#and yet you can clearly see the emotion in them
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✏️ sociology major!junhui x reader.
your roommate junhui has a habit of using his major on you ✶ part of my svt university milestone event
⤿ friendship, fluff, and they were roommates!!!, an academic paper for the hc. more content under the cut. ♡⸝⸝ prompt from @ore-pheus!
The Sociology of Love, Julia Carter Annotations by Wen Junhui
Love is interesting sociologically for so many reasons... It is a word that is used prolifically to mean so much, which means it is incredibly difficult to define and study. Love is interesting because it is everywhere and has a significant impact on our culture, society and lives, and yet we can know relatively little about what it actually means. Love is not something we can ‘know’- we have to investigate how it is represented socially and culturally. (Carter, 2015)
ANNOTATION: Carter positions love as an all-encompassing yet unknowable emotion. At the risk of sounding cocky, I don't think that love is particularly difficult to understand or find. This is simply because of recognition.
I recognize love. It's in the care and consideration of my parents. It's in the brotherhood of my friendships. It's in my roommate, who tolerates my incessant questions, who lets me get away with almost everything, whose fondness for me is sometimes more than what I deserve.
Love is everywhere. Carter is correct in that regard. It's simply a matter of seeing it, of calling it as it is, of spelling it out. Otherwise, we might spend the rest of our lives trying to justify our cowardice behind the guise of love as a 'mystery'.
So why does love have such power? Whether a private emotion, organising institution, normative expression, commodity, societal glue or legitimating ideology, love is clearly an important concept to understand and interrogate in modern society. (Carter, 2015)
ANNOTATION: Sociologically, the word 'power' is thrown around too lightly. Carter's implication that love is equivalent to power can be dangerous, because I am of the firm belief that it's not the emotion that wields the power; it's the person.
Love, on its own, is just an intense feeling of deep affection. The question then because: What do people in love do? Some shy away from it. Some run. I've found myself taking it day by day. Love has me learning. Love has me listening. Whether I act on it or not is indicative of my own power, and not the power the emotion may/may not have over me.
There's discussion to be made about how love can render one 'powerless', but it all falls on the individual. We are only as good as the loves that we act on.
There was, however, evidence from my research to support the normative notion that love should be romantic, once-occurring and lifelong... suggesting that ‘real’ love should only be experienced once and this should not come to an end. (Carter, 2015)
ANNOTATION: Once again, I find myself unable to agree with Carter's findings. Love as a lifelong feeling or commitment is understandable, but the notion of it being 'once-occurring' is significantly flawed on two counts. First, there is the manner of which it discounts romantic relationships and how they shape how we are. To love and lose someone does not mean you loved them any less or, in this case, did not love them at all to begin with. It is a disservice to downplay our own emotions just to subscribe to the credo of a 'one true love'.
Alternatively: I find myself falling in love with the same person over, and over, and over again. I have fallen in love with them on our walks home. I have fallen in love with them first thing in the morning, when they're bleary-eyed and can barely finish brushing their teeth. I have fallen in love with them even when there was distance between us— on long breaks, where they're the person I think of during the first snow of the year.
And so Carter is only half-right. Love is romantic. Love can be lifelong. But it has not happened to me only once.
... love has become a quiet, private project for couples in a society that worships coupledom and romance. (Carter, 2015)
ANNOTATION: While I have spent majority of this paper arguing against Carter's sociological view of love, I find myself wholly agreeing with her at least on this point. I'm often described as an outgoing and loud individual. For the most part, I thought that should I ever encounter romance, I would view it the same way.
But I've found love in the quiet moments. Bowls of breakfast cereal. Midnight trips to the convenience store. A shitty Netflix romcom playing in the background as the two of us cram essays.
If this love is only ever mine, ours— if no one else is ever made privy to our shared affection and all the rituals that come with it— then so be it. It will be enough for me. This will be more than enough for me.
#junhui x reader#jun x reader#jun smau#junhui smau#jun imagines#junhui imagines#jun fluff#junhui fluff#── ᵎᵎ ✦ milestone event: svt uni#── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#svt smau#seventeen smau#[ OH. OH THIS BEAT ME UP ]#[ 'any plans of coming home TO ME' and i blacked out ]#[ i miss junhui so bad. bring him back to me please pelase please ]
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I've been waiting to really have some time to type out my thoughts about the Ody3, and now I have managed to sneak away, so here you go.
Doctor Odyssey is not being presented as a love triangle, but instead as a throuple. A basic tenet of polyamory for a lot of people is: one person cannot meet all my emotional and physical needs.
And to be crystal clear, that's also something the show has expressly outlined. The captain said it. Out loud. About a throuple. So it's not like this is unintentional.
With that, here's why this throuple story is balanced and conveying clearly that they each meet separate and important emotional needs (physically they've all said it was awesome so let's assume the sex is good)
Avery - Avery is an interesting character because she is very smart and largely defines herself by academic accomplishments. In fact, she is considering med school but doesn't have a burning need to be a doctor. She just feels like it's what she should do. This wars with her nature to pursue pleasure. She wants to see the world. She isn't interested in settling down. And she has a fear of commitment that stems from being hurt while envisioning a future where she has "fixed" herself and has kids and a spouse. She also froze her eggs, which takes commitment, but didn't say kids as her bucket lost goal.
Tristan - Tristan is all heart. He's touchy and feels deeply and openly and unapologetically. He openly loves, appreciates being wanted, and tbh is a himbo (honorific). He also is terrified of being left because of his mother who love bombed and abandoned him over and over again. He craves something stable while also being absolutely terrified of getting it and either losing it or losing his taste for it. He wants kids but isn’t willing to risk his heart unless he knows his partner is all in on him which is basically an impossibility at the front end of a relationship.
Max - Max is smart and he knows it. He loves learning new things with an enthusiasm most people don't appreciate. But that's both an attribute and a drawback for him because Max hides behind his knowledge when he's scared or hurt. Rather than be vulnerable, he falls into a pattern of professionalism and authority (earned or not). He longs to let his hair down, but stepping out of his self-imposed role is terrifying.
So knowing all that, let's look at them ttogether.
Max and Avery - these two absolutely thrive in an academic or cerebral challenge. They challenge each other and push each other intellectually. They are attracted to the other in part by those sexy brains. But they have no idea how to cross the divide on an emotional level. Avery has no clue how to tease Max out of his rigid walls (something she seems to acknowledge when asking Tristan to help with the throuple idea). And Max also can't figure that out. Also, Max encourages Avery's instinct to define herself by academic achievements (not purposely so much as because they are too alike here)
Max and Tristan - Max and Tristan have similar life goals but it's the way they connect emotionally that is the key to the balance for both characters. Tristan can reach Max, like he did in the mid season finale. He breaks the ice around Max's heart. Max, meanwhile, gives Tristan and stability and maturity he craves. And Max feels like he's a constant. He may retreat behind his walls and rules, but you get the feeling that if he lets that guard down, he would be a steady partner.
Avery and Tristan - these two like each other. They're close. They care about each other. Yet they didn't find a space without Max. I think it's because they are both too prone to having fun (Avery) and running away from commitment (both of them). Tristan has historically held Avery up as an idea while not seeing the person. Avery has either dismissed Tristan or recognized she isn't willing to give him the steady commitment he craves. They are GREAT for each other. They care about each other and support each other and connect so well. But neither of them is in a space where a healthy relationship can form on their own.
When you put them all together, you start to see both how they fulfill certain needs in each other but also how they fill in the gaps. No pairing stands alone. It's unbalanced. But together, they work so well.
Interestingly, we're shown that. They are best when they are together and on the same page. Things feel unbalanced when they aren't on screen together. Even when they work well together one on one, eventually coming together as a triad is like an emotional home base for them.
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Ziam is real, climb on board
For the first time, we’re experiencing a genuine influx of people looking into Ziam, the real relationship between Zayn and Liam. And honestly it’s about time. It’s always been so beautiful and devoted and consistent and visible to those willing to invest and find out for themselves. It’s also been so unseen and dismissed and a bit buried by Larry too. I’m a Larry too, but right now I’m all about Ziam. I’m really happy Ziam is getting there deserved time seeing some light.
I’m not here to convince anyone. Ziam isn’t new, it has been around and discussed and real since 2012 when we believe their relationship started extending beyond friendship. There is an existing treasure trove that can be sought out by people willing to open their mind and examine it, especially from Zayn and Liam themselves. Right from the start and up until present day.
The truth is we are experiencing a moment we weren’t expecting. First with Liam’s death. Now with Zayn touring for the first time ever as a solo artist.
People are interested in Liam and that is a normal reaction. People are noticing a lot of things that don’t make sense and are curious and questioning that. People can’t make sense about his relationship with his “girlfriend”, the public PR performance at his funeral of a select group of celebrities (all aligned with Modest, Simon Jones PR or existing narratives regarding the boys) and of course the narrative around his “son” Bear.
Usually when things don’t make sense, there is a good reason, we know this with Larry too, and so in the same way people should look and critically engage. Gaps can’t always be filled when we are dealing with public media narratives that then clearly don’t align with who a person really is consistently as a human. It's pretty hard work for all involved to contain a decades plus closet, in times like this. That is a big part of what people are noticing with Liam. They should question public narratives and media. Liam wanted to be seen and heard for who he really was, and celebrating and talking about Ziam right now is one of the biggest parts of seeing and knowing Liam. Its not disrespectful if you've done the work to see and know, just like with Larry.
Now we also finally have Zayn touring for the first time ever as a solo artist. Seeing him on stage after a 10 year wait is kind of exhilarating and like any of the boys you get a reminder on stage of who the person really is, really leaning in and hearing the lyrics live and seeing his being. Zayn is very definitely coding to us in a way that he hasn’t been able to do so before. He knew we would be looking and he wants to be seen. He is literally telling us that he is honest and truthful in his music. Zayn’s public narrative has never made sense either, it's all the same closeting stuff. Copy of a copy of a copy.
The narrative set up for Room Under the Stairs was actually quite strange, and in reality it translates very poorly to the lyrics and the emotions. So many gaps and things that don't make sense. In the future I will share some analysis on RUTS. I’ve been immersed in the album non-stop since May. The album to me is mostly about his closet - the pain it has caused him, the effect it has had on his relationship, the pain and effect it has had on his long term partner, the ways in which he has had to reframe his mindset to live within the reality of his closet, the ways he has changed his lifestyle to focus on the simple things in life to help his mental health impacted by his closet (and other things). Yet throughout all that heartbreaking pain, he still talks about his person, his lover, he refers to 'they' in many key lyrics, he brings his partner into the lyrics clearly, lyrics that clearly refer back to past and present times. Its the same person, it always has been in Zayn's lyrics. He tells them and us that he wouldn’t change anything despite all that pain, that their love has been worth it, that he is devoted, that their love was like stardust from the start until forever. The most specific songs relating to his person haven't been included on the tour setlist - How it Feels, The Time, False Starts, Something in the Water and of course Stardust. They are the strongest songs on the album, the ones that have made me cry non-stop for the last 6 months. I suspect he rearranged the setlist, they would have been too hard to sing live. Instead we see a few B sides we wouldn't have expected on tour. I hope more people will listen to RUTS, it's absolutely devastating, empowering and life affirming and you can really see and feel who Zayn is.
Enjoy your Ziam journey if you decide to take it.
#ziam#ziam mayne#ziam is real#one direction#larry#larry stylinson#stts tour#stairway to the sky tour#zayn#zayn malik#liam payne
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hyunjin's artwork for his new song,, he's so talented it's insane
#the hands brought up to the ears as if to muffle the sound of his thoughts#since it's all so contradicting and confusing and chaotic#the butterfly replacing the upper half of his face#hopefully flying away and allowing him to fade away#i love how the eyes are drawn as part of the butterfly's wings#and yet you can clearly see the emotion in them#the sadness mostly#WHY IS THIS SONG SO SAD WHO HURT HIMM WHOOOOOOOOO
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I think the most baffling thing about the Tulpar as a vessel to me is the fact that the ship really did only have a one way communication system.
I know it was cheap but even the most basic of vessels regarding major transport would have some way, shape or form for outside communication. Not only that but there was absolutely no form of innate emergency signal to show they may have been offline or in trouble despite clearly having a system to dock credits if they went off course. It's another factor that really shows that bad situations are made to get worse by design. One person who is required to relay all information to the crew and make all the choices without feedback. No way to update or call for help in case of a dire situation. No way to inform of inner personal conflicts and acquire procedures accordingly.
It really is like they are all in some sort of fucked up solitary confinement. They have their own world with strict roles that are meaningless in the end, as long as the cargo makes it, it doesn't matter what happens on that ship to the company. They don't want to hear anything and will come to conclusions on what happened based on how much pay they can withhold from the workers. Even what they do send is short, sterile and corporate to the extent it was likely written and sent out with a command by some random unmanned computer in an office.
There's something to be said about how unfair it is to force absolute power and control onto one person when you as an entity could do so much more to offload it but I've said it many times before so I won't again.
