold tears slip down your cheeks, you couldn’t do it anymore, you couldn’t hold it in. “Moan for me,” he encouraged and you did, you had cried out his name while your body tingled ready to peak.

“Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!” You had repeated as your ambrosia coated his, the movement of his hips appeared to slow down, and he pulled out, in response you had whimpered to the loss of fullness, but had pressed your chin against the bed, relieved as the hot ropes of his cum slipped against your back.

Softly, Arthur leaned against you, his wetness he released on your back stuck against his chest, but he didn’t care. He moved his lips against your ear and then gave your neck a quick kiss. “Get yourself cleaned up, you don’t want him to see you like this, don’t you?”

REFERENCE ONE

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY

Your eyes watered, you don’t know how long you’ve been on your knees, but all you could do was stare up at him. He was so thick, but the number of times he had used your pretty lips had help you get use to your size, his hand was dug into the strands of your hair, your locks messy as your saliva slid around his cock and spilled out of your mouth.

He had pushed your head so down you had fought to not gag. He wasn’t always so rough with you, but seeing you be touched by a man that’s not him---he thought he’d be able to control himself, but he couldn’t. When Prince invited you to his home party, he had thought you’d be alone, there was whispers from both Soap and Gaz that you were with someone else, but Ghost had been to adamant to believe it.

He didn’t think you’d move on so quick, but you did.

“Take it,” Ghost gritted, his voice cloaking over the music that played outside of the small room he had pulled you into. You had hoped your make-up wasn’t smudged, but Ghost had been reckless, shoving his hips forwards and holding your face like you were a fuck-doll. “Take it princess, I know you can,” he encouraged, he had been teasing you throughout this, making fun of how small your current lover must be for you to be gagging around his dick.

“Good girl,” he patted once he allowed you to move your head away, you took in a deep breath, thumb gently shadowed the tip of his cock which had twitched after your touch. You weren’t finished, so you licked his head and listened to the way he moaned, the song of his cries made you so wet, and with your eyes closed you continued to lick and suck, to please him and have him cum down your throat.

“Good girl, good girl,” he repeated with his eyes closed, his body shivered and that’s when you knew he was close. He continued to call you his pet names, his mind empty as his cum milked down your throat. He had tugged his lips behind his teeth as he fucked your throat a few times, and when he was done, he released a relieved laugh.

You who had once swallowed his cum wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as Ghost did a motion with his finger. “Take off your panties and sit on my lap,” he ordered, and like the obedient doll you was, you brought yourself to your feet and sat on him.

REFERENCE ONE

LEON KENNEDY

Leon rarely liked to say he was a jealous person, if someone pointed it out, he’d dismiss it with a “it was nothing”, but this time, perhaps he was already in a bad mood. Seeing you at the bar the two of you had first met, and seeing you talk to another person who has no information on.

That time he didn’t know if you knew he was there, but he had waited, had waited until the person you were with had left to get drinks to come to you. The talk the two of you had was short, but all you know that what he had said, had caused the two of you to be in a stall, hand over your mouth as he fucked you.

Leon was barely a person who made noise, but he had missed you, and so did his dick.

Your back was against his chest, ass leaned against the hardness of his balls as he used you. One hand slipped under your shirt and the other hand having two of his fingers in your mouth. You had moaned, eyes wet as you attempted to keep yourself down.

“Right there!” You moaned around his fingers, you had sucked them, licked them as if it was his cock filling your mouth. You had yearned for his taste, talking to other men couldn’t cover what Leon could give you. While he had grunted in your ear, you had moved your hand towards your swollen clit, eyes rolled to the back of your head, you felt your legs shake, you were so close, your body hot as you had then moved on your own, bounced on his cock as if he were your own play-thing.

Relieved, he had leaned himself back, he knew you got like this when you were about to cum. So dominant and controlling. “Right there Leon!” You whined as a sharp pleasure pushed through your body, your fluids began to squirt against the floor, mixing with his as he leaked himself inside of you, he had eventually pulled his digits away from your lips and slumped against the stall door just as he pulled himself out of you.

“I have to go now,” you whispered and Leon looked at you, speechless, but you know he had so much to say, so, you kissed him. “Message me,” you said as you pulled on your clothes and left the stalls.

REFERENCE ONE

SOLIDER BOY

You thought Solider Boy was dead, so within this life of erratic circumstances occurring, having Ben’s face between your thighs was the last thing you had expected to happen.

You don’t know how long he has been on his knees, and you had lost the number of times he had made you cum, but whenever you’d move after you’d finish, he’d hold you down and use his tongue. Your pussy throbbed, eyes blurry, the capability to think or even remember your name had vanished.

You felt the texture of his tongue swirl around your clit again, and you cried out again, fingers locked around his hair as he took you in. He had looked at you, with those gorgeous green eyes of his, a smirk on his face as he watched the way you had jerked and shudder under his touch. His beard coated with your juices, Ben went deeper with his tongue, fucking you with it having you hold onto the thin lining of sanity you had left.

You were so glad the boys were gone, if Butcher had saw what you had been up to, he’d never let you hear the end of it. You had become close with him, and Ben didn’t like it. Didn’t like the lingering stares the two of you shared with each other and the soft touches, it drove him insane. He knew he couldn’t voice it, show his care, his weak-spot so quickly, so when you were assigned to look over him when the squad was gone, was when the door of Solider Boy’s arrogance opened.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” You cried in pleasure as you could feel yourself cum again, you had dropped against the table the moment he eventually pulled himself away from you. You had panted over and over again, aware of the noises of the zip of his trousers had been undone, you had looked up at him in question.

“The feeling of your tight little pussy around my tongue got me hot,” he smiled as he then pulled you to stand up. “You thought we were finished?” He teasingly questioned, quickly, he had brought one leg over his shoulder, eyes bore down into your as he levelled his cock against your opening.

“I missed you,” he muttered against your lips, and before you could say anything to him, he had kissed you, rough and deep as if he had wanted to consume you. “You thought,” he kissed as he slid himself inside of you, and as kickback as moan from the back of your throat slipped out. “That I wouldn’t be able to tell baby?”

With doe eyes, you had looked at him, breathless to speak. “That I wouldn’t be able to tell he fucks you? Huh?” He rambled, his next words more obsessive and intense than the last. You couldn’t help but feel your cunt throb at the sound of his possessiveness. He was the biggest you had, and he knew how to use it.

You could feel the curve of his cock slip and lick the sensitive texture of your pussy, so you had bit your lip, your heat sensitive from the previous climaxes, your area had begun to throb around him. Your cunt tight as he continued to break through you, reaching deeper than no one else had, and you had whined. Whined at his roughness, his size and his dirty words. “No one fucks you like I do,” he continued, his obsessive rants hot against your ear as he continued to fuck you like the beast he was.

“Fuck!” He growled as he continued to jerk his cock inside of you, he had looked into the ceiling, his movements faster as his shaft throbbed inside of you, his hotness spilling inside of you, filling you up and painting your walls white with his cum, his last pushes aggressive as he encouraged you to release around him, arrogant that he had marked you as his again, Ben held you tight against him, petted kisses against the sharpness of your jaw once the both of you had finished.

REFERENCE ONE

REFERENCE TWO

REFERENCE THREE

REFERENCE FOUR

masterlist

song the post was based on

[marksbear2]

Hey, i didnt know you were back, your writinf is one of my favs!!!!!

Can i request soldier boy x top male reader smut headcanons? Please

Hey and yes I absolutely love Soldier boy so I’m happy to write this. It’ll be no problem.

SOLDIER BOY X TOP MALE READER

⚠️Warnings- degrading kink, lowkey a power bottom Ben, rough, face fuck, blowjobs, edging, multiple rounds. Freaky headcanons. ⚠️

— He gave you a dirty look when you first suggested finally having sex. Even more when you told him that he’s gonna be the one getting fucked.

— He squirms and move around a lot whenever your peppering him with his finger. 

— He won’t like having to prep and stretch himself. Always bring up how girls and how their pussies work and how it’ll be faster and feel better.

— He tries not to moan loud or make any noise of pleasure since he so called “Doesn’t like it.” 

— The first time you two were about to do it after prepping he tapped out, he couldn’t imagine having another man’s dick in his ass. So right when things were getting hot and heavy he tapped out and left.

— After the next few times you got him and got inside of him before he could tap out. He’d let out deep groans and squeeze his teeth together.

— He’s pretty vulgar, while other men would be moaning or whining. Solider boy would the type of man to taunt and insult you. “Is that the best you got?” “I fuck people better then is.” He’s pretty degrading and gets off on that when seeing you even more upset.

— He’s into jerking off together, he’d jerk off your cock while whisper the most mean and rude words in your ear before a small bit of praise.

— He’s not too big of being over affectionate during sex. He sees sex as sex and not some damn romantic night with your love one.

— Loves it when you grunt or whisper into his ear. Doesn’t matter what your saying how loud your groaning in his ear. He fucking loves it.

— He also loves surprises, waking up with a dick thrusting in and out of him would put him in a great mood for the rest of the day. 

— He likes the feeling of your mouth searching for his tongue and while you two makeout your fucking hard into him.

— His favorite position is missionary or any position when he can see your face in it. He’d be the type of guy to have immense eye contact without breaking or moving away while you fuck him. 

— He wants your eyes to be locked while he degrades and praise you.

— He’d be bad at giving head first but when he gets into the rhythm and knows a thing or two his mouth would be busy with your cock all day.

— Titty fucking with him, he would press his chest together while your cock moving in between his chest. 

— He always make it his goal to make you cum faster than the last type in his mouth. He can suppress his gag reflex pretty well so while you face fuck him he would stare up at your eyes not breaking eye contact for a second.

— He wants your cum on his face, he suck and your dick to the point that your getting all sensitive while he’s just eager to have your cum on his face.

— He wants it rough all night long. He doesn’t care for gentle shit. Sometimes he’ll treat you like is own personal human dildo.

— Very into edging, one of his biggest kinks.

— Once he cums a few times he’d make you pull out and he’ll go about his day as if he didn’t leave you with a hard uncummed cock.

— He let out the sharpest gasp when the first time your dick hit his prostate. He would stare down at your hips watching you fuck him as he let out heavy moans and breaths.

— Always threatened you when your close to cumming, he doesn’t want you to cum anywhere inside of him.

— But one day when it was to late to pull out and you came deep inside him. His legs immediately tensed as his head went back. His foreign from the feeling of cum inside him.

— You kept fucking him thrusting though he was full of cum. 

— Eventually it’d be his favorite thing. He wants your cum inside of him though sometimes he acts like he doesn’t. 

— Whenever you pull out he’ll stare at the cum leaking out of his hole and down onto the sheets. It’ll be hot for him so he’s turned l again ready for the next round.

— He wants you to be rough with him no limits. Choke him or manhandle him do whatever he fucking loves it all.

— He’s inpatient, sometimes he doesn’t want to wait until you guys are in the bedroom or anything. So there’s numerous times that you guys end up fucking on the living or hallway floor of the house and sometimes on the table. 

— He has stamina for HOURS and he’s needy. He’d would be focus on his pleasure then get to yours after a few rounds. 

— No matter how good you fuck him, he’ll still be an asshole, but if he actually hurt your feelings he’ll cheer you up by letting you fuck his throat.

The end

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Fourteen: Soldier Boy + Voyeurism

Ben has had his eyes on a new toy to add to your playtime. He thinks he's found it when the two of you venture down to a club one night.

She’s beautiful, and Ben can see it in the way you watch her dance around the silver pole. You lick your lips as you watch her twirl around. Thick thighs, the pudge over the edge of the thigh high stocking she's wearing. Her face covered in bright almost glow in the dark make-up. Thick red lips that draw everyones attention.

The girl who was dancing around that shiny silver pole now has her face between you opened thighs. Lapping at your cunt with ease as she kicks her feet back and forth laying on her stomach.

You can see Ben from the corner of your eye. His devilish smile as he rubs the palm of his hand over his hard cock in his boxers. How the three of you managed to make it back to your shared apartment doesn't really matter.

All that matters now is the way this girl whos name you have forgetten is licking at your cunt. "Fuck!, Don't stop!" You mutter, you moans breathy as your hands search for her hair to tug onto.

She hums into your cunt, sucking at your clit. You lift your head as you look up towards your boyfriend. Bens cock is now out of its boxers.

The head of his cock is red and angry. A drop of pre-cum beading at the head. His hand bobs with ease as he rubs his angry cock. Legs opened wide as he tries to keep his breathing steady.

Your eyes shift back to the girl between your legs, when her tongue drifts down to your leaking hole. And when she sticks her tongue in you can't help but moan at the sensation. Her nose hitting your sensative clit as she thursts her tongue into your cunt.

Then you hear Ben from the corner of the room. "Fuck yeah, darling. She loves when you fuck her good with your tongue. She's such a sensative little thing." Your moans are falling from your lips and your hands squeeze the hairs of the girl bettwen your legs.

Your orgasm is close you can feel the way your stoamch aches, the way your legs shake with anticpation, and finally the way your toes are curling. "FUCK! I'm gonna…" Your voice goes out with a shirek. Your legs squeeze the womens head between your thighs as continues to assult your cunt.

"Fuck I don't like sharing, but you two are fucking beautiful." You hear Ben as the floor creaks and when you open your eyes you see him standing behind the women. Cock red, hot and angry wanting to fuck something. He grabs the women by the hips flipping her so she's on her back. Head resting between your thighs.