#its just like idk i dont think Curly was a bad captain because we only have this scenerio and I certainly dont think a man like Swansea#would like him or have very little issues with him specifically if he was incompentent or too lienent in the past but I do think the stress#was making him worse and worse as being a present leader as it dawned on him how much he actually had to handle like I really think he#just wanted to do yknow normal captain pilot stuff and fly the ship and yknow the little stuff like make sure things run right and over tim#the constant stress and strain of having to make every major choice started to grate on him and freak him out cause they cant even fucking#eat unless he pulls out the scanner and starts cooking like he has to choose the meal likely or have a vote and i make that part of the#reason he seems so indecisive and inactive is the fact he has to make the choice all the time and he's hoping he can at least make the crew#feel a little more in control of themselves as people by staying out of affairs like the game or disputes because god he literally has to#choose for them all the time like thats a lot of responsibility monitering their sleep their breaks food consumption thats all on him like#it really should be another persons job entirely as thats almost like absoulte contrl over the lives of everyone else that PE forces onto#that title and its also crazy how everyone accepts it even if they dont like it like they broke the food machine open rather than get the#scanner they all waited two months before Jimmy appointed himself leader its so scary how conditioned they all are to the environemnt#cause that sort of mindset is sadly real where people just wait everyone just waited until it was getting real dire and then they still#followed Jimmy without too many complaints like i saw a fic or post where Anya acknowledges they all kinda just let Jimmy do what they want#because he became the captain and it was stupid on all their parts cause they could clearly see how bad he was and yet he was captain so#they just fell in line to their roles and thats a bigger point towards how PE treated them and the complacency capitalism brings to you#just like something that irks me because idk I know Curly is slow to act but he's not as like unopinionated as people make him out to be#like he does try to find solutions but they are still restricted at the end of the day by what PE provides them and I think his biggest c#crime is being in his own head too much and not giving Anya that emotional stability cause like idk man was he supposed to go to Home Depot#himself and install like padlocks? even if the let Anya sleep in medical after she pointed it out she was already pregnant at that point#like we arent seeing the inherent issue that no one not even Anya herself was thinking of the preventative measures because a)there was a#point nothing was happening that necessitated them b) it would've been the responsibility of PE to address them pre and post incident and c#there is only one person on the entire ship given the authority to do anything. You can not make multiple important choices in one instance#in such little time and Curly should not have had that total power like i think the most interesting thing in takes that really blame Curly#is that level of control they give him over the company. Like again i think about the three days we miss between the eval/party and the#convo/crash like i think people switch them around as if those scenes happen in succession when they are broken up and its heavily implied#Curly and Jimmy just havent been talking vs the depiction that she told him and for like three days Curly was just chummy despite the fact#Jimmy and him just had a blow out fight like the next time we assume they talk is during the crash sequence cause he honestly hangs#around Anya more which i think is really important because she trust Curly to defend her himself but not his judgement to give her somethin#to defend herself as she knows he believes her but also knows she's not seeing the danger the same and its heartbreaking and more
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honestly. it's so fucking frustrating and disheartening. that the only thing making me hesitant to cleanly cut contact with my mom, the thing that still looms after cutting away from my dad........ is that when they both finally bite it, that's two houses to sell. that's money that may mean *i* get to have my own house someday.
the key to the security my parents failed to give me from the moment i was born lies in their deaths. the least they can do. the very fucking *least* is to leave me the means to build that security on my own. they owe me so much more than that, but realistically? that small act of restitution is all i can and will ask for.
until then? i want nothing to do with them.
#the comments of the article i'm reading involves people discussing their reasons for not going no contact with both parents#one of which being that they're not ready to be an orphan yet#and fuck. i know it's more complicated than this but. i've *always* been an orphan#i've wanted to let my parents go for a very long time#it took longer to do my due dilligence in giving my mom eight million chances but. those chances have come and gone#i don't want to do the work to whittle down our interactions. i don't think our relationship is worth carving it down to 'we can talk for 20#minutes once a month about light topics only. i don't want to hear about your sisters or my dad again thanks'#i get nothing out of that#i feel like now that i've Made Up My Mind (finally. it took so fucking long 😢) i'm obligated to give her one last chance#after outlining the New Rules#but she's an adult. as one commenter said '[s]he was always capable of respecting you.'#my mom is an adult. for all the work she's done on herself#she could've caught on that benting about her sisters every time we talk is not an appropriate topic of conversation#she could have noticed all the times i tried to interrupt her when she was here. not even to interrupt her to stop her from talking but#interrupting her so i could PARTICIPATE in the conversation#she is an ADULT and she is capable of looking at our interactions and seeing that they need improvement#there are certain boundaries that polite well adjusted people do not need to deliberately express to expect to have them respected#my mother is responsible for identifying those boundaries and that work. no i can't expect her to read my mind and intuit my boundaries#without me saying so. but i CAN expect her to ask my consent before discussing heavy topics. i CAN expect her to be self aware enough to#allow me to participate in conversations with her#i CAN expect her to manage her emotions to not be a volatile monster just waiting to trauma dump or explode#it is not my responsibility to teach her basic interpersonal decency#and i don't need to give her the eight million and one'th chance to prove she can be respectful this time#she was always capable of respecting me. she just chose not to#venting her feelings and being in her triggers is more important to her#and i sincerely hope she'll stay tangled in those feelings and not bring out the gaslighty 'i'll do anything to keep you in my life!!!!!!'#because. clearly. she will not.#she was always capable of respecting me. and emotional manipulation is not a part of that#personal#i just want to get my parents dying over with so i can afford a down payment on a fucking house
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Omg could we see reader getting jealous of Sukuna having sec with his other concubines? And maybe liek the other concubine rubs it in readers face?
𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. angst (no comfort), suggestive \\ smut aspects. size difference. one tiny mention of reader being a crybaby. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’ \\ kuna’s an asshole! not proofread, excuse the grammar. no part 2. wc: 3.3k
you’ve been away from the estate for three days; three days too long for the king of curses. so much had happened while you were away to take some well deserved rest—a small vacation that sukuna had granted you because you needed it.
perhaps that was his first mistake. giving you permission to leave his side ended up being a bad decision. he hates that faint feeling in his chest, the feeling of missing something.
missing someone.
it couldn’t be. sukuna doesn’t have any weaknesses, and yet he can feel his body reacting to that unfamiliar emotion again. all because of you— that one human who always succeeds to occupy his mind.
he couldn’t let himself succumb to it—he’s not going to. sukuna is not going to let a mere human like you deter him from his superior identity that he’s had for decennia. he’s not going to let you have that power over him and his body.
and thus, when you return to the estate, you find yourself being laughed at. you were unpacking your luggage when two concubines stand at your doorway, hiding their evil smiles behind their handheld fans.
they don’t waste a single second and immediately rush to ruin your carefree mood.
“you know, you shouldn’t have returned at all,” the brunette giggles, her laugh sounding like nails scraping against a chalkboard. she looks to the other woman next to her before glancing back at you, “i mean—heh—lord sukuna definitely didn’t seem to mind your absence.”
you figure it’s just another way to get you riled up, so you do your best to ignore them. you put your packed kimonos in your wardrobe as your back faces the two.
yumi, the second concubine, nods along. she knows what she’s about to reveal will get on your nerves. and deserved, if you ask her. they had successfully caught the attention of their king while you were away. for the first time in a good while since your arrival in the estate.
the fact that they managed to spend quality time with sukuna again, is a wonderful first step to your downfall. one that will surely crumble your confidence as his so-called ‘favorite’.
“mhm,” yumi grins as she recalls the memories of her time with sukuna. time spent together that you were unaware of, “lord sukuna definitely didn’t seem to mind your absence when he had me in his bed last night.”
you freeze.
your brows furrow and the corners of your lips twitch. you don’t know if you should believe them—they could’ve lied about it for all you know. although, the voice in the back of your head had already rang the alarms.
guessing by the way they were dying to talk to you the second you came back - which never happens - you realise that they’re probably telling the truth. they’re only telling the truth to agitate you. it’s so painfully obvious, and yet so. . . hurtful.
“what?”
you don’t recall when you’ve choked up. you feel a lump in your throat. it shouldn’t even be there. you promised yourself to not get attached to a monster like sukuna.
so what if he went to bed with his other concubines?
but of course he’ll get pleasure from his other women when you aren’t around. he doesn’t feel any love, he sees it as worthless, so why did you expect him to not indulge himself? he still has his other concubines around for a reason.
you really shouldn’t be surprised by this revelation.
“what do you mean ‘what?’ - you heard me,” yumi shrugs, that cocky smirk still on her face. she’s clearly enjoying your reaction to everything she’s revealing. all the two concubines wanted to get out of this encounter with you, is to break that delusion of yours.
the delusional thought that you’re special to the king of curses—the delusion that sukuna considers you as something more than a toy to emotionally manipulate and play with until he’s tired of you.
“my lord spent all night with me in his chambers until the sun rose,” yumi continues without an ounce of shame. she bites her lip as she remembers the way sukuna had her body positioned on his large bed. for her, it was a dream come true.
though for you, it’s a living nightmare. even if you try to deny the fact that it physically and mentally hurts. there’s a painful twist at your heart—reminding you of the truth.
the truth being that you had truly thought that sukuna wasn’t really a monster of a man. you thought he was a different, more softer person around you.
you should’ve listened to the servants when they told you to not get tricked by sukuna’s special treatment, that he could easily manipulate you and make you do and act as he pleases.
“do you want me to explain it in detail?” yumi crosses her arms over her chest as she looks down at you with a menacing glare. both of the concubines are loving that face you’re making. that face of defeat that you’re attempting to hide from them, “how he held me and pleasured me until i—”
“enough,” you cut them off with your hands clenched into fists. you don’t want to hear another word. you’re already feeling awful; already, not even an hour into your return. you can never catch a break.
you have an urge to throw things around. you already feel stupid, and if you decide to throw a fit, you bet that you’d feel even dumber. you truly do not know why you’re getting this worked up about it.
maybe it’s because of the special treatment. the delusional thoughts you have about your relationship with sukuna. you really thought that you two had something special. an unofficial romantic relationship, perhaps, or something that resembles it.
a secret, unspoken deal where you’re promised his loyalty in exchange for your body and soul.
although, those dreams have been shattered this very instance. you’re once again reminded of the animalistic nature of the being called ryomen sukuna.
he told you clearly that he’d never tie himself to someone, a human no less. devotion to one person? why would he.
“out of the way.”
you push the brunette and her sidekick the other way. you’re going to confront the man yourself. or at least, you’ll try to. you can hear their sick laughs and chuckles fade into the background as you stomp your way towards sukuna’s chambers.
the other concubines seem to have gotten the gist. some peek their heads out of their rooms, grinning at you in victory. seeing your confidence slowly crumble and the realisation kick in - the realisation that your dear lord’s special treatment means absolutely nothing - is a sight for sore eyes to them.
you enter sukuna’s room and close the heavy doors behind you. you swallow the lump down your throat and try your best to look presentable.
no tears, you promise yourself. you’re not going to waste them on something like this.
“oh, it’s you, little one,” the familiar voice calls out. sukuna’s low and husky voice rings from his bed. he’s laid back against the many silky pillows, blowing smoke from his kiseru. he lays there like he doesn’t care about your reappearance at all.
he eyes you up and down, “how was your vacation, hm?”
sukuna asks like it’s the most normal thing to do. it seems like he’s trying to catch up with you, to ask you how you’ve been enjoying your time alone, though it also seems like he couldn’t care less at the same time.
“just absolutely fine, my lord,” you reply with gritted teeth and an obvious hint of sarcasm. there’s also a bitterness to your tone that doesn’t go unnoticed by the pink-haired man. he frowns—this cold greeting is not what he expected nor what he wanted to hear from your mouth. he expected you to at least smile at him like you usually do, but you didn’t.
on top of that, you seemed to be annoyed with him. that unexpected attitude of yours made something inside of him snap. it irritated him somehow; the fact that you’re so comfortable talking to him like that . . . it reminded him of the recent inner conflict he had which you were the cause of.
one of his hands tightens into a fist at his side. his jaw clenches and his eyes narrow into slits. you’re physically in front of him, which means that he’s also about to experience those complicated feelings again. the same ones he tried fleeing from by letting you go on a break, and by physically taking his mind off you.
he did the latter by taking his frustrations out on his other women. the stress that came with the thought of him possibly liking a human, relieved by pure animalistic sex.
that’s exactly what you’re upset about.
there’s an urge inside of sukuna to act normal. to ignore those difficult emotions and just treat you like he usually does. yet, another part of him is trying to protect his sense of superiority by trying to push you away.
there’s a war going on in his mind as he tries to calm himself down. you’ve always had this effect on him and it’s becoming unbearable. he has to show you, no - remind you, that you’re nothing to him. you mean nothing—nothing at all.
he’s the king of curses, you’re but a human. he’ll need to remind himself of that obvious statement as well. he’s got all the power in this situation. not you.
you cannot rule over him or his mind.
“you dare come back with an attitude? tch,” sukuna scoffs, nearly breaking the kiseru with his fingers as they squeeze around the solid material. he’s turning off whatever emotion present in his body. that doesn’t belong there anyway. he won’t care if you cry—he won’t care at all.
you notice the sudden change in sukuna’s tone as well. you’re sure you’re the reason for it. perhaps you crossed a boundary with how sassily you replied to him when he was simply asking you how your vacation went.
“my apologies,” you murmur with a sigh. you try to avoid getting on sukuna’s nerves any further, yet when you remember the words from the concubine, how she implied that sukuna had given her the best night of her life when you were away, you get mad again.
your eyes have a fiery look in them. you don’t want to get worked up. you don’t have the right to. you were warned from the very beginning to not get attached to an asshole like ryomen sukuna.
you’re to blame for feeling like this. it could’ve been prevented if you just weren’t so weak. if you just stayed away from him.
“did you have fun while i was away, my lord?” you continue, your voice shaking a little. you need the confirmation. you’re sure sukuna knows what you’re referring to by now, especially because of the way you’re acting out of character.
the king of curses raises a brow at your question. you sound even angrier, even more pissed off. he tilts his head after taking a deep inhale of the tobacco from his kiseru. he tries to figure out what you’re hinting at, “what are you—”
and that’s when everything fell into place. the dots connect.
sukuna’s jaw clenches. he realises that you’ve found out about him receiving services from his other concubines while you were away. there could be no other explanation behind your sudden attitude. besides, he knows how his other concubines could be. they must have told you the moment you came back.
normally, he’d say that it’s none of your business. what he does is up to him—he does not care about the consequences of his actions. though, seeing the slight hurt in your eyes, mixed with sadness and disappointment stirred something inside of him. he brushes that feeling away and stares at you intently, awaiting another comment. perhaps you’d cuss him out or bawl your eyes out in front of him.
either way, he promises himself that he won’t care.
sukuna is the king of curses. feeling bad for a human like you would only further tarnish his image, that image of superiority and power he has.
he’s a man of many needs. you should’ve kept that in mind when you left him. he wanted to keep you with him—to hold you down and refuse to let you leave—but that would be another sign of weakness. one sukuna could not manage to show.
when you departed, he was irritated by the fact that he had no one to turn to with his needs. from simple needs like wanting your company to sexual needs like craving your body.
keeping you by his side or letting you go; both decisions seem to clash. either way, there’s one thing he’s sure of, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it: he missed you.
sukuna can’t believe that he can feel an emotion like that. he can’t accept that fact. that’s why his irrational mind took over—his dark urges that strived to prove himself to still be the same old ryomen sukuna. the monster that did not need a single soul. the ruthless man that did not depend on anyone else, especially not a human. a woman like you.
he thought he’d forget all about you if he’s surrounded himself with other women. but, he was quick to be proven wrong, and that only caused to enrage him more and more.
every time sukuna fucked a concubine, his thoughts still manage to drift away to you. to how he wished that it was you he was holding.
nothing hit the same with the other women and that frustrated him. he’d keep them around in his room after he fucked their brains out, something he never allowed a woman to do except for you, yet kicked them out again after a few minutes.
it doesn’t hit the same.
you’re just different. your presence is soothing and calming to the chaotic soul of the pink-haired man. no one else could compare. that realisation made him feel inferior; a feeling he loathes.
sukuna’s red eyes glow. he hates seeing you look so defeated, but he cannot give in. if he tells you the truth, he’ll admit his weakness. he’ll admit that a human like you has completely taken over his brain. that’s no good.
if he doesn’t tell you the truth, he’ll save face. he’ll feel like himself again. his old self—the cold ruthless monster that he was before he met you. one without a soft spot for a human.
it’s an active dilemma that’s running through his mind as he slowly blows out another cloud of smoke. you cannot guess what’s going on behind those intimidating eyes staring you down.
sukuna tilts his head back and scratches his neck, smacking his lips as he makes his decision.
“yeah, i did. i had lots of fun.”
the words sting. they hurt you and make your heart ache in a way that makes you physically weak. you should’ve expected that answer. your shoulders tense up and your fingers curl around the material of your kimono—feeling a sense of anger and betrayal.
you can see a ghost of a smirk on sukuna’s lips, which only reminds you of his nature. his nature as an independent, aloof and cold man who likes to play with his prey. a natural disaster that knows no emotion, that shows no mercy to anyone.
you’re naive for thinking that you could be the exception. all of those times with sukuna were confirmed to be but a lie in that moment. as your gazes meet, you can now easily interpret what that look in those red eyes meant.
‘know your place,’
that’s what it means. you’re foolish, dumb. you take a deep breath to compose yourself after you’ve been made out to be a total fool. you should’ve listened to those warnings, you should’ve known that you were getting played.
this is exactly what sukuna desired to achieve. to build up your trust, to make you comfortable enough with him, to think you’re special and that he won’t need any other woman other than you — just to shatter your pathetic delusions when the time comes.
“tsk tsk. no need to look at me like that,” sukuna scoffs, a mocking laugh leaving his lips. he can hear a small voice in the back of his head telling him to shut up and let you go, to not make it worse, but who is he to listen to that irrelevant thought? he can decide for himself.
“y’ weren’t around, so the other concubines simply did their job by serving me,” he stares the other way, seemingly not interested by your presence anymore. his face is as expressionless as ever, “what do y’ think i keep them ‘round for, brat? for decoration purposes? hah, nah.”
another loud mocking laugh makes you nearly burst out in tears. you don’t know if it’s in anger or sadness. you take a deep, shaky breath for the last time. you unclench your fists and nod, accepting the reality check you’d just gotten.
it’s a slap to the face, but it helped you get out of your delusions. the delusions that sukuna is a man capable of loving someone, even if it is just for a tiny bit. this visit confirmed that there’s not an ounce of love or appreciation in that man’s body.
“i’m glad you had fun, my lord,” you answer after a bit of silence. you bow at sukuna in an attempt to stay polite while struggling with that inner turmoil. you don’t even glance up at him anymore. you need another break already.
sukuna isn’t dumb. you may think that you’re good at hiding your emotions, but you’re not. at least not around the king of curses. he’s spent enough time around you to realise that you’re going through a lot right now.
he’s the reason for it, yet he cannot bring himself to feel an ounce of empathy. he just looks at you with a blank stare, thinking that this is for the best.
“good night then,” you add and turn around to walk out of sukuna’s room. your steps are slow as you secretly hope to be called back, like sukuna would do every time you’d leave his room after an intimate night. you just want him to tell you that this was a test of some sort—a cruel joke.
you want to feel like his favorite again. you don’t want to be thrown away like this. you don’t want to be on the same level as all the other concubines. you want to stand out to him.
unfortunately, you don’t hear sukuna’s voice anymore. he lets you walk away without a care in the world. the heavy doors of his chambers close behind you and you feel your knees buckle. “fuck,” you cuss to yourself and clench your chest.
you lean back against the closed doors and try to regain your composure. crying can be done when you’re in your room—not in the hallway where anyone could catch you. you don’t want to give the other concubines more reason to bully you.
you drag your feet across the wooden flooring. all those times with sukuna, all those slight glimpses of his soft side that only you’re allowed to see— all of that is thrown into the trash.
you really shouldn’t have gotten so attached to him on an emotional level.
meanwhile, sukuna is silently sitting on his bed, thinking back to what just happened. he usually never doubts his decisions, but this is an exception. why couldn’t he just tell you the truth?
his mouth had moved before he could let his mind process all that he was feeling. a small part of him regrets it, though strangely, he couldn’t feel any real sympathy for your situation.
sukuna drapes an arm over his eyes, clicking his tongue at himself. he just wants to let the situation go, though his brain isn’t letting him to. the image of you standing at the edge of his bed, clearly hurt by his actions, flashes through his mind again.
he sighs. he’s sure that he’s going to forget about you soon enough. he needed an excuse to get rid of you for the sake of regaining control over his own being and he took the chance. he should be glad that he did—it meant that he’d be his usual self—with no weaknesses to look out for.
sukuna blows out another cloud of smoke through his mouth. as much as he’s proud of himself for not giving in to you, he can’t help but let his thoughts wander again. you’re probably crying in your room. he knows you’re sensitive. you would always cry about the smallest of things and he’d hold you (feigning reluctance) until you’ve calmed down.
he can’t do that now.
well, he can, but he won’t. sukuna has made his decision today: it’s power and status over you. that’s what it’s always been. you were but a toy he used to get a stronger grip on himself.
perhaps he simply is what people make him out to be; a monster. nothing more, nothing less.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk angst#sukuna angst#ryomen sukuna angst
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A sister's love
The justice league hurriedly responds to a call for backup at a little in the middle of nowhere place by the name of Amity Park.
The situation had seemed so simple.
A Star Sapphire had suddenly shown up on Earth which isn’t immediately cause for concern but she was unidentified, so a lantern was definitely going to have to look into it if only just to make sure that nothing bad was going on. There are two planet side green lanterns, Simon and Jessica. So they responded to handle the potential situation.
Things rapidly spun out of control when they realized it wasn't just a Star Sapphire.
"I hate to say this but we're gonna need backup" Simon tells Cyborg, "the Star Sapphire has brought something with her. My first guess was a white martian but..." The other one can do some manner of density shifting, and he can go invisible, but they know ways around that. Whatever this one is doing isn’t that though.
"Why isn't this working!?!" Comes Jessica's slightly panicked voice in the distance, "he keeps just going through my creations! dammit, think think Jess" She tried to contain him with a flamethrower construct but he just ignored it, like he’s seemingly ignoring everything else she’s throwing at him.
"Our constructs have zero effect on the other one, the alien, meta? man I don’t know he’s human shaped"
"What is the situation other than the two hostiles?"
"Uh we got some government agents who are retreating because of the Star Sapphire wrecking their stuff. And the civilian people here seem to be falling under her influence, so she must be human. She's from here, she needs emotional connection to pull that stuff off."
The people are furious, the violet glow around them clearly indicates that the girl is using her ring to amp them up but if Simon didn’t know any better he’d say this was red lantern stuff.
Well there are more ways to whip people up into a frenzy, by hurting their loved ones for example.
There is a brief moment where it can be heard that Simon and Jessica try to get into a more advantageous position.
Simon grunts, "dammit, those agents seemed to have weapons that actually worked on the other guy but the Star Sapphire used her violet constructs to shield him and destroy their guns and we've been struggling since" this whole situation stinks, he has a weird feeling about all of it.
"Simon this is really really bad, i can't keep restraining all these civilians, we're running out of energy fast!"
Cyborg tries to get a visual on the situation from his position in the Watchtower while he’s notifying any league affiliated heroes who are nearby and available.
But all of a sudden he realizes there is just nothing, just a big lap of void where the two lanterns are supposed to be, there is no cctv footage, no cell towers, no internet connection. Just what the hell is going on here.
Then the audio transmission starts to violently crackle.
A new voice laced with static can suddenly be heard, "There you two are"
"Shit"
"Is the justice league coming yet? Are they finally going to do something?" the staticy voice continues.
"Stay back you-"
"Or maybe they still need more of a reason to act"
The audio cuts out.
"Jessica! Simon! Come in!" ... "Shit!"
Cyborg finally gets a clear picture with the satellite cameras and now sees the entirety of Amity Park has been covered with a crystalized violet dome. It’s then that he remembers the story Hal told quite some time ago now about a Star Sapphire who managed to put a whole planet into love stasis.
They are gonna need more help with this one he thinks.
Meanwhile Jazz is still shakily trying to figure out how her new pink powers work, now that all the fighting is over (for now), the GIW forcefully expelled from Amity, and the two Justice league people captured and restrained.
Everything happened so fast, one moment the GIW had knocked out her brother and were forcefully taking him away and while she saw them drive off (she was pretty sure she was screaming) a pink thing just froze her in place, She was pretty sure someone said something about “great love in her heart” and then she was… well she was flying and- and there wasn’t really any time to question things then so she may have kinda gone and ripped into the van that had Danny.
She’s pretty sure she healed him, and then things just completely spiraled out of control from that point on. and now she’s here.
She’s pretty sure this is crazy villain behavior, she’s going to get put on some sort of watchlist and then she’ll never get to be a psychologist but it’s fine.
Her little brother is safe, that’s all that matters. And she will keep it that way.
#dpxdc#dcxdp#danny phantom#danny fenton#dp x dc#dc x dp#dp x dc crossover#green lanterns#jazz fenton#simon baz#jessica cruz#so Jazz is a Star Sapphire#And she is using the love she has for her brother as well as the love of the Amity Park community#the people of Amity are already not happy with the Justice League so getting them to do what she wants isn't hard#atm though she doesn't really know she's doing it#and the ring is probably also influencing her#I feel like this situation would first get worse before it would get better#The GIW would try to spin this into their advantage somehow
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"it's a scream, baby!" ↠ day 15 ; keeping quiet
↠ billy loomis x reader x stu macher
fandom: scream word count: 3.9k warnings: nsfw 18+, gf!billy and stu, DUBCON, semi-public sex, homoerotic undertones, mentions of gore, cheating, degradation, dirty talk, thigh fucking, double penetration, knife play if you squint, gagging, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, cum eating, fingering, my stu bias definitely shows sorry guys
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
You weren’t really much of a party person, and all of your friends were aware of that. It was why none of them gave much resistance to the idea of you slipping away.
Stu’s house was insanely crowded, more than his usual parties. It was obviously because of the recent killing spree by the mysterious masked killer who had yet to be caught. Your general anxiety in loud spaces mixed with that of the unknown killer running around had you even more paranoid.
“Be careful!” Sidney calls out and Tatum waves as you make your way up the staircase. You send a small smile back as you weave your way through drunk teenagers stumbling all around, looking for more drinks.
You’ve been in Stu’s house plenty of times, having been friends with him for years at this point. You make a beeline straight for his bedroom, hoping that no one was in there hooking up so you could have a quiet place to decompress.
You knock loudly on his door, pressing your ear against it as the loud music and teens make it hard to hear inside. There’s no answer to your knowledge, and you slowly peek your head in.
No one is in the room, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You shut the door behind you and plop down on Stu’s bed, laying yourself out in a heap of exhaustion.
A bang from somewhere inside the room startles you, making you jump up from your seat. You notice that Stu’s closet door is slightly ajar, and figure that something inside fell down. You make your way over, the closet creaking as you open it.
A gasp leaves your lips and you step back after seeing what it was that fell.
It was one of the ghostface masks.
You slowly back away, eyes wide in disbelief with what you were seeing. No. It wasn’t possible, right? Stu couldn’t have been the killer; it made no sense. You bend down and cautiously pick up the mask.
It looks like your average store-bought cheap costume accessory. You inspect it closer, but bring a hand up to your mouth and almost drop the mask when you see what’s stained on it.
Small flecks of blood, all spattered across the edges.
The sound of the door creaking has you throwing the mask back into the closet and slamming the door, chest heaving as you pretend as though you weren’t searching through it.
In walks Stu, his trademark grin spread wide across his face.
“Now what are you doing in here?” he teases suggestively and wiggles his eyebrows. He closes the door and leans against it.
But clearly you’re not very good at hiding your emotions, because the smile instantly drops from Stu’s face. “Have you been…snooping in my things?”
You bite your lip and can feel your heart drop in your chest. “What? No! I just came in here to rest.” Your voice sounds incredibly shaking and you know there’s no way he’s buying it.
Stu’s eyes narrow, and he stalks closer to you. You back away in return, but his long strides make it difficult to put distance between the two of you. “I think you’re lying to me.”
He utters out your name in a warning tone. At this point, you know, he knows you know, and you know he knows you know that he’s the Ghostface killer. You make a feeble attempt to duck past Stu and make a run for it, but he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest, completely restraining you.
You try your best at escaping. You pound on his chest, wiggle in his grip, and even try biting him. That fails miserably and Stu slaps his large palm against your mouth, preventing you from screaming for help.
He drags you over to the bed, and you start to kick your heels against his legs. You aren’t sure what he’s capable of anymore. Is this the moment you die? Is Stu going to kill you? You let out a choked sob underneath his palm, clawing at his hand but to no avail.
You push back against him with all of the force of your body, yet Stu remains solid. “Be quiet,” he mutters in your ear.
And then you feel it. On your backside, you can feel Stu getting hard. You whimper in fear, and your body goes limp. But he clearly notices that you could feel it, and he chuckles darkly.
“Got me excited with all that struggling, babe.” He shamelessly rubs himself against you, his erection fully hard beneath his pants now.
Despite the terror that you feel in that moment, you couldn’t help but moan silently.
You would be lying if you said you never thought of hooking up with your friend. Stu was hot, he was funny, and if Tatum was a reliable source, he also had a huge dick.
If fucking Stu could save you from death, you would gladly let him use you however he wished.
You quickly concoct a plan in your head—a lame one, but a plan—to seduce Stu in an attempt to hopefully convince him not to kill you afterwards.
Before you can even attempt to put your plan into action, the bedroom door creaks open. “Shit,” you hear Stu mutter under his breath. Both you and him turn together, and in walks Billy, sauntering as he usually does.
He pauses and raises an eyebrow as he surveys the position you and Stu are in.
“Did I interrupt something?” Billy smirks, his eyes going dark. You look up through your eyelashes at Stu, who presses you closer to him, as if warning you not to signal for help. He shakes his head at Billy.
“She knows, man.”
Your body goes completely rigid in Stu’s grip. A chill runs down your spine.
Billy was involved in this Ghostface shit too? Well, that actually surprised you less than Stu. Billy was kind of a horror junkie in secret, even rivaling Randy, and he always had this strange look in his eye whenever he thought no one was looking.
His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. “Oh?”
The tone in his voice is sinister, much different than what you’ve heard from him before.
He strides over, pulling out a knife from his pocket and holding it out towards you.
You shriek, but it comes out all muffled. You try to tilt your head away from where Billy points the knife to your chin, but Stu keeps his hand solid, forcing your head forward.