Her legs open wide allowing for the large stance that Ben has to slot in. "Fuck makin' a goddamn mess on my nice fucking sheets darling." Your lift yourself up onto your elbows, seeing the way the girl takes in Ben large cock now standing at attention.

"You're gonna fuck her and now me Ben?" You complain. "Listen babygirl. I'll fuck you in just a moment, don't be a brat." He mutters as he enters the womens cunt. The sounds bounce around the room, skin slapping wet noises that have your biting at your bottom lip.

You don't like not being apart of the fun. So you pull yourself up, reaching for Ben lips as your hover your cunt over the women face. You may be senstive but you want to kiss your boyfriend. One hand on the women hip and the other on your cheek as your kiss takes the life from you, and when you feel the womens hands on both your hips and the cold tongue back lapping at your leaking cunt.

Well everything just feels right. You moan into Bens kiss as his hand comes around your throat. "Fuck you taste so good." The women mutters into your cunt. "Such a brat, can't let me just have a good fuck without wanting a part of the girl too." Ben says quietly into your kiss. You moan and nod your head. "Don't forget Ben I'm your brat."

Completed on: 10/13/24

Posted on: 10/19/24 (10/14/24)

Kinktober 24'-

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Mjolnir’s Masterlist

🐻=fluff 🔪=angst 💚=smut 18+ ✔️=finished

Bucky Barnes

• Love In The Dark 🔪✔️

• Texture 💚✔️

• Scared 🔪💚✔️

• Silver Bullet 🔪💚

-Pt. One

• You’re The Reason I Smoke 🔪✔️

-Pt. One, Two

• Trying To Derail My One Track Mind 🔪💚✔️

-Pt. One, Two

• Just Another Notch 🐻🔪💚

-Pt. One, Two, Three, Four, Five

• Haunted 🐻🔪

-Pt. One, Two, Three, Four, Five

• Christmas Countdown Request 🐻✔️

• It Was Never Gonna Happen, Doll | X-Men Au 🐻🔪💚 (coming soon)

Natasha Romanoff

• Executioner | Renaissance AU 💚✔️

Yelena Belova

• Pickpocket 🐻✔️

Clint Barton

• Christmas Countdown Request 🐻✔️

Logan Howelett

• It Was Never Gonna Happen, Doll 🐻🔪💚 (coming soon)

Multicharacter

• I Know You Liked It Steve/Loki🔪💚 ✔️

• Not My Type Part 2 Bucky/Steve 🔪✔️

• Video Games Bucky/Steve 🔪💚

• The Neon Martini Wanda/Nat 🐻🔪💚

Rafe Cameron

• Home 🔪💚

- Pt. One

Aegon Targaryen II

• Aegon’s Shadow 🐻🔪 (on hold)

-Ch. One, Two, Three, Four

Daemon Targaryen

• Christmas Countdown Request 🔪✔️

• Christmas Countdown Request 🐻 ✔️

Homelander

• Super Hearing ✔️

[tonixe]

THE BOYS

Valentine’sDayDrabbles/Headcanons. - Homelander, Soldier Boy, Black Noir

MySolider - Soldier boy x reader

Morality- Homelander x reader

Myprerogative- Homelander x reader

Myprerogative pt2 - Homelander x reader

“Christmas Magic" - Homelander x reader

Dolor - Black Noir x reader

Country girl - firecracker x reader

[eclecticqueennerd]

Why Me?

Soldier Boy x reader

*language, mentions of smex, self-doubt/ insecure reader. fluff, comfort*

Anyone can see that Ben is a very attractive man and could easily bag any woman he wants. He’s told you about his past with hot celebrities and other supes, how good of a fuck they were. Which made you question, why did he choose you? You try to not dwell on it, however, that question still lingers in the back of your mind most days. It isn’t until one day Ben comes home early from a mission and finds you on the couch crying.

“What’s wrong doll?” Ben sits down next to you. You turn to him and ask why he’s with you.

“There are other attractive women in the world why the hell would you choose someone like me? I’m nothing like them.” Ben seems taken back by your question. After a few moments to silence, Ben speaks,

“You think I give two shits about those broads? They’re just looking for a quick fuck but once they realize how fucked up I am they’ll get the hell outta dodge. You stayed with me after finding out all the shit I’ve done. You patched me up after fights and you brought me back to earth when I was about to go nuclear. My father, teachers, bosses, they all treated me like shit, said I wouldn’t amount to nothin. Thought I had a sure thing with the Countess, but she was only using me. You were the only one who believed that I could do something good and that I was worth somethin. You made me feel like I matter and not some pawn in somebody’s fucked up game. You saved me from myself. You showed me all this through your kindness, understanding, and patience. You say you’re nothin like those other women? You’re right, you’re not. You’re better. You may not look like them, but fucking hell are you one dynamite gal, inside and out. So, I don’t wanna hear you talk like that again, you hear me?”

You nod your head in agreement, tears streaming down your face at Ben’s declaration. Ben lets out a sigh and reaches to pull you into his lap.

“I know I’m not an emotional guy, it’s just how I was raised. I just want you to know that I love you and will always love you. You mean the world to me y/n, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this sooner.” Ben whispers into the shell of your ear. You look at him and he returns your gaze. His eyes, filled with so much love and vulnerability, only reserved for you. “Now come on, let me show you how much I love you.” Ben then lifts you up and takes you into the bedroom.

*credit for the prompt goes to @randalourita who has a great list of prompts for drabbles. Thank you!

[ketchupjasmin]

Hiiii, I know I haven't been posting that much on Tumblr but I just wanna say Happy Valentines day to every Soldier Boy fangirls out there :)) :3

[fandomtherapy44]

YOU GUYS ITS HAPPENING!

I’ve always said that payback seemed way more interesting than the seven! And we’re about get so much more solider boy! Thank God for Jensen Ackles! 💜

[uncasualfangirl]

Happy birthday my boy 🥰❤️

[pickledpascal]

Killer Queen

Chapter Three: Sweet Emotion

Warnings: smut for sure brother, penetrative sex, collars, BDSM elements, slurs, ben likes it rough i guess

Word Count: 3.8k

Killer Queen Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Eventually, Eden was able to coax Amber and Soldier Boy out of their room to have something for dinner. Well, she mostly wanted to get Amber to eat, Soldier Boy was… a change, that's for sure. Something about him when Eden was in school or, hell, even when she grew up, she thought he'd be shorter. The boots had to give him an extra inch or two so they lied about his height. But they didn't. Soldier Boy was a six-foot-two all-American man. Eden always thought he'd be five-eight. 

Amber grabbed a few slices of the pizza Eden provided and stuffed a piece in her mouth. On the other hand, Eden kept staring at Soldier Boy. Nervous wasn't the right word, no, more like she was sizing him up. She knew she likely couldn't take him in a fight, even if she was a Supe, but she would probably be able to do something that made him suffer. 

“Who's that?” Ryan said when he came out of his room. He was looking up at Soldier Boy. Butcher was one of the only other men who had ever entered the house.

Soldier Boy glanced down at the kid and narrowed his eyes a bit. Why the hell did he look so much like him? He kept his mouth shut, opting to follow Amber's rules. For now. So he ate. 

Eden answered, “He's gonna be staying with us for a little while, kiddo. He's, uh,” She didn't want to lie. Ryan was a smart kid and he'd likely figure out why he was here in the long run but she also didn't want to say Soldier Boy was going to kill his dad. “He's one of Amber's special friends.” 

“Oh.” Ryan recoiled at the comment. 

Soldier Boy cocked an eyebrow at Amber. “He doesn't know what a f–”

“Shut the hell up.” Amber cut him off, gaze hardening. 

Once dinner was done and Ryan was away from Soldier Boy—Eden immediately decided they couldn't be together for more than fifteen minutes since Ryan would likely learn something he wasn't supposed to at ten. 

“So who the fuck are you?” Soldier Boy turned to Eden, lips pursed into a thin line that showed his dimples. A sign he was discontented. 

Eden looked at him unimpressed. “The smartest person in any room.” She shrugged. She liked to brag as humbly as possible. She wished Amber would do it more or else people wouldn't test her as much as they did. 

Soldier Boy scoffed, “You're a woman.” 

“And you don't know what an OnlyFans is so who's really winning here?” Eden countered with a lop-sided smile.

Soldier Boy tilted his head, glancing at Amber for an answer. She didn't give him one. 

“Do you think if we can get Homelander, Butcher will let us psychologically torture him? We’ll let him kill him afterward. Or, we could all bitch him together.” Eden suggested, an excited glint in her eyes before she glanced back at Soldier Boy. “Sorry your son turned into such a fucking bitch, by the way–”

Soldier Boy’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what the fuck does she mean?” He'd seen pictures of Homelander, pictures of him were plastered almost everywhere.

Amber glared at Eden. She was glad Ryan wasn't here for this. Especially considering his grandpa had quite the mouth on him. 

She and Eden knew of this after Eden hacked into Vought. Partly for fun, partly for work. They just so happened to come across a file about Homelander and his origins. And how Soldier Boy, by artificial insemination, was his father. Immediately after finding out the information, Eden blamed that on why Homelander was so horrible. Amber didn't know all of the details of Soldier Boy’s life but she didn't think that was the case. The file also included all the American propaganda Homelander was forced to watch as a child. 

A boy who grew up only watching American propaganda was going to fuck him up somehow. 

“You remember when Vougelbaum called you into your lab? It was 1980. Some sort of genetic test,” Recognition dawned in Soldier Boy’s face as he leaned back into the couch he sat on. “He was born in 1981. And part of the reason Payback did what they did. So he could take the spotlight once he was older.” Amber explained softly. She had a feeling it would be jarring for anyone to find out they had a secret child, no matter if they were a fascist piece of shit. 

Soldier Boy’s lips drew back into a snarl as he tried to choke down his emotions. Amber, he was fine with crying in front of, but Eden? Fuck that. He didn't need other people to know he was weak. 

He had a son. A fucking child. And he wasn't there like he wished he would. Anger rose in his chest. Soldier Boy abruptly stood and Amber could feel the air in the room shifting. She didn't have a radiation counter on her but she could tell, if she did, it would be skyrocketing. 

Amber lifted a hand to try and calm Soldier Boy which he slapped away. “Shut the fuck up and don't say you understand. You fucking don't. You don't even have the fucking parts to have a kid, you tranny bitch.” He spat, chest heaving. 

Eden's eyes widened, looking between the two of them. Even most bigot fucks Amber came across, they didn't say it to her face. Amber's stare turned cold. Any sympathy she had for him was flushed down the drain. 

“Yeah, uh… I'm gonna take Ryan downstairs.” Eden excused herself. The basement was soundproof for the most part. And built like a fortress. She was glad she decided to make it out of metal. Sound didn't travel that well through it. 

Soldier Boy let out a sharp breath from his nose as he stared at Amber. There was a small part of him that regretted what he said but he was too prideful to go back on it. A muscle in his jaw tightened while his nose turned into a sneer. 

Amber wasn't intimidated by whatever tactics Soldier Boy was trying to use. “You think you're strong? That you scare me? Not more than an hour ago you were gagging on my dick. Some small part—or, hell, big part—of you is scared you like me,” The air in the room was tense, the radiation rising when she hit a little too close to home. “But another part,” She stepped closer, causing Soldier Boy to step away. “Is excited by that. You're not the most powerful in the room anymore. Maybe that way you'll be a little normal for once.” 

“Fuck you, you don't know shit about me.” Soldier Boy’s shoulders were rigid as he tried to stand his ground. 

Amber cocked a doubtful eyebrow at him, a smirk on her lips. “Uh-huh. I know for the past few seconds, your eyes have been on my dick,” Soldier Boy’s lip quivered with his anger but he made no move to deny it. “What Eden failed to mention is that Ryan is your grandson.”

Blinking, Soldier Boy's shoulders slumped. His jaw unclenched as he drew in a sharp breath. “He's—”

“Homelander’s son. The reason why he's here. Homelander wants to make Ryan like him,” Amber explained softly. Maybe she did have a little bit of sympathy for Ben. A shred. But it could easily be snuffed out and replaced with that white-hot feeling from earlier. “This could be your chance to be a father like you wanted. And, maybe, he could be better. Not like you or him.”

Soldier Boy dropped onto the couch, frame creaking underneath his weight. His whole world was shattered and put back together again in a matter of a few minutes. How could he have failed Homelander so badly? Hell, he would've let him take the spotlight. What kind of father wouldn't? He bit his cheek. Ryan wasn't his and he never would be. Sure, they were related but it was different. He'd know it would be different. 

But Ryan was so young. A whole life ahead of him. Soldier Boy pushed his hands through his hair, tears stung the edges of his eyes. He wanted kids. For selfish reasons. As a big fuck you to his father that he could do better than him. 

“Does he know?” Soldier Boy looked up at Amber, hands falling in his lap.

Amber shook her head. “No. I mean, Ryan knows who his father is. Not that you're his grandpa. And Homelander, as far as I know, doesn't know about you.” She sat next to him. 

“God fucking hell.” Soldier Boy sighed. Why did this feel a hell of a lot more messed up than anything he'd ever done before? He'd be stealing his son’s son away from him. Perhaps for good reason. “You–You’re—” A part of him really wanted to yell at Amber, accuse her of turning him against his own kin, but he had a feeling Homelander committed far worse atrocities than he did. At an even larger scale. 

Soldier Boy ran a hand down his face. “Ryan—he’s a good kid?” He asked after a while. 

“Yeah,” Amber hummed softly. Besides a few times of him slicing open the roof with his laser eyes or hugging Eden a little too tight, it was sunshine and rainbows. Eden was durable enough not to get immediately crushed. “I think he looks a lot more like you than Homelander anyway. Especially with that fucking box-dye. I mean, if you're gonna be the epitome of ‘blonde and blue-eyed,’ at least make sure it looks good before you base your entire personality on it.” 

Soldier Boy let out a small breath. A laugh. Even though he didn't understand half the words that came out of Amber's mouth, he knew the point she was trying to make. Homelander was an artificial fuck. Quite literally. He and Homelander's surrogate never even touched, he just sent his seed to Vougelbaum and never thought about it again. Whoever she was, they would've had a good night if they did it the proper way. Or Soldier Boy would've broken her. 

Amber hooked a finger under Soldier Boy's chin and tilted his head so he looked at her. “You remember that deal we made?” Her eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes. Soldier Boy’s breath hitched. “You called me something bad. Which means…” She intentionally trailed off. 

“Consequences.” Soldier Boy finished for her with dilated pupils. 

Amber winked, “Bingo.” 

After a scramble to get upstairs, Amber's door was locked behind her while she and Soldier Boy were inside her bedroom. He breathed heavily while she appeared calm. Way too calm. It was unsettling. Something about it made Soldier Boy’s pulse hasten. With dread or something else, he wasn't sure he'd want to admit.

“Turn around and strip.” Amber instructed with a smile. 

Soldier Boy wanted to ask why he'd need to turn around but the words were caught in his throat. He complied, taking off his Dodgers jersey and sweatpants along with his boxers. He heard a scraping of a drawer opening and closing. And then a light ding of a bell. He flinched as he felt his neck constricted. Soldier Boy glanced down and caught sight of the small jingle bell on his neck. Connected to a leather collar. 

Avery pressed a kiss to Ben's jaw and hummed as she stood behind him. “On the bed for me, hands and knees.” The way she sounded, it was more of a request. But he knew if he didn't comply, something worse would likely happen. 

Soldier Boy hated the way he so easily followed her order. And he hated it more when Amber pushed his head into the sheets and he liked it. If only his father could see him now. He wondered what he'd say. Probably something worse than what he could come up with. But, then again, that would take a lot more work than what his father wanted to do. 

“Take a deep breath,” Amber advised. Soldier Boy could hear a cap opening and closing. He had an idea as to what it was. “Or don't. You might like it better.” She teased as she pushed her finger inside him without any other warning. 

The muscles in his legs tensed as he moved his head, the bell on his collar ringing as he did. “What the—” Another finger. Soldier Boy was even less prepared than before. “Fuck!” Pain seared inside him. Not overwhelming but a lot more than he thought he'd ever experience in this setting. “What—”

“Shhh,” Amber cooed softly, “Bad boys don't get to speak. Now, I want you to be quiet. Or else something worse might happen.” Soldier Boy couldn't see her face but he could imagine what it looked like. A nice, but unsettling, smile on her face as hooded eyes stared down at him. “Give me a nod that you understand,” She pressed her fingers deeper inside and he had to bite on his bottom lip to keep a noise from escaping him. “C'mon, sweetheart, please?”

Soldier Boy nodded, eyes screwed shut. A satisfied noise left Amber's lips. She curled her slender fingers inside him while his face contorted, trying his best not to let out a strained moan as he gripped the sheets. His whole body tensed when Amber's hand started to move. 

In and out. In and out. In and out. Harder, harder, harder. He wanted to scream. Yell. Maybe kick a door in. He wanted to do something. But this power Amber had over him made him have second thoughts. The way she made him feel. Like he was a teenager again. Powerless. Soldier Boy had lived so long that he forgot what it was like. A life that was mostly filled with drugs, women, and alcohol to ease some sort of pain he didn't want to acknowledge. But Amber fucked it out of him. Somehow. 

So Soldier Boy stayed quiet. Like she asked—no, demanded—him to. And then there was that bell. It rang with each push. He felt like it was too much. The noises, the sensations, the fact that he couldn't let the tension in him release in some way. But it also wasn't enough. He wanted more. Needed more. That gnat inside him was going insane. He needed to feel sore the next morning, needed to be reminded of what happened, needed to follow her rules.

“That’s a good boy,” Soldier Boy could hear pants being unzipped. He drew in a sharp breath. “Only good boys get to be fucked by my cock. Do you think you deserve that?” Amber's voice was smooth and sweet, like honey, but grounded and strong. He couldn't get enough of it. “Use your words.” Her movements stopped so he could form more coherent words. 

“Please.” Soldier Boy panted softly, finally easing some of the tension built in his shoulders and arms. 

Amber tsked. “I can't hear you, sweetheart. Louder,” She thrusted her fingers in suddenly, eliciting a sudden, choked whine from Soldier Boy. And another ring of the bell. “Like that.” 

“God, please! Please! Amber, I-I need you so much.” He whined, pleading with every ounce of want in his body. His knuckles were white as they fisted the sheets. Soldier Boy was painfully aware that he tore them—he was so close—Amber would have half a mind to stop and think of something worse to put him through. “Like—fuck! Like nothing else I've ever needed in my life.” The words jumbled out of him faster than he could think. 

The air stilled. For just a moment. 

He was surprised at himself for admitting such a thing. Was meeting Amber really all it took for his walls to start crumbling? Not completely, but enough. To the point where maybe falling in love again wasn't so hard for him. 

Amber slid a hand up Soldier Boy’s side and let out a hum. “Really?” Her voice was amused. “Get on your back for me, then.” 

Quickly, Soldier Boy turned on the bed. His knees were bent in front of him. He was happy to finally be able to see her face. And appreciate her body. Amber was stripped back down to her underwear. Well, minus her actual underwear. Her bra was still on but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Amber pushed his legs apart and looked down at him. 

The view of Soldier Boy below her made her feel accomplished. Prideful somehow. Amber did always like the idea of a man begging for her. And this man just so happened to be a really powerful one. Yeah, that was gratifying. 

“I want you to promise me something,” Amber began with a light, intentionally, sweet smile as she pushed inside him. Soldier Boy's jaw dropped open. He felt like he was being split down the middle. “Don't say anything like tranny or fag or, hell, even pussy again to me or anyone else. Okay?” Her smile dropped from her lips, eyes glaring down at him. 

The bell on his collar rang frantically as he nodded, eyebrows furrowed with pleasure. 

Amber lifted Soldier Boy’s calf over her shoulder as she leaned over him, admiring the way he looked in the black leather collar as she pushed her pelvis into the flesh of his ass. His chest shook as he took in a sharp breath. 

“Please—please move!” Soldier Boy begged softly, lifting a hand to Amber's neck to gingerly caress underneath the curve of her jaw. He wanted to sob with need. He was way too close to having his fortress be completely and utterly destroyed. And he didn't want to stop it. 

A wicked smile graced Amber's lips. A twinge of desire churned in his stomach. “A little more, sweetheart, I like this.” She admitted as she jerked her hips. 

That goddamned bell chimed again.

Soldier Boy choked on a whimper. “Baby, fuck—I need you to move! Please.” His brain was buzzing louder and louder as time went on but he was still very much conscious and hadn't turned Amber into dust—not that he'd be able to do that in the first place. 

“Hmm. Okay.” Amber relented. Only slightly. 

Her immediate pace was hard and fast and Soldier Boy panted heavily, a whine or whimper at the end of every single noise he made. The bell rang with each movement, swinging softly. He pushed his head back onto the bed as his whole body tensed up. His muscles ached while his mind reeled with delight.

Soldier Boy had never felt anything like this before. Pure ecstasy. Better than the drug. Any drug for that matter. His ass was starting to get sore with each thrust but he couldn't have cared less. The ache made it all the more worth it. Hell, even the sound of her skin pounding into his made his mind whir like an old computer. 

“Your sounds,” Avery panted into his ear. “They’re fucking beautiful.” She attached her lips to Soldier Boy’s jaw, nipping at the skin. She wanted to do this more often. 

And judging by Soldier Boy’s sounds, he'd like that too.

“Ah, fuck!” Soldier Boy’s free hand gripped at Amber's waist, digging his nails into her skin. “Baby–Baby, shit—I can't—I can't—” He sobbed. He couldn't hold on anymore. All the touching and feeling and everything was rising and rising. A part of him was surprised he lasted this long. Especially with the finger-fucking he went through earlier. 

Avery flipped the bell around Soldier Boy’s neck as she sucked a mark above it. A helpless whimper escaped his lips. 

“Be a doll and hold it in,” Avery ground out, giving Soldier Boy a particularly hard thrust. He drew in a sharp breath which morphed into a whine. “You'll do that for me?” 

Soldier Boy whimpered, “Uh-huh.” He was so drunk on feeling that he couldn't stop himself from obeying her. But it got harder and harder with each snap of her hips. “Shit–” He breathed as the muscles in his legs started to twitch. 

“You're almost there,” Compared to the almost carnal way Amber was fucking into him, the way her lips pressed against his skin was soft, gentle, and felt strangely more sensual than everything else. “I can feel it, sweetheart. So am I. Just—” Amber grunted lowly into Soldier Boy’s ear. “Just hold on. A little more.” Her voice was strained.

That's when Soldier Boy had a moment of clarity. Amber was going to cum. Inside him. A shiver of delight ran throughout his body. 

After a few more deep pushes, Amber let out a harbored sigh. The tightness in her stomach broke and Soldier Boy cried out as he felt her paint his insides. Not more than a few seconds later, as Amber slowed her hips, he came as well. Drops of white landed on both of their stomachs. 

Soldier Boy had to resist the urge to actually cry. He had never felt more thoroughly satisfied in his life. 

“Oh, my sweet boy,” Amber cupped his face, tilting it so he would look her in the eyes. “You like this, hm? Me inside you? You'd like it if it was like this all the time, wouldn't you?” She teased softly. 

The man underneath her loved the weight of her inside him. Maybe he secretly wished she would split him in half. He nodded silently, his face red as he felt a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck. Soldier Boy didn't sweat. Not in a long time. 

Amber caressed the side of his face and smiled down at him. “I could arrange that.” She hummed. “But,” She pulled his leg from her shoulder and let it fall. “We have things to do tomorrow.” Her cock slipped from him and he immediately felt empty. 

He pursed his lips, a crease between his eyebrows when he let out a whine from the loss of her touch. He could barely speak after feeling something so intense. Amber went to the bathroom connected to her room to grab a towel and cleaned him up. Soldier Boy’s whole body was sore but his ass was where he felt it the most. 

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Amber sighed, running a hand through his hair which he gladly leaned into. “Don't be like that.” She sighed as she picked up her underwear to put it back on to, at the very least, have something to cover herself in bed. Amber didn't like being naked underneath covers. It just felt wrong. 

After some coaxing, Amber was able to get Soldier Boy to put his boxers back on himself and lay in bed correctly. However, he immediately clung to her like a vice once they were both in her bed. He buried his face into her neck while an arm rested over her stomach. Amber hadn't bothered to take the collar off his neck and Soldier Boy didn't mention it. He liked how it felt. A symbol of her ownership over him. 

That little bell stopped ringing. And so did his head. 

-----

A/N: I JUST WANTED TO SAY THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT ON THIS FIC !!! i never thought so many other people would want to read about soldier boy getting dicked down but here we are !!! 🫶

taglist: @aleemendoza2425-blog

taglist open here !!

[thebiggerbear]

😭😭

This was beyond perfect. This part especially had my heart going 🥹:

It was not easy for someone like him to stay faithful to his partner. He rarely recognised commitment before he met her, and being surrounded by blatant temptations all the time didn't make things any better. He could have anyone at any time, ladies would eagerly kneel and suck him off without a question if he wanted them to. But he'd be damned if he wasn't in charge of his own self. He'd be damned if he dared to break her heart. He'd be damned if he ruined his family, a family he never thought he'd ever have, for such vagaries.

Exactly. That's exactly how I imagine Ben to be and how he thinks about it when he finally finds a woman he wants to commit to. And when he reassures her, it's beyond heartwarming and so Ben. Love this so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️

→ Home.

gif credit.

pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.

rating: fluff, implied smut.

warning: bens's pov, very soft ben, implied pregnant sex, praising, horny reader, antiquated mentality....

word count: 2.4k

summary: ben's discovering new life affairs while expecting his first baby.

tagging: @zepskies

→ masterlist | ao3

Soldier Boy guzzled down his third raw drink before he decided to call it a day and go home. He took off his supe gear and changed into more casual clothes in the dressing room in his quarters at Vought's tower after he took a quick shower. He shook his head with a sneer when he tugged the shirt above his head, remembering her telling him —bossing him— that he wasn't to come home stinking with blood and cigars and whiskey and Vought. Soldier Boy didn't take shit from anyone, but he found himself helpless against her wishes—orders. He was grinning though, amusedly so. Sometimes he wondered where his obedient and good wife went. He liked that version of her, nonetheless.

Though he liked to think that his baby was igniting her wild spirit, his pretty wife seemed to have gotten quite sensitive to strong scents, and her stomach grew weak ever since he got her pregnant with their first child four months ago. It was chiselled in his mind; the memory of her hoping onto his chest with happy shrieks when he returned from work affirming the news.