He clicks his tongue at you, teasing you for your failed attempts to escape.
“I really didn’t want to kill you now, sweetheart, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
Tears gather in your eyes, threatening to fall. You still helplessly struggle against Stu’s grip, choking back sobs. You so desperately want Stu to release his hand, want to beg the two of them to keep you alive. You’re two seconds away from sounding like you belong in a bad porno that the boys rent from the video store where the woman says please! I’ll do anything!
But you don’t need to do any of that. Because before Billy starts slicing and dicing and stabbing at you, he backs away and looks Stu up and down. He then barks out a laugh.
“What, did chasing her around get you all stiff?”
Stu grins cheekily and grinds his erection up against your butt. You let out a surprised moan under his palm, grabbing onto his forearm. “You know I’ve always wanted to fuck her, man.”
Billy eyes shift between you and Stu, before pausing on you. A smirk slowly grows across his features until it morphs into a toothy grin. You can see the way his cock begins to twitch in his jeans and your heart sinks into your stomach.
“I’m not going to let you fuck her alone tonight.”
As if Stu was waiting this whole time for Billy’s approval, the hand that was restricting your mouth moves off and down to his jeans. Before you can even think about opening your mouth, Billy brings the knife back up your face, right under your chin forcing you to keep your mouth closed and head tilted up to meet his eyes.
“If you say a word I’ll cut your throat open and stick my cock in it.” He imitates the motion of slicing the knife across your throat.
You swallow harshly and can’t control the way you tremble under Stu’s hold. But the depraved part of you has your core throbbing, at the carnal lust that fills his eyes, so desperately wanting them both to get to fucking you sooner rather than later.
Scoffing in his face, you try your best to put up a calm front. “Are you guys all bark and no bite? All I hear is talking but no action.”
“Oh you’ll be getting action soon, baby.” You can feel Stu’s erect cock rubbing against your backside and the way that his arousal stains your shirt. His hand holds it at the base as he guides it between your legs, slowly fucking you between your thighs. You look down to see the bulging red tip of his cock leaking beads of precum as it penetrates the plush skin of your legs with every thrust.
Billy takes his knife and slices your skirt right down the middle, the two pieces falling to shreds at your feet.
“Yeah, there it is!” Stu yells as his long fingers poke and prod at your pussy through your underwear until it soaks the fabric through. “All nice and wet for us now.”
He moves the material to the side of your puffy lips and without so much as a warning sticks his cock right inside.
“Oh fuck,” you moan out as quietly as you can with the intense pleasure. It slides in easily with how wet you’ve gotten over the past couple of minutes. You arch your back into Stu as his long cock bullies its way inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
Stu begins thrusting immediately, the sounds of your skin slapping together being the loudest thing in the room.
“Such a dirty little slut,” Stu’s voice teases, laughter evident in his tone. His arm around your waist holds you up as he pounds into you at lightning speed, bouncing you up and down his cock. Your feet lift off the ground ever-so-slightly as he pulls you up. “But I guess I’m kind of a slut to. Always wanted to fuck you like this.”
Through your lust-filled haze, you can see Billy stroking himself through his boxers, jeans already unzipped and pulled down. He stares at both you and Stu and where the two of you connect.
“You gonna join man?” Stu lifts you up under your thighs. The action lifts your feet up in the air and exposes your pussy directly in Billy’s line of view. Stu pulls his cock out enough so just the head remains inside, and starts fingering around your lips.
You gasp at the sensation, your arms gripping his own and your walls clenching down desperately onto him. Stu’s fingers make a v shape and pull your lips open wide. “There’s plenty of room for you in here.”
“N-no!” You sob out, clawing at Stu and kicking your legs. The implication is not subtle at all, and the fear has you clenching even tighter onto him. There was no way that you could fit both of them in your pussy. Stu’s cock is already thick and fills you completely; you don’t think you could take another one without breaking.
Billy continues to palm himself above his underwear, the head of his cock poking out from the elastic band. “Fuck yeah, now your speaking my language!”
“No! Billy!” You shake your head wildly, tears threatening to fall from your swollen eyes. “Stop! It won’t fit!”
He rolls his eyes and takes his hard cock out of his boxers, pumping it with a few solid strokes. “Stop complaining.”
“He’ll make it fit,” Stu giggles from behind you.
A strangled sound leaves your lips, a mix between a choke and a sob. You’re powerless in Stu’s hold as he moves your limbs every which way he pleases. He never lets up in his thrusts, his stamina completely insatiable, and it doesn’t feel like he’s stopping any time soon.
You have no choice but to lay helpless as Billy guides his cock into your wet hole, pushing against Stu’s. The stretch from the two of their massive lengths is painful, and you bite the outside of your hand as an attempt to soften your cries.
“Fuck,” Billy moans, slotting himself fully inside of you. His eyes squeeze shut and his head is thrown back in pleasure. Your hands press against his chest to stabilize yourself.
Your eyes roll back as you start moaning audibly, his cock stuffing you full alongside Stu’s.
“None of that.” Billy slaps a hand over your mouth and digs his fingers into your cheek. “If any one of those sleazebags outside hears those moans I’ll have to kill them and fuck you over their dead body.”
His voice is deep, gravely, and completely serious—you believe him in his entirety. You nod rapidly under his hold. You don’t want the death of anyone to be on your hands, no matter how annoying they are.
“Good. Now stay quiet.”
Billy and Stu take turns fucking themselves up into you. They give you any chance for a break, when one pulls their length almost completely out, the other shoves it in. They take turns pounding themselves into you. Your walls clench hard around them, being stretched to the brim. It takes all your power not to cry out from the pain and pleasure, but the fear from Billy’s unpredictably overpowers all other emotions.
Billy seems to be caught up in the haze of his own arousal, fingers digging in the skin of your hips as he thrusts his cock in and out of you rhythmically. He groans. “Forgot what it’s like to fuck a tight, wet hole. Sidney still hasn’t put out yet.”
Your body instantly freezes at Billy’s words. In the midst of all the chaos that involved finding out that two of your friends were active serial killers, both of them have been wanting to fuck you, and both of them actually proceeding to fuck you, you were ashamed to admit that you completely forgot about your the rest of your friends downstairs. Sidney and Tatum, two of your closest friends, were partying just below you and were blissfully unaware that you were in fact not resting from the partying, but instead getting your hole absolutely destroyed by their boyfriends just a couple hundred feet away.
The reality of your situation comes back to you and the dread starts to sink in. Instinctively, you begin thrashing your body all around, causing as much commotion as you can. Your nails end up scratching Stu on his arm. “Ow!” he whines out, but it’s a cross between a whimper and a turned on moan. He bites your neck in retaliation. “I like ‘em feisty, you know. Really gets my dick goin’.”
Billy, on the other hand, doesn’t take your failed act of defiance so lightly. His hand reaches up and squeezes your cheeks as he pulls your face close to him, not letting up with the pistoning of his hips.
“Not. A. Word.” Every syllable is spoken individually, heavily gritted out through clenched teeth. At that moment, an array of muffled voices is heard right outside the bedroom door. Billy and you turn to the source of the noise at the same time. Billy turns back to you first. “You know what happens if they walk in,” he trails off darkly, and out of the corner of your eye you can see the glint of his knife as it rests on the side table, within an arm's reach from him. If he wanted to, he could easily slip himself out of you and kill the unsuspecting partygoers within mere seconds.
He buries himself back inside of you as you say that, the two of their cocks fighting for their spots inside of your restrictive walls. Billy and Stu moan in unison at the feeling, both of you gripping onto them and the way they feel pressed up against each other.
As hopeless as your situation may seem in the end, you try to make due with what you have and not let the guilt consume you. There’s nothing you can do about it now unless you want multiple people to wind up dead. It’s fairly easy to erase your mind of anything other than the two guys currently surrounding you, whose relentless thrusts make your vision go white and limbs go numb.
Stu attaches himself onto your neck, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys that’ll last for days. You lean your head back into him, giving him more access to the area. His long tongue licks all around the area, sending shivers down your spine.
His mouth eventually makes its way up to your own and Stu covers it, kissing you with great fervor. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling it around with your own tongue. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, but it feels perfectly like him. It’s intimate as he massages your tongue and brings his hand up to cup your jaw. In that single moment, you can pretend like your new revelation didn’t exist and that this is just a sensual moment between you and your friend, who’s kissing you like his life depends on it.
But that’s not the case, as Billy brings you back to reality once again. He spanks your ass which has you gasping into Stu’s mouth and your eyes opening wide.
Spit dribbles out the side of your mouth as Stu finally lets up, moaning into your jaw. He gives your neck a big kiss before sucking another hickey into it. “I can be romantic sometimes,” he whispers teasingly into your ear, causing you to shiver.
Billy and Stu pound into you, even harder than before if possible, their hips snapping up against your body.
You know that your orgasm is fast approaching, the various simulations making you feel desperate for a release.
“Please, please, please, please,” your voice is hoarse as you whisper out in a breathy tone to keep as quiet as possible.
“Yeah? You want our cum inside of you?” Billy coaxes you, but you can tell that he’s just as close to reaching his peak as you are given the uneven rhythm of his ruts, pushing slightly against the pattern he had set with Stu.
You nod your head as much as you can, your vision going blurry with the speed you move it. You can feel Billy’s cock throb furiously in you and it's enough to make you reach your own orgasm before him, clapping a hand over your mouth as to not alert your presence to anyone outside.
Billy’s orgasm follows your own soon after, with a strangled moan leaving his lips as his hot cum releases all inside you. The mix of your two juices allows for easier movement within your walls, and after he’s done climaxing Billy slides out of you with ease.
But Stu is nowhere near stopping.
With the result of your’s and Billy’s releases aiding him, Stu ruts himself even further into you. He manhandles you so that instead of your previous position of being twisted in the air as Stu stands behind you, he throws you down on top of the bed and climbs on top of you, humping into you from behind with a newfound vigor.
“Finally get you to myself for a bit,” Stu grits out of his teeth as his hips piston at an immeasurable speed.
You can’t speak at this point, completely cockdrunk from the brunt of the thrusts you’re taking. Stu’s broad body completely engulfs your form as he pounds you into the bedsheets. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, only low whimpers and droll being produced from it.
You can hear the squelching of your pussy, the result of Billy’s cum and your juices, as Stu pounds his cock as far as it reaches. You can feel the release escape the sides of your pussy lips with the brunt of Stu’s thrusts and you can’t help but whine softly as some of the warmth and fullness from the cum leaves your body.
Stu’s hand runs through your hair until he grabs it at the base. He pushes your head down completely into the bed, using much more pressure than what was needed. The force of it causes your ass to arch further into him as he presses his front fully against your back, curving his form as if morphing to the shape of your hunched and fucked out form.
“Now that’s a nice view,” he groans out, one hand at the root of your hair and the other pawing at your ass.
Animalistic grunts leave Stu’s mouth and you can feel as he reaches the cusp of his orgasm. Curses leave his lips as he finally cums, pushing himself inside you as deep as he can and hitting parts never reached before. You can feel the jets of his hot release inside of you as it comes out in huge, thick spurts.
When Stu finally leaves your walls, the mix of all three of your orgasms comes flowing out, making you moan at the loss of the fullness from all three of you.
“C’mon now, push it all outta you,” Billy’s voice calls out from across the room, speaking up from his previous silent observer role as he recovered from his own peak.
You obey, squeezing as much as you can with your weak body. You can feel globs of cum escape your entrance, cooling as it runs down your thighs and onto the sheets below you.
You flinch as you feel Stu’s fingers scoop some out of you, and the smacking of his lips indicates he tasted it. You moan, only able to picture what the scene looks like.
“Oh? You want some?” Stu’s fingers hastily appear in front of you. The fingers from his other hand pull your mouth open and he shoves the cum covered ones inside, making you gag instantly. He rams them in and out of your mouth, barely giving you any time to properly suck on the cum. Flecks of the fluid fly out of your mouth along with your own saliva. Tears fall without a warning, your gag reflex working overtime.
Stu’s fingers fuck your mouth until all of the cum is virtually gone from them. When he finally pulls them out, your body completely collapses. It trembles furiously from all the overstimulation, unable to hold itself up.
Stu gives you a big wet kiss on your cheek and slaps his now-limp cock onto your bare ass. You can only whimper in response, your body too heavy to move any part of it right now. Your vision is blurry, but through it you manage to make out Billy, with his sweaty complexion and rumpled clothes back on his body, talking down to you.
“You stay put until we can get everyone to piss off. We’ll be back for round two.”
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#ghostface#ghostface x reader#billy x reader x stu#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#scream x reader#billy loomis smut#stu macher smut#ghostface smut#scream smut#slasher smut#slasher x reader#slashers x reader#slashers smut
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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 2
(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.9k words)
series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
After weeks of all-nighters and cramming for finals, sleeping in on your first morning at the beach house felt incredible. It was only 9:30 when you finally stirred in the comfy bed, but it felt late in the day.
Coming down the stairs in your pjs and slippers, you smiled at the sound of your sister’s voice, joking around with her old friends. Your goal this trip was for her to have a good time, and despite the emotional rollercoaster of seeing Rafe yesterday, at this moment, you were glad you decided to stay. You entered the room to see half the house was awake, though neither Rafe or Tom had made an appearance yet.
“Ladies and gentleman, it’s Kerri Walsh Jennings!” Topper deepened his voice like a sports announcer when you entered the kitchen. The few people who were up all turned to you, playfully bowing and applauding like you were a true Olympian. You grinned and rolled your eyes, surprised at how comfortable you felt with the unprecedented attention.
Topper was at the stove flipping pancakes for everyone’s breakfast, wearing an apron that said “kiss the cook.” As you approached the kitchen island to grab a stool next to your sister, he leaned over, holding the spatula like a microphone.
“So tell us, Kerri, now that you’ve won the gold what will you do next?”
“Well, Top,” you played along. “First, I’m going to get some coffee…then I’m going straight to Disneyland!”
Everyone in the kitchen laughed, making the tips of your ears turn red. No one ever laughed at your jokes in high school, not that you were confident enough to make many. Rafe would tell you sometimes that you were funny, so long as no one was around to hear him admit it.
“Well I can help you with the first part,” Topper said, grabbing a mug and the coffee pot.
“Wow, so domestic of you, Topper,” you teased as he poured your steaming coffee in front of you.
“He’s our house mother,” Carter said, smiling wide at Topper who did a jokey little curtsy motion. Clearly this was a running joke between them.
Topper handed you a plate of pancakes, which Kelce promptly reached over your shoulder to steal.
“Since when are you such an athlete?” Kelce asked, his mouth already full with your breakfast.
You told them all about your team at school, surprised out of your mind that everyone was actually listening intently.
Rafe woke up groggy and sore, ducking his head as he walked through the basement and made his way up the rickety steps. As he reached for the handle of the door which opened into the kitchen, he smiled at the sound of your voice on the other side. His smile quickly faded when he heard Kelce interrupt you with, “Yeah and you kicked Rafe’s ass, too, made him your bitch.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
Every head in the kitchen whipped towards the sound of Rafe’s voice as he emerged, except for yours. You shuffled slightly on your stool and sipped your coffee. Rafe didn’t miss the way you were ignoring him, his eyes grazing quickly over the smoothe skin of your shoulders before redirecting to anything he could find.
“Cute apron, Top,” he landed on.
“Thanks man,” Topper said, ignoring his mocking tone. “Want some flapjacks?”
“Ew, who calls them flapjacks?” Carter burst out laughing.
“Well now you don’t get any,” Topper scolded, pulling her plate away from her and handing it to Rafe.
“I don’t want ‘em if Carter’s put her mouth near them,” Rafe mocked. “We don’t know where she’s been.”
“Says the guy who licked the gym floor in seventh grade,” you said quietly.
The entire room came to a halt, everyone surprised at the sound of you joining in on the teasing. No one had actually heard you address Rafe yet. The awkwardness hung in the air, all eyes going wide as they waited to see if the notorious hothead was going to be able to take what he was dishing out. You just picked at your pancakes with your fork and hoped everyone would move on, but Rafe smirked at you, a playful twinkle in his eye.
“That was on a dare,” he defended himself.
When you finally looked up at him, your stomach twisted into a knot as you noticed how cute he looked in his white undershirt and grey sweats, messy bedhead and sleepy eyes. You immediately regretted acknowledging that you remembered something he did so long ago. Now, he was looking at you with something like excitement, smug that you were talking to him, like your big triumph the day before had never happened.
“Oh, I didn’t remember that part.” It was a lie, you remembered everything he ever said or did.
Rafe’s face dropped at your impassive tone, his brief window of hope that all was forgiven slammed shut.
To your great relief, Tom chose that moment to enter the room, drawing the attention away from you and Rafe. He had apparently been out on a run, and his under armor shirt, wet with sweat, clinged to his form to reveal a sculpted chest below.
“How we doin’ everyone?” His cheery voice boomed. He slapped Topper on the back before giving Kelce a frat bro handshake across the counter. “What do we have here?” He whistled appreciatively at the spread Topper had put out.
As Topper rattled on about the many flavors and shapes of pancakes he could offer, Tom looked over at you with a cheeky smile and mouthed “good morning!” You smiled back with a little wave, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the way he was singling you out.
After the volleyball game last night, you’d all gone to a seafood restaurant on the water. Tom had chosen the seat next to you, and made extremely pleasant dinner company. He asked you all about yourself, about school and what you were planning for the future. He was a great listener, and you were so glad to have someone to chat normally with without the baggage of your childhood hanging over your head. You hoped the week would hold many more cozy conversations with him.
Unbeknownst to you, Carter was watching as you smiled at him in the kitchen, and so was Rafe. They had very different looks on their face as they realized at the same moment that something was happening between you and Tom.
After Topper and Kelce reclaimed Tom’s attention, talking over each other about their plans to go fishing later, Carter squeezed your elbow and motioned with a nod for you to follow her out onto the patio.
“Ummm, okay, what was that?” Carter asked with arched eyebrows once you were settled on the patio couch next to her.
“Oh my god I know. I shouldn’t have said anything, do you think everyone will think it’s weird I remember something he did in seventh grade?” You asked worriedly.
Carter scrunched her brows in confusion for a minute before waving you off with her hand. “Oh, no not Rafe, he’s old news. I’m talking about your little moment with Tom!”
“Oh, uh,” you cleared your throat, embarrassed that you were still lingering on Rafe when she clearly wasn’t. “I don’t know, he’s nice.”
“He’s fucking gorgeous is what he is,” she fanned herself theatrically.
“Are you into him?” Your stomach dropped at the thought that she might be interested. In your eyes, Carter always had first pick, and surely if Tom thought she was interested he’d choose her over you in a heartbeat.
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m having too much fun messing with Topper.”
You laughed hard at that, “yeah, I noticed. Are you two back on again?”
“Maybe,” she shrugged. “You think if I play my cards right I could get him to propose?”
“I think you could probably get him to do just about anything,” you chuckled.
“Okay, then it’s settled, I’ve got Topper and you,” she poked at your side and you swatted her hand away, “will make a move on Tom.”
“I don’t know about ‘make a move,” you took a long sip of your coffee, suddenly anxious.
Carter eyed you curiously, recognizing the insecurity she hoped you had left behind now that things were going so well. She didn’t understand how you still couldn’t see how amazing you are, but she was determined to prove it to you by the end of this trip.
Rafe did his best not to stare at you through the sliding door, but when he heard your melodic laugh float in through the screen, he couldn’t help the way his head snapped toward the sound, wishing desperately that it was him making you laugh like that. You used to laugh at all his jokes, and he’d taken it for granted. The sad thing was, he actually loved hanging out with you. You had a great sense of humor, and he always felt so comfortable when it was just you and him. He knows now he should’ve just called it what it was, been with you in public too. But he had so many eyes on him back then, and he was worried what people would think. Plus, he knew you’d stick by him even if he treated you like shit, and he took advantage of that. He kicked himself mentally, feeling like a Grade A chump while you sat there, looking beautiful in the ocean breeze, smiling through the window at some guy you’d met yesterday.
As he lost himself in his thoughts, Topper noticed him staring at you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
“She looks good, huh?” He asked Rafe.
“What?” Rafe shook his head as if he could erase the thoughts that were plaguing him. “Who?”
“Oh, come on,” Topper nodded towards you and Carter on the deck.
“I dunno,” Rafe tried to play it off. “She looks the same I guess, a little different.”
“Bro,” Topper gave him an incredulous look. “She’s a fucking smokeshow. You’re into her, don’t even try and fool me.”
“If you're so into her, why don’t you go for her?” Rafe snapped at him.
Topper shook his head, “maybe because I’m not the one she was obsessed with for a decade.”
“She wasn’t obsessed with me,” Rafe protested. “We were friends.”
“Right,” Topper said sarcastically. “And I was a number one draft pick. Dude, she was in love with you, everyone knew it.”
Rafe leaned forward on the counter, propped on his elbows, looking down at his uneaten pancakes with a frown. His stomach twisted with guilt. Of course everyone knew, he knew it too. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t use your adoration of him to his advantage from time to time. Okay, all the time. He couldn’t really blame you for still being mad at him, he was a dick. But he liked to think he’d grown some since then, not that you had any reason to give him a chance to prove it.
“I think she’s into your buddy, Dom, or whatever his name is,” Rafe grumbled.
“First of all,” Topper pointed the spatula at him, “you know his name is Tom. And second of all, I love the guy, but he’s got nothing on you. Give me one day, she’ll be back.”
“Don’t do anything weird, man,” Rafe warned, cringing at the thought of what kind of damage an unsupervised Topper could inflict.
“Don’t worry dude, I got it handled,” Topper assured him.
Rafe just chuckled and sipped his coffee, knowing this was a losing battle, “whatever you say, Top.”
The door slid open and you and Carter reentered the kitchen. Tom stood from his place at the little breakfast nook when you walked in, and you were relieved that he ended his conversation with Maddie and Sabrina so abruptly at the sight of you. He smiled down at you before heading into the kitchen to help Topper clean up. Rafe was noticeably not helping, sitting at the counter scrolling on his phone.
“No phones,” Carter said, swiping it from him.
“Give it,” he held his large hand out to her, jaw ticking with annoyance.
“C’mon Rafe, don’t you want to live in the present?” She badgered.
He tried to grab it quickly, but she lifted it above her head, tossing it to Kelce on the other side of the counter, who tossed it to Topper, and the game of hot potato continued, much to Rafe’s chagrin.
“Y’all are children,” he scowled, sitting back on the stool in defeat.
“Who are you even texting? All your friends are here,” Carter jeered.
“I was looking up directions to the grocery store, seeing as there’s no fucking food in this house besides beer, and apparently pancake mix,” Rafe explained.
“No need,” Topper said. “Tom, Kelce and I are spending the day on the water and we’ll grab some stuff on the way back.”
Carter frowned at the thought of both of your boys being gone the whole day, leaving little to distract you from Rafe. This wouldn’t do.
“No, you can’t go out today, we're having a cookout!” She announced to the room.
“We are?” Kelce scratched his head.
“Yes, we are,” Carter nodded confidently, wrapping her arm around Topper’s waist, which you knew was all it would take to get him to agree. “And mom here is going to grill for us.”
“Oh am I?” Topper asked, eyebrows raised in amusement, not exactly protesting.
“Yes, so someone else will need to go get the food,” Carter continued. You knew her well enough to see that a whole plan was unfolding in her head. “Sissy, why don’t you go?”
“That’s…fine,” you agreed reluctantly, narrowing your eyes at her, trying to figure out her play. “I need someone to go with me though, we’ll need a lot of stuff.”
Carter and Topper smiled in sync, both thinking they’d just come up with the best idea anyone has ever had.
At the same moment that Carter blurted out, “Tom can go with you!” Topper loudly suggested, “Rafe can take you!”
Your lips forming a tight line, you gave them both an exasperated look. Their heads snapped toward each other, eyeing each other suspiciously. Rafe scratched the back of his neck, annoyed at Topper for butting in and hating himself for hoping you’d choose to go with him and not Tom.
Tom, meanwhile, was watching all four of you from the corner of the room, never more confused in his life.
“It’s cool,” he said hesitantly, the awkwardness palpable. “All three of us can go.”
“Fine, but I’m driving,” Rafe stood from his seat. “Can I have my phone back now please?”
He reached his hand to Kelce, who was the last to have it. Kelce panicked, wanting to keep the game going, and tossed it to you. You very nearly dropped it, letting it bounce between your hands but eventually securing it before it fell.
You just looked at it in your hands, then up to Rafe and Tom, searching for any way out of what was sure to be an uncomfortable outing without being rude. You came up with nothing.
“I guess I’ll go get dressed,” you handed Rafe his phone, making Kelce shake his head at you in disappointment.
The hum of the truck’s engine was the only sound in the car for a solid five minutes. You sat in the front seat, Tom having opened your door for you, while Rafe drove. You suddenly couldn’t remember what people do with their hands when they’re not driving. Where the hell do you put your hands? Tom’s voice cut through your internal panic.
“So, uh Rafe, Top says you went to Chapel Hill?” He inquired, sitting forward in the backseat so his head appeared between you and Rafe,
“Still do,” Rafe said curtly.
You looked at Rafe for the first time since pulling out of the beach house driveway. You wanted to ask him why he hadn’t graduated on time, always more invested in his academics than he was, but you were trying to pretend you didn’t care.
“Nice, man,” Tom tried to keep the conversation going. “I applied there, it’s hard to get in.”
“I guess I just hit the books a little harder than you then,” Rafe shrugged.
A scoff escaped you before you had the chance to stifle it. Rafe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
“What was that?” Rafe looked sideways at you for a moment.
“Nothing,” you crossed your arms over your chest.
“No, please share,” he prodded. You couldn’t believe he was copping an attitude with you.
“It’s just, I’m sure your last name had nothing to do with your acceptance,” you quipped.
Rafe’s jaw clenched and you smirked in satisfaction, pleased that you had gotten under his skin. Tom’s eyes flicked between the two of you, trying to decipher the vibe.
You were glad he didn’t try to attempt any further small talk. Once you got to the grocery store, you divided the shopping list three ways and split up to your designated aisles. You filled your cart as fast as you could, eager to get this shopping trip over with.
After checking everything off your list, you rounded the corner of the produce section toward the registers, your cart nearly crashing into Rafe’s. His entire shopping cart was filled with alcohol. You laughed at the sight.
“What?” Rafe asked defensively.
“What are the rest of us gonna drink?” You smirked.
“Shut up,” he grinned. “It’s not all for me.”
“Okay but where is the stuff you were supposed to get?”
“It’s under there somewhere,” he mused.
“Sure,” you just shook your head with a smile and kept walking towards the register.
“Shit, wait,” Rafe rolled his cart to you and ran back down one of the aisles.
“No don’t worry about me, I got it,” you muttered to yourself bitterly.
You started pushing both carts but Rafe appeared quickly at your side again.
“Got it,” he breathed, adding one more thing to his cart.
It was a case of Redbull. You shifted on your feet uncomfortably, looking down into his cart. Redbull was his drink of choice in high school, you used to buy him one every day and bring it to him after practice, like a puppy fetching the morning paper. Rafe eyed you nervously, your soured expression leading him to believe you remembered just as well as he did.
“Old habits die hard, huh?” You joked, trying to break the tense moment.
“Yeah, can’t seem to kick that one,” he replied, relieved that you were the first to acknowledge it.
Tom caught up with you at check-out, his cart actually full of the things he was supposed to get. The three of you unloaded your goods to be rung up by a 16-year-old cashier who could not have been more annoyed that you had chosen his register.
Tom jumped in to help bag the groceries, chatting happily with the bag boy as he assisted. Rafe, however, stood there staring at his phone.
After you finished emptying your cart, you watched Tom with a smile while he charmed the grocery store staff. Rafe looked up from his screen with a frown, stomach dropping when he saw that you were watching Tom with an affectionate smile.
“Is that everything?” The cashier asked hopefully.
You were about to say "yes" and also maybe "sorry" when Rafe cut you off.
“No wait, these too,” he reached toward the shelf and grabbed your favorite candy, looking at you expectantly as he handed it to the cashier.
“Your favorite,” he explained bashfully at the sight of your furrowed brows.
“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. “Just surprised you remember. Thanks.”
You looked at him for a moment longer than you should, your eyes lingering on each other’s as you shared another silent memory. You felt a twinge of nostalgia that you knew you shouldn’t.
While you and Rafe looked at each other, Tom pulled out his black card and entered it into the machine. Rafe noticed a moment too late and scrambled to pull his wallet from his pocket, fumbling for his credit card.
“Oh no, hey man, I was gonna get it,” Rafe finally pulled out the credit card he was looking for but Tom was already signing the screen with his finger.
“No worries dude,” Tom brushed him off politely. “You can get me back later this week.”
Rafe was the most competitive person you knew, and the richest, surely he wasn’t going to let another guy pay for everything and walk away. He opened his mouth like he was going to argue with Tom, but with a glance back at you he closed it again. Then he carried as many bags to the car as one person could possibly hold, mumbling something like "multiple trips are for pussies."