He had been sensing the baby's presence for a week thanks to his superhuman senses before that, and he'd told her that night to go check on it with a doctor. They were eagerly trying to have a baby so it was of no surprise, but it still pulled a huge smile on his lips and made pride swell in his chest. He was going to be a father in nine months. The thing he wanted to be the most.

But as it turned out, pregnancy wasn't as magical as his mind fantasised to be. It wasn't all fuzzy and beautiful like he imagined. He cursed the damn commercials for that. Fucking marketing.

The first couple of months were rough. Morning sickness, vomiting, ungodly cravings at ungodly hours, horrendous mood swings, and worst of all; minimum intimacy. She'd become fragile unlike her nature. And she got overly concerned that he might hurt the baby whenever he suggested penetrative sex. Orals were, certainly, out of the equation. It was both frustrating and maddening to say the least. He was a fucking man and had needs. The best he could get was quick and not so enthusiastic handies from time to time when she could provide. Long story short, he was growing blue balls from the ordeal. Fuck, he used to make fun of men who couldn't get laid properly. The irony had such an impact on his ego; his pride of being a fucking man.

It was not easy for someone like him to stay faithful to his partner. He rarely recognised commitment before he met her, and being surrounded by blatant temptations all the time didn't make things any better. He could have anyone at any time, ladies would eagerly kneel and suck him off without a question if he wanted them to. But he'd be damned if he wasn't in charge of his own self. He'd be damned if he dared to break her heart. He'd be damned if he ruined his family, a family he never thought he'd ever have, for such vagaries.

In time, however, pregnancy did prove itself to be the most beautiful of all affairs. Surprisingly so. Whenever he spooned her up hugging her from behind, he found odd tranquillity of hearing hers and the babe's rhythmical heartbeats, or when he caressed her bumping tummy, feeling his child's life forming inside of her body, a creature they both made, lack of sex seemed to be durable and trivial at some point. Something he himself wouldn't believe before. But here he was. His disgust and appal from what pregnancy entailed gradually dissipated and were replaced with zeal and thrill. And most certainly, he enjoyed the changes of her body the most. Ben just loved the way her boobs were swelling up with milk, and the way her stomach was flourishing with his child. Boob massage was something he greatly took pleasure in. Kneading her sore breasts while hearing her moans of relief. He'd come to learn that intimacy could be found in many other things than sex.

Ben noticed he'd come to hating every moment he spent away from them. His temper got much worse, his teammates observed. And he became more aggressive than he already was when fighting crime. The happiest moment of his day was when he dropped the shield and took the helmet off to head home, where his beautiful wife would be eagerly waiting to have dinner with him even though most of the nights he'd come home and find her dozing off on the couch where she'd been waiting for him. He'd carry her to their bedroom and have dinner by himself — he skipped that very often — then slip right behind her on the bed holding her close to his body. The concept of coming back home to someone was so much alluring to him. He felt his life was complete. Real.

Ben arrived at their penthouse, assuming he'd find her soundly sleeping while she stayed awaiting him. He didn't announce his return loudly as he used to do before the pregnancy. He didn't want to wake her up. But much to his surprise — and delight, Ben found the place dimly lit with scented candles, sensuous silence prevailing within the air.

Ben's eyes glimmered, and an instant wolfish grin slipped into his lips when his eyes landed on his wife's figure as she clambered down the stairs. A thin, short gown with a raunchy red colour hugged her frame, its fabric was so thin that he could see her skin glowing through the red. Her breasts were full, putting her cleavage on more display. Whereas the bump of her belly was deliciously visible. Her hair was neatly styled and spruced up and her pretty face was elegantly painted with make-up.

“Welcome home, Ben,” She warbled with a smile, eyes filled with sultry desire as she strolled down to him. He was dazzled by her appearance, he was practically eating her with his eyes. Fuck, pregnancy did make her much prettier. “Hope you didn't have dinner yet 'cause I made you something special tonight.”

Her palm grazed his stubbled cheek. Ben leaned into her touch, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm, a grin gracing his mouth. “'Course I didn't. Why the fuck would I eat outside when I have a capable wife like you at home?”

She giggled gleefully at his statement as he pulled her flush against his body. He eyed her with a hazed gaze. Her mouth was luring him in, deliciously so. He liked that lipstick shade on her lips so much. He couldn't but to give in to the utter temptation. Ben tilted his head down and captured them in a burning kiss. An instant moan escaped her throat as his mouth passionately pressed to hers. Her arms encircled his neck, hands combing through his brown hair. He synced their heads for a better angle, and deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into her warm mouth. His hands brushed her sides then her ass.

He broke the kiss momentarily and she gasped vehemently. He could hear the rapid pace of her heart and the gushing blood through her vein, pooling down in her groin. He crushed her lips again, hands travelling up to remove the dress but she squealed and pulled back.

“Benjamin, dinner's gonna get cold!” She laughed again when he buried his face in her neck, kissing her skin softly.

“Is that really what you're fucking concerned about now?” He grumbles in a teasing tone.

She giggled, “Should I be concerned about something else—woah!” Ben grabbed her hips and lifted her effortlessly, heading to the living room with her pretty legs around his hips. His lips plundering hers again all the way until they reached the couch where he sat with her straddling his lap. The kiss went wild once they settled comfortably on the couch. His big hands stroked her thighs ardently. They trailed up to her ass giving it a firm squeeze and she moaned in his mouth, plucking the rim of her satin panties. He smirked into the kiss, fingers tracing down to her core. His grin widened when he met her bare cunt.

“Oh, baby,” He rasps when she rolls her hips slowly, pressing her cunt on his clothed cock, “Aren't you a pretty fucking tease?” He tugged at the lip of the crotchless panties, a mischievous grin playing on his mouth.

She guffawed with a coquettish tilt of her head, and his cock twitched in an immediate response. However, the innocent look on her face opposed the tortuous pace of her hips. She was fucking tantalising him with those hips. And he fucking liked it despite the screaming urge growing in his chest to flip her over and fuck her raw. Oh, she did like it rough, the little slut. She liked to be beneath him and beg him to go harder and faster, to yank her hair and make her choke on his dick. She loved how he manhandled her with his superhuman strength despite being only a human, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't take great pleasure in it too. Ben's nothing if doesn't live to be in charge. He'd been shocked that a tiny woman like her could handle him as such. But he was quick to remember that she was with his fucking child. He couldn't go rough on her like he used to do even if they both craved it.

She didn't stop her torment as her delicate hands rested on his shoulders for support. He could smell the sweet scent of her arousal soaking his crotch and he growled, “Holy fuck, you gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours, or you planning on making me cream my pants?”

Her lips twisted wickedly, “Depends,”

“On fucking what?” He grunted, brows furrowed, puzzled. He was way too hard and drunk by her scent to clearly think or read between her lines, “Baby, you're fucking killing me here.”

“Aw, am I to seal the greatest era of America's history?” She giggled again, “What an honour.”

Then it clicked. The fucking slut. She was tempting him to ravish her. Maybe he should, but again, he worried about her and the child. Because honestly, he wasn't so sure if he could restrain himself if he unbridled that side of his.

Then his mouth splitted in a huge grin, brushing his cheek to hers to grumble in her ear, “The only honour you're gonna get is milking my cock empty in that slutty pussy of yours.” He chuckled triumphantly when he sensed her shivering in delight. Leaning his head backward, he saw her chewing on her lower lip adorably with a cute pinkish red dusting across her face, whereas her eyes were searing with covetousness. Ben pecked her nose and lifted her up again, gently. She trilled a series of choppy laughters and playfully kicked her legs when he carried her to their bedroom.

Needless to say, she took whatever honour he bestowed upon her like a champ.

He was craving a whiff of a cigar. He used to smoke after a good fuck in bed, she'd even share him a couple of drags sometimes. But since it was off the table — temporarily — he focused on and enjoyed her fingers running on his chest.

Fuck, pregnant sex did feel amazing. He gotta admit. He did hear from here and there that a woman with child, at some point of her pregnancy, would be touched by sudden and high libidinousness. But fuck, didn't that catch him off guard. And fuck, if he didn't enjoy it down to the last minute detail. And dare he say, it was the best sex he ever had. It was perfect; she was perfect.

Never did he think that he'd find home, his real home in a simple elementary school teacher he met on one of his tours throughout the country. A beautiful and smart woman who always kept him on his toes and had him wrapped around her pretty fingers.

Ben smiled and kissed the crown of her head, and slowly, it turned into a trail of kisses down her face. Then he captured her lips, and soon enough, they were engaging in a heated make-out session.

“Ben,” She whispered as she gazed at him, voice a bit hoarse from screaming and crying beneath him for hours.

His hand was rubbing circles on her ass languidly, “What is it, dollface?” He drawls with a thick voice.

“Sorry for not being a good wife for you the last couple of months.” She said meekly, bringing his hands to cradle them in hers, while he just frowned at her words, “They were tough times on me, on us.” She sighed, pressing light kisses on his rough hands, “But everything's gonna be set right again, I promise.”

Ben's frown only got deeper when he noticed the lick of fear and desperation in her eyes and voice. Fuck, she was scared shitless. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His wife was scared if he was screwing around on her because of her lack of attention due to the pregnancy, for she used to shower him with doting and devotion as a good wife did. Fuck, did he, by any mean, do anything wrong to arise such qualms in her? He certainly did not. Then he fucking remembered that nasty reputation of his that proceeded him.

Fuck, gotta reassure her and chill her the fuck down. He can't have her in such a position. He can't have his home in such a precarious, dark place. Not after what the two of them had done to build what they had up. He wouldn't allow it.

“Hey,” He passed rough-padded thumbs under the lines of her eyes, palms caressing her cheeks, ���Nothing went fucking wrong to set back right, sweetheart,” Then he gave her belly tender strokes, “You're an amazing wife,”

She was; everyday she woke up, five in the morning, to prepare him a delicious-ass breakfast. She took it upon herself to be his barber and shaved his beard almost everyday and trimmed his hair every now and then. She was patient when he wasn't. She embraced him when he was practically a walking ticking bomb. She patched him up — when needed — at night when he'd return to her roughed up from fighting crimes. She soothed him down when frustrated and angry. She took his bad temper and relieved it thoroughly. She was everything. She was home.

Ben's finger flicked her nose playfully, “As I'm fucking sure yer gonna be an amazing hot momma,”

Ah, here it was, the sheepish smile that reached her eyes. He'd fucking cherish it forever.

He kissed her forehead, “You're perfect; my perfect wife, my perfect home.”

[mistyorchid]

Meet-Cute

Old Man Logan x fem! reader

summary: Failed talking stages inspire you to meet someone irl. Riding an older man in the backseat of his limo makes you forget about the immature boys who ghosted you on Hinge. Ch. 2 Ch. 3 warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, smut, age gap, reader is 21+, fingering, riding, size difference, praise kink, pet names (doll, baby, sweet/good girl, sweetheart), unprotected p in v, light slapping, oral (male! receiving), creampie, car sex (nobody's around tho), logan's slutty glasses. wc: 3k

Hinge. The app designed to be deleted. You smiled as you pushed the cart, daydreaming about chucking your phone into the nearest lake. The few matches that you received often ghosted you after a week, afraid of committing to a real date.

So here you were, aimlessly strolling through a grocery store. Desperately begging the universe for a real man.

You spent an embarrassingly long time curating the perfect outfit to attract a guy worth your time. Casual enough for a quick errand, but still chic. I want to be with someone who admires my confidence. They shouldn't reprimand me for expressing myself.

That's how the feminist part of your brain explained your attire. The other touch-starved half, however, wanted to wear the shortest skirt you owned just to feel men stare holes through it.

You turned into the bakery aisle and pretended to evaluate the nutritional contents of a massive chocolate cake. Maybe this could be plan B, if tonight's endeavor was hopeless.

The comforting hum of fluorescent lights softened the sterile environment around you. Memories of simpler times floated in your mind. Handmade school lunches. Gentle kisses placed on your knee after a bad fall. You closed your eyes, lulled by the promises of love you were granted as a child. Now an adult, you yearned for a partner that could nurture you in a romantic way.

Logan overheard a bag of produce spill onto the floor as he picked up a shopping basket. The cashier dropped it when he saw Logan's blood-stained dress shirt.

Mumbling a string of profanity, he decided to release some steam. "Show's over!" he snapped, flippantly tossing his right arm behind him.

Ignoring the shocked gasps of the other shoppers, Logan sulked further into the store in search of something to soothe his palate.

His doctor tentatively ordered him to "lay off the booze," a suggestion that left three deep puncture wounds in the drywall of his office. Alcohol numbed the emotional and physical pain that plagued him, but it also further delayed his healing powers.

Logan's skeleton was withering away, and all he wanted was a fucking sweet treat.

Your body braced for impact as your chest made contact with a shopper haphazardly turning into the aisle. After dropping the cake onto the pristine white tile, you closed your eyes again, salvaging the moment of peace that was stolen from you.

"Hey, watch where you're going, asshole." You reluctantly opened your eyes and were met with the solid torso of a man.

Slowly raking your gaze up his body, you raised your eyebrows at the sight of his bloody shirt before meeting his narrowed eyes.

Crows feet radiating from the corners. Prescription glasses. He appeared much older than you expected from your brief contact with his chest.

You silently cursed your luck. This meet-cute plan was steadily evolving into a meet-angry situation.