Another fifteen minutes of painful silence might just make your head explode, you thought. The second you were back in the truck, the bed overflowing with groceries, you asked Rafe for the aux.
“What are you gonna play?” He sideyed you as he held it just out of reach. You leaned across the console to snatch it from his hands, and he felt pins and needles where your hand had brushed him. He wondered if you realized it was the first time you'd touched each other in four years.
The two of you had always fought over the aux, you’d eventually give in to his pouting and listened to his shitty house mixes and soundcloud rappers.
“Don’t worry about it,” you waved him off with a grin.
Four years ago, you would have been way too nervous to play what you truly wanted to listen to, afraid Rafe wouldn’t think it was cool enough. But now, you pressed play on your go-to playlist with gusto and beamed when your absolute favorite song started booming through his subwoofers.
Rafe tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t stop them from dancing back over to you as you sang along happily to your music. You rolled the window down, letting the humid Florida air raise your hair in a wave around you. You giggled and tried to tame it, eventually giving up and letting it whip around your face.
There was something so light about you. Something joyful and at peace. He placed both hands on the steering wheel, trying to ground himself, jealous of your carefree spirit. Whatever intangible thing you had managed to capture in your years apart, he wanted it. And it hit him like a lightning bolt, a bittersweet truth he had fought for so many years - he wanted you.
One song rolled into the next, and Rafe searched for something to say to keep up the almost-friendly banter you had begun in the store, but before he could come up with anything, Tom sat forward suddenly.
“Oh hey I love this song!” Tom informed you.
“Me too!” You turned to smile at him, and Rafe listened enviously as you and Tom chatted about the many favorite artists you have in common the rest of the way home.
The house was quiet when you returned, everyone either taking their daily hangover nap or down lounging by the beach. Rafe’s hands turned white from once again carrying as many plastic bags as he could. You tried not to laugh, and tried not to notice the way his biceps bulged under his tight t-shirt, but you failed at both.
“Are you laughing at me again?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement, placing the bags on the counter. “What is it this time?”
“Sorry, you’re just so helpful all of a sudden,” you pointed out with a smirk.
“Well bag boy over there wasn’t helping,” he nodded towards the patio, where Tom was taking a phone call.
“He said it’s a work call,” you defended him. “He just got a job in New York apparently, a Wall Street thing.
“Whatever,” Rafe mumbled. What he wanted to say was “since when are you two best friends?” but he had already been fairly gruff with you today and he was trying to refocus on his goal of getting you to like him again.
You and Rafe put the groceries away in silence for a while. You tried to find the right way to approach the question you were dying to ask, failing to convince yourself you didn't care about the answer.
“So,” you started nervously. “You didn’t graduate this year?”
Rafe’s shoulders tensed as he tried to make more room in the pantry.
“Nope,” he said shortly.
“Did you take some time off?”
He was torn between being glad that you were talking to him and mad that this was the topic you’d chosen to break the ice with.
“No, I-uh,” he cleared his throat. “I failed a couple classes my first year so I’m still a few credits behind.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, leaning down to put the ribs for the cookout in the large freezer.
“It’s my own fault,” he shrugged. “I was an idiot back then.”
When you stood from the freezer to grab another rack of ribs, you were surprised to see Rafe standing close, his body looming as he looked down at you.
“I was an idiot before then, too,” he continued, voice low and uncertain.
Everything in your mind went fuzzy as the blood rushed to your face. This was the first time you could smell him, and it familiarity of his scent made you feel like you were being transported back in time. You fought the urge to inhale deeply, greedy for the rush of him filling your senses.
“Before then?” You blinked up at him.
Rafe struggled to find his next words. It took everything in you not to fill in the blanks for him, like you were back in high school slipping him the answers to a test he hadn’t studied for. But this time, you needed him to find the answers all on his own. You swallowed hard, leaving silence for the words he was searching for.
Before he could find them, Topper and Carter came barreling into the kitchen, mid-argument as always. They stopped short when they saw the scene in front of them. Rafe stepped away from you so quickly you could feel a woosh of wind in his wake. It was eerily reminiscent of your teenage years, Rafe separating himself from you as soon as there was anyone around to see you together.
“Everything okay?” Carter asked tensely, noticing the way your shoulders had fallen.
“Fine,” Rafe said, tossing the rest of the plastic bags in the trash and heading down the stairs to his basement bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.
“Damn, you two did good,” Topper said, admiring the cornucopia of food you’d brought back.
“You three,” Carter corrected. “Tom went too.”
She walked up next to you and lowered her voice, a sly smile on her face, “and how did it go with Tom?”
You didn’t match her playful mood, completely preoccupied thinking about the moment you and Rafe had just shared. Was he about to apologize to you? What would you have let him do if your sister and psuedo-brother-in-law had entered the room just a minute later?
“It was fine,” you said distractedly, closing the fridge and heading upstairs to your room.
Carter turned on her heel and looked at Topper with a frown, shocked to find him beaming back at her.
“What are you smiling for?” She snarled.
“Oh nothing, seems like my plan is working is all,” he grinned. “They were standing awfully close when we walked in.”
“Your plan?” She stepped closer to him, arms crossed. “What are you up to Thornton?”
“Just playing a little Cupid,” he smiled proudly.
“Okay well you can go ahead and put down the bow and arrow, because I’ve already got that covered,” she informed him.
“Really?” He asked in surprise. “I thought you hated Rafe.”
“Rafe? Ew, no, I’m talking about Tom, obviously,” she snapped.
“Your sister and Tom? Nahhh, do you not see how she and Rafe have been looking at each other? It’s so obvious,” he scoffed.
“You know what else is obvious? That Rafe’s still a dick and he doesn’t deserve her,” Carter argued.
“He’s actually grown up a lot,” Topper said, surprising Carter with the serious shift in his tone. “He’s been through some stuff, college hasn’t been easy for him. He could use a win.”
Carter considered this, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the years of bitterness she held for Rafe.
“Well, he had his chance. He had millions of chances with her and he fumbled every one,” she said.
“I know he did, but under it all he’s a good person. And I think good people deserve second chances,” Topper explained.
“Not when they hurt my sister,” she concluded. “I won’t allow it.”
Topper's eyes creased with his smile as he looked down at her, loving her steely look and pursed lips as she put her hands on her hips.
“You’re still so bossy,” he smiled, sliding closer to her until their chests were nearly touching. “I know we’re supposed to be fighting, but it’s kinda hot.”
He leaned forward to plant a little kiss on her lips, like he’d done a million times before. Carter leaned back, leaving his puckered lips hanging.
“Oh no,” she pushed him back, making him frown. “You don’t get to touch me until you join Team Tom.”
“Nuh-uh! Team Rafe for life baby,” he crossed his arms to match her stance, recovering quickly, more than used to being rejected by her.
She studied him suspiciously, wondering how quickly he’d crack if she actually withheld their inevitable beach trip hook-up. But he didn’t budge, he was as serious about this as she was.
“Fine,” she said. “The game is so on.”
(Chapter 3)
a/n: so tell me... are we Team Tom or Team Rafe?
please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕
#Team Tom#Team Rafe#I accidentally made topper my favorite character oops#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fic#obx fic#drew starkey#rafe obx#rafe fanfic#rafe fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#obx#outer banks#outer banks fic#topper thornton#x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff
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Hey! Can you please write headcanons for Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim where they get jealous when reader ignores them for some other guy? (They haven't confessed to her yet because of their issues) The reader is also very oblivious to their feelings and doesn't understand why they are acting weird around her male friend. Thanks 😘
♯BABY COME HOME 2 ME . . . he’s jealous !! (fem!reader)
BRUCE WAYNE
bruce had perfected the skill of keeping his emotions under wraps, but when he saw you chatting animatedly with clark kent of all the people, his jaw tightened, and his usual stoic demeanor grew even colder. he didn’t say anything outright, but his silence became louder, his responses clipped and curt
he spent an unreasonable amount of time analyzing every interaction you had with the superman. he didn’t want to be jealous, but he couldn’t help dissecting your body language, the tone of your laughter, and how often you glanced in clark’s direction. the world’s greatest detective is undone by a simple smile exchanged between you and the man of steel
so he started subtly trying to one-up clark whenever you were around. If clark complimented your choice of book, bruce casually mentioned that he had donated an entire library to that author’s hometown. if clark suggested grabbing coffee, bruce offered to fly you to paris for the best croissant you’ve ever had (competitive much)
he became strangely territorial, appearing wherever you and clark happened to be. need help with research? bruce suddenly has all the resources at his disposal. want to attend a charity event? bruce personally invites you as his guest. his subtle possessiveness confused you, but he waved it off with a dismissive, “i was in the area.”
despite being oblivious, clark catches on pretty quickly. he teases bruce about his attitude, whispering, “you know, she’s just being friendly,” during a team meeting. bruce’s only response is an icy glare, but inside, he’s frustrated that even clark can see what he won’t admit
bruce started making dry, sarcastic remarks when clark’s name came up in conversation. when you mentioned how nice clark is, bruce grumbled, “nice? sure. but can he solve an international financial crisis in a single night?” you think he’s joking, but that man is 100% serious.
DICK GRAYSON
dick prides himself on being the laid-back, easygoing friend, but when he sees you laughing at one of wally’s cheesy jokes, something tightens in his chest. his usual smile falters for a fraction of a second before he forces it back into place. you don’t notice, but wally does, smirking knowingly
he starts teasing wally in a way that’s just a bit sharper than usual. “wow, wally, that story gets funnier every time you tell it,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. you laugh along, oblivious, but wally raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying dick’s discomfort
he becomes oddly competitive, especially when wally’s abilities are involved. if wally races ahead to grab you something, dick will casually say, “sure, he’s fast, but can he do this?” before doing some ridiculously impressive flip that leaves you clapping. he’ll shrug it off like it’s nothing, but he’s secretly watching to see if you’re impressed
dick starts overthinking every little interaction. did you laugh harder at wally’s joke than at his? does wally text you more often? he gets caught up in his own insecurities, wondering if maybe wally is a better fit for you—someone fun and carefree, without the baggage he carries
wally, ever the troublemaker, starts leaning into the situation. he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder or wink at dick while you’re not looking, just to see how far he can push him. dick plays it off with a tight smile, but his fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to yank wally’s hand away from you
at some point, wally corners dick with a smug grin, saying, “so, when are you going to tell her?” dick tries to deny it, but wally isn’t fooled. “come on, grayson. she’s oblivious, not blind. well, actually, she is blind to you, but that’s your fault.” dick groans, knowing wally won’t let it go, ever
later when you two actually get together, wally makes sure to get in the last word, casually saying, “took you long enough, grayson. you’re lucky i’m such a good wingman.” dick rolls his eyes, but for once, he doesn’t argue
JASON TODD
jason is naturally broody, but when he sees you laughing at one of roy’s jokes or leaning closer to hear him better, his usual scowl deepens. his arms cross tighter, his jaw clenches, and his responses become more gruff and sarcastic. you think he’s just annoyed in general, but roy knows better
he doesn’t want to feel jealous of roy—roy’s his best friend, after all—but he can’t help it. he knows his friend is charming and easygoing, and it eats at him that you seem to enjoy roy’s company more than his. he hates himself for the bitterness, but he hates how much he cares even more
he starts pulling away, telling himself it’s better to let you be happy than to deal with these feelings. he’ll find excuses to leave the room when you and roy are hanging out, claiming he has “important red hood business” or muttering, “you two don’t need me hanging around.” his absence feels colder than his usual aloofness :((
jason tries to compete with roy’s charm in his own way. he’ll offer to help you with things before roy gets the chance—fixing something in your apartment, teaching you how to defend yourself, or lending you his jacket when it’s cold. his gestures are quieter but filled with meaning, though you only see them as jason being his usual protective self
roy catches on to jason’s jealousy almost immediately and starts poking the bear. he’ll intentionally sit a little closer to you or tell stories that paint himself as the hero. jason’s glare darkens every time, and roy smirks like he’s won some unspoken game
his friend eventually pulls him aside, half-teasing, half-serious. “you’re going to scare her off if you keep growling like that, jaybird,” he says with a grin. jason denies it, grumbling, “she doesn’t feel that way about me, so what does it matter?” roy shakes his head, muttering, “you’re hopeless,” but decides to give you two some space
“took you long enough. it was written all over jaybird’s face.”
TIM DRAKE
tim isn’t the type to show his jealousy outwardly, so at first, he tries to brush it off. he tells himself he’s being irrational, but every time he sees you smiling at conner or laughing at one of his jokes, it’s like a knife twisting in his chest. he sits there, silently sipping his coffee, pretending it doesn’t bother him
instead of confronting his feelings, tim buries himself in work. whenever you and conner are together, tim conveniently has “important research” or “a mission to plan.” he thinks distancing himself will help, but in reality, he’s just overthinking the situation in the safety of the batcave monitors
tim’s usual polite demeanor starts to crack, and he can’t help throwing in a few passive-aggressive comments. if vonner makes a lighthearted joke about being a hero, tim mutters under his breath, “yeah, because we didn’t already know how amazing you are, conner.” you laugh, thinking tim’s just being witty, while conner gives him a confused side-eye
when you and conner are deep in conversation, tim randomly interjects with obscure facts or strategic insights to redirect your focus. “did you know the alignment of the stars tonight is perfect for an alien incursion? just saying.” you smile and ask him to elaborate, giving him a brief moment of relief that he has your attention again
conner, being tim’s best friend, catches on pretty quickly. he notices the way tim’s eyes linger on you a little too long or how his voice drops when you mention conner’s name. instead of teasing him outright, conner starts backing off slightly, giving tim room to shine
you start noticing tim’s strange behavior—his avoidance, his sudden snarky remarks about conner—and ask him what’s wrong. he insists it’s “nothing,” but the crack in his voice gives him away. still, he’s too guarded to admit what’s really bothering him
later after tim’s confession, conner gives him a playful nudge and a knowing grin. “see? told you she’d feel the same way. maybe now you’ll stop staring at her like a lost puppy.” tim groans, muttering something about how conner’s the real puppy, but he’s secretly relieved—and grateful—that his best friend had his back
after your heart-to-heart, tim’s confidence starts to grow. he’s still awkward at times, but he’s more willing to share how he feels, even if it’s in small, thoughtful gestures. and when conner teases him about finally making a move, tim just smirks, knowing he’s the one who has your heart
ADDITIONAL NOTE! if you like my work, please consider reblogging and / or commenting !! thank you if you do 🤍
#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader#x reader#reader insert#bruce wayne fic#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fic#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd fic#tim drake x you#tim drake x reader#tim drake fic#batman x reader#batman x you#nightwing x you#nightwing x reader#red hood x you#red hood x reader#red robin x reader#red robin x you#dcu x reader#dc x reader#dc universe#dcu#jason todd x fem!reader
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"Come here," Toji says, at the sight of the involuntary pout that works wonders to express your internal, dispirited mood. His attention is divided very unevenly between you and the movie playing on the TV, you holding the greater part of his focus. He's watching you for his own peace of mind, hoping that every time you take a break from the movie, to check your phone, you'll spare him a look. You've been quieter than he knows you to be, and you're not sitting even remotely close to him. He's on one side of the couch and you're on the other side.
A few seconds pass since Toji spoke up, and he wonders if you even heard him in the first place, because you didn't respond. He passes on repeating himself when you shift your eyes from the TV to meet his gaze, and though your gloominess isn't because of him, you can't offer him any sort of indication that you're good.
"Sorry, i'm not in the mood to take my clothes off, Toji," you say, your voice a gentle, pitiful excuse for sound. If your voice could be seen, it would be similar to the tragic way that grass blades slowly try to stand up, after being stepped on. If the sound of your voice could be felt, it would be the void-like, almost nauseating feeling in your stomach, that comes with ignored hunger. You sound detached from the bright person Toji knows, and clearly, you're not okay.
"I'm not asking you to undress yourself. I want you to come to me," Toji responds. "You're sitting so far over there, away from me, like I did something to you. For being the most reasonable person I know, this isn't fair, at all." His eyes stay on you as he awaits your response, but he is only met with the sight of you looking down at your hands.
"Be fair. You didn't help me get better at communicating, just to turn the tables on me like this." His tone is sharper, out of urgency. He wants to know what he can do for you, but it's hard to do that when you're there, yet, not there. "Just... come here, ma," Toji tries again, his voice a little softer and understanding. "Please. Let's talk about anything." He pats his thigh, directing you to one of the reserved spots he holds for intimate conversations with you.
You know Toji's stubbornness will not leave you alone. It's impossible to hide anything from him once he's onto you, so you stop prolonging the inevitable and silently do as he says.
You turn off the TV, before walking over to him and settling on his lap. You sit there, with a racing heart, because Toji's attention feels like a spotlight on you. His hands interlock at the small of your back and rest there, as he waits for you to say something. Silence invades the moment while you figure out where to start.
"What's wrong?" He asks, when there is no attempt to speak made by you. Immediately, your throat begins to ache, and your eyes start to sting. It's a question known for breaking people, and you're on the brink of becoming another victim. You think you can widen your eyes to keep them dry or blink away the tears, but the outcome doesn't favor you. Toji's hands shift so that they're splayed out on your lower back. They move up and down in soothing motions, as if he's trying to coax your strong emotions out with the comforting gesture. Like a gloomy sky finally giving in to rain, you cave in to vulnerability.
"Baby?" Toji calls, watching as sadness takes over your features. He sighs as he pulls your twinkly-eyed self into his tight embrace. He hates when you cry. The sound and the sight is the equivalent of pouring acid on his heart. It's torture for him to see that his baby, his sweetheart, his love, has been reduced to streams of tears, but he knows that getting it all out is for your own good. This is the 'alcohol in the wound' part of the process. You don't want to do it, but you'll feel better, afterwards. Just like a real physical wound, Toji will make you get it done. Scream if you must, curl into him like you are trying to go through him, he's not going to abandon you.
"Just breathe, sweet girl," he instructs, when he hears the heart wrenching sound of your stuttered breaths. "Breathe. Give me a good one," he says, rubbing your upper back. You inhale, the act still heavily stuttered, before you exhale. "Good. Again." You repeat the process and get the same trembling breath as a result.
"Fuck," you choke out. Your head feels like it's pulsing, your abdomen burns, your chest feels heavy, as if you have chains tightly wrapped around your torso, and your throat aches. It's all so overwhelming, you feel like there's a disastrous storm ruining you from within.
"Sweetheart, please breathe. You're gonna turn blue any minute now." Toji can't hold you any tighter without crushing you, but he wants to, so badly. This is the lowest he's ever seen you and it's killing him. He has never made you this upset. It's hell to even imagine what you must have endured to get to this point.
"You're safe. I have you," he says, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of your head. "I'm here, baby."
Toji's shoulder is damp from your waterfalls of tears and he can feel an excessive amount of heat radiating from your trembling body. Your crying ceases and all that can be heard are sharp, short inhales and puffs of air, as you try to regulate your breathing. Toji continues running his hands over your back, soothing the tired, tense muscles of your shoulder blades.
"We are gonna have to talk about this later, doll. I know that might not sound like the most fun thing to do, but it'll make you feel better. I want you to feel better."
Toji is mindful of your silence. He knows your voice isn't in the best condition to speak after your surge of emotions, and you're probably exhausted, but this isn't a dead end for him. He'll figure out your needs, and he'll take care of you. Anything to bring your happy, smiling face, back.
Toji allows you to pull away from his shoulder, and instantly takes in the sight of your pretty, ruined face. You don't look at him, and he assumes that your appearance is to blame. Your eyes, they're red and puffy, glimmering in the light with your now contained feelings, and you're still sniffing like you need to blow your nose. It's terrible to see you this way, but he would withstand much more than this, if you needed it.
"How does a bath sound, for now? A bath and then some food? You hungry, mama?" He asks, his expression involuntarily soft, as he runs the pads of his thumbs beneath your eyes, attempting to clean you up a little.
"No," you say, quietly, with the fragility that remains of your voice.
"I'm gonna pick up some food while you relax." Toji almost laughs at the subtle roll of your eyes. "That's my bad. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. You need to eat something."
He doesn't want to put you through any more stress, but when he needs to take care of you, during times like this, he knows what you need more than you do. Your reasoning is clouded by your emotions, and you'll let go of yourself, because your thoughts rewind over and over to what's plaguing your mind. Toji knows you'll be glad he did this for you when you feel better.
"Let's get that bath ready," he says, securing your legs around his waist, before he stands up from the couch. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you breathe in his scent, until you reach the bathroom.
Toji flicks the light on and sets you down on the counter. A chaste kiss is pressed to your tearstained cheek, before he lets you go so he can prepare your bath. You turn your head to look at yourself in the mirror and hate the messy sight before you—the product of your meltdown. You turn on the cold water and splash some on your face, hoping to decrease the puffiness of your eyes, even just a little bit, while Toji is busy. You dry your face afterwards and check your appearance in the mirror, again, to clean up any remaining gunk in your eyes.
When you finish, you turn back, just in time to watch Toji rise from his knelt position by the bathtub. He makes his way back to you and stands between your legs, offering you a contemplative look, and a "hm" to go along with it. No words are exchanged when his hand reaches out to gently cup your jaw, allowing him to turn your head in any way he wants. He leans forward to examine you more closely, to check if anything is "broken". He can see you pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh, as he continues to snoop around.
"Oh," he says, like he found a cable that has simply been disconnected. He turns your head a little, and keeps inspecting the problematic area, building up the suspense for you. You couldn't say it, but him finding something scared you a little, considering you had just looked at your reflection and didn't see anything.
"Don't move, doll. I'll get it." His hand rests on your shoulder, the other on your thigh, as he leans in closer and closer, until his body heat coils around you. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck. It's featherlight, almost like a gentle breeze. Another one lands on the same area, then another, and another, until he hears your little laugh, a sound that brought both of you mutual relief. Your relief came from understanding that Toji didn't actually find anything off, while Toji's came from the miracle of him being able to make you laugh, after what went down not that long ago.
"Two seconds, ma," he says, beneath your ear. He pulls away from you and goes back to the now foam covered, sweet smelling bathtub. He leans down to turn the faucet off, and returns to you, afterwards.
"It's all ready for you," he says. A smile curls on his lips when you raise your arms, signaling for him to pull your shirt off. "You wanna keep your bra and underwear on?" He asks, as he pulls the hem of your shirt up. You nod, just before the material goes over your head. He sets it aside and helps you down, off the counter, so you can take your sweatpants off. You pull your phone out of your pocket and set it on the counter. Your fingers hook into the waistband of your sweatpants and tug downwards, until they just slide down your legs and allow you to step out of them.
Toji watches you carefully step over the edge of the tub, one foot sinking through the foam and into the warm water, followed by your other foot. You crouch down, slowly, until you are able to sit down and eventually lay back. You close your eyes once you're in a comfortable position and just let the warm water and the pretty smell work its magic on you.
Toji kneels beside you, and observes you in a more serious manner than before. His gaze lingers on those tired eyes of yours, for longer than any of your other facial features. Your eyelids are still swollen and the bags beneath your eyes are prominent. The longer he stares, the more he thinks back to how you were so distressed, to the point where you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds. It scared him. He didn't get a single word about what was wrong, from you. You couldn't say anything other than that single curse, but even then, you sounded like you were being strangled by your own emotions.
Toji knows this is only a temporary fix— this calm sight of you resting in a bubble bath. Your feelings won't be swept under the rug, because he knows that if it were him going through this exact situation, you wouldn't just give him a hug and call it a day. No, when you take care of his mind and heart, you hold him in your arms and don't let go until he's the one trying to cage himself in your embrace when your arms loosen around him. You keep your voice at an intimate volume as you tell him about your day, because sometimes he isn't immediately ready to talk about what is bothering him, but he still wants to hear you. You cook for him, you give his tired body massages, you shower him with love and affection, and when he's finally ready to tell you what's going on, you listen closely to everything he has to say and you offer him your utmost support. You love and protect him to no end, and he has become shamelessly clingy towards you, because of it.
He wants you to feel as loved as he does. He wants you to know what it's like to experience the same level of care you give him. He may not be able to replicate it to a T, but he's willing to try for you.
"Hey," Toji calls, tenderly running the knuckle of his index finger back and forth, over your cheek. You hum, and blink open your eyes, giving him your attention. "I'm gonna go get us some food. Stay on the phone with me and keep me company until I get back, yeah?"
You nod. "Yeah, okay. Can you bring me my phone, please?"
Toji gets back on his feet and takes one large step towards the counter, retrieving your phone, before taking that same step back to leave it next to you, on the edge of the bathtub.
"Be right back, doll. Pick up the phone as soon as I call, okay?"
"Okay."
His hands grip the edge of the bathtub, to prevent him from falling in, as he leans in to peck your cheek once more. His weight shifts onto one arm so he can bring a hand to your face and rub the kiss into your skin with his thumb.
"Love you, ma."
"Love you, too."
With that, Toji stands up straight and heads towards the door. He takes one last look at your pretty face, before exiting the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He grabs his phone from the couch, his keys from the hook on the wall, and messily slides his shoes on, not bothering to put them on correctly, since he won't be getting out of the car, anyways. He secures the inside of the house, before heading out, and once he's outside, he finds his house key and locks the door. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes haste of clicking the phone icon, and then your contact, as he keeps walking to the car. His phone is now against his ear, and he listens as the line rings once... twice...
"Hi, Toji."
"Hi, baby."
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Proper Appreciation
It had started innocently enough. You were lounging around and admiring your Dragon Hybrid Husband as he hovered over the fire in your shared den, preparing a meal for the two of you. Always so happy to provide for you and take care of you. To make sure you were eating enough and happier than you could’ve ever dreamed.
You almost couldn’t believe it. This dragon was your mate. He was yours as much as you’re his. Emotion wells up inside your chest, gratitude and affection blossoming within you as you stare at your husband. A husband who is totally unaware of your current oogling or the hearts currently present in your eyes.
Now, now, that just wouldn’t do. Is a mate truly at their happiest unless they know how utterly loved and adored they are? You think not.
Throughout your relationship with your Dragon husband, it’s been revealed that there are many differences between the ways that humans and dragons show their affection for another. You sneakily glide up to your husband and give his ass an appreciative slap, but it’s not until he whirls around, staring at you as if you’ve lost your mind do you wonder if dragons have this sign of affection or not.
“Mind telling me what that was?” Dragon husband asks, his face aghast. Even as he shivers at the echos of the sting left on his bottom. A blush creeps up on your cheeks as you scramble to explain.
“I thought you looked hot.”
“And that’s how you think to tell me? Is this another human custom I have yet to learn?” He saunters over to you, walking around the fireplace like a predator cornering their prey. The dinner he was making now long forgotten.
Heat blooms in your belly as fierce as a dragon while you gush with arousal. One look at your Dragon Husband and you’re absolutely fucking soaked.
“Kind of,” you say, your voice sounding breathier than you expected. Your husband’s eyes flash with a deep simmering lust. The fire inside him sparks to life and you know you’re toast.
“And is that how a human male show his appreciation for his mate in return?” He rasps.
He scoops your plump form into his arms with ease and before you can even manage to hold on he’s plopping you down on the pile of furs that make up your bed.
He throws your body around like it’s nothing, flipping you over onto your belly and jerking your ass high up in the air. And you swear you’ve never been so desperate. You know he can see your glistening folds by his low growls, your arousal dripping down your thick thighs and onto the chains of gold he adorns you with.
You startle when you feel his hands cup your bottom, pulling the cheeks a part to make room for his big aching tip. You can feel how affected he is by this too as he smears his pre-cum into your slick, mixing them together and teasing you. Clearly waiting for your answer.
“Yes! F-fuck, yes they do,” you whine, rocking back into his cock and trying to take him inside you.
Just as eager as you are, your Dragon Husband slams into your wet scorching heat in one solid stroke. His hips slapping against your ass at the same moment his hand does. You release a pitiful scream, full of need. A need for more.
His hips move in a blur, pumping into your fat cunt at a brutal pace, spurned on by the act of spanking you. It drives you just as wild as you rock back, meeting his every hard thrust.
Obscene noises of pleasure fill the room as he fucks you like a beast unchained. The loud squelch of his massive length stuffing you full meets the loud ringing of his hand meeting your ass. Your toes curl as the delicious sting mixes with the waves of ecstasy that course through you with every jerk of his hips.
“Please, baby, please h-harder!” You beg, tears pricking at your eyes.
Your husband lets out a low hiss, his hand swinging down and delivering a hard smack on your ass. Your body surges forward at the force and you moan, body arching. The invitation more than clear.
“As you wish. My mate needs to know the true depth of my appreciation after all.”
With a renewed vigor, your husband picks up his back, pounding into your gummy walls with in-human stamina. His hands delivering blows in equal measure and his claws only adding to the sensation as they prick and tease at your skin with each smack.
The mix of pain and pleasure has the pressure in your belly growing tighter and tighter till you can’t take it anymore. The cord snaps and you don’t recognize the mewl that comes out of you as you cum so hard on his cock you see stars.