"Not smart to close your eyes in public," he huffed, staring pointedly at the fallen cake. It was hard not to notice your mini skirt. He hasn't seen a skirt that short since the 60s.

Although you had pulled away from him, the man's eyes lingered on your chest. The playful baby-doll top hugged your cleavage in all the right places. Your glossy lips donned a similar shade of pink. He quickly resumed eye contact, feeling like a dirty old man for imagining them wrapped around his cock.

She's too young, you sick fuck. Logan's internal monologue worked overtime to maintain a shred of decency.

Your face turned away from him at the impending embarrassment you were about to put yourself through. Smirking, you shyly retorted, "Not smart to stare at a girl's tits in public." You gently pushed up his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.

Closing the gap between your chests, you tip-toed to reach his ear before whispering, "It's okay . . . I want you to."

The answer to Logan's suffering was sweeter than any slice of cake he could have indulged in. A pretty little thing was actually flirting with him, a cynical ex-soldier worn by the unforgiving rings of time.

Logan's hands found the back of your elbows and slowly pulled you closer to him. You gasped as you felt his belt buckle catch on the flimsy fabric of your top.

"Careful, doll," he grunted, leaning down to meet the side of your face. "I'm old enough to be your father."

You defiantly peered up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, and . . .?"

The man slowly distanced himself from you, gently tugging the hem of your top down to its original state.

Okay, definitely not the best response to seduce an older man. You chewed the inside of your cheek, stunned by your juvenile comeback.

"I'm sorry, kid. Forget I said anything," he muttered before turning into another aisle. He mentally kicked himself for letting the interaction go that far. Although his aching body and mind yearned for some relief, he wouldn't take advantage of some young girl.

He hurriedly stomped past the cashiers, swiping a few cigars from a distracted employee's station.

After the initial shock wore off, you quickly followed the older man to the parking lot. Totally not stalker-ish at all, right?

You wanted to take care of him. His reluctance to return your lust-sick gaze should have deterred you, but it only made you more desperate.

You watched as his hands dug into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. The chipper click of the limo doors unlocking motivated you to get his attention.

"Hey! Can we talk?" You yelled, raising an outstretched palm to stop him from getting inside the car.

Logan froze at the sound of your voice. He contemplated being responsible, slamming his door and driving off without a second glance.

The gentle pressure of your hand wrapping around his wrist made him think extremely irresponsible thoughts.

Turning around to meet your gaze, the older man swiftly opened the passenger door. "Get in. Now," he growled.

Words betrayed you. All you responded with was a surprised squeak as he used your grip on his wrist to push you further into the vehicle.

His eyes widened as you briefly parted your thighs to get settled in the lush leather seat. The sinfully short hem of your skirt bunched up, revealing your underwear.

Logan whipped his head to the front of the limo, avoiding the sight of your body. Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid how you felt against his. You sat at an angle towards him, knees pressing against his thigh. His body tensed as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Why were you following me, huh?" he asked, finally meeting your eyes. "I've had a long fuckin' day and I need answers." He couldn't believe that a young woman like you would be interested in him.

"Yeah, you're old enough to be my father, maybe older-" you paused to move your left hand onto his thigh. "-but I'm done playing with boys." You shyly turned your head before continuing, "Need a real man."

Logan was done holding back. Now, it all made sense. Your lack of direction in the store, the low cut of your outfit that was way too sexy for a late night grocery run. We're both adults, he reasoned. She wants this.

He gingerly cradled your jaw with his large hand, turning your head towards his. "You sure about this, sweetheart?

You covered his hand with your own, bringing your lips to his in a spontaneous kiss. "I-I need to hear you," he stuttered.

"Shut up and fuck me, . . . " you sighed, pausing to ask for his name.

"Logan . . . call me Logan, doll." His left hand snaked around your waist, bunching the delicate material and exposing your breasts.

As you leaned into his palm, he fished the limo keys out of his pocket and clicked twice, locking the doors. He fondled the underside of your tits before rolling the sensitive nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

You were grateful for the tinted windows that shielded your embarrassing moans from the public.

"Already whining for me, hm? So fuckin' needy," he hummed, pushing up your top even further. You crossed your arms to undress, but Logan swatted them away, explaining, "It's cute. Wanna see your tits bounce for me, baby."

He gripped your ass with both hands and effortlessly swung you onto the broad expanse of his lap.

Your back arched as his rough palm cupped your pussy, thumb languidly tracing your sensitive bud through the cotton.

"But this . . . has to go," he drawled, tugging the elastic of your panties before letting it go with a faint snap.

It was too much. You were splayed over the lap of a stranger, hips wantonly rocking yourself over his prominent bulge and mewling as your sensitive clit caught on the rough fabric of his slacks.

He stilled your movements with his hands, lovingly kneading the flesh of your hips. "You okay with this?" he asked, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. "Yeah, Logan . . . more than okay. Need you."

You loved that he was confident enough to take what he wanted but also gracious enough to check in, unlike the boys you were used to fucking around with.

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your skirt and panties, skillfully pushing your legs against your chest as he pulled them off. He decided against slicing them off with his claws, not wanting to hurt you. "Fuck. You're so pretty. My sweet, sweet girl . . ." he cooed. You whined as your aching cunt was finally exposed to Logan's hungry gaze and the chill night air. He groaned as you resumed desecrating his lap with your juices.

Your breath hitched as Logan traced two fingers along your bottom lip. You granted him access, playfully darting your tongue around his digits.

After his fingers were thoroughly soaked, he used your saliva to gently trace your hole, noticing the faint flutter of your walls.

"Need me to fill you up, hm? Poor baby's clenching around nothing. Let me fix that . . ." Logan's palm brushed against your clit as his fingers plunged into you, setting a steady pace.

You were incredibly wet, but he needed to prep you for his thick cock. He drooled, collecting a heavy wad of spit onto his tongue before letting it fall onto your pussy.

"Ah-ah!" You exclaimed, surprised by the contact. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing at the lewd feeling of his spit mixing with your wetness.

He used his other hand to slap repeatedly against your puffy folds, mesmerized by how vulnerable you were being for him.

"Yeah, you like that?" He whispered, curling his fingers as they met your cervix. You covered your mouth, desperately trying to maintain some modesty. Logan withdrew his left hand to pry away your arm and swallow your moans, sloppily slotting his lips into yours.

You gasped into his mouth as you felt your cunt spasm around his fingers, gushing all over his tight slacks.

"Oh, fuck! Logan . . . " you mewled, biting his lower lip while he continued to finger you through your orgasm.

Your head fell into the inviting crook of his neck, nuzzling his graying beard. "Atta girl, come for me," he cooed.

Logan peered down at you, noticing wet droplets dampening his beard. You were silently crying, tears cascading down your puffy cheeks before landing on his face.

At first, he was alarmed. "Hey, hey, shhhh," he purred. "What's the matter, doll?"

His cock twitched when he realized you were smiling against his neck.

"Nothing's wrong, Logan . . . you make me feel so good, that's all."

He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Yeah? Want me to make you feel even better? Fill you up for real this time?"

You nodded dumbly, still basking in the haze of your release.

"Nuh-uh. Words." The simple command made you rut into his lap.

You shuddered while responding. "Wanna feel you inside me. Need your-" Logan bucked up into you. "-cock."

He slid his hands under your thighs, briefly pushing you forward so he could unbuckle his belt. Your small hands slinked toward his waist. "Let me do it," you pleaded, hastily sliding his belt through its loops and tossing it to the floor.

You pulled his cock out of his slacks, leaning down to press sweet little kisses to the head. Your thighs burned with the effort, but it was worth it to feel him momentarily lose control. Logan hissed sharply, "Good girl, fuck-" before guiding his thick cock into your heavenly mouth.

You licked a prominent vein that teased its way above his waistband. The taste of him was utterly intoxicating. You moaned onto his length, choking back tears as he suddenly thrust up into your eager throat.

The delicious weight of his cock on your tongue was short-lived. He cupped your face, forcing your mouth to slide past the tip with an obscene pop.

"Won't last long if you keep doing that, doll. Takes a lot less to get me riled up these days," he explained.

You nodded as you straightened yourself, using your knees to hover above his lap. He teasingly ran the flushed tip of his cock through your folds before sinking into your weeping pussy.

"Oh my god! fuck-" you cried, lowering your hips to embrace his full length. Your hands found stability on Logan's shoulders as you bounced on his cock.

Logan stared in awe at your tits. They were practically spilling out the sides of your cute top, jiggling with each movement of your hips.

As he admired your form, you drunk in the sight of his coarse salt and pepper beard. His wiry glasses barely held onto the slope of his strong nose due to your eager movements. You paid special attention to his crimson-stained shirt, wondering how he was enduring the wounds.

"You're hurt." You stated, pausing to slowly unbutton his dress shirt.

Logan's hands grabbed a handful of your ass and slammed you down onto his lap, forcing you to continue taking his cock.

"Never said you could stop," he huffed. "It'll take time, but I'm healing."

You gasped as your clit hitched on the bunched fabric of his slacks, frantically shrugging off his shirt in the process. A devastating moan ripped from Logan's throat as you peppered kisses on his wounds. The coppery taste of his blood was oddly soothing, reminding you that the man buried in your cunt was real and not just a figment of your lust-fueled imagination.

Logan loved how dazed you looked, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, your pupils dilated and glossy. His cock twitched every time your soft tits brushed against his face. You whined as the steady rhythm of your hips faltered, hinting at your imminent release.

"Lean forward, baby. Let your old man take care of you," he sighed, wrapping his broad arms around your waist. You allowed yourself to slump forward, arching your back and playfully wiggling your ass in the air.

You yelped as he slapped your ass with enough force to feel the sting radiate from his outstretched palm. "Such a fuckin' tease," he growled, filling you up in one thrust. He set a punishing pace that made you sob into his chest. The loud squelches of your release echoed throughout the limo, mirroring your high-pitched wines.

"Oh, my god! . . ." you mewled, savoring the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. Your breath hitched every time his hips met yours, balls slapping against the sensitive skin of your ass.

He fucked up into your cunt, relishing the fact that you'd probably never had a cock as big as his. Logan stared at where you were connected, hypnotized by the subtle drag of your folds along his rugged length.

"Don't know what I did to deserve a pretty girl like you." His teeth tugged on the delicate strap of your top, exposing your breasts. His mouth enveloped the bud, gently sucking and pulling as they hardened.

"Logan . . . can't take it anymore. I'm close." You clenched around him, earning another hard slap on your ass.

"You gonna come for me sweetheart, hm?" He somehow increased his pace, hips drilling into your sensitive cunt. "C'mon, come all over my cock. Such a sweet young thing, so eager to please . . . " he hummed into your ear.

"And just so we're clear, I am definitely older than your father." His filthy words made you arch even higher, stilling your hips mid-air and allowing Logan to fuck you through your release.

The sound of you faintly chanting his name as you came sent him over the edge. "You can take it," he encouraged as your pathetic whines intermingled with his unabashed groans. His hips drove home, bouncing you harshly against his tense thighs and spilling into you with a low growl.

You almost blacked out at the feeling of his cum spurting into your walls, reaching even further when Logan buried his cock to the hilt. You clenched around him, overstimulated and thoroughly fucked.

"That's it, just relax . . . You look so pretty milking my cock," he praised, brushing stray hair away from your face.

You managed to sit upright and shakily moved to lift yourself off his cock, but Logan quickly steadied your hips. He's still hard, you realized, fascinated by his renewed vigor.

He panted, obviously just as spent as you were.

"So, uh, tomorrow, the Italian place on fifth street, 8 PM?"

You narrowed your eyes, incredibly confused at his choice of words after experiencing the best sex you've ever had.

"Our first date," he clarified. He kissed your cheek and you blushed at the contrast between the innocent action and the fact that his hard cock was still buried in your cunt. "After all, I'm a real man, right? And real men plan dates." He plastered on a cocky grin, repeating your earlier statements.

"Okay, old man. It's a date." You smiled, kissing his mouth with passion.

an: Ah!!! I had so much fun writing this. Old Man Logan, when will it be my turn >:[

[tonixe]

@everyone:

Who wants to request any 'The Boys' fics from me <3 💫🌠

[pure-smut]

sunshine.

featuring: Hinata Shoyo x f!reader

contains: timeskip!Hinata, best friends to lovers, unprotected s*x, creampie, slight overstimulation at the end

word count: 2.4k

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

MDNI | 18+ content

Masterlist

a/n: if anyone knows the artist for the cover picture, I searched everywhere and couldn't find them!! Pls and ty in advance <3

When Hinata Shoyo left for Brazil, it was like an eclipse over your life.

You’re best friends so you still talk almost every day, whether it’s quick messages squeezed into busy days or a video call right as one of you wakes up and the other one is about to sleep. But Hinata was the sunshine in your life - a bright, burning ball of energy that powered your days. When he left, everything went a little bit gloomier.

You’re busy yourself with college – meeting new people, keeping up with classes, and making time to catch up with everyone from Karasuno. Still, it feels like a candle trying to compete with the sun.

So when you show up at a house party, not really feeling up for it but wanting to see your old classmates again, you stop dead in the doorway.

Sitting on the sofa, surrounded by everyone you know, you see shock of orange hair and hear a familiar laugh. Your mouth falls open.

“Sho…?”

Hinata turns at the sound of your voice, a broad smile breaking out on his face. The moon slides to the side, the sun shining again. Your heart thunders in your ears.