Your body shakes with the force of your orgasm and you lose all feeling besides the pleasure washing over you. You lay limp as your husband works you through the best release of your life. He cums deep inside your pussy with a roar that shakes your entire den.
The strength of his climax takes as much out of him as it did you as his tall form curls around you. Keeping his cock inside you to the hilt. Not wanting to put too much pressure on your red sore bottom.
Though He can’t stop himself from giving it a little squeeze, relishing the way you hiss and clench around his cock. His mouth hovers over your ear and his hot breath sends goosebumps down your arms.
“Think you got the message, mate?” He growls, giving your bottom one final little slap.
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NSFW /// KNY characters who I think cum particularly hard/ a lot. This could have a part two, I'm eepy, srry.
CW/ Non specific gendered/genitalia reader / Cum... like an insane amount of cum / BDSM Dynamic (ENMU)/ Light Gore (ENMU)/ tbh, Enmu. / Cum-swapping (AKAZA)
Sanemi Shinazugawa
-Cums hards AND a lot.
-Sanemi isn't quite sure why is body is the way it is, maybe it's his breath control mixed with the insane amount of testosterone and panic pumping through his veins on the daily, but Sanemi doesn't struggle to get it up.
-he struggles to stay flaccid. He's far more likely to be hard at any given moment. Not that he's excited, his dick is just permanently stuck at half mast. It takes an insane, highly emotional amount to get him entirely flaccid.
-I think Sanemi's orgasm absolutely shreds him everytime, unanimously. Does that stop him from getting it up in another ten minutes? Absolutely not. I just truly think he's a medical anomaly.
-He cums prematurely, but what does it matter? It literally didn't go down, he's still fucking going, now he's just like, in tears about it.
-I think Sanemi's eyes get really wide and he gets lock jaw, and he seethes and he tries to hold back any noise, but it just shreds the poor guys throat, and now he's sore, and it hurts him to moan, but he just can't help it, you feel so fucking good- and all for him? It's all for him?
-Shakes. Sobs. Sounds incredibly desperate, don't let the facade fool you. If he loves you, he's a crier.
-Also physically cums a lot. Not just by how many orgasms, but by how much each time is. I think he's got an obnoxiously low set of balls. He's made to breed, the poor bastard. If he can't let go in you, both of you are covered in it by the end of the night.
-Sanemi has yet to tap out before you.
Kyōjurō Rengoku
-Cums a lot.
-Rengoku has good stamina, but once he cums, he's done for, no more. He can keep going if he really wants to, or if you look like you really need him, but chances are the first round wad more than enough.
-vocal, but in a fatherly way. Sex with Rengoku is probably very... comfortable.
-Until he cums and now you're sticky from your chest to your upper thigh. The range of his shot is insane. He cums buckets, and he barely blinks. His breathing gets a little ragged, and his chest a little shakey, but that's it.
-He needs to go night night after, though. Feeling any amount of joy that doesn't come from stuffing his face does a number on him emotionally and physically. He needs a cuddle and a conversation about... idk, taxes after.
-Won't beg to cum in you, but really, really wants to.
-He always pulls out like a gentleman (if you can be much of a gentleman when you're balls deep), but you can always tell that he wants to see your face so bad when he pumps you full.
-Will not ask. That'd be rude.
-Talks you through your orgasm, but that's another post for another day.
Enmu
-Fuck, I just know he's a screamer. He cums so hard.
-This guy's a fucking mess, but it takes work.
-Enmu is such a good submissive that you're always shocked when he decides to mouth off to you, or when he forgets a command. Not too shocked, though. It's very clearly intentional. It always is.
-He gives himself a bit in between each 'screw up' to make sure he's edged himself mentally properly (very hard, he's almost always some kind of aroused, and he's prone to cumming untouched, so that build up is a little diificult.)
-While he doesn't struggle to ask for things, and his dignity is subzero, Enmu still appreciates a stray chase here and there. After all, it's the only thing mentally stimulating enough for him to cum.
-In any normal dynamic with Enmu, he isn't often left using his dick. So when you've got a spear through his wrists, locking them behind his back, one hand pulling his hair, the other jerking his cock with thoughtless speed-
-Enmu can never cum harder than when he's recieving borderline abuse. His dick looks irritated, going untouched for months previous, and now it's receiving all this attention. Can you blame him for being this loud?
-His legs shake, his whole body recoils. He drools and screams- laughs and wails. He cries with the brightest smile you've ever seen. His hips buck up. You're not being gentle, and he's so, so happy. The orgasm is ripping through every nerve in his body.
-He feels like he's in the sun again.
-He's hoping Muzan can see him look so pathetic. You're just hoping the demon lord stays out of your man's head.
Akaza
-cums like a horse.
-a lover, truly. That's the only word encompassing enough to describe Akaza's efforts sexually. He's a fantastic lover.
-... who can go for hours... days even and never get tired. Every orgasm blows off his shoulders- It's all about you. It always has been, it always will be.
-You've made him cum hard before, it's a rarity, but it's possible... Its just nothing feels as good to him as watching you cum, so he'll do whatever must be done-
-and if that means pumping you full again and again, until you're leaking from every accessible orifice, so be it.
-He'll lick your hole clean, reveling in the way you twitch after your.... you lost count after the fifth one. That won't stop him from tongue fucking you.
-His cum tastes... shockingly good. You like to give him head, and then come up to give him a kiss. He'll pull your tongue down, wanting to see it in your mouth just before you swallow. You always look so proud of yourself. He can't help but reward you with a kiss before you even get it down.
-there's way to much for one swallow. You can barely manage to keep all of it in your mouth while showing him. Your effort is precious, though.
-Akaza looks really good with cum on his lips. It's one of the only times you see him really flustered.
#sanemi x you#sanemi x y/n#demon slayer x reader#sanemi smut#sanemi x reader#demon slayer smut#hashira x reader#rengoku smut#enmu x reader#enmu x y/n#enmu x you#enmu smut#akaza x reader#akaza smut#akaza x y/n#rengoku x reader#rengoku x y/n#kny x reader#kny smut
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Arcane Characters Dealing With Problems Badly
Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Ekko, Silco, Sevika, Vander, Jayce, Viktor, Mel x Reader
Tags: angst, fluff, comfort, getting into fights, working late, protectiveness, massage, fake smiles, lack of sleep
Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters
A/N: Arcane S2 is approaching and with it my emotional breakdown.
JINX
Bites her nails a lot out of nervousness
Relentlessly tinkers away at her desk, hardly even eating or drinking anything to make sure her body doesn't shut down
Talks with the people she sees but you don't and then tells you that she's fine because she's not alone, clearly she isn't fine, she doesn't want you to worry
Gets angry when you ask too many questions about her problems
Feels bad right after but there are just some things she's not ready to talk about, family things that she needs to sort out, but are free to stay by her side if it will make you feel better
VI
Pretends that there's nothing wrong
She learned in prison that showing any weakness if a bad thing so she tends to avoid it if she can
Hopes to distract you with kissing and flirting
Says that one of the best ways to get over things is a good fight so she seeks those out until she feels better
Of course this means that she comes back with a lot of bruises and maybe even a broken rib or two, but hey at least she got everything out of her system
CAITLYN
Obsesses over her problem to the point of losing sleep
Knows this is a problem for her but doesn't know how to fix it, she only knows how to fix other problems, and always before her own
Fell asleep at her office desk quite a few times
Doesn't even come home some nights but greets you down at the Enforcer HQ and gives you a kiss when you hand her the morning cup of coffee
Takes very short breaks to spend some time with you
EKKO
Includes you in solving most problems he needs to solve but doesn't give up until it's done
Takes a few unnecessary risks in the process
Risks his own safety, never someone else's, least of all yours
Call him stubborn if you must, he will admit that he is but everything he does is for a better future of you and all of his friends, for that no risk is too great
There's not a job dangerous enough to keep him away from it, he will try to keep you away, for your safety
SILCO
Can get a bit worked up when things don't end up going his way
Maintains a calm exterior when dealing with other people
In his job he needs to seem like he's in control of things even when he's not
Always tells you when he's gonna stay late so you don't worry that something happened to him, not realizing that you worry because these long nights have been getting more frequent
Finally has people who he can call h
SEVIKA
Good luck with trying to get her to open up with anything that's emotionally taxing on her
Blunt when she needs to threaten or insult but extremely slow when revealing her emotions
Would much rather drink, fight or fuck them away than give them a time of day
She's always been like this, you shouldn't expect her to change any time soon
Gets very guarded with her emotions if you try to prod at them, yet she's careful not to let her anger out on you, she likes you more than most people, you're fun
VANDER
Tries to avoid dragging you into his problems if he has anything to say about it
He knows you notice that he's more on guard, more careful when the bar is open, his eyes scanning the crowd for danger
Does tell you to keep your eyes open for anything suspicious but no more than that, he can deal with it when the time comes
Cracks a lot of jokes to make you feel better, safer
Promises that nothing will happen to you while he's still in charge, and he will keep it that way too
JAYCE
He's had to put on a fake smile more times than he can count, he can do it now too
Usually he's very honest with things that bother him, it's easy to open up to you
Yet this time he's closed off, working away on his blueprints, furiously writing things down in his notebook and even forgetting to eat the sandwiches he loves so much
A massage does help relax his pent up shoulders, he knows it's not good for him
Only when he's at the end of his rope does he admit what's been bothering him and let you help him
VIKTOR
Usually he closes himself up in his lab to work late nights so it takes a few nights for you to notice there's something wrong
He hasn't been sleeping at all, not for a few days
Barely keeps his eyes open yet insists that he's fine and that you don't need to worry about him getting sick from lack of rest
Takes short rests when you're in the lab with him
Needs to be dragged away to bed if he's gonna get any real sleep
MEL
Really good at pretending to be fine and being in control of things, even when she's pretending in front of you
Being in the Council for as long as she has she had to learn how to keep her guard up
Kisses your cheek when she tells you that her problems are her own, not for you to worry your pretty head about
Will spend the night with you but be gone first thing in the morning
Her nightmares get worse the longer this goes on
#arcane x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#sevika x reader#vander x reader#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#mel x reader#arcane imagine#arcane headcanon#arcane angst#league of legends x reader#league of legends imagine#league of legends headcanons#league of legends angst#arcane x you#league of legends x you
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The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)
Logan Howlett x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fem reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!
Read pt.1 here
Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.
Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral
Word Count: 9.5K
divider credit here and here
It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.
You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.
As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.
You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner.
“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.
Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.
“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”
“And If I did?”
Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.
“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”
You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.
“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “
Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.
“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”
“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.
“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.
“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.
“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”
You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.
Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.
“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole.
Ororo wasn’t any better.
She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.
“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.
Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.
“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”
Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.
After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.
“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”
“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ‘something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”
He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.
“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”
“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.
“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”
You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him.
Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.
After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him.
Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier.
“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”
You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise. You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.
“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”
“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets.
You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”
He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”
Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.
“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.
“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.
“I love you.”
You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.
“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “
“I love you - I love you, too.”
It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.
A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.
He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.
“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.
“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”
“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”
Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.
“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”
He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”
You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.
“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”
You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.
You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood.
But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.
As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.
Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.
It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.
“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”
She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.
“Nah, I'm fine.”
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table.
The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.
“And here, this is for you.”
She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.
Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.
“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.
Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”
“I asked you first.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”
He shrugged, “just not interested.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Watch the language, kid.”
“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”
You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes.
“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”
You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip.
It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.
“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.
“I guess you could say that.”
Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.
“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”
Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.
“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”
You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.
“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.
Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.
“Is she your girlfriend?”
Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.
“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”
You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face.
“Why not?”
Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.
Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous habit.
“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”
“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?”
Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.
“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.
Ororo rolled her eyes.
You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.
“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”
He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.
No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.
Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.
“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”
“Ask me what?’
You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.
His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.
“Would you be my girl?”
It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.
“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.
If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him.
“No way!”
Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.
“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.
“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.
“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to.
“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.
But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”
You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else.
“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.
“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”
You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.
“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”
“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.
“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?
“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”
You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.
“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.
You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”
He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”
Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.
You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.
When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.
“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”
You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.
“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall.
“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”
You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.
He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric.
Christ, he’s hot.
“Everything alright, pumpkin’?”
It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.
“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”
You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms.
“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”
His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.
You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.
“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”
Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.
You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong.
Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.
“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.
“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”
You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”
“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”
“I think you got your wish.”
You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.
“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slung over his thighs.
“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.
His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts.
“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed.
“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.
“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo.
“Yeah? I know you will.”
You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head.
“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”
“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.
“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”
You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.
“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.
“ ‘s that what you thought about?”
You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.
“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”
Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.
“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”
He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore.
“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”
You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it.
“Really?”
Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.
“Please.”
That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.
You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest.
Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin.
“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.
“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.
He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.
“ ‘s good, baby?”
You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.
“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair.
You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.
“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips.
“”Fuck, yes, yes -“
You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.
“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.
You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.
You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.
“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”
You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”
His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.
“Can I take these off you?”
“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs.
When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.
“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.
You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.
“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.
“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.
Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.
“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”
You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.
You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.
You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.
“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”
You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”
He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.
“Yeah, I am.”
He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.
You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”
“Nah, you don’t.”
His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”
You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.
“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”
“Need me how?”
He really was an asshole.
“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.
“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”
You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.
“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”
He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”
You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.
He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”
He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.
“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”
You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.
“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.
He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.
“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.
“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”
You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.
When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.
He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.
“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”
His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.
“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”
The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.
“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.
Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.
You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.
“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.
“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.
You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.
Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.
“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”
“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’
He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”
You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.
“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”
“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.
“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.
“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”
His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth.
You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become.
“Gonna come for me already, honey?”
You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.
“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.
“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”
You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.
Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.
“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.
You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.
“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.
You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.
“You alright, baby?”
“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”
Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.
“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”
You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.
“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl - you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”
He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.
“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”
You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.
You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.
Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist.
“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”
His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.
The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.
You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.
“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”
You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.
“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.
You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.
“Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”
It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.
“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.”
You just about melted into putty from his words.
“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”
Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.
“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”
“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”
“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”
“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”
“So, is it as good as you imagined?”
“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”
“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”
“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”
You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.
“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”
In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.
Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him.
“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down.
“Hm? What, baby?”
When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.
Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach.
“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”
He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.
You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”
He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up.
“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.
“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”
“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”
Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you.
“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”
His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath.
Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.
His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.
You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.
“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”
As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.
Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.
“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”
The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.
“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.
“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”
It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.
“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.
“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy.
You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.
He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.
So fucking pretty
Look so beautiful like this
So perfect
He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.
“Was that good, baby?”
He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair.
“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”
He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.
“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.
“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”
You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.
“Logan?”
“Mm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure
If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!
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