“Y/n!” he calls out, leaping up and sprinting over to you.

You’re still in shock when he scoops you up into a hug, squeezing you tight.

“You’re here?” is all you can say.

Hinata doesn’t stop hugging you but you hear him laugh, vibrating through his chest.

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” He pulls back to grin at you, brown eyes alight. “Are you surprised?”

You huff out laughter, your shock subsiding, and wrap your arms around his neck for another hug.

“It’s a great surprise,” you say, smiling hard.

It’s only when you put your arms around him that you realise how big he’s gotten. He’s a few inches taller than before and he’s broader than you remember, his shoulders hard as rocks. When you pull away from the hug, you hope he doesn’t notice the blush dusting your cheeks.

You both make your way into the party to a chorus of greetings from your old classmates. Hinata sits back down on the sofa but you linger, realising all the seats are taken.

“Um…”

“Sit here, y/n,” Hinata says, patting his thigh.

You don’t know why the idea makes you blush so hard – you and Hinata were always physically close, not afraid to hug or touch. Maybe it's because it's been years since you saw him in person. Maybe it's because...

You search his face for any sign he feels as flustered as you but he’s wearing an easy smile, his head cocked to the side as he waits for you to reply.

“S-sure,” you stammer out.

As soon as you slide onto Hinata’s lap, his arm snakes around your waist, resting his hand on your hip. His thighs are solid beneath you, as built as the rest of him. You obviously knew he trained hard in Brazil but you didn’t realise just how much he’s changed. You chance a glance at him, wondering if anything else has changed.

Hinata catches your eye.

“You okay?” he asks, flashing you a smile. “Comfy?”

Confidence. Hinata hasn’t only gained muscle in Brazil – the awkward teenage boy you knew has been replaced with a man. A man who flirts with his best friend, who invites you to sit on his lap with ease.

You wonder if he’s flirting because it’s you or because it’s his personality now. You’re not sure.

You’ve been quiet for too long because Hinata’s smile starts to drop. His eyebrows furrow.

“Seriously, you okay?” He lowers his voice, leaning in closer. “You don’t need to sit here if you don’t want.”

You shake your head.

“No, it’s fine. Sorry, I was just…” You give him a sheepish smile. “I was thinking, you’ve changed a lot.”

“I have?” Hinata looks genuinely confused before his expression clears. “Oh! Yeah, I grew like three inches!”

He grins wide and you smother your laughter.

“I mean, yeah, that,” you say. “But you’re like… bigger.”

You get the first glimpse of the Hinata you used to know as his cheeks tint pink. He rubs the back of his neck bashfully and you’re treated to his bicep bulging with the movement.

“Heh, yeah, I guess so.” His eyes swivel to yours. “You’ve changed too.”

This catches you off guard. You glance down at yourself before looking back up at him.

“Me?”

“Yeah. It’s like you get prettier every year.”

Your cheeks go hot. Hinata holds your gaze and you get a familiar feeling in your stomach, something you haven’t felt since he left. Intense, like you’re looking directly at the sun. Your skin prickles and you feel light-headed, like you’ve been sunbathing too long. It’s the effect Hinata has on you, that he’s always had on you.

Your sunshine.

Hinata’s hand tightens on your hip, not looking away. There’s something taut between you that thrums with electricity. You know there’s a party full of people around you but everything around Hinata has fallen into darkness. He’s the burning ball of fire in front of you, blocking out all else.

“I really want to kiss you,” he confesses, voice low and thick. “But I want to do it somewhere better. You deserve somewhere better.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. You open your mouth to say something but your voice sticks. You give a small nod instead, not able to tear your eyes away from his.

“Let me take you out tomorrow,” Hinata says. “Please?”

You lick your lips to wet them and Hinata eyes dart down before flicking back up.

“Yeah,” you manage to croak out. “I’d really like that.”

Hinata grins like he’s just won a volleyball game, his ears pink. You both return to the chatter of the party but you feel Hinata’s thumb tracing circles on your hip, his hand on you the entire night.

*

You spend the entire next day trying on clothes and throwing them to the floor. Hinata had told you to dress nice and be ready for 7pm but he insisted on keeping the rest a secret. The closer that 7pm gets, the more frantic you are.

Eventually, you settle on a short black dress, showing just enough leg and cleavage without looking like you’re about to hit up a club. You’re finishing the last of your make-up as the doorbell goes. 7pm on the dot.

You open the door to see Hinata grinning, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers, and your heart melts. He’s wearing a fitted emerald green shirt, tight across his chest and arms, in contrast to the fiery orange of his hair. If you hadn’t noticed the change in him before, you wouldn’t be able to ignore it now.

But Hinata’s smile falters as he sees you. He blinks once, twice, his mouth dropping open. His eyes trail down your body as his ears turn hot pink.

“Holy shit,” he exclaims.

It’s your turn to blush under the intensity of Hinata’s gaze. You gesture for him to come inside and he does as you close the door behind him. You barely have time to turn around before Hinata closes the space between you, forcing you to press your back against the door.

Hinata scoops his hand under your jaw, tilting your face up to his. You can feel the heat radiating off him as he dips his head, his other hand finding your waist. When he kisses you, he feels like molten fire.

Hinata’s lips are soft but his grip on your jaw is firm, only a fraction of his strength. You clutch at the hard muscles of his back, anchoring yourself to him. When his lips part yours to deepen the kiss, you give no resistance. His tongue meets your own as you moan into his mouth, melting under his touch. Hinata’s body responds, his cock hardening until you can feel it pressed against your lower stomach.

When he pulls away, you’re both breathless.

“I’m sorry.” He presses his forehead against yours. “I had a whole plan but when I saw you…”

Hinata tightens his grip on you, his fingers tangling in your hair as he cradles the back of your skull.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he finishes, shaking his head. “I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“It was perfect,” you tell him and it’s the truth.

You’re almost dizzy and your skin feels like it’s on fire. You’ve always missed your best friend but now you crave him. Your hands run up his back as you reach up to kiss him again.

“Fuck…” he mumbles against your mouth. “I don’t wanna stop.”

“Then let’s not stop,” you say, kissing across his jaw.

“The reservation…” Hinata’s hips grind against yours on instinct as your lips reach his neck. “Our – ah – date…”

He groans as you lick across his windpipe, his bulge now apparent as he continues to grind it against you, his body moving of its own accord.

“I waited so long to show you…” He sounds so upset with himself.

“Sho.” You take his face in your hands, looking at him. His eyes are half-lidded and glazed over. “All I want is you. I don’t need anything else.”

Hinata’s face softens. He leans forward to bury his face in your neck.

“I missed you so much,” he says, voice muffled. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You reach around to run your fingers through his vibrant hair, feeling him shudder with pleasure under your touch.

“Show me,” you whisper.

Hinata’s resolve crumbles. He’s spent so long taming his impulsive side, the part of him that moves without thinking, without regard for consequences. But now you’re in front of him, asking him to take you, and the rest of the world goes white.

He dips his head to kiss you again, this time with intent. His hands grab at you, fingers digging into your flesh as he presses you flush to him, trapping you between his body and the door.

As his tongue laps into your mouth, he reaches down to grab your thigh, holding it up and forcing your dress to ride up over your hips. His bulge grinds against your clothed pussy, the friction making your clit throb with need. You tilt your head back and sigh as Hinata trails wet kisses down your neck.

With two layers of fabric between you, you start to whine, needing more. Hinata’s spent years wondering what you sound like, imagining the noises he could get you to make, but nothing compares to hearing you for the first time.

His movements are frantic, hooking his fingers over the hem of your panties before tugging them down. They’re not even fully off, still dangling around your ankle when Hinata unzips his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his cock to spring free.

Now it’s happening – now it’s finally happening – he can’t hold back. He grabs your ass with both hands, lifting you until you can feel his fat tip pressing against your hole.

“Are you okay?” he breathes. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips red and swollen. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Sho. I need you.”

Hinata presses you against the door as he pushes himself inside. He doesn’t want to go too fast, doesn’t want to hurt you, but as soon as he feels your walls around him, he can’t help himself. He pumps in and out of you shallowly, desperate for more friction from your heavenly pussy without going too deep too fast.

“Ah!” you gasp as he penetrates your needy hole, the ridges around his mushroom tip stimulating your nerves in a way that makes your thighs quiver.

You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him deeper. Hinata is more than happy to oblige, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he sinks his cock further inside you. You grip the hard muscles of his shoulders, feeling him reach the sensitive spot inside you.

When you open your eyes, you see Hinata watching your face intently, a notch between his brows. His eyes have done dark, that same intense look in his face when he’s locked onto something. Or someone.

Hinata’s cock slides back and forth over the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you and you know it’s pushing you close to the edge.

“T-there, Sho…” you whimper. “Right there, fuck-!”

Your voice is so sweet, so high with lust and need. Hinata picks up his speed, fucking you so hard the door rattles behind you. You didn’t know he had this in him, this feral side, but you’re more than happy to be on the other end of it. Your cunt is drooling over his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck you as hard as he wants.

“Sho, I’m… I’m gonna…”

You dig your nails into his shoulders, your toes curling as he brings you to orgasm.

Your plush, slick walls massage his cock, quivering around him as you cum. Hinata’s stroked himself to the thought of you before - many times - but nothing comes close to this. His fist can’t compare to the way you milk his cock, so hot and tight. But it’s your face that Hinata can’t stop watching.

The way your lips part, your features contorting in pleasure, your eyes glazed over with lust. Hinata knew when he left for Brazil that he loved you. He didn’t think he could fall any further. Until now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans, his cock throbbing, knowing he’s close. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Even as he cums, Hinata can’t stop fucking you. He unleashes thick ropes of cum inside you, still pumping in and out, a flurry of curses falling from his lips. The mix of your fluids is indescribable, the noise of your sloppy cunt only spurring him on. He keeps going until he can’t cum anymore, until it’s almost painful. Only then does he pull out, a flood of his cum following, running down your thigh.

“Holy shit,” Hinata gasps, releasing his grip on you so you can stand.

When your legs quake, he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you up.

“Fuck, Sho…” you huff out laughter.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, running a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

Hinata glances down at where your dress is stained with his cum and winces.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me clean you up. Where’s the bathroom? I’ll run you a bath.”

“Slow down,” you laugh. “Let me look at you a second, okay?”

You reach up to cup his face and he rests his hand on yours, turning to kiss your palm, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Let’s make up for lost time, hm?” you say with a smile and Hinata looks at you like you’re made of sunshine.

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all's fair in love and viscera...

pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader wc: 6.7k contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, violence, blood, gore (more so thoughts of gore) nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, fighting as foreplay, bleeding as foreplay, written with X2 logan in mind, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem!receiving), finger sucking hehehe, light choking, hair pulling, blood play, biting is just another form of sexual penetration guys, scent kink, pain kink, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n. author’s note: i have a rotting note that says "logan spar fic turned face sitting" so that's what this is but it kinda got a little weird lol i also just wanted an excuse to write more about the mutant ability that's been bopping around in my brain since watching season four of the boys. kisses!

logan wants to spar...

You can smell him before he even opens the door to the training room.

It’s funny, because almost all blood smells the exact same. It melds into one coppery, metallic tang that stings your nose everywhere you go.

Mutant blood is only slightly different, something sharper with a tartness that lingers in the air longer, that tingles along the edge of your senses and burns the back of your throat.

Logan's blood is something entirely different.

The first time you met him it almost brought you to your knees. It was so overwhelming, the smell swarming you so intoxicating and all encompassing that it made you feel dizzy.

Logan’s blood is a wild mix of earthy musk and something like charred wood. His scent carries an electric charge, like the smell of air right before a thunderstorm, like ozone after a lightning strike.

It's like nothing you've ever encountered before—hot and acidic, with a barely there underlying sweetness that never fails to turn your insides to liquid. It seems to defy normalcy, bending the rules of what you know about blood and biology.

You know in the back of your mind that it's the adamantium. It's been fused to his skeleton for so long, it must be something chemical. A reaction happening in his body that makes it so distinctly different.

Part of you likes to think that it's just Logan, that the scent is a reflection of everything he is. The raw, untamed essence of his nature, something primal that’s deeply ingrained in his being.

The door creaks open behind you, you make it a point to keep your focus on the punching bag. You've been here for hours, your arms only finally starting to burn with exertion. The bag feels solid and grounding under your taped knuckles, swinging lightly with every hit.

Logan's heavy footsteps get closer and closer, echoing through the empty room until he's striding past you to lean against the wall next to the bag's rig.

You don't look at him, but you can feel his gaze—an intense, almost palpable thing.

“Figured you’d be down here,” Logan's voice is the familiar rough and gravelly rumble you've become used to, cutting through the silence between the two of you with a barely there teasing edge. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Logan has an even better sense of smell than you do, and he can sniff out a lot more than blood. You're sure he knew you were here this whole time, that he could smell you from his room two stories up.

You give a small, noncommittal grunt, ignoring him as you throw another punch. Sweat is dotted across your hairline, it drips down the small of your back and the column of your throat. It's not that you don't like Logan, that you don’t want him here, you have the complete opposite of that problem.

You like Logan too much, more than you should.

Every time he’s near, you’re intensely aware of how much his presence affects you, of the way all the blood in your body starts to sizzle under your skin with a throbbing need that's getting harder and harder to ignore. It’s like a constant, low-grade fever that only flares up when he gets too close. 

“Come on, kid. You can’t ignore me all night,” he says, thick arms crossing over his chest. "Don't make me beg."

You let out a breath, more exasperated than anything else, and finally turn to face him. Logan’s standing there, all broad shoulders and rugged confidence in his white tank and gray sweats, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

That smirk—it's almost as dangerous as the claws hidden just underneath his skin.

“Didn’t know you were the begging type.” Your attempt to sound casual is overpowered by the slight breathy edge of your voice. You blame it on the workout.

Logan's smirk widens just a fraction, and you can tell he's caught the hitch in your voice. His eyes, sharp and knowing, narrow in on you with that familiar mix of amusement and something you can't quite place, something that sends a shiver down your spine.

"Only when I really want something," he replies easily.

Your form falters, just barely, but it’s enough for Logan to notice. You can hear the amused huff he lets out.

You throw another punch at the bag, more to steady yourself than anything else. The impact reverberates through your knuckles, but it doesn't do much to dispel the heat pooling low in your stomach.

"Back to ignoring me?" he asks, needling. You can see the raise of his brow in your peripheral vision.

“Trying to,” you mutter under your breath, though it's more to yourself than to him. You keep your gaze locked firmly on the bag, willing your pulse to steady.

"What's that?" he leans in closer, his scent wafting over to you as he does. Somehow stronger than before, an assault on your senses. You barely conceal a shiver.

"It’s not my fault you’re here when I'm at my least chatty," you retort blandly, a little louder, willing your voice to sound as steady as it can.

"Looks to me like you’re always at your least chatty,” he shoots back, not showing any signs of backing down.

"It's late,” you reply tersely.

"Yeah," he says. "It is late."

The words hang in the air, laced with a double meaning that neither of you acknowledges.

"Too late to be up hounding the bags like they owe you money," he adds, the tone of his voice almost gentle in a way that catches you off guard. Nothing like the Logan you're used to.

“Yeah, well,” you grunt, throwing a particularly sharp jab. “Some of us don’t need all the beauty sleep."

Logan lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, you can feel the vibration of it in your bones. "Funny," he muses to himself, voice going quiet like he's turning your words over in his mind. "I can see why Charles keeps you around."

You huff, sweaty brows knitting together in frustration. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”

“Babysit?” He smirks, clearly amused. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

Your resolve finally cracks, your fists sore when you drop them to your sides and turn to Logan with a questioning look on your face.

"What do you want, Logan?”

It sounds harsher than you meant it, rough and exasperated as you start to catch your breath for the first time since he walked in.

Logan doesn't respond, just pushes off the wall to step closer. His scent hits you like a truck now that your focus is solely on him, you can feel your blood start to thrum under your veins. The sweat dripping down your back feels like it’s igniting the tension in your body, and Logan’s only making it worse the closer he gets.

He stops a little less than a foot away from you. It’s too close, he evades your space until all you can see is him. The width of his shoulders, the strong muscle of his chest and torso filling your view.

Logan doesn't say anything for a few beats, just stares down at you with a studying look on his face. It's a struggle to keep still under the intensity of his gaze. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the rhythmic thud loud in your ears as the silence stretches between you.

He tilts his head to the side slightly, eyes narrowing as he trails them over your sweaty face. You're seconds away from saying something, from turning and running with your tail between your legs, when he beats you to it.

He lets out an amused scoff, shaking his head as he walks past you to the large blue training mat in the middle of the room.

"C'mon," he calls over his shoulder, "Try hitting something that hits back, might help clear your head."

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift, but Logan’s already made his way to the center of the mat, turning to face you with a challenging glint in his eye.

You shake your head slowly, not moving from your place across the room. "I don't want to fight you."

Logan chuckles wryly, “Could’ve fooled me, sweetheart.”

The nickname sends a jolt through you, your pulse skipping in response. It’s always the way he says it—rough around the edges but with a softness that’s almost affectionate. You clench your fists tight, as if the simple act of it will keep your thoughts in check.

"Think you can keep up?" he teases, rolling his shoulders in that casual, self-assured way of his. But there's something in his tone, a challenge that makes you want to prove yourself.

You cast your eyes to the ceiling, exasperated, a bemused laugh bubbling from your chest as you do. "You know I can," you reply, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you. "This isn't about that."

You should just say no. You should say no and go back up to your room so you can go to bed and forget all about this in the morning. You can barely stand to be in the same room with Logan for more than thirty minutes at a time, training with him is too much of a risk.

"What's it about then? You scared?" Logan's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, a playful smirk curling his lips. He raises an eyebrow, daring you to join him.

That does it. A spark of defiance flares in your chest, overriding the nervous tension that’s been building since he walked in. You’re not one to back down from a fight, especially when Logan's practically begging for one.

Without thinking, you stride over to the mat.

Logan watches you approach, his stance relaxed but ready, like a predator sizing up its prey. You try your best to ignore the smug look on his face as you kick off your shoes and join him.

"Not scared," you shrug, running your fingers over the tape on your knuckles. "I just don't need you getting all pissy when I win." You roll your shoulders, shake out your arms, and square up, focusing on the way Logan’s eyes are locked on yours.

Logan's grin widens, a flash of sharp teeth that makes your pulse quicken. "We'll see about that."

You drop into a ready stance, the tension in your muscles coiled tight like a spring. For a moment, neither of you moves, just sizing each other up. The silence between you stretches taut like a bowstring. Your eyes lock onto Logan's, each of you reading the other, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The air between you feels like it's vibrating, charged with a mix of tension, anticipation, and something else—something unspoken, simmering just beneath the surface.

Then, in a blur of motion, Logan makes the first move, just like you expected him to. He lunges, fast and strong, but you're ready for him, sidestepping the blow and bringing your forearm up to deflect his fist away from your body.

"Slow start, old man?" you quip, a sly smile tugging at your lips as you regain your footing. "Speed isn't what it used to be?"

Logan chuckles, a low and throaty sound. "Just warming up, sweetheart. Don't want you crying unfair when I take you down too quick."

You scoff, rolling your eyes dramatically before launching your own attack. You swing a swift roundhouse kick aimed at his midsection. He anticipates the move, catching your ankle with one hand while his other reaches out to grab your wrist.

But you're quicker. Using the momentum, you twist your body and slip free from his grasp, landing lightly back on your feet a few steps away. The brief contact sends a jolt up your leg, his touch searing even through the thick layer of your sweats.

"Stop holding back," you say roughly, your lips turned down in a displeased frown. "Hit me."

Logan's eyes flash with amusement. "Careful what you wish for."

He advances again, this time more aggressive. He throws a combination of punches—left, right, left—each one precise and controlled. You block the first two, but the third grazes past your defenses, skimming your rib cage hard enough to sting.

You hiss softly at the impact but don't back down. Instead, you duck low and sweep your leg out in a wide arc, aiming to knock him off balance. Logan slides back just in time, your foot swiping through empty air as he evades the attack with a kind of brute grace that you wouldn’t expect.

"Getting fancy now?" he remarks, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face.

You don't respond, springing to your feet with a raised fist in a swift uppercut. This time you connect, your knuckles catching his stubbled jaw with a loud 'crack'. Your whole hand throbs, you can feel the break in your thumb snap back together in a sharp pinch.

Logan stumbles back a step, his head snapping to the ceiling with the force of your hit. When he turns back to you, there's a large bruise blooming along the sharp cut of his jaw. You watch the color of it spread across his skin, angry reds and dull purples that fade as fast as they appear.

There's a glint of something dangerous in his eyes as he meets your gaze. The brown of them darker than before, his pupils blown out and glossy in a way you've never seen.

With a low growl, he comes at you again, faster this time. His movements a blur of muscle and intent. You manage to block the first hit, but not the second, his fist catches your side with enough power to make you stumble back a few steps. Pain flares white hot through your ribs, but you grit your teeth and bear it.

You lose yourself in the rhythm of the fight. The world narrows down to the two of you, the sound of your breaths and the feel of his skin brushing against yours in fleeting moments of contact.

There's a thrill in it, in the way you challenge each other, in the way you push past your own boundaries.

But there's also something more, something deeper. Every time your eyes lock, you can feel the electricity between you, the way your heart skips a beat, the way your breath catches in your throat. It's not just about the fight anymore. 

You feel more alive than you have in a long time. More alive with every sting of each new blow, with the way your muscles burn, with the stray hairs that stick to your forehead.

The heat between you is almost tangible, mixing with the sweat and exertion. Every punch, every block, sends a jolt of adrenaline through your system, making it both exhilarating and maddening.

The scent of him—earthy, electric, and utterly intoxicating—growing stronger with every second. Your senses are on high alert, every part of you tuned in to his presence.

It wraps around your whole being, making it hard to think straight. But you don’t need to think—you just move, letting your instincts take over.

Logan feints to the left and uses it to sweep your legs out from under you in the same move he mocked you for. Your back hits the floor with a hard thud, the give of the mat not doing much to soften the hardwood underneath.

All the breath in your lungs rushes out of you in a sharp gasp. Before you can recover, Logan is looming over you. He cages your body under his own, thick arms on either side of your head, his weight pressing you further into the floor. His breath is hot against your ear as he leans in close, his voice a low, almost growling murmur.

"Gotcha."

You try to come up with a witty comment, a snarky line, a petty insult. Anything at all really—but the words catch in your throat. Instead, you just stare up at him, your chest heaving violently, your heart pounding so loud you're sure he can hear it.

The whole room feels like it’s spinning, and for a moment, all you can focus on is the intensity in Logan’s eyes, the heat of him against you.

Suddenly, your entire body feels like it's on fire. Phantom flames lapping at every inch of your skin that send your head reeling quicker than you can blink. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but you've only ever felt it outside of a mission once, and it didn't end well.

For a few heart stopping seconds, you're more than confused. Panic starts to set in at the thought of having another "accident" and not even knowing what's triggering it.

Through the messy haze of your panic, you finally see it. The tiny cut above Logan's brow leaking a thin trail of red down the side of his face.

Everything around you dissolves into static, your eyes zeroing in on that single bead of crimson. The cut's long gone by the time it drips from his jaw to the mat right next to your shoulder. Logan's skin stitching back together and leaving no trace that it was ever broken in the first place, but it doesn't matter.

The damage is already done, and you can feel your body start to react.

You can feel your resolve crumbling, the edges of your self-control fraying with every passing second. Your own blood pulses beneath your skin like liquid fire as your stomach churns and twists. The intense need to feel, to taste, to take claws at your throat.

You let out a low, guttural sound, somewhere between a growl and a whimper, as you lose the last of your control.

Hank had called it a frenzy, but that wasn't a technical term.

"You're not in your right mind. You've essentially been conditioned to react strongly to the scent and sight of blood, particularly when you're already in a heightened emotional or physical state. The combination of adrenaline, exertion, and the scent triggers this...well, this 'frenzy' for lack of a better term."

It's like you blackout, and when you wake up, you're straddling Logan's chest with your hand wrapped around his throat in a vice-like grip. The tan column of his throat glowing red beneath your hand, a map of blue veins inked along his skin like spiderwebs as you watch the blood pulse through them.

Your grip tightens instinctively, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to reign in the storm swirling inside you. Everything narrows down to the pounding in your ears, the blazing heat of Logan's skin under your fingers, and the urge to let go, to give in.

Logan's voice starts to trickle in around the static buzzing in your ears, your name falling from his lips sounds strained, but there's a calmness to it. The fog of your instincts begins to fade, the world around you slowly starting to piece back together.

You blink, the haze in your mind clearing as you try to focus on his face, the way his eyes are locked onto yours. Intense, but not clouded with fear like you expected.

Your chest heaves with every breath, ragged and short like they're being ripped out of your lungs. Your wide eyes dropping to where your hand is still locked around his throat, panic surges in your chest like ice freezing over a lake.

But before you can do anything, Logan's reaching up, his hand catching your wrist in a tight grip. His thumb brushes over your pulse point—the touch sends a jolt through you, as if he’s touched a live wire.

“Don't,” he says, like he knows what you're thinking, his voice a rough whisper. The rasp of it vibrates against your hand. “Don't stop now."

Logan’s other hand comes up to rest on your hips, his touch firm but not forceful. He doesn’t try to wrestle control away from you; instead, he holds you steady. His fingers dig into your skin, grounding you.

“Come on,” he coaxes, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sends a shiver of anticipation through you. “I can take it. Give it to me.”

The world around you blurs, your focus entirely on the man beneath you, the way his body feels under your hands, the way he’s willingly surrendering to your control.

You take a breath, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. You search his eyes, dark and full of want. There's a heat there, a spark that crackles between you, and it only adds fuel to your fire.

If he wants to push, you're ready to push back.

Silently, you slide your hand up the expanse of his throat, feeling the way his pulse beats strong and fast under your palm. The glow under his skin dissipates as you make your way up, tracing your fingers over his jaw and up to his bottom lip.

Logan’s breathing is rapid, his chest rising and falling under you quicker than before. His lips are slick and red, parted so enticingly that you can help but slide your index finger over them. Your nail digs into the fat of his bottom lip, not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to let him feel it.

Logan lets you toy with him, meets your gaze head on as you push further. Your finger presses deeper, pushing past the seam of his lips to feel the warmth of his mouth, the wet glide of his tongue against your skin.

The sharp bite of Logan's teeth pinches your skin as he closes his lips around your finger and sucks.

Your breath catches in your throat, heat blooming in your core as his tongue brushes over the pad of your finger. You can feel the ache of your cunt between your legs, arousal leaking wet and sticky in your panties.

Your other hand rises up to rest on the side of his face, your fingers grazing over his cheekbone. The touch feather-light but filled with a fierce, unspoken energy. Logan’s breath hitches slightly, his eyes darkening even further.

Your palm splays over the skin of his cheek, the heat of his face seeping into your hand. Logan’s eyes close for a moment, his breath coming in shallow bursts as he tilts his head into your touch.

In a quick move, you dig your fingernails into the fat of his cheek roughly. Logan’s body arches under you, his back snapping off the mat with guttural groan ripping from his chest as you pierce his skin.

You gasp at the scent of him wafting up through the air, at the feeling of his teeth digging into your own flesh. His blood leaking onto the tips of your fingers feels like a shock to your system, both electrifying and terrifying.

His skin glows even brighter than before. A mix of reds and oranges that light up just beneath his skin, the blue of his veins like rivers on a map. Your nails dig deeper into his skin, drawing more blood, the warm, sticky liquid coating your fingers. You watch, mesmerized, as the glow under his skin pulses in response, as if feeding off your energy, amplifying the connection between you.

Logan’s breath hitches, his body tensing beneath yours, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into your touch, his eyes dark and hooded with desire.

it takes barely any energy from you. The faintest traces of your power used for something none of those demented scientists in white lab coats intended.

None of that matters. All that matters is the raw, animalistic connection between you—the way his body is responding to your touch, the way his eyes shine with want, the way his blood sings in harmony with yours.

You could boil Logan alive in less than a second, burst every vessel and capillary in his body until he's nothing more than a copper stain on the floor. But his hands only tighten their grip on your waist to drag you impossibly closer.

"More," Logan growls, his voice vibrating against your palm as his teeth sink a little deeper into your finger, the heat of his breath searing against your skin. He hooks his hands under your thighs, dragging your body up his chest until your legs are spread on either side of his head. 

Your hands fly to his hair, steadying yourself with two fist fulls of the brown tufts that sit atop his head. You’ve always been curious if Logan styles his hair this way on purpose, or if it just grows like that naturally. You don't have time to ponder it for long before he's letting out another ragged groan and burying his face between your thighs.

You can feel the heat of his breath over the clothed expanse of your cunt, his nose trailing along the inseam of your sweats as he inhales greedy lungfuls of your scent.

"Logan," you gasp, voice gone high and breathy around the edges.

"Tell me what you want," he says lowly, his lips brushing over you with every word.

It's muffled slightly, but the demand in his tone still sends a shock through you. Your grip on his hair tightens as your mind falls into a whirl of sensations and emotions you couldn't possibly confront.

He presses a heated kiss against the fabric of your sweats, right over where your aching clit pulses with need. The sensation sends an electric jolt straight through your core. Your whole body hums with an intense craving, a need that burns hot and fierce.

"Tell me," he repeats, his voice a rough rasp that vibrates against your core.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as you try to form a coherent thought, let alone speak.

"I want..." you start, your voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and desire. The words are there, lodged in your throat, but saying them out loud feels like crossing a line you’re not sure you’re ready to cross.

"I need you,” you breathe out, the confession slipping from your lips like a secret finally set free “I need everything.”

Logan’s eyes flare with something fierce and wild. Without a word, he pulls you closer, his hands surging up to tear through the fabric of your clothes like it's nothing but tissue paper. The tattered remains of your panties and sweats pool to the floor in a crumpled mess.

The heat of his breath is replaced by the pressure of his mouth, his tongue sliding through the wet slit of your cunt. He lets out a filthy groan at the first real taste of you, the flat of his tongue lapping eagerly through your dripping slit.

The thrill of his mouth against your most sensitive spots sends a jolt through your entire body, your back arching taut as you grip his hair even tighter. Logan’s groan reverberates through you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat pooling in your core.

Logan is relentless, devouring you like he’s been starving for this, starving for you. The wet sounds of his mouth working you over mix with your breathless whimpers and the low growls rumbling from his chest. He works his tongue expertly, tracing every inch of you, mapping out every spot that makes you tremble and moan.

Your thighs tighten around his head, hips grinding against his face almost unintentionally as heat starts coiling tight in your belly. The scruff of his jaw rubs against the sensitive skin of your thighs with each drag of his head, the sting of it just adds to the assault of pleasure. You wish he could leave his mark on you, wish that your skin wouldn’t work overtime to fix the angry red blotches of raw skin he leaves in his wake.

Logan grips you hard enough that you can see the bruises decorating your skin every time you look down. His arms firm and strong where they’re locked around your thighs to keep you pressed against his mouth. His nose bumps against your throbbing clit each time he fucks his tongue into your leaking cunt.

“Logan,” you moan, your voice a breathy plea that only seems to spur him on. He flicks his tongue over your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a harsh pull that makes you cry out, your whole body shuddering with the intensity of it.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he murmurs against you, the words muffled by the slickness of your folds. “Could eat you all night.”

“Logan, I’m—” you start, but the words catch in your throat as he sucks hard on your clit, sending you careening over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, your entire body convulsing with the force of it as you cry out his name, your nails digging into his scalp as you hold on.

Logan doesn’t stop, doesn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. He licks you through your release, his mouth working you over with a single-minded intensity that has you writhing against him, overstimulated and desperate for more.

“Fuck, Logan, please,” you gasp, not even sure what you’re begging for, just knowing you need something, anything to ease the ache that’s still throbbing deep inside you.

Logan pulls back just enough to look up at you, the bottom of his face slick with your arousal, eyes dark with a hunger that matches your own. He licks his lips, savoring the taste of you.

Logan’s hands slide up your thighs, his touch gentle now but still impossibly firm. He trails his fingers along your skin, tracing the sensitive lines where your skin starts to heal the damage he left behind.

“Still with me?” he asks, his voice is softer than before but there’s still an unmistakable rough edge coating his words.

You nod, your voice barely a whisper as you try to collect yourself. “Yeah...I’m here.”

“Good,” he growls softly, his hands squeezing the sore skin of your hips. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You’re on your back in less than a second, Logan flipping your positions so fast it has your head spinning. His mouth crashes against yours, hot and desperate, all sharp teeth and bruising pressure. 

It’s a kiss that feels like a fight, like a challenge, like a promise of something much darker and more consuming just beneath the surface. His stubble scrapes against your skin, adding to the raw, visceral feeling of it all. Your teeth clack together violently, you can taste the faint coppery tang of blood on his lips. 

You kiss him back just as fiercely, pouring all the pent-up frustration, all the desire, all the fear and anger and need into the contact between you. Your hands are everywhere, clawing at his hair, his shoulders, his back—needing to feel him, to mark him, to claim him as yours in a way that’s as undeniable as the blood pulsing through your veins.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him to fill the ache that’s building inside you. Logan grinds against you, his hard cock still trapped in the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your spit soaked cunt. You can’t help the desperate whimper that escapes your throat. “Please, Logan,” you gasp out against his lips, your voice trembling with need. “Fuck me, I need it, please–.” 

He growls low in his throat, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “You sure you’re ready for this, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice rough, his breath hot against your skin. 

You nod frantically, your hips bucking up against him darkens the fabric tent of his bottoms. He feels huge, heavy and hot where he pushes against your slick folds. “Yes, please, just—” Logan doesn’t let you finish. 

With a swift, almost feral move, he pushes the hem of his sweats down roughly, the sound of seams ripping rings through the room. You barely have time to gasp before he’s pushing his cock into you, stretching you wide, filling you so completely that all you can do is cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he immediately sets a relentless pace. 

You don’t have any time to adjust to the thick length of his cock carving its way inside of you, the sting of it has your eyes screwed shut. It’s only barely straddling the knife's edge of where pain and pleasure meld together, but it has you crying out his name all the same. 

Logan fucking sounds identical to Logan fighting, guttural groans and growls that are ripped from somewhere deep in his chest to pierce through the air between you. That ring in your ears and shake through your very soul like thunder. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grates, his voice thick with lust as he holds himself still for a moment, eyes glued to where you’re stretched around him. The puffy, abused lips of your cunt slick with his spit and the pre-come steadily leaking from his dark red tip. “Feels like heaven, sweetheart.”

You moan, high and loud in the back of your throat as your ankles lock around his lower back. Your heels dig into the skin just above his ass as your cunt trembles around his cock, your spongy walls working over him desperately, milking him. 

“You like that don’t you?” Logan taunts, starting to snap his hips with purpose. “You like getting fucked like this, princess?” He leans down enough to growl directly into your ear, “I can smell how much you want it, how bad you're aching for it." 

He slides his hands up your sides, rough palms gliding over your sweat-slick skin as he continues, "You drive me fucking crazy, sweetheart. I can barely think straight with you on top of me, with your scent all over me. You know what you're doing, don’t you? Getting me all riled up like this."

You can’t respond, can’t speak. You can barely form a coherent thought, your lips falling open in a stream of desperate moans and whines as you bury your face in his neck.

The pulse of his carotid artery under your lips is maddening, each beat of his heart like a drum driving you further into madness. You want to sink your teeth into the skin there, to pull flesh and muscle from bone so you can watch the blood run in rivers and streams down Logan’s body.

The taste of him fresh and heady on your tongue as you watch the layers build back up from nothing, nerves and veins weaving themselves back together grotesquely.

“Fuck,” Logan groans, the sound vibrating through your mouth as you press your lips against his throat, your teeth scraping against his skin with barely restrained hunger.

You nip at his throat, your teeth leaving small indentations that fade almost as quickly as they appear. Logan’s breathing is ragged, his chest heaving with every shallow breath as he leans into your touch, his body taut with anticipation.

"Atta girl, that's it," he growls, voice thick with desire as his hands grip your hips even tighter, nails digging into your skin as he ruts into you like a beast. His hips snapping against yours hard enough to sting, the loud slap of it bouncing off the walls to echo lewdly in your ears.

He’s fucking you like he wants to break you, reinforced hips heavy as he pounds you into the floor mercilessly. “Taking my cock so well, best fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You can feel the way Logan’s cock jerks and pulses inside of you, the taut heaviness of his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. You know he’s close, the brutal rhythm of his hips gets sloppier by the second.

You press your body up against his, your chest flush with his own as your hands wander over the hard planes of his back, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his skin. You dig your nails into his shoulder blades roughly, basking in the way his muscles roll and flex underneath your greedy palms.

You can feel the heat radiating from him, the pulsing glow of his blood under your fingertips as you explore every inch of him with a hunger that’s almost feral. 

And then, with a low, guttural sound that you barely recognize as your own, you sink your teeth into his neck.

Logan’s reaction is immediate and visceral. His entire body tenses above you, a sharp hiss escaping his lips as you bite down, hard enough to draw blood. The taste of him floods your mouth, metallic and rich, and it sends a wave of heat crashing through you.

You can feel his blood on your tongue, warm and thick, the taste of it driving you wild. It’s everything you’ve been craving, everything you’ve been trying to resist. And now that you’ve finally given in, it’s like a dam has broken inside you.

Logan’s growl is pure animal, his hips bucking up hard as he thrusts into you one last time, burying his cock as deep in you as he can. The force of his orgasm rips through him, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he unloads inside of you. It’s so much, pulse after pulse of hot come that floods your insides. His hips don’t slow, still pumping and fucking like he’s trying to stuff you as full of himself as he can.

The feeling of it pushes you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing over you in a wave of white-hot pleasure that leaves you gasping and trembling above him. Your shaking cunt gushes over his cock as you swallow the blood pooling on your tongue.

Logan’s hips finally still, slotting flush with yours as he slumps onto the floor next to you, dragging you along with him so you can lay flat on his chest. The coarse hair scattered along his pecs scratches the skin of your cheek, you bury your face in the sweaty crook of his neck. You feel hazy, like you’re floating through the air, completely weightless. 

You think you could live here, plastered to the strong planes of Logan’s body, stuffed full of his cock and leaking his come in messy trails down your shaking thighs. 

But eventually, you have to pull back, your breath coming in short bursts as you lick the blood from your lips. Logan’s eyes are on you, shining under the chandelier light, his chest heaving with the effort of breathing. The wound on his neck is already healing, the skin knitting itself back together, but the blood still stains his skin red, a vivid reminder.

There’s a moment of silence, the air between you thick with tension and something else—something new and unspoken. You’re both panting, bodies still trembling with adrenaline.

Logan’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips, smearing the remnants of his blood across your skin. His eyes are locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.

Finally, he reaches down slowly, like you’re a cornered animal that might turn and run any second. He takes your wrist in his hand, dragging it from the middle of his chest to the muscle directly over his heart. He presses your palm flat against him, blanketing your hand with his own.

“What do you feel,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a breath.

The question catches you off guard. It’s a challenge, but it’s also an invitation—a chance to confront whatever’s swirling inside you instead of running away from it. You hesitate, searching for the right words to encapsulate the storm of emotions you feel thrumming through your bones.

"You," you whisper back, your palm sliding over the sweaty plain of his bare chest. "All I feel is you."

Logan’s eyes soften, and a rare, genuine smile tugs at the corners of his lips. The intensity of the moment seems to dissolve, leaving a quiet understanding between you. He leans in, his breath warm against your cheek, and you can feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a tender caress against your ear. His thumb brushes along your pulse in a feather light touch. “That makes two of us.”

